Well, I must say that the bed & breakfast was muy agradable ("very nice," for those of you who don't wish to refer to your online Spanish to English dictionaries), but I knew that it was a very temporary arrangement--kind of like a vacation in the middle of, well, my vacation, really, although this isn't really a beach-and-a-book kind of experience. I moved into the school last Tuesday, and I finally feel as at home as I can feel in a space that isn't really my own. There are enough creature comforts (a GREAT shower being at the top of the list (how completely gringa of me:))) that I am no longer in fear of my intestinal health plus I can cook my own meals and do my own laundry. The women who were doing these things for me are utterly sweet, but no thank you, I really don't need my underwear ironed, and, gee, how about NOT frying those bananas, and just letting me eat them raw?

Another common occurrence that makes me feel at home is the occasional loss of power. For those of you who do not live on or near Vashon Island, we who do live there are very used to candles and cold showers, especially during the holiday season. So when the school "forgot" to pay its power bill, we went 36 hours in the dark. I got a lot of sleep. Before Anne left, we had also lost power, but only for about 4 hours. Still, all the little touches of home help:).

Also be fore Anne left, we went on an actividad (figure it out--it is a cognate) to a place of spiritual importance for many Guatemaltecos, especially some of those of Mayan descent. I think I want to tell about this place, and Anne, if you have a different take, feel free to add to my observations. Here goes:

Maximon (pronounced Maa-she-moan), also sometimes called San Simon, is a revered figure who purportedly lived in Guatemala at some very unclear time in the Past. Some legends say he was a Catholic saint gone a bit renegade, others that he was an indigenous person who did good things. Still others trace the origins of Maximon to ancient Mayan religious figures/dieties. Anyway, we got on the camioneta (chicken bus) in Antigua and traveled for about 1/2 hour to a pueblo whose name I cannot remember. We entered a compound of sorts that had a grass field and a very large cement-paved courtyard that was completely covered in the black, charcoaled remains of small fires. In one corner of the courtyard, a man was burning something (maybe clothes?!?) and chanting prayers. Next to him stood a woman and child, and behind him two men played guitars and sang. Our teacher said that most likely it was the man's birthday, and he was praying to Maximon (actually, here he is called San Simon, but I like the sound of Maximon better) for health and prosperity in the coming year. She went on to explain that those who follow Maximon believe that he can grant both good and bad requests. She then pointed to a place on a sidewalk off to the left. It also has the remains of sacrificial fires, but is much smaller that the courtyard. It is place supplicants go to offer sacrifices to support requests for things like pain and injury to an unfaithful lover, or financial ruin to an enemy. I think she also said that whores and dealers and other less repsectable folk used that particular spot to make sacrifices. Apparently, Maximon, like Jesus, hangs out with sinners.

On the opposite side of the courtyard stands a building,which is the local shrine/temple/church where people also go to worship. There are no actual services, but I think they do have meetings of some sort. Here's where the blurring of things Catholic and things pagan occurs: in the front of the room stands what I can only say resembles the front of a Catholic church, where, instead of a crucifix, a huge imagen (life size dolls, in Lisa's vernacular) of Maximon sits on a chair, elevated high enough to be in full view of the entire building. Directly to his left, only slightly less elevated, is another imagen, kind of like the Virgin Mary but not, in regalia as fully ornate as those found in La Iglesia de La Merced in Antigua. Furthermore, the entire room was filled, not with pews, but metal tables lined up just like pews in a church, covered with candles of various colors. And now I want to describe the imagen of Maximon, cuz, omigod, not at all like Jesus, or San Fransisco or Saint John Vianny or any other venerated Catholic VIP. Maximon is decked out in a black suit, kind of like the ones that Ackroyd and Belushi wore in Blues Brothers. Now that I think of it, Maximon looks like a third triplet, because he also wears a black hat and, yes, sunglasses. And around his feet are strewn the offerings that please him most: people leave money and bottles of booze and packages of cigarettes for him to enjoy, and carved into his face where his lips would be is a hole the circumference of a cigar. With a cigar in it. I have not had success in determining why the booze and smokes, and no one is really clear about what actually happens to the stuff, but they are the things that please Maximon.

I am not sure why a most of the Spanish language schools take students to the place where Maximon is worshipped because I have yet to have a conversation with anyone who actually believes in him. In fact, most people areveryquicktopointout that they DO NOT believe in him. My own teacher, Elsa (I just have to say again that she is the BEST teacher in Antigua), a Mayan woman, told me that her very Catholic church in San Antonio believes and teaches that Maximon is Judas Iscariot reborn. A curious belief indeed for a church that decidely does not hold to the idea of reincarnation. The spiritual world is a crazy place.

All of this sounds like I am making fun of another creed, so let me please point out that some of those who worship Maximon are dualists in that they also faithfully serve the Catholic church (but decidedly not Elsa--she is 100% catolica). Furthermore, the faces of those whom we saw worshiping were intensely ingrained with awe and reverence and deep sincerity in their supplications. I was hugely embarrassed by a couple of my fellow students who chose to take close-up photos of worshippers and the two young kids who decided to play with the melting candles and wax. It was kind of like if a couple of Buddhists came in and decided to play catch over the heads of Sunday morning worshippers because it was raining outside and they were, after all, bored.

I do not hold to the creed of Maximon. I do believe that the God and Creator of all things hears our prayers, no matter where we are when we voice them; thus, I lit a pink candle--the color of healing--and prayed for the health of my husband, daughters, sisters, mother, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, son-in-law and brothers-in-law and everyone else I could think of.

Tomorrow morning at 7, Gabi from the escuela, Nuestra Futura (Our Future) will come by to show me how to get there. I begin work as a teacher's aide/tutor. So once again, my life here in Guatemala is about to change...
!paz a todos de vosotros!
Jali (Spanishly phonetic for Holly)