Christmas Eve

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The chicken bus from Panajachel to Antigua

was just what I want in transportation: uneventful. We arrived the day before Christmas eve with enough daylight to walk to our hostel. Walking a suitcase over cobblestones or constantly pulling it a foot up to elevated sidewalks is awkward. I had thought I needed a stretch after a long bus ride. No, I should have taken a mototaxi to the hostel, and then stretched. See the church across the street.

Every Latin country has charming colonial towns and tourist traps. Cuenca in Ecuador and Oaxaca in Mexico and the Old City in Lima, Peru. Antigua claims 40,000 residents, but this can double on Easter. I was glad to read the logical town plan: Ten blocks square, all the calles run North-South and all the avenidas run East-West. Number addresses start at 100 in the central park and move outward in four quadrants. So you would know that, say, 600 Avenida Linda NE is six blocks north east from the square. It is so logical in fact that they do not put up street signs or house numbers so that I never knew where I was anyway. At least until

we walked around three days and was back to “just past the panadora, turn left at the laundry” which is how I get around Berkeley anyway.

Christmas Eve

Downtown parades in late afternoon featured Santa traveled in his sleigh…on the back of a pickup. Effigies of three wise men and odd companions danced to marimbas and even a shofar.

The central park at night was a wonderland of holiday lights. It was Halloween with adults and children in costumes, or if not, at least wearing reindeer antlers or glowing devil’s horns. It was the Fourth of July, with firecrackers and fireworks exploding in the streets. It was Christmas Eve; it was all things for all ages. Ol' Antigua was rockin' that night !

We managed to return to the yellow church for midnight mass (starting at 11 pm), fireworks and vendors were in full battle array, giant heads were out in force, and the Christmas tamales were…I won’t even try. Not the tame stuff we used to have, but real rockets 130 feet in the air, booming overhead. All that “practice” was paying off. The mass was beautiful, with adult choirs, children choirs, and

a homily about family, peace, love, and three other words that I understood. Afterwards the sounds of fireworks left me in shock and awe.

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Photos

Marimba Band
Playing for the wise men, filtered through smoke. One man looks to his right.

Firecrackers
Source of smoke.

Giant heads
Not sure who they represented, maybe just used for all occasions.

Comments

[Marcia Billings]

Christmas celebrated elsewhere (where it is celebrated in it's own culture) is such a perfect thing to do sometime. Relax, enjoy, take in it, participate as is possible, no sweat. Looks wonderful.