A Sweet Despedida

ANTIGUA, Guatemala -- My lovely Common Hope library colleague Lynn organized a little surprise going-away party, or despedida, for me. It was nothing fancy -- sweet bread from local bakery Dona Luisa's, shared with a handful of other volunteers and about a dozen of the regular kids.

I'm a long-time fan of Dona Luisa's banana bread, but now I'm a convert to the orange-chocolate bread, too. (Bread is a misnomer; it really is more like pound cake.)

The kids seemed to appreciate it, too. With no wiggling, the occasional giggle and very little talk, they settled in to devour three or four slices each.

Every now and then, I will read an article that ponderously tries to debunk the belief that sugar makes young  kids hyper. Parents always find this laughable, and I am reminded why. Our usually mild-mannered, shy little girls were all on turbo-drive half an hour after they finished the cake. It was like having a flock of a dozen hummingbirds working on jigsaw puzzles.

(Because the party was a surprise, I didn't have my camera with me. The photo here is one that I took in the library last week. Note how all the kids in it are sitting still.)

Second City

QUETZALTENANGO, Guatemala--Fortunately, most people call this city by its nickname.

"Quetzaltenango" means, roughly, "place of the quetzal,"--the Guatemalan national bird--in one Mayan lanaguage. (There are more than 20 living Mayan language.) The city's older name in another Mayan language is Xelaju, or roughly, "place of the 10 leaders." So people call it Xela, pronounced Shay-la.

It's the second largest Guatemalan city and the long-time trading center for the largely Mayan altiplano, or high plane,  area. (It's at an altitude of almost 8,000 feet.)  I made a quick visit this past weekend, just because I've never been there.

Xela is no Guatemala City--and what a good thing that is! The capital is the financial, cultural and intellectual center of this country. It's also crowded, filthy, polluted and dangerous. (Hey, that's probably the most generous description possible!) Xela is smaller, less crowded and cleaner. When I asked the young reception clerk at my downtown hotel whether it would be safe to walk around the neighborhood at twilight, she said sure, just avoid dark streets. In many neighborhoods of the capital that would simply be unthinkable.

Xela is also significantly less touristy than Antigua, the town where I have been living. In other words, it's the kind of small city where people actually live. Take a look at these photos. They focus on the downtown area; I didn't get to many residential neighborhoods.

Queman el Diablo

ANTIGUA, Guatemala--Maybe I was a little too close. After all, I was able to smell the gasoline they used to set fire to the devil, and at least one of the flying cinders hit me. The firefighters were certainly farther away.

At 6 p.m. on December 7, Guatemalans burn the devil. (Why 6 p.m.? No one has been able to explain that to me--just because that's when it's done.) Supposedly, the custom began in 1776 in Antigua, when people set fires outside their homes to light the way for a procession in honor of the Immaculate Conception, the feast of the Virgin Mary that is celebrated December 8.

The custom now is followed throughout the country. The idea is that you take the trash out of the house and burn it, to symbolize cleaning out all the bad things from the previous year and preparing for Christmas. These days, they try to discourage individual fires. For instance, there was an article in one newspaper today about all the environmental damage such fires can do if people burn plastics, tires and the like.

Instead, the sanctioned way to follow the custom these days is for a town to burn a replica of a devil--a  statue, a paper figure or the like. Here in Antigua, a papier mache-looking statue of a devil has been set up on the edge of town for more than a week. For the actual ceremony today, they moved him about a block. (The plaza where he was originally situated is bordered by two gas stations. Go figure.)

People gathered about an hour in advance, to eat street food and plant the kids in a spot with a good view. One of the traditional bands that usually plays in religious processions serenaded the crowd, which eventually filled about three blocks. Vendors sold devil horns (very popular). The master of ceremonies also wore a devil costume. I'm not quite sure why, since the idea was to annihilate the devil. Still.

After some satiric comments by MC Devil, someone set flame to the gasoline-soaked sticks that surrounded the devil statue. He went up with loud cracks, as if some firecrackers had been stuck inside the papier mache. The TV newscasters who were broadcasting live kept talking, although I think at least one of them moved a few feet away when the flames were at their crackling-est.

As the fire died down, some of the crowd dispersed. Others remained to eat more street food and watch a nearby performance by some scantily-clad Gallo Girls (young women sponsored by the big beer company) who danced on a street stage to loud contemporary Latin music.

The devil-burning was the big attraction of the night, but as I walked home, I skirted several little fires set in the streets outside houses, in what I'm guessing is the traditional manner. Several hours later, firecrackers are still going off somewhere nearby, and people are still wandering the streets in devil horns.