The Spirit of Semana Santa

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Dad’s time in Central America is coming to a close as we spend Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Antigua, along with everyone else in the country. This is the busiest week of the year for Latin America and Antigua is the heart of the action. The town is alive with hundreds of people dressed in purple robes, massive parades, floats depicting Christ’s Crucifixion, clouds of incense, and beautiful carpets of colored sawdust and flower petals (Alfombras). Processions and other events actually take place every weekend through Lent (The 40-day period prior to Holy Week), but the ones during Holy Week can't even be compared. Good Friday is the peak of the festival with enactments of the Crucifixion in the Parque Central, floats of Jesus bearing the cross, the Virgin Mary, and numerous Roman soldiers on foot and horseback. Locals come together to build the alfombras all through the streets of Antigua. They use flowers, pine needles, colored sawdust, fruit, and other materials to create these works of art, each one being very different than the other. As a tradition, the processions that march through the streets walk over these colorful carpets. Each day of Holy Week, the processions portray and enact the events that correspond with that day in history; from the Crucifixion to the Resurrection of Christ. People from all over the world have traveled here to witness and be part of the celebration of Semana Santa. The atmosphere and spiritual electricity in the air is truly exciting and comforting at the same time.

Being here to witness these events has made me think (oh know!) and realize how different our countries really are. In the U.S., when most children think of Easter, the first thing that pops into the head is the Easter Bunny or searching for colored eggs. In Latin America, the focus is entirely on Jesus and the only eggs I saw were served for breakfast. I find it sad to think that our country is losing the true meaning of Easter, and it really became evident to me when I experienced Semana Santa. I had heard and read much about the festival, but it is only being here that I see how important this Holy Week is to this culture. These people who have so little put so much into this celebration. The processions start at 3am in the morning and go on continuously throughout the day and on into the wee hours of the night. Alfombras are built, then destroyed, and then rebuilt over and over again. This incredible display of praise does not take place in Antigua alone, but all over Latin America. It is truly a beautiful thing to see. Now, as in every country, there are always your bad apples that make an appearance. Dad and I were lucky and had no problems what so ever, but we did hear of several people who were pick pocketed and some that were even robbed at gun point. I told you before; it sure is nice running with someone as intimidating as my father.

After experiencing a very memorable Good Friday, Dad and I decided to spend Easter Sunday at Lake Atitlan where my travels began. The Rices, who just happened to be returning home from Guatemala City, contacted me and offered us a ride to the lake. We stopped off halfway in Tecpan and had a lunch fit for kings and got to catch up with the Rices. After farewells, Dad and I settled into a hotel in Panajachel and took a walk around. The festivities were still going strong here and continued all night, with a couple of mid-sleep firework explosions that nearly stopped my father’s heart. Sleep deprived, we took a boat across the lake to Santiago La Laguna. This was my first time in the town even though it is one of the most popular spots to visit on the lake. Santiago is one of the resting places of the Mayan god Maximón. After breakfast and a tour of the town, we decided to seek out this revered figure and learn a little more about him. First I need to give you some brief background information. Maximón, also known by the Spanish as San Simón and to the Maya as Ry Laj Man, is assumed to be a combination of Mayan gods (Rain, Corn, Sun.... you get the picture). The locals parade him around during Semana Santa, but the rest of the year he resides in the home of a different elder each year. This is strictly a belief of the Western Highland Maya and not the rest of Guatemala. The festival we experienced in Antigua was solely for Jesus and no other. The Maya of this region offer up their bad habits such as liquor or cigarettes to the idol in order that he might take these vices away. There is more to the story of this guy, but you'll have to ask me about it when I return. Dad and I found a local guide (Francisco) to take us to the house where he was kept. I must say it was an experience I won't soon forget and well worth the money. We walked down this shady alley and ended up in a shack with a bunch of drunk Guatemalans sitting around (Don't worry, I had my mace and blade on me of course). The room was lit up with candles and incense, but the spot where Maximón usually sat was empty. Francisco, who spoke no English, informed us that Maximón had been working hard for Semana Santa and that he was tired and drunk, so they had placed him in the attic space to rest. In order for us to see the idol, we had to give 20Q for waking him up. We then were asked to remove our shoes and climb up a rickety old ladder that was placed on the bar. As we made our way through the ceiling, we saw a figure lying in the corner which our guide and friend quickly bowed to and mumbled something (probably - "we tricked us two more gringos") I was asked to place the 20Q under his tie (snazzy dresser he was) and Dad reluctantly offered up one of his cigars. The hardest thing for me was refraining from complete laughter as Dad acted so serious in paying his homage to the mighty Maximón. They allowed me to take pictures and then we said farewell to the men that were taking shots of liquor by the bar. As we made our way down to the boat docks, I paid Francisco (less than 8 bucks) and asked him more about the history and validity of the idol. When I questioned him if Maximón was really truly considered a god, he quickly asked me to keep my voice down so that it may not offend anyone. He proceeded to explain about the special wood he is carved from and his history, when all of a sudden I lost my footing as we rounded the corner and fell down the hill. This was great! Now I had Dad hooping and hollering about Maximón punishing his son and Francisco agreeing that it was definitely the work of the deity - right!, or maybe I'm just clumsy. Soon after, Maximón paid Dad back as well. We left Santiago and motored over to San Pedro La Laguna where we discovered that there wasn't a cigar to be found anywhere. Now, I had my laugh as Dad pouted, having given Maximón his last cigar.

In San Pedro, we booked a nice little room at the Gran Siesta and I then took Dad over to meet the Puac family (The family I lived with during Spanish school). They weren't all home, but Dad got to at least meet the mom and three kids. Next, I showed Dad around the town and took him to eat at Nick's, my favorite local hangout. We then hopped a pick-up truck over to San Juan, so Dad could see the firehouse and meet the guys. Only two of them were there (Miguel and Joel), but it was still fun to chat and introduce Paps. The fellas told me that Abel was at home, so we headed over to see him and his family. This was great! We sat around and talked with the entire family and Dad got to see how special they really are (See Taking Things For Granted if you don't remember the Perez family). Abel told Dad about his dream to someday come to the U.S., and Dad insured him that if he did there would be a job waiting on him. Abel's wife gave Dad a hand-woven table cloth that she had made and thanked us for our kindness. If there is one thing I have realized over the past 3 months it is this; offering up just a small piece of yourself (whether it be your time, energy, money, support...etc.) can make such a huge impact in people's lives. The feeling you get is so rewarding and seeing how so little means so much to those in need is humbling. With this in mind, Father and I were compelled to do something for the family. After returning to San Pedro, I researched on the web the regulations and requirements for visas and came to realize that it would be nearly impossible to get Abel to the United States. So, Dad and I were forced to make a deal with some local drug runners to transport Abel to Tennessee and drop him by parachute over the Fountain City Duck Pond. We just need one of you back home to be there to pick him up (Mom, calm down! I'm just kidding.) Seriously though, without a college degree and sponsorship from a U.S. company that can show that he has special skills, there is almost no chance he can get a visa. With this door shut, we decided that we could at least help Abel open a bank account so that he can slowly save money. The next morning, I went over to San Juan and took Abel to the local bank. It took a little time, but we soon had Abel set up with his first checking account and Dad made a small deposit to get them started. It was such a good feeling watching Abel, who was grinning ear to ear, make his first transaction. I talked to him on the walk home about how he could save money over time, and told him not to touch the savings unless it was for an emergency. Eventually over time, he may have enough money saved to help with the education of his girls, apply for a visa, or pay for an illegal immigrant transport fee (Ha!).

Soon after leaving Abel, Dad and I made our way back to Pana where we stayed the night. The next day we returned to Antigua and had a final going away dinner which was excellent (We had the Bill Clinton Special) and two premium Cuban cigars for the occasion. I sure am glad we decided to spend Dad’s final days at Lake Atitlan. This gave him a chance to meet a lot of the people I have been talking about and it let me say goodbye one last time before leaving Guatemala. I just want to take a second and thank my father for all that he has done. From him letting me drag him non-stop for three weeks across several countries to him not allowing me to pay for a single thing (I am so spoiled!). He truly is amazing and one of a kind. Let’s hear it for Big Daddy Benny, the man, the myth, the legend. There is one bad thing though. He has gotten me so used to good hearty meals and nice hotel rooms, there is a strong possibility my body could go into shock. It is back to peanut butter sandwiches and bug infested beds for me (Joy, oh Joy!).

Well, Dad is gone and thus ends another chapter of my travels. I will be meeting Gresly (The young girl I sponsor) at the Guate Zoo on Friday, but first I might climb the famous Volcan Pacaya, which erupted just 15 days ago. After that, I am off to El Salvador and have no set plans. It is time to just go with the flow. I know it is a little late, but I hope you all had a happy Easter and I will write you soon. Adios!

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Photos

Old Amigos Gather in Front of the Church
These old suckers charged me for the picture. I talked them down to 10Q.