Guatemala Journal Dec 20

Guatemala Journal

December 20, 2005

Xela (Quetzaltenango) is more foreign even than I imagined. Streets are narrow and houses and stores front right on the narrow sidewalk. The sidewalks are high and narrow enough that it is sometimes safer to walk in the street. Drivers rocket through them, honking at unwary pedestrians. The part of Xela which houses the school is low, having been a lake in the past. Some streets have concrete and iron bridges over them, dating from the days before the lake was drained for houses. Much of this part of the town suffered flooding and mud damage during Hurricane Stan in October. There are still piles of mud against some curbs and driveways, but most of it is cleaned up by now.

Projecto Linguistico Quetzalteco Español is a friendly face on a street where everything looks the same. Bright ochre yellow, the door opens onto a courtyard full of desks with students and teachers. There is coffee and tea in the café and a room full of internet-abled computers, free for the first half-hour. The library has games and films as well as books in English and Spanish. There are trips to local spots through the week and lectures about various human rights causes. PLQ is revolutionary. They are deeply involved in the struggle for true democratic institutions in Guatemala, and have strong connections to the local indigenous culture, where the profits from the school are distributed to provide opportunities which otherwise would not be available.

Today several of us took a trip to Olintepeque, a village higher up in the Quezaltenango province. There is a large indigenous population there, and today is market day. The market was full of chickens old and young, turkeys, geese, and ducks. Christmas is coming and the local people make special tamales. They are made with rice instead of corn and filled with meat and olives or with raisins and other sweets. The market was full of all the ingredients for Tamales Natividad, plus every other imaginable item from laundry soap to shoes and local fabrics.

The indigenous women wear skirts which are two panels of dark patterned weaving wrapped around their waist and tied with a patterned, floral belt and an embroidered apron tied on the front. Most of the colors from this region seem to be dark. The skirts are most often indigo with a white pattern woven in. But blouses and belts are bright with embroidered flowers on a light ground, pink or coral or lavender. Even the girls are usually dressed in handwoven colors. In Olintepeque, almost all the women wore indigenous clothing top to bottom, but here in the city, you are likely to find any combination local fabrics and European fashions.

My host family lives about six blocks away from school. Lila and her daughter, Marie-Jose, are my hosts. They are very patient with my poor Spanish, and lack of conversation. Their house is pretty primitive, but, I think, about average. There is no heat, but my room has sun coming in all day, so it is warm. It is hard to live with someone and not be able to talk to them. I have a million questions to ask and lots of stories to share, but I can´t. Some days it is really frustrating and makes me sad.

I meet with my Maestra every day for five hours and we converse in Spanish. I am getting to the point where I use my dictionary equally for Spanish and English, but it is still such an intellectual process to produce a sentence or two. I alternate between being proud of my progress and discouraged that I´ll ever learn. I look forward to what the rest of the week will bring.