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.
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(For reference, the title of my blog, jun b'ey chik, means "again" in translation, but literally it means "another path.")