Saturday, January 31, 2004

Rock and Roll High School, Iraqi style

So they are doing a Rock Idol TV show in Iraq. It doesn't sound like too bad of an idea. Maybe slightly propagandaish but the point is, is that you are giving the Iraqis something to inspire them. The 13 year old kid that won only got 500 dollars but that's not bad at all there I'm sure. They want to start a Iraqi cops as well to show Iraqis that the police force has vamped up and is less corrupt as before. They don't want their faces to be shown however, because they are the ones conducting raids against Americans, they think..... Just something to think about.

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Malaria medicine and snow readjustment

Miercoles 28 de enero 2004

Wednesday! That means the malaria medicine. Yes, I am still taking it. Why? I'm not sure. I know I wasn't really bitten. It's not really even rainy season and to top it off all of my Guatemalan friends who have disappeared into the abyss of uncommunicative or perhaps exams Mrs. Choco? Arco? Donde estan? Anyway they all say there are not even malaria producing mosquitos in Guatemala. Just Dengue. Very reassuring isn't it. Anyway. I suppose just in case I might as well. It's not like the Central American Malaria medicine is hallucinogenic or dangerous. It is tame. So it has been snowing a lot here in DC. They are back on the terror scheme of scaring you to buy more products in case you are snowed into your house. They never talk about the power going off however. I mean you're stuck with a LOT of food and NO POWER. Very wise. I must giggle. I do like the snow somewhat. I mean tropical is more my style but there is something very peaceful about the snow. Reassuring. People are at home, warm. I guess it makes me calmer because there are less people on the streets. I've realized that the buses actually come more on time when they are on "emergency route", meaning no parked cars on street.

I found myself in my yoga class last week thinking I was hearing the same hummm that permeates the air just before the airplane hits the ground. It was a great warm feeling. I suppose not for all of you, but as I grew up partially in a small airplane for the amount that I traveled...I found myself a couple days ago craving it. However it's not just like a vodka you know. You can't go out searching any airplane. Some of them could just kill you. I mean airplanes within Central Asia or other domestic flights in certain regions are just held together by duct tape. You never know when those airplanes are going to just leave things dropping into the countryside. So I may have to calm my addiction while I am in developing countries.

This morning as I was awaking to the nuclear bomb exploding in my computer (allow me to explain in 2 sentences) I had the most amazing dream. I was lying warm and peaceful on my stomach and then awoke to the most beautiful color of blue with sand and waves upon a welcoming lively beach. I won't mention the other part of the dream but I was very happy. Strange considering how stressed I was trying to go to sleep last night but still. So my computer is like a nuclear bomb. My boyfriend unplugged it without realizing the computer was unplugged to plug in the scanner to help me with something and the battery on my computer is essentially destroyed. So, it has gone into spontaneous hibernate corrupting the system on various occasions and every time before it makes that horrible truck backing up sound or the countdown to implosion. So of course, Stephanie, who has indeed slept through fire alarms, did wake up for this sound because, it was the nuclear countdown sound...... I did manage to plug it in however without causing a meltdown....

So I go downstairs to make espresso to properly wake me up after the computer shock, to be greeted by one of the cats outside on the porch. As I make breakfast the look on this cats face has become increasingly irate. You could almost hear its thoughts come through the door. "how dare she, sit inside warm making food. Where's my food? Does she think it is warm out here? Meow, meow..." I mean how did that cat manage to get such an evil look on its face? Has he been practicing? His head slowly tilted to the side and ear raised up a bit... So I resorted to going outside in the 20F or -9 C weather in short sleeves to give the cat some food....

Sunday, January 25, 2004

Gung Hoy Fat Choy

23 de enero 2004

Gung Hoy Fat Choy to everyone. A bit belated but it is the year of the Monkey in this year's Chinese New Year! I am back in Washington for the time being with a cool layer of snow covering the ground. I'm thinking hunger strike may make the temperature rise...Nahhh. Although I have been eating way too fabulously well the last week. Between the gourmet dinner with our landlord for diplomacy purposes, the 6 course pastry party this weekend...Truly sinful. Meringue with whipped cream and fruit, profiteroles, chocolate cake with whipped cream, Crepes Suzette and Chocolate Mousse with Raspberry Coulis. Talk about gluttony and change from Guatemala. But of course, such parties will be happening as well in Guatemala. So all be invited...Getting nice wine might be the only problem....but that's ok. I have been a bad blogger in not writing in ages but I have been busy with this report that I must produce and studying for UN stuff. I'm back in the crazy craze of technology but haven't forgotten Guatemala. Hey, I mean I'm going back there a lot sooner than I think. Still have issues with toilet paper. I mean after training yourself to not throw it in the toilet...It's harder going back then you may think.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004

Re-entry: Coming into Miami


Everything is blurry with smog, but with beautiful shores, for some reason it seems flavorless, it's too organized. My eyes follow the brilliant sparkle of the sea of gold as the sun grows low on the horizon and ends with the carefully planned houses on the shore.

Within my first two minutes back on US soil, I realize the true paradox of the country. It is developed but yet sometimes service is worse. Such as transportation. Please remind me never to fly American Airlines again, no food on the flights, attitude like, why should I serve you? And having us sit on the runway for awhile before being let off the plane through our gate. After waiting 30 minutes in front of our gate while some on the plane watched as their connecting flights took off without them.

Once in Miami, hellish custom queues, no directions to my connecting gate and then trying to get food. I think the most impatient woman ever was standing behind me. She had the nerve to complain about waiting 2 minutes to be attended for food. It was almost a pleasure to order the Greek salad that I wanted and she said that she was going to order. It was the last one. I almost wanted to suggest to her, not to ever to bother to leave the country because with an attitude like that, it would be better not to hand out passports, you know threat to everyone else security. :)

Near DC, the cars go by like a line of soldiers. I remember the garifunas on the plane mentioning that there was no time for their music and celebrations in New York. That for me, is very sad.

Washington DC welcomes me with a happy field of light blue lights inviting me into the abyss.

Monday, January 19, 2004

Room with a view over Mexico

There is beautiful cloudy blue green water down below, maybe from sulfur. Darkened blue full of possibility in the middle. Some parts are yellow cloudy green near the edges. It must be a river. I wonder if those wonders are from pollution from farms or really natural?
The airplane seems awfully roomy after with bus ride to Guatemala City from Rio Dulce (I'll mention more later) or the chicken bus completely stacked full of people.

 

Over Mexico, flying from Guatemala to Washington D.C. 

Sunday, January 18, 2004

Trademarking the Mayan identity

viernes 18 de enero 2004

As I prepare to leave Guatemala, I am suddenly realizing certain things about the country. What really kills me is the way they are selling off the Mayan Culture and using the token novelty of indigenous people to Guatemala. The ladinos oligarchy doesn't even have the decency to leave the Mayans with their culture, they even had to usurp that. It's a strange type of racism. If the indigenous image sells, use it. But let's make fun of them calling them, "chula", "mija", not take any of their ideas seriously, and make a profit off of their outfits. You don't see ladino (non indigenous people)'s items selling in tourist shops because most of the products are for normal consumption. It's somewhat perturbing that the rich whitish latinos ladinos make a profit off a people when they don't give them land, and have committed endless human rights abuses. I just realized this right now at the airport. They call one of the airlines, Mayan Air. Something tells me that there isn't a single indigenous representative on the board of that airline. What kind of irony is that.

The Guatemalan government is trying to sell itself as tolerant to be accepted by the international community but the only groups really talking about multiculturalism are the indigenous ones, which really surprised me. Usually non-dominant ethnic groups are superioristic, vengeful, wanting to screw over the aggressor but all the NGO's stressed including other minorities. It was a strange type of solidarity I have near seen before, not in any of the other minority groups I have studied. Not in Arab solidarity, Muslim...There is some Slavic solidarity but usually more fanatical types or uneducated. What surprised me about this group was that they were very educated lawyers, clever, talented, and good hearted individuals. I think it still remains to be studied if the other groups feel the same way.

Right now I am in the airplane seated next to lagrifunas, which are the black inhabitants of Guatemala or moreno, dark-skinned as the Guatemalans call them. Yes, there are black people here. And they even have a traditional language similar to tome of them in Africa. Very interesting culture. The language is a strange motley of Spanish, French, English, Arawak, African and indigenous languages, not in that order. A true melting pot. I really need to read a book on multiculturalism in Guatemala - is there one? If not maybe I'll try writing something ;) Things here surely are messy, especially considering the amount of discrimination on the part of the government. The current president, Berger promised to have indigenous representation in his cabinet. There are so far 1-2 ministers of indigenous background and 2 women. For a field of reference, indigenous groups compose 60% of the population and women are around 50%. I'm not sure how Berger can say with a straight face that he has a democratic government. He has missed the point. Democracy means representation, or in this case, diversity. The indigenous groups told me that you need to change the mind set of the ladinos, they need to learn about the indigenous culture, the languages. They need to learn their own story.

Truth is such a succulent beautiful peaceful thing when it comes to knowing one's past, only in understanding the past, can one ever hope to progress for the future. But everyone is in denial. The US government for the causes of its national security, the Guatemalan government about the nature of democracy and my friend about the guy that she likes... People lie to themselves because it is easier that way. I do it as well. I'm trying to do it not as much but it's difficult. I think it's a tactic of the majority (that often has less of a culture), who will either do one of two things: repress the other culture, or take it as part of their own history. I was thinking, maybe the Mayans should copyright or trademark it and oblige the Guatemalan government to pay duty or taxes every time they put a picture of an indigenous person in their catalogues. The black Brazilians, and the gypsies should take similar measure in both Brazil with the culturally usurping whites and the Spanish in Spain. In both places, the dominant culture speaks nastily about their minorities, and treat them differently than they would treat their own, yet they want to learn Samba which is related to African dance and flamenco coming from gypsy and other origins. I'm not really surprised the gypsies (gitanos) are generally more racist than the Spanish. They haven't left them with anything. So, it's just something to reflect on...

I went to a part of Guatemala City called 4 Grados last night I never thought could have existed. Well, there are sanitized versions of Guatemala, for those really not interested in understanding the country. I felt like I was in Spain, France, Germany, or even the USA. Anywhere but Guatemala. It was a street with pretty white Christmas style lights between the buildings with no holes in the sidewalk. It was a pedestrian zone with different types of food, live salsa music, people laughing walking around in ridiculously high heels. I realized the difference last night between the rich women in Guatemala and rich women from developed countries. The women in developed countries are more realistic and generally have a what if strategy, and are more capable of doing things by themselves. For example, that girl in hellishly high heels would last a fair 2 seconds on the streets of Guatemala city (Where I was, 4 Grados is not really Guatemala city for me) before being eaten alive, robbed, raped or whatever and she wouldn't be able to defend herself. It baffled me. I guess I do the same, but still, I only wear heels in which I would be able to run after a bus or train. And believe me, I can run in heels. In 4 Grados I felt safe and happy, but somewhat betrayed by corporate America. Yes I was having a great time but I wasn't sure how to take it.

I'm almost sad to go back to sanitized America, the cool unfriendliness compared with the warm openness to help of Guatemalans. I almost want to shake them up and shout, "Wake up! Wake up! You are in a dream." Dreams are nice but you can't live in one. I'm not saying that life can't be nice. BUT you can't keep your eyes shut to what's around you. It will be more painful not understanding your country. There are nice, not pleasant things on the street corner but you're not getting anywhere ignoring it. Static life is boring.

I saw a boy on the way to a meeting today wheeled in between cars by his father begging for money. I asked myself what would have happened to that child? A landmine? Polio? Car accident? Factory work? And the sad part is that no one else with me noticed or gave it a second thought. I was with a group of human rights workers, who are supposed to care - but maybe only when working...

Saturday, January 17, 2004

Jutiapa: It's a small world after all


It all comes back to the small town of Jutiapa...If you can fry an egg on the street here in winter, what will it be like in summer?

Before I forget, I just wanted to remind people how small the world is and that everything always comes back to one key area. I guess my key areas of the moment are Bulgaria, Brazil, human rights workers/press, San Francisco, veggie hippies and Jutiapa. Yes, Jutiapa, an unknown region near the El Salvadoran border, that I never would have visited were it not for the elections. Anyway, so I was traveling around the country with someone from Jutiapa, the Wild West with tons and kilos of gun holders for new readers, we show up in Panajachel at the lake. Nothing less than seeing 7 members of her close family, cousins that she doesn't usually see. We go to Tikal, there is someone who was dating her friend from Jutiapa. In Guatemala City, we see a Guatemalan man on the delegation from Jutiapa. At Cien Puertas, there was the Austrian observer who thought he knew me from somewhere. I just noticed him as looking like a rougher version of best friend Dani's new German husband...but he stressed that he knew me. It was weird and then it came to me! Bertolth from the EU delegation... Once again in JUTIAPA.

So boys and girls, remember things do come full circle. Karma is a wonderful thing. Don't deny it. Embrace it. Now I really must work on questions. Love to all especially Georgian men on Connecticut Ave ;)

Thursday, January 15, 2004

Street kids in Guatemala, reality check number 240

Aun jueves. jueves 15 de enero 2004

Another day, another buzzy fuzz of smells, sounds, visuals...It's strange because what was once so scary is becoming almost normal. I am not sure whether to be afraid of that or to embrace it. As I prepare to leave this place that was once thought to me to be a clandestine war zone. I almost feel like I don't want to leave. But I do, As my Voviko awaits me and a beautiful amaryllis has bloomed since I have been gone. The seed becomes a plant and then flowers.


Amaryllis

My reality is slightly distorted these days. Yesterday I met with people from victims from the armed conflict and the NGO for families of the disappeared here in Guatemala City. For the moment I won't put the acronyms on the webpage just for security reasons. If you feel you need the details well, you who I should be telling, know how to contact me.

I was just thinking about all the numbers of people there in wheel chairs or with other issues. I can't help but think about the spoiledness of developed countries. These are not their realities. Nor should it be anyone's realities. I keep reflecting on these meetings each one more depressing than another.

This has been an extremely eye opening experience. People have welcomed me into their families, their lives, their sorrows, joys. Words can't even begin to describe what I have felt. Sometimes I just wanted to cry on the bus thinking about the lack of opportunities and what some of these children may never experience. "Fistful of diamonds and a handful of mud, says the lyrics...." And I feel almost powerless, but you can't give up hope.

We met up with Childrens' groups today and women's groups. There are lots of armed gangs here in Guatemala in the streets as well as tons of child labor with kids on the streets at all hours, shining shoes, selling stickers, or just begging. And the government really just doesn't care. There is a sort of social cleansing of killing off of street "trash" with 747 kids being killed last year I believe just in Guatemala city. The figure just sort of makes me sick. There is also like 7-13 shot wound victims showing up in some hospitals in the capital per night.

Anyway, I don't have much time right now to recount everything. We just went to Mixco to meet with Casa Alianza, that works with street kids, took us a lot longer to get there than expected and finally disobeyed my cardinal rule of going on buses at night but there was 10 of us. So all cool. I was slightly terrified on the bus however. The attendent of the bus was on the outside of the bus hanging on to a column from the window and shouting at people to come aboard. It really is good for cheap entertainment. I mean why can't the buses be run like this in Washington DC.


TTFN


Street mural in Guate 


other side of mural 

Wednesday, January 14, 2004

Tu querida presencia


Beautiful artwork in the bar Cien Puertas in Guatemala City of the revolutionary, Che Guevera

I have been spending the last two nights in a lovely bar called Cien Puertas, 100 doors, which is a radically leftist bar which must have amazing stories. You can usually tell the story of a place by its walls. Well, Cien Puertas is full of graffiti in many languages, has been frequented by Palestinian activists, lovers, dreamers, people affected by tragedy who have seen the worst and only hope for the best. One of the phrases on the wall which really struck me was, You must stop crying or you will never see the stars. It's true. It really is. You can't let people get you down. If Guatemalan did that there would be none left now. For there is probably not one house untouched by the horror which these peoples have endured.

I was with a bunch of photographers and journalists and I mentioned to a young reporter friend about how intrigued I was that they use tubs of soap for washing dishes instead of liquid stuff. She told me that in some places they use sand to wash dishes. It's a special sand but yet still sand. Not very hygienic, right?

After speaking with a friend of mine from Baja Verapaz, in northern Guatemala, I learned that she cannot go to university because she is not able to get a job to raise 60 dollars for tuition and books and other stuff for the term. I mean, it's like 350 dollars for a year. I decided to coordinate with our other friend to get her that money so she can go to school. It all comes back to education...If you can't get it for a better job. What do you do? maquilas (sweatshops) or god knows what else. And there goes your dreams with such a small sum of money for most developed countries. And such is the American or western dream...Destroy others when you can. So do not be fooled by this statement. I am not low in spirits, not depressed. Just absorbing to make myself stronger to become a better advocate of those who won't have their voice heard otherwise. Remember my phrase from before....If you don't stop crying you won't see the stars...... :*

PS. The moon was so beautiful tonight. Half full...and low on the horizon around 1 AM Guate time. A Swiss friend once told me, the moon is a woman, she is a liar. When she is getting bigger (crecer (Spanish) o croitre (French)) she looks like a D, when she is getting smaller (descrecer (Spanish) o descroitre (French)) she looks like a C. It's true...

Democracy?

Today begins a new period in the lives of Guatemalans, or so one may hope. Oscar Berger, of the Grand National Alliance, GANA, an alliance of three parties: the Partido Patriota (Patriotic Party), Movimiento Reformador (Reformist Movement)and Partido Solidaridad Nacional (National Solidarity Party), has taken power in the gradual process of reducing the power of the Guatemalan Republican Front (FRG), the political arm of the military and the ex-dictator, Rios Montt, who is significantly responsible for the massacres in the 1980's. Although it is a new era, the FRG still reigns in most political arenas and dominates the conscience of the most socially vulnerable in society. What I am beginning to learn about Guatemala is that nothing can be taken for granted, whether it be electricity, water, food, security, land, jobs, being paid, or things getting done on time. Nothing is sacred and everything can be violated, especially one’s human rights. Guatemala has so little transparency with regard to anything, I am surprised people still have roofs over their heads, and the richer minority has not found a way to pawn that off yet. To put it mildly, things here are grim with regard to corruption and treatment of individuals. I am not saying in any way, that there is a visible civil war with gangs slaying each other in the streets. There is violence but people do live here. Yes, there is a wonderful, amazing, generous, vibrant, courageous and spirited group of individuals called Guatemalans that most citizens of the world could not aspire to be as brave and relaxed about things.

From what I understand from our meetings with the civil society sector, most people in the countryside do not understand what their rights are. People here are not used to denouncing others and much of the abuse goes unpunished and unspoken for fear of further repercussions on their community. Furthermore, there is the problem of analfabetismo, illiteracy, so even if there is written information, few will be able to read it.

Information is vital and the most sacred article in Guatemala due to the overwhelming amount of disinformation. When only rich and military orientated people have control over the airwaves, it is difficult to let people know what is really going on. With high levels of illiteracy, what is the virtue of a newspaper? If one is unable to read, how can you insure that your rights are being protected when signing a contract? Few people know anything about CAFTA and shortly their governments will let bleed the last blood of this courageous people in the brief hope of squeezing more money into their pocketbooks that campesinos, (field workers) could not even visualize. We were speaking with an NGO for the survivors of the war about reparations. She mentioned that it is ridiculous to give a $20,000 check to someone having suffered when they have probably never seen such a large sum of money and cannot even read what it is. In three out of four of the cases, the money will go to drinking away their misfortune. Rural farm workers would probably be lucky to get a dollar a day. So CAFTA will continue to plague the Central American states until the US will lead its search for cheaper products to Asia all in the name of free trade. I find it to be a violation to invoke democratic values when mentioning these trade agreements.

The Guatemalan government is trying to portray itself as being tolerant, as to be accepted by the international community, however the only groups really considering how to build a multi-cultural society are the indigenous ones. With the ladino, colonial descendents oligarchy/non-indigenous, selling off Mayan Culture and using their token novelty for photo brochures, a strange type of racism permeates the society. The Mayan image sells to tourists, so it is being used to make a profit, but they exist in a partial system of apartheid with second-class citizenship. Ladino-produced items are for consumers more than for tourists. The level of injustice that exists when an oligarchy that is making a profit off a people, who they insult, abuse their socio-economic and cultural rights, by refusing them land, compensation for work, etc. is extraordinary. One of the airlines is ironically called Mayan Air. I think it is fair to say that there is not a single indigenous representative on the board of the airlines.

In this new “democracy”, a substantial amount of discrimination still exists on the part of the government. Oscar Berger, the new president, promised to have ethnic and gender diversity in his cabinet. At this point, one or two ministers are of Mayan background and two women are being included. For a field of reference, indigenous groups compose 60% of the population and women around 50%. As democracy means representation, or in this case, diversity, Berger would be hard pressed to truthfully call his government democratic. NGO’s representing the Maya, Xinca and Garifuna, the three predominant ethnic groups in Guatemala, believe that the mindset of the ladinos need to be changed. They feel that the youth need to learn about indigenous culture and languages. They still do not know the history of the recent civil war due to censorship.

History is a daunting and controversial topic, as the version of history that goes recorded is that of the victor. Yet, the plentitude of watchdog groups to ensure accountability and democracy that exist will ensure that the truth will come out. It is only a matter of time. In this case, it is the international community that is the counter balance. Only working in solidarity we will make a difference. For those who have been lost and those who are yet to join the movement, together we will make sure the truth is exposed.

El Mundo Justo


El Mundo Justo - a new way of looking at a new just world, just one of the many cool art pieces in Cien Puertas. 

"En cualquier tiempo en que los mapas fueron por primera vez delineados, ciertos paises habian sido ubicados en la cime, y otros abajo. Desde entonces "en la cime" "sobre" y "en le parte mas alta", estan igualados con superiordad, en tanto que "en la parte", "inferior", "abajo" y "debajo" significaban lo invertido, esos lugares totalment arbitrarios, al paso de los anos, han conducido a conceptos equivocados y opiniones erradas. Este Mapa al Reves de las Americas sirve para corregir el desequilibrio. El enfoce la atencion a nuevas direcciones hacia areas de poblaciones extensas energia y potencialidades. El es geograficamente correcto. Solamente el perspectivo ha cambiada" (as transcribed from photo)

Sunday, January 11, 2004

Lush vegetation in Livingston

We are in Livingston now having left early from Tikal to take a bus to Rio Dulce and then take the boat that Francisco rented over to Livingston, which is on the Caribbean. There is so much natural vegetation that you can almost see malaria from the thickness of the growth.

On a launch going from Rio Dulce to Livingston 


Palm tree as reflected in swimming pool in Livingston. 

There are some great photos of the Garifuna people on the photographer, Robert Leon's website

Saturday, January 10, 2004

Adventures in Tikal with Brazilian diplomats

Sabado. sabado sabado. hoy es sabado 10 de enero 2004. And what a lovely day in enero is it. Which I´m sure you can figure out to be January. So I am getting pecked by mosquitos, I think. I don´t see them but I feel something pesky. I am in the historic city of Flores, once known as Taysal. Some of the ancient Mayans lived here and in Tikal which is nearby and very impressive. It´s around an hour from here.

I managed to link on to a tour with a Brazilian diplomat named Marcio to not get lost and learn more about the monuments. Some of the pyramids were around 67 meters tall. Apparently they used burnt tree ashes to make the rocks stick together. That is definitely a LOT of trees.


slashes from chicleros. The sap is used to make chicle, or chewing gum. 

The guide also mentioned that self-sacrifices took place by letting a little blood be let on the tongue or the genitals. Sacrifices took place often to please the gods by causing wars and conquering other people and then taking prisoners. The Mayan new year is the 21st of March, the spring equinox. Coincidentally it is also the Persian new year. The Mayan calendar is possibly one of the most complex and I would love to learn more about it. Apparently the calender ends on the winter solstice of 2012. Most of it is read and then some parts are interpreted. The mini shuttle on the way back broke down and some of the Italians on board got out and pushed. There are a lot of speed bumps on the road.

So we saw a strange animal whose name I can´t remember but looks like something between a opossum and a raccoon . We also saw spider monkeys, peacocks, some other birds and another type of monkey in addition to some freakish nasty ants and bats. It started raining after we reached the main concourse where there are several high pyramids which apparently were the way the Mayans told time. It was strange. It was so warm and humid the rain was a welcome guest slightly refreshing us.

On that main concourse was where they had the market. About 90,000 people lived there at one time. Mayan ball games consisted allegedly in playing with a human head and the two players playing for the death of the other in a sacrifice. But not people from the city, conquered peoples.
Tikal, main concourse 

Friday, January 09, 2004

Cleanliness is godliness in the third world

Yesterday I washed clothes. I can´t begin to explain how exciting it was to have clean clothes. My trousers are now once again slightly covered in mud but are basically clean. Everything I had was slightly dirty and not to impressed with. But I made a chocolate mousse and some pasta in Guatemala City at Ami´s house and I was so excited to eat something that I prepared myself. They have liquor de cardamom here which is lovely. I couldn´t find cardamom itself in the store.

We may be going to Rio Dulce tomorrow to see the Caribbean and the area around Livingston. It is where there are indigenous black Guatemalans, otherwise known as garifuna. They have their own language which is a Creole-like mixture with Spanish, French, English, Arawak (indigenous tribe language) and African languages. It should be interesting.

Thursday, January 08, 2004

Do I hear 100 Quetzals?

Jueves, 8 de enero 2004

Today is a market day. I am now in Santa Cruz de Quiche. Earlier today I was in the famous market of Chichicastenango also in the Quiche department. It was full of tourists and it´s amusing the negotiating tactics. I was trying to buy an embroidered Mayan Calender, the man offered 800 quetzales, which is $100. The same thing is Panajachel, by the Atitlan lake was 600, so I told him so. And he was trying to tell me it was different. It's always different isn´t it. People from all regions of the world say that. And then they try to sell you something else really cheap that you don´t have ANY interest in having just so they don´t "waste time". I swear, it must be the must frustrating and unenjoyable job selling things in the market. Dealing with stingy tourists that probably think that you are trying to sell a higher price. I know what the item was worth so I just was trying to get a decent price. I always offer about half about what I want to pay. So I said 250, about 30 dollars. The man ended up following me down the street and 400 quetzales was ok. I said I would think about it. I ended up buying a different one, That was probably nicer, with silk thread. Eventually there will be a cool picture here on the site.

Anyway, I´m here in Quiche, deciding on my future. It´s a departmental head but it has it´s share of social ills. Interesting that you have beggers here in front of the church and foul mouthed sleazy older men making comments about my "curvas". So, It´s interesting that I guess the culture isn´t as strong here and has led to some societal ills and which is normal in globalization, but very sad.

They are teaching Mayan mathematics here as well as languages through bilingual education programs.
Mayan calculator 



Wheel of Fortune - Pick a Letter anyletter: Ways to teach Quiche to children

I am going back to Guatemala City tonight and then off to Tikal to the Mayan Ruins tomorrow night.
Definately do I have more to recount but time is but no more for today... :*

Wednesday, January 07, 2004

The Power of the FRG


The omnispresent FRG and Rios Montt looking out over the countryside in Santa Cruz de Quiche. This photo sends shivers down my spine each time I look at it.


The power of Rios Montt and the FRG can be seen miles away outside Santa Cruz de Quiche, where many of the massacres against indigenous groups took place.

Tuesday, January 06, 2004

Bouncy Buses through the Cucumatanes

Martes, 6 de enero 2004

Where oh where do I start for today? It wouldn’t just be today but yesterday as well. A lot has happened since then. As Buddha says, one is constantly changing and you never are the same you were 5 minutes ago as you are now. Life is about movement. People shouldn’t be so afraid of change. I always knew that people are afraid of the unknown but it didn’t even occur to me until today that a camera might be considered to be potential threat to a child until today. A 12-year-old girl was afraid of having her picture taken. I basically had to show her the picture of her brothers and sisters and how beautiful they looked in order for her mother to convince her in Mam, the language they speak here in Todos Santos, that she should have her picture taken. It’s a good way to get to take pictures of children, saying you’ll send it to them later on.


this little boy was oh so shy and then he loved seeing himself on film. 

Family in Zunel who were at first afraid of the camera and then I documented almost every last one of them. The women are wearing huipiles. They have a relative in San Francisco, but they didn't know her address so I could give her pictures of her family... 

So I guess I should recount to people before I continue where I am.. yup I´m in Huehue. We finally just arrived in Huehuetenango up in the north in the Cucumatanes Mountains where the Mam people are indigenously from. We have just managed to have the windshield cleaned twice within 2 minutes at 2 different intersections. Amazing. They tried to do it a third time but our local friend stopped them. Everything here is beautiful mélange of colors and faces all fading into the slow hum of the Mam languages. All the men are wearing their assigned uniforms of red trousers with black shirt with a colorful purple scarf, straw hat with a blue felt belt like ribbon around it. The men wear these black blue shorts over red trousers. Women show off brightly colored huipils or shirts with babies on their backs. I hear constant giggles and the squeal of children, catcalls, holas from children from 2 to 14 years.

We tried to go to Zunel with James´ friend Sam but he left without us as everything goes slow here in Todos Santos and breakfast took longer than expected as usual. Everything goes so slow here. We took a chuj last night, which was this amazing Mayan sauna in this small claustrophobic space. Very warm inside and very cold outside. All three of us ducked in there with the soft warmness heating up my glasses and the necklace that I forgot to remove.

So, we tried to chase down Sam but couldn’t find him so we went back to sat down by an intersection to ride in the back of a pickup with a suicide mission. They go fast over the bumps on the dirt road here. We get to Zunel and immediately become the highlight of the day. all the children smile at us and are following. I TOOK lots of pictures of children and then showed them their pictures. I´m sure some of them had never seen themselves before. One girl weaving a cloth got so embarrassed of seeing herself. There was this big happily chewing along and then peeing at the same time. Dogs barking. The constant mix of Mam and Spanish. I talk with this immigrant to the USA named Juan who is from Todos Santos telling me about his journey to the US. He tried to cross twice illegally through the desert and then finally had a Central American pay off the Miga, slang for the Immigration authorities to get let in. All of them pursuing this dream. What is this dream?

This boy was a delight to speak to. He told us about the weaving process and showed us how the fabric was made. When I send him this photo, I'll ask him about his dreams..

Self-imposed Child Labor, but he goes to school as well. 

Todos Santos


Traditional trousers worn by men in Todos Santos, Guatemala combined with drying corn to make tortillas.

Monday, January 05, 2004

The paratrooper faces the inevitable

6 de enero 2004

Anyone who considers themselves to be invincible, I challenge you to come to Guatemala and eat the street food. Or some raw salads. I don't care how strong your immune systems are unless you grew up in Bangladesh, India or even Central America itself, you will get sick. You just have to accept it. You never really know when it is going to come. It just will. I was guessing it was fruit from the day before but someone told me it could be from several weeks from before, so it was probably the street food from the plaza central on new years day. It's ok. Past history. Clean slate. So, remember how I was talking about the strobe light in my head, sortove like when you've had too much to drink and you know closing your eyes is a really bad idea. Well, that was how I felt somewhat after my last post in San Marcos. I went back to my friends house, the amazing red head in search of her arco iris, or rainbow, and ate dinner with her family and I knew I wasn't feeling too well before I was going to sleep but hell I though yoga tactics would make it pass.

Big JOKE. I ended up being sick halfway through the night and then tummy grumbling and just like drinking too much. I'll spare you the details. You may find them amusing or disgusting.... The next morning I was sick in my friend's grandmothers kitchen on the way to the bathroom. I felt so horrible and ashamed but the abuela was telling me not to have shame, o que no tenga pena...I do like that phrase. Then in the car as well. But the paratrooper, the tsiganka kept going in the car and finally felt ok and even survived the crazy bus ride up through some of the tallest mountains in Central America to arrive in Todos los Santos... koo koo she says but all in the name of adventure I suppose.

Sunday, January 04, 2004

Reminiscing in Funky Town

Domingo, 4 de enero 2004

As I sit here listening to sounds of my past, a slow lull reminds me that life is great, life is life, so says the singer...I remember hearing that song abour 7 years ago in France. By the side of the swimming pool...the single engine airplanes passing overhead. For some reason they sound nicer during the day. I guess it´s because I have this gypsy blood. For those who are reading and don´t know bulgarian or russian. Tsiganka means gypsy or gitano. When I look at a map I think to myself, I would like to go there, there and there, basically anywhere. I look at airplanes with fondness. Probably for having metaphorically growing up in one. As my father had a small airplane we took roadtrips in airplanes instead of cars. I promised myself I would learn one day, so one of you readers must oblige me to learn at one point. I remember going up in a glider with this German-Spanish pilot in Madrid. Back in the wilder of days of staying out until 7 in the morning, never going home without a cafe con leche and una tostada de aceite de oliva. Que Rico....I dream about those breakfasts. A night going out would never be complete without breakfast. Gliding above the clouds in the hot dusty summer air, floating...so vulnerable but yet full of life. They wrapped a parachute around me in case something happened, and then we were swimming in the pool...I was with Svante and Talita... Brazilians and Swedish....what a mix we all were.

Anyway, so I´m in San Marcos, a quiet little town by the Mexican border, where Carla is from. After talking with her family I´m beginning to realize the interestingness of the accent from up here. Like in other parts of the cordillera or mountain range, they can´t say the rr, they say rjay. a sortove mixture between the r and the jay...And like the non-porteños, people from buenos aires, they say jave instead of yave,meaning llave, or key.

So there is fog here like in San Francisco, which is super groovy. What I can´t stop thinking about is the fact that there are so many people walking around with heavy as hell stuff on their backs. bricks, food, branches.

Talk about hard work.

All these indigenous people walking around. From what I see from the posters they are doing a pretty good public relations campaign with getting indigenous peoples to vote here with a photo of an indigenous woman saying she will vote. Carla thinks that Rigoberta Menchu, this indigenous woman who is a human rights activist, Nobel Peace prize recipient and lawyer, could possibly win the presidency in a couple of years. Interesting thought, for some reason I think an indigenous woman would be more tolerant than an indigenous man. The thing is, to incorporate the entire population, all groups must be represented. Not just the indigenous people but the rich, the poor whites and other groups, someone respected widely by the community. Berger, the new president is doing something similar like that with Stein.

When we were driving on our way to Panajachel on the lake Atitlan, we stopped to have a coffee in this roadside place that looked decently nice. The bathroom was outside but had a nice mirror, running water, toilet paper. No soap but hey, you can´t get everything. But the poor guy who was attending to us seemed slightly slow. Quite slow actually. I asked if the coffee was nescafe or real coffee. As it was Nescafe, I declined but he seemed to think I had ordered it. And then he kept coming back to make sure the order was what we ordered. I had wanted guacamole, but apparently there were no avocados left. So i tried to order frijoles and crema, but alas, no sour cream for the beans. Apparently the man who delivers hadn´t come. When Carla showed up there, the waiter who had kept coming before wouldn´t come. So she poked her head into the kitchen. It was pretty funny. The poor guy was pretty slow in the head.

Another thing that i have been noticing is how short some of the indigenous women are. like girls of 13 or 14. around 4foot5 no more that´s for sure.


I swear the internet cafes all play the same music or at least listen to the same type of radio stations. They are playing a slow version of I have to break free by Queen, I heard the same thing in Jutiapa. Wierd... I heard the french techno song that we both like, Dani. I do think of you when I hear that. I once heard this wierd version of a song i know with a sound clip of baaaa baaaa of these sheep. Speaking of sheep, I saw a women tending to 5 sheep on leashes today. CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZYYYY stuff. Also saw some pigs on a leash.

´let me take you to funky town´ says the music. sure says I. I feel like there is a strobe light in my head with the UV protector thing on the screen. My head is spinning in circles with the music. Yes, perfectly sober am I. Maybe the altura (heights). There´s this great word in Spanish to get dizzy, apunarse, the Puna is a mountain range in argentina. My ex novio argentino did fet altitude sick when we were up there. And the gringa gitana had to drive him down the mountains. Remind me to tell you the story another day when I´m not rushed and trying to tell so much about Guatemala. But it´s a great road trip story. I really probably have too many of them. Kurt Vonnegut in Cat´s Cradle once said, Peculiar Travel Suggestions are dancing lessons from God. Reflect on that boys and girls and do something adventurous on my part... Kisses to all for the moment. Daniella chica where are you anyway? Feliz Año Nuevo, mi alma. And for my Vovichka, bueno mi amor, lo que tengo es tuyo. I will be sought soon by my boisterous Guatemaltecas. Beso beso.

Saturday, January 03, 2004

Twenty-Nine Votes!

I sit here in Panajachel amazed by the diversity of the surroundings with indigenous peoples, hippies, voracious tourists, tourism leader extradonaires and beautiful wonders of the planet.


Banana tree

I remember seeing one of these in the Botanical Gardens in DC. The flowers are such a marvel you can't believe they are real. Even more amazing are the passion flower, which I just learned are where passion fruit, or grenadillas are grown on the same plant.


The Passion Flowers from the Washington DC Botanical Gardens

The first time I tried one was during the elections in Jutiapa. Fernando, the older man who invited me into his house with his family for breakfast bought some at one of the tables a few days after entering Guatemala for the first time. Everyone had mentioned, do not eat the fruit, etc. Well, I ate the fruit and it was amazing. You have to puncture the outside and suck out the mucusy seeds. It sounds not so nice but it tastes lovely and quite honestly it was better than feasting on crackers and cookies all day.

Seriously. Quezada was the most rural place I had ever been with regards to services. Their extent of restaurants was perhaps these side cafes that most of which were part of people's houses. Hotels were non-existent so we stayed in Jutiapa. All there was to eat were hamburguesas, which there means hamburger buns as well as hamburgers. As I am a vegetarian, I think I had a Kraft cheese slice sandwich on bread and many canned fruit drinks. There also wasn't a flushing toilet, not judging just stating as a fact. Now that we have established there were few places for anything service wise in Quezada, upon meeting Fernando and announcing myself to be an international observer, the good man invited me into his house for the best breakfast I had in Guatemala. I had strong coffee with Cardamom, scrambled eggs, black beans with cheese and sour cream and toast. So simple, but perfect as it was made with love from a family that invited me in despite just having met me. I remember them saying that if the party GANA, Oscar Berger's coalition force (who is the current and new President) lost, there would be nothing left for them.

It is amazing how an election can change one's world so entirely. I still remember Fernando's son saying that. As it turns out the local mayor, who was corrupt, robbing the city, so says the opposition, and of Partido Patriota, PP, one of the parties in the coalition of GANA, did indeed not have his protege elected.

On that, I stop to think of Fernando's son and the effect of 29 votes. Granted that the town was noticeably poor. What has happened to his border post position. He was in the Civil Guard on the El Salvadorian border. Apparently if Corazon, the party that did win, were to take control, there would be no more jobs, well at least for him.

I have yet to recount the amazing counting of the votes and how it came to be that 29 people could make such a difference in their community. For the time being I will just say that it is a story I will never forget. To Be Continued.


Strange scene from Panajachel

Sabado, 3 de enero 2004


Today we went across the lake Atitilan from Panajachel to Santiago Atitlan and saw this amazing church. They say that the lake never does look the same and it is true. The majestic volcanoes guarding the lake make every glance towards the lake memorable and it never seems to be the same in photos.
This is the Nativity scene at the Mayan church with corn husks in Santiago Atitlan on Lake Atitlan 

So here am I says the fly...the fly is roaming around the countryside and now in a volcanic lake. There are many indigenous people around this area with many different languages being spoken. I am realizing every day a bit more that it is a different world in the countryside. Here there are women in their 70´s or 80´s selling things very late at night and children of like 6 or 7 doing the same in restaurants. I bought a hupile last night at this bar for like 3 dollars, not because I liked it particularily. It´s quite nice but I seriously doubted that I would fit inside of it. She really did NOT understand Spanish. I was trying to ask her something like, do you have pillowcases like this and she said that she is sleeping here because where she lives is far away. This was with gestures and seriously articulated Spanish. Oh my....I´m beginning to want to understand more and work more seriously with minority groups within countries and policies for integration into the society but maintaining their own customs. It´s just experiences like this that make me realize how much more I understand than other people and I would like to become more understanding of it.

Last night after trying on the huipile (which is a traditional shirt of the varMayanmayan tribes, there are at least 20 or so left), I was indeed right. there is no way my head was going to go through that hole and come out again so I will try to make a pillow case out of it. Anyway, so I began to ask myself how much money could it be to make one of those things if she is selling it at 25 quetzales which is like 3 dollars, we figured it must be like at least 3 days work and 25 quetzales would be enough for food for a week. It just makes me reflect back on the overconsumptiveness in America and almost makes me sick. I was explaining to the girl with whom travelinglling who was a local observer in Jutiapa (near El Salvador) that people buy things in the USA to be happy, to replace the satisfaction that they don´t get from their lives, so in turn they buy things. Everything is so self consuming. No one values what they have. People have tons of pairs of shoes cos they can. My brother, I do love you if you are reading this sweetie, but you don´t need 25 pairs of Nike basketball shoes. I mean when would you ever need that many pairs of shoes. I remember reading about in Cuba how people were stealing or trying to swindle foreigners a bit just to get some dollars instead of pesos in order to buy good shoes for their mother. It just makes me want to cry that there are so many people who have nothing and so many who have too much that they know what to do with. I feel so helpless and don´t know how to fix the situation. I'm hoping that working here with USAID will help me to get the opportunity to help more people this way.

Before I bought this huipile from the woman, we saw this hippie guy with a long beard in local Mayan dress and I swear he had half a bloody orphanage with him in addition to a very dirty street dog. Carla nearly stepped on the dog getting into her chair. One of the kids proceeded to drag the dog out from under the chair and horrifically abusing the poor creature. The kid was totally dirty. I ask myself why this guy had so many kids with him. Definately indigenous kids. Not gringo mestizo. I was wondering, where would their mother be. They kept running in and out of the restaurant and they wanted these little things you stir drinks with. We ended up giving them 3 of them. We were drinking lots of capirinyas, the tsiganka´s (me) national drink.

Lots of things like this have been preoccupying my mind. Anyway...I will continue on these thoughts inshallah...

Friday, January 02, 2004

Swaying with Marimba to the New Year

Viernes, 2 de enero 2004

I awoke this morning to see the reflection of palms dancing in the wind. Still beautiful full of possibilities. Today I am going to a Volcanic Lake called Lago Atitlan. It should be interesting. Someone let me know about I really cool fair trade finca (farm) for coffee.

I promised to relate more bit by bit bout what's been happening here so far. To let a little tease out, I was observing elections in Guatemala. One thing that really bothered me is the lack of information between here and the USA. In most of the important papers, headlines ran something like important right-wing business man wins presidency. That's it. No name or anything. You know you are hard pressed when you are president and not even your name comes into the article.

I am reminded more and more each day that there are many truths and not all of them will be exposed, which is why you must speak to many people and find out things. Dig a little bit below the surface.

We met this black Guatemalteco yesterday. There is a lot of them from Livingston on the Caribbean. Apparently, you are considered to be a murderer or something parecido if you are black here. I knew generally speaking people of Hispanic backgrounds have prejudices towards non-whites and do other cultures towards the unknown, however I thought the treatment of that man was a tad bit harsh.

So we were walking around the main square yesterday and it was like a mini Carnival came out to greet us. There were food stands, bands, vendors. The main music in Guatemala is Marimba. The group playing it had a harp, guitar and a huge xylophone with 4 guys playing it. There was a slightly tipsy man swaying back and forth in the centre doing little dancing and we were almost betting when the pins would drop, but he stayed up there, blowing kisses into the wind and shuffling around from time to time.

Bureaucratic film negotiations and fluorescent butter for soap

It is I guess 2 de enero 2003 but I don't really start counting until I go to sleep. I still should write more about what I've been doing here in Guatemala but not now as I previously had my blog eaten by the ruthless system error monster and none was left so that will have to be for later when I can be so inspired to start again. It's new years day so the inspiration will come soon. I was going to mention on how impressed I am with the Guatemalans' ability to shut down a city. I mean it looks like a nuclear weapon exploded. To find anything open in the mera ciudad as said here (the centre city) was like pulling teeth from a teethless goat. Next to impossible. Like in Spain everything has those metal door like things that go up and down. I mean it really was empty. On new years eve we were walking around and we found two bars, old fruit at a closing market, and little else until we stumbled upon a barred up tienda (store) where I bought my dinner consisting of two eggs that would be boiled, some bananas and some peach juice. All ok considering I had had a nice breakfast this morning but still. Tonight we had to negotiate our way into the cinema because the ticket office closed exactly with the last film. We made our way down to the parking lot and I proceeded to negotiate with the security guard. He finally let us in paying him. 15 minutes after the film officially started there still was advertisements.

Another thing which I noticed that is quite different is the washing up liquid here. It is in a little tub and it looks like fluorescent butter. Quite the odd thing. When I was in Quezada, Jutiapa. I had this wonderful fruit which somewhat looks like a cocoon or snot inside but it is little pomegranate seeds. The fruit is called grenadilla or little pomegranate. (Note: I learned later, more specifically in May that grenadilla and passion fruit are the same...Funny how changing languages and names plays games with your mind.)

Beautiful Clarity: New Year's Day

jueves, 1 de enero 2004

So it's a new year. New years always seems to come like a shy little girl. You don't quite notice it's there and then shaboom! It's new years. I tend to like to not notice until 2 or 3 and let it soak in. Usually it doesn't hit me till the next day. It's more fun like that I guess. The anticipation and expectation is not what I really enjoy the most. It's usually more disappointing than anything else.

So I was commenting today to someone here in Guate, I'm in Guatemala city at the moment, that new years day always seems prettier than most days. Everything seems more colourful. More full of life. More vibrant. Perhaps it's the quasi catatonic state of either sleepiness or just having been drinking the night before. Either way, I've always seemed to pass new years day with laziness. It's a slow day, that wanders back and forth and never disappoints because well it's new years day. A new beginning. Perhaps that's why I don't like new years eve that much. It's an end. I'm of the firm conviction that things shouldn't end. There's no reason. They just keep going in varying states. The countdown is just like a hateful little child to me. It reminds you of everything you haven't achieved. Is that really what you want to be doing? Anyways. Today is new years day and it has been a lovely one.