Line dancing with Mayans

While we were in Panajachel, every night we had a "culture night" planned. Sometimes the teachers were in charge, sometimes the students. The idea was cultural exhange, and events ranged from dancing, singing, showing pictures of New Orleans post-Katrina, showing pictures of an archeological site, making Navajo tacos, giving a summary of a Mayan epigraphy conference, and so forth.

One night, however, another student in the program and I decided to teach one of THE original US music and dance forms: country line dancing. Our goal was participation, so after explaining the origins of the form and showing a brief YouTube example clip of country line dancers in their "natural habitat," it was time for a demonstration followed by several rounds of dancing! We taught them two variations and danced to three songs: "The Boot Scootin' Boogie," "Don't Be Stupid (You Know I Love You)" and "Chattahoochee." Our group is a jolly one anyway, so you can imagine the crazy joking and laughing that was going on whilst trying to figure it all out. It.was.hysterical. And tons of fun.

Coffee

On Saturday we visited San Juan la Laguna, which is one town over from San Pedro, on the other side of the lake. San Juan has undergone some community projects, mostly of a public service nature. They bought land to make their own landfill and have a trash service, they built public recreation spaces included a covered amphitheater/soccer field, they got funding from the Riecken Foundation to build a public library, and they have a whole slew of weaving cooperatives, most of which use a natural dying process. It is a Tz'utujil-speaking town, which is a close relative to Kaqchikel.



Although my search for Maya documentaries at the library came up empty-handed, in the afternoon we took a tour of a coffee cooperative called La Voz que Clama en el Desierto, which is comprised of around 175 families. The farm is certified organic every year by a US company, and the majority of the coffee is exported to San Diego, USA, where it is toasted and packaged for further export, under a fair trade label.

To be certified organic, they made their own natural fertilizers out of cow and horse manure and the pulp from the coffee beans that is naturally shed in the process of cleaning and drying the beans. The coffee is shade-grown so that it doesn't need expensive irrigation. The types of trees that can give shade and compliment the coffee plants are specific, and include avocado trees, banana trees, and another kind of tree that is mentioned in the Popol Vuh (the Mayan sacred text). Here you can see the coffee growing below the trees.



At one point in the tour, you could see the difference between their organic coffee plants, and the non-organic plants of a neighbor. The difference was huge! The organic plants were gorgeous and lush and a deep green, while the plants that used chemical fertilizer were light green and stringy.

In 2005 shortly after Katrina hit the US, there were huge mudslides on that side of Lake Atitlan which destroyed many houses and killed many people. Our guide showed us where you could see the difference between the old level of top soil and the new one, after the mudslides. Ironically, while the mudslides also destroyed many plants, it also rejuvenated the soil, making way for better crops in the future. The old level is where the small fence is, and you can see the dirt that now covers the plant:



After the tour, they gave a very small weaving demonstration and offered to let us try weaving. I jumped on that bandwagon! So the woman strapped me in and struggled with my weaving incompetence. Eventually I got the hang of it, even if it was short-lived:

Market Day

Almost every town in Guatemala has its market day, for which people come from all over to buy or sell goods. These goods can range from dried or fresh fish to fruit to huipiles to pirated DVDs, and so forth. From the few markets I've experienced, market day can range anywhere from the level of fun one associates with a carnival (and there is indeed copious carnival-like tasty food), to a giant disorganized mass of people which prevents one from walking.

Here is the view from our hotel in Tecpan when we arrived:


And here is the view from or hotel on market day (during which it was actually sunny and warmish, certainly an oddity for Tecpan.


On Friday we went to the market in Sololá (Tz'olöj Ya') for class. The market was significantly larger, since Sololá is the capital of the Department (like a county, so Sololá is kind of like the county seat) that we are currently occupying. I took this picture while we were sitting on the chicken bus waiting to head back down the hill to Panajachel. You'll notice that the men in Sololá still use their traje, something that is not very common, as women are usually the ones who preserve the Mayan dress in daily life.

Intro to Panajachel

Due to popular demand, I'm posting an entry although I don't have pictures ready to post yet from the end of our Tecpán trip. There's not much to say really, but I wanted to post some pictures of market day.

We have now migrated to Panajachel on Lake Atitlán. Pana itself is mostly a tourist town or a point of departure for other towns around the lake, some of which we have explored already. We went to San Pedro twice - once by accident, and once with the class. The by accident occurred when on Sunday we decided to take a public boat (think public bus, but a boat) around one edge of a lake to see the other small towns on that side. The boat was supposed to make stops and end up in San Pedro, which is a hippie town we had also visited two years ago. But once we were all on the boat, everyone was going to San Pedro, so instead of taking the scenic route around the lake, we went straight across. We had no need to go to San Pedro, so to make our trip not totally a waste, we walked around the town. We ended up in the same restaurant as another member of the class who was in San Pedro doing her field research, so we had a very pleasant lunch with them in a very hippie restaurant. On the way back we did manage to get a boat that went around the edge, and the day was gorgeous, so all in all the day was quite pleasant, even if it was an accident.

The next day we headed to San Pedro again with the class to hear a talk by a woman who works with plants both for healing purposes, and for making natural dyes for weaving. All of it was very interesting and left me with a strange to desire to boil plants.

So far the whole process of doing exploratory field research has been going pretty slow. We did have a ceremony at Iximche with our class, so I observed and participated in that. I've been reading some, so that gives me ideas. I wouldn't worry too much about having ideas right now, but we are required to turn in a written project and give an oral report for the class, so that's a bit concerning. But tomorrow I'm going to see the Maximón statue at Santiago Atitlán with another student and the two Daykeepers (shaman) in our class (here is the story of the Maximon). So little by little I'm learning things.

Tecpán and Iximche'

The past two days in Tecpán have been remarkably charming. The town itself has a population of around 60,000 people, and it's just outside the archaeological site of Iximche', which was the Kaqchikel capital when the Spanish arrived to Guatemala. (By the way, Iximche', which translates literally as Corn Tree, is breadfruit - for those of you Lusophonites who may know about that. There is a large tree in the center of the city that is THE Iximche').

We have been enjoying the small-town atmosphere here. There is a central plaza, which does lack a certain aesthetic charm, I have to admit, but where everyone congregates in the evening to eat and play basketball at the central basketball courts. So after the first night - and with the help of one of the students who was in the Peace Corps here - we discovered that the food vendors in the plaza are not sketchy and unsanitary, unlike what you would find in most of Guatemala. So we've taken to getting dinner from the various vendors (corn on the cob with lime and salt, tacos, and atol - a drink traditionally made with corn but here also made with rice with or without chocolate... think cream of wheat), which makes dinner come to a grand total of around $3 per person. And the food is some of the best I've had in Guatemala. Then we stand around the non-operational fountain in the center, watch people play basketball, and feed the street dogs as nighttime slowly falls. It reminds me so much of a small town you would see anywhere (like Germantown), and something is so nostalgic about it.

This morning we were divided up into teacher-student groups and were assigned something to buy at the market. Which means I had my first successful Kaqchikel-language market transaction! We bought 18 avocados, not too complicated, but I learned a few things about the quality of different kinds of avocados.

Then we took all the things we'd bought in the market to Iximche', where we prepared the food for a picnic. After touring the area and eating, one of the instructor's wife gave a basket-weaving demonstration. The baskets look like this. Very interesting and highly impressive!

After that it was time for a soccer game, of course! I played and fell in the mud several times, as did Terry. I also learned that field hockey goalie is not equal to soccer goalie. But it was tons of fun, and I was later thanked for sacrificing my body for the good of the team.

Learning Kaqchikel is serious business

As you can clearly see in the above picture, our daily classroom environment is highly serious. We don't laugh or make jokes at all. Everyone stays politely seated. Nope, no fun at all.

Some of you may remember my post from last year about the day we learn animals. Since it's all communicative, this requires acting out the animals while repeating the vocabulary words. And as I posted last year, one of the funniest parts was when Aq'ab'al acted out the dog. Of course, being communicative, once the instructors act out the vocabulary to present it, then it's the students turn to get in some good ole TPR and act it out themselves. And guess who got to be the dog this year?



That's a rabbit and a cow on the floor with me. Thanks to Ixnal for capturing this precious moment on my camera while I was debilitated as an animal on the floor.

While I'm in the business of embarrassment photographs, here is one of me with Ixkem and her two-month-old baby boy Kame'. Two of the instructors have babies who are several months old, so it's really cute to have them around the class. Kame' seems to think it's hysterical whenever anyone speaks English.




I did manage to buy one more huipil. The region around the town of Santiago Atitlán, on Lake Atitlán, has this gorgeous pattern of hand-embroidered birds. Typically they have a lot of different colors of browns and such, but I found this gorgeous one with all shades of purple. Now I have to figure out how to wear it, since it feels so formal in comparison to other daily ones! This is what the top half has (this is just a section). Each bird is maybe 2-3" big.



And by popular demand, those of you who wish to see me in the huipil-faja-jeans look may do so here. That is a Nahualá huipil, and it has the double-headed eagle pattern. It's my smallest one (it's really like a preteen size) - the others are just more blousey.

Tomorrow we head for Tecpán, which is higher in elevation and is supposed to be cold. We'll be there for a week before heading to the Lake Atitlán and Panajachel.

Santiago Sacatepéquez

On Wednesday of last week we went to Santiago Sacatepéquez to visit the home of one the instructors, Aq'ab'al (aka Gonzalo), who is also the instructor I had for private lessons for two weeks last summer. Here he is... as you can see, I am normal sized or even *gasp* tall here, which is probably the only time in my life I will be so. This photo is from the first weekend in Antigua, when Judie had her 60th birthday party.




During our trip to Santiago Sac, we also had class in the morning. Since Terry and I had both gotten to know Aq'ab'al last year, Terry wanted to see Aq'ab'al's house, so he came along. While we were having our usual morning class, he went off to entertain himself. Finally during one of the breaks I found him and discovered that he had been appropriated by a small (and adorable) child. This is Aq'ab'al's nephew, William, who is obviously delighting in Terry's dramatic enactment of the "bottle game."





and this was "crash-things-into-each-other game"


Meanwhile, in the afternoon, our class divided into groups and made kites. Those of you who have taught Spanish 104 may remember the mention of Santiago Sac in the Dia de los Muertos reading, saying it's famous for its huge kites. We received a talk about the history and meaning of the kites, and then got to make some of our own. They're made entirely of bamboo, string, tissue paper, and glue.

Here is my group (group 3) working on our kite. The whole process took about 2 hours.



One of the women in our group is a weaver, so she was in charge of deciding what colors to use. It turned out beautiful, I think... our kite is the one in the middle with the three dots! The three dots are the Mayan number 3, since we were group three.





All very lovely, if I do say so myself.

And finally, the gringo parade as we left Santiago Sacatepéquez:

Traje and giving the matyoxnïk

Ok, I admit it. I gave in. I bought traje to wear (*please note that is not me in the picture. I know the resemblance is striking.*) Sometimes other students will wear a thinner huipil untucked with a faja (like a belt) and jeans, and it looks colorful and pretty and not like the strangest thing you've ever seen. Almost like a babydoll tee. I knew I needed to get some eventually for the closing ceremony of our class, but I always felt a little strange sporting the huipil-faja-jeans look.

But then this weekend I was talking to another student who's been coming here for a couple of years, and she told me about how she never bought any traje until she had to go to linguistics fieldwork in small towns. She discovered that wearing the traje was important to not calling too much attention to herself and to being accepted enough to be able to interview speakers.

I'd never thought of that. But given how important clothing is to the way in which Guatemalan Mayans show their identity, it makes perfect sense. As I posted about in an entry from last summer, each town has their own distinct set of clothing through which the origin of the wearer can be identified. So if I ever manage to make it into the field on this trip, traje isn't merely part of an eagerness to adopt everything pertaining to one's area of interest, it actually has a useful purpose.

So, I went through the 75Q ($10) bin at Nim Po't and, with the help of one of the instructors that works there, found a couple of pretty huipiles that go perfectly with a faja and jeans. I wore one today and got several compliments, so I suppose my fear of "invading" another culture's customs weren't actually founded.

Today in the afternoon we went to San Antonio Aguas Calientes for a weaving demonstration by one of the former instructors. Beforehand, the director of the program was talking to another student and I in Kaqchikel about this afternoon, and in my usual language-toddler manner, I was generally nodding and ah-ja'ing as I attempted to figure out exactly what was being said. Little did I know - but soon found out - I had unwittingly agreed to be the person to give thanks at the event this afternoon. This linguistic faux pas was apparently hysterical, but luckily I recuperated my language skills enough to be able to ask one of the instructors to help me write out the thank you speech (full of standard politeness formulas, as you may imagine) beforehand. I was nervous as all heck in the moment and totally thought I blew it, but I was told that what I said, however it came out, sounded good. Better than it really was, I'm sure. I was saved by the fact that nearly half of my audience does not yet speak Kaqchikel. Phew, crisis (temporarily) averted.

Linguistic clarity

Even if this past week was tiring, it ended up being rewarding. In sessions with individual instructors on Thursday and Friday morning, I experienced some surprising moments of linguistic clarity that I hadn't experienced before with Kaqchikel.

I suddenly began to think of learning a language as trying to see through a window, and all of the words and sounds that we don't understand act as dirt on the window that prevent our seeing what's happening on the other side, the message being conveyed. Because speaking a language isn't just understanding what the words mean intellectually, really speaking a language occurs when you can understand what is being said without having to translate it for yourself. You can stand in front of the window and see what's happening on the other side. It's a distinct intellectual knowing, being able to understand a language. And somehow in listening to people talk the last two days, I experienced little flickers of that linguistic clarity. Not having to sit and ask myself, "now, what was that sound? what was that verb?" but really seeing the events on the other side of the window.

Of course, we were telling stories about dogs and oxen. So I still have a ways to go before having more verosimil conversations, I suppose.

xk'ïs ri nab'ey wuq'ij ~ End of week one

Week one of classes is almost over. It's been a bit of a slow process to get my feet off the ground again (that first written homework assignment took me way too long), but little by little I'm scraping the rust off my Kaqchikel language skills. Another intermediate student and I have been working with a couple of instructors separately from the rest of the class, and since we're all at different levels and it's difficult to hold an extended conversation on one topic, we've been telling stories - that way we get practice both listening and speaking. I learned the first day that it's easier to try to tell a story that you know - like Little Red Riding Hood - than to try to both make up a story on the fly and to try to think of how to say it in a foreign language. But at least the story was interesting, even if it did take me ten minutes to form every verb.

Wednesday was a national teacher recognition day, so the whole class went to Pollo Campero (read: Guatemalan KFC) for lunch, which was a very nice review of the very important Mayan eating customs. As you're eating, you say to random people around the table, "so-and-so, kawa' " meaning "so-and-so, eat," to which they also respond "eat" to you. The implicit fun in this is waiting until the person has a mouth full of food before you address them. After the meal, you tell everyone around the table, "matyöx chi nuwäy" ("thank you for my tortilla" metonymically meaning "thank you for my food"). The proper response to this is "ri ajaw xya'on " ("god has given it"). This is not as tedious as it sounds, since as a common custom, the whole process has a formulaic sing-songy rhythm that makes it possible to address many people efficiently yet respectfully.

As the last day of the week, tomorrow we have to turn in our project proposals, for which we're required to work with one or more of the instructors. I've talked some with an instructor I met last year about working together - trying to commit as few blunders as possible in the process and frankly not really succeeding - so I'm looking forward to an interesting five weeks.

jun b'ey chik...

I've returned to Guatemala for yet another dose of Kaqchikel classes! I'm continuing to post in my blog from last year, so all of the previous posts are from 2007.

This year I am officially with the Tulane program Oxlajuj Aj', and even though we've only had two days of class so far, it's been a lot of fun and a good review. The classes are lively, and in the breaks I've been enjoying having the opportunity to meet the other students and ask them about their projects, or practicing my Kaqchikel and asking the professors about what they do. That part's always a bit limited, but hopefully that will improve somewhat by the end of my seven weeks here.

There have been quite a few changes in Guatemala and Antigua specifically since last year. Not only have they finished part of the airport, but perhaps of equal note is the presence of WiFi all around Antigua. I'm currently posting from my EeePC from the common room of our bed and breakfast, and many of the cafes in the area have free wireless, or wireless for a small fee. It appears that for better or for worse, technology is trickling into Guatemala.
'
(For reference, the title of my blog, jun b'ey chik, means "again" in translation, but literally it means "another path.")