Maximón

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On Sunday March 3 we hired Álvaro, son of the owner of Hotel Bambú, and went off with two other gringos (Robert and Carol, from Washington state) to explore the village of Santiago Atitlán. Álvaro speaks excellent English but has never been to the US. He is well educated, and will probably inherit Hotel Bambú some day and ruin it by good management.



Santiago Atitlán is about a mile down a back road from the hotel, a very Maya place. The market there has good hand woven textiles, which Robert and Carol were looking for, but not us. We have a beautiful glass beaded frog and a coffee mug we liked, and a red embroidered table cloth, but nothing else. Our luggage is too heavy already.



This village is the home of a hybrid Christian and pagan cult of a spiritual being named Maximón (pronounced mashimón). His name a blend of Max (pr. maash, Mayan for tobacco) and Simón, the most obscure of the Apostles.



The Mayan story holds that Maximón was left behind "to protect the women" when the other men of a village went off to war. But the men returned to find all their wives pregnant, so Maximón was killed, and his legs and arms were chopped off. This upset the women terribly, and they took their revenge by setting up his trunk as a shrine and forcing the men to worship him. To this day, he has very short stubby legs and arms, so I guess that's proof. Strangely, his face and clothing are European, with a big black mustache. He wears a coat and trousers with a cloak, and is adorned with many colorful scarves, and a big black cowboy hat. His face has a mouth where he can smoke a cigar or drink rum. In general, he is a representation of masculine strength and power.



Many Maya villages have Maximón shrines, and his attributes vary from place to place. In Southern Mexico he is more sinister, granting prayers for revenge on enemies, or for success at the expense of others. There he is called Maam, another tobacco word, and is partly a personification of judas Iscariot, or "St. Lucifer". Here in Guatemala he is much more benign, listening to prayers for success in love, for healing, and for long life. The Guatemalan Maya perhaps should want revenge on certain evil killers active within living memory, but they do not give the power of revenge to their Maximón here.



Photos 1 shows the narrow path you go up to reach the shrine. Photo 2 shows Maximón himself, waiting patiently for his devotees to appear, surrounded by lit candles, in what is perhaps the "sitting room" of a common house where he resides this year. Soon now, during Semana Santa, he will choose a different house and will be levitated through the streets to reach it. Photo 3 shows the ceiling decorations.



We came in briefly to see the set-up, but unlike the usual turistas we did not just take pictures and depart. Álvaro told the head guy that this Gringo Viejo wanted a full Maximón ceremony, asking for good health and long life. They said it could not be done right away because the woman kneeling on the floor was in the middle of her own ceremony, and we would have to wait. He asked for 75 Quetzales to cover expenses, which we gave him, and Álvaro told him we would go away and come back. Meanwhile, Carol stood too near one of candles on the floor, and her pants caught fire. It was potentially serious but our Gringo friend Robert saw it and put it out with his hands before any harm was done.



When we left, an old man near the door took my hand ( I thought for a handshake; but no, not exactly). He kissed my hand and patted my shoulder in a very friendly gesture, but very strange to me. I thanked him and we then left; we went down the the main square to the rather infamous Catholic church there, with Sunday services in full swing; then down through the market nearby; but more of that later. We had been coming down a steep hill all the way from Maximón, and I was happy that Álvaro said we should return by tuk-tuk, the omnipresent three wheel taxis of Guatemala.



Photo 4 shows the Old Gringo getting ready for his Maximón ceremony. The first thing the shaman does is to get a good fire going in his copal censor (Photo 5). Then he removes the coat and the robe from Maximón and gives them a good smoke, and puts them on me. Then the hat and veil, too. Photo 6 shows me ready to begin, and Photo 7 shows the shaman, a very ordinary guy dressed in no special way. He asked me my name and the name of my wife and children and grandchildren (which he remembered well into the ceremony). And then he began. I must say, he really gave me my money's worth in prayers, partly Maya and partly Spanish. After fifteen minutes I was ready for it to be over, but the prayers went on and on. I caught an occasinal word of the Spanish, but otherwise I am not sure what I got. General good health, good luck, and long life as best I could tell. During all this, the old man who had kissed my hand sat over to the side of the room, kneeling before more candles and creating a huge cloud of copal smoke that made some people leave the room. Whether it was for me or for himself, I could not tell.



At the end two acolytes (who had been busy keeping Maximón's cigar lit) gave him a drink of the rum I had bought him, and carefully wiped his lips. Then the shaman took off my hat and had me kiss it five times; front, back, sides, and top. Then he took a good mouthful of rum himself, and with others telling me to close my eyes, he sprayed it directly into my face. It felt very cool and good, what with all the heat of the innumerable candles. Then he did it to the back of my neck and both sides of my face (photo 9). Then he smoked the coat and the cloakagain, and put them back on Maximón, and the ceremony was over.



I slipped him a hundred Quetzals into his hand (about double what was asked), but I think that was a faux pas. He looked startled to receive it; I now think I should have given it to the shrine keepers who had been chatting loudly in the back of the room during the whole ceremony. The visible giving of money to Maximón was probably part of the ceremony, and I screwed that part up, by slipping the money into the shaman's hand.



Outside, I felt better immediately, and I look forward the rapid end of my many chronic illnesses of old age.

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Photos

1.Path to Maximón shrine
Strait is the path...

2.Maximón
Maximón de Santiago Atitlán

3. Ceiling decorations
Nice standard fiesta decorations

4.Gringo Viejo, about to begin
That's me

5.Copal and censor
The tools of the trade

6.Enrobed in purified garments
Ready now...

7.The man who kissed my hand
A true devotee of Maximón

8.Gringo Viejo y Shaman
On and on, in two obscure languages

9.The offeerings received
I could tell he really appreciated them

10.Spray of rum
Finally, the sacred spray

Comments

[Meredith]

Okay: the blessings of Maximóm.....
The personal aspect of this blog and its pictures of you all in your exotic setting is more interesting than Wikipedia -type histories. This was full of personal details, which I loved. Meredith

[El Yerno]

Muchos Gracias
Thank you for your prayers. I think they're working. Peace. T