A little old lady...

...at the bank today showed me first-hand what illegal immigration to the U.S. means for Guatemalan society.

I went to Banco Agromercantil, one of the smaller institutions, to get change for my 100 Quetzal bills (important lesson from Guatemala: having 100Q bills is equivalent to having no money at all. Hardly anyone can change them, and the few places that can are so expensive you'll end up spending most of the bill there anyway). The bank was nice and modern, and could've been any bank in the U.S. South aside from the numerous armed guards who are an ubiquitous installation at every bank and distribution center in Guate. I sat down at the desks in the entryway and waited for a nice lady to tell me I was in the wrong place to get change. Then I proceeded around the corner, where I found a familiar line-and-cashier sort of arrangement like we're used to in the States. There were only a few people ahead of me (unlike the more popular BanRural, where there are always at least 2,500,000 people waiting in line) so I slipped into line and re-counted my 100Q bills for the twentieth time.

As I waited my turn, I noticed this little old lady in traditional Maya dress a couple of turns ahead who tottered up to the cashier (her face barely reached the counter) and handed him a slip of paper that apparently served as a notice to pick up a money transfer from the U.S. The cashier retired to the back room for a moment and came back with a healthy stack of 100Q bills. He told the little old lady that she had received something like 2500 Quetzales (the equivalent of about 333 US Dollars) and she smiled and nodded slowly before tottering off on her little cane.

Now, this little old lady could work 60 hours a week on a farm, harvesting corn and beans to survive. She could wash clothes for wealthier Ladinos three days a week to get by. She may be the only adult in a household of grandchildren whose parents have immigrated or were "disappeared" during la Violencia. But thanks to some relative, a child or grandchild or cousin who immigrated, probably illegally, to the U.S., she is able to continue supporting herself and god knows how many of her relatives. Anyone can tell from a glance at her worn clothing that she isn't wealthy, but thank god she isn't starving either.


I don't have to think hard to imagine what life would be like for this lady without her remittances from the States. I've seen it. I've seen the exhausted, defeated look of people half her age, resting on their weary knees in the doorways of abandoned buildings in the rural pueblos around Xela. I'm aware of how miserable the salaries are for hard-working farmers and service personnel here in Xela, much less in the poorer remote areas that aren't bolstered by us relatively wealthy gringo tourists. Like any developing country or region, Guatemala has many hopeful people who simply lack opportunities to advance. There are brilliant minds that go without education for want of a few dollars each month to afford uniforms and school supplies.

In many societies around the world that most of us would consider without hesitation to be "primitive," the elderly are cared for by their neighbors as a matter of course. Even if a person has no children to support them, the society contributes something, enabling the person to live their final years in dignity. What do we do for our own grandparents and parents in their elder years? What do we provide for our own children, so they may grow and prosper?

When it's time to decide what to do about the "immigration problem," I hope politicians and citizens alike take into account the global repercussions of their actions. We're not just talking about people who risk their lives and sacrifice their family ties to come and work their asses off in the U.S. doing jobs that no one else would accept, for less pay than we can humanely justify. We're also talking about little old ladies in Guatemala, and children in Haiti whose education depends on a monthly stipend from cousins and siblings cleaning motel rooms in Florida and New York. We're talking about whole families who squeak by each month on less money than we spend in a weekend vacation trip, and who miraculously manage to save a little bit so that their children's dreams may someday be realized. But it's a fragile, frail thing, and building walls along our borders will do absolutely nothing to stave off the hunger that drives these people to look for something more, something fulfilling and hopeful.

As long as the U.S. has a disproportionate share of the world's wealth, people will flock to
seek their fortunes therein. And rightly so. It's time to spread the wealth. Every human being has a right to live with dignity, regardless of which parcel of dirt we happen to occupy upon being born. We're all alike in the eyes of God. We're all equally human and equally valuable, however different we may be.

"All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God." -- Thomas Jefferson

Tikal and the Worldtree

The longest and most rewarding trip I've taken so far in Guatemala has been to Tikal and Las Flores, far north in the Peten department. The area surrounding the archaeological park is a wildlife reserve, which makes for wonderful views of the natural environment and its inhabitants. We saw crocodiles/alligators, a coatimundi, a fox, howler and spider monkeys, wild turkeys that look similar to their peacock cousins, and all kinds of colorful birds (excluding the quetzal, unfortunately).
The downside of the whole trip was that we traveled two nights in overnight buses. We spent 9 or so hours in transit between the capital and Las Flores. I managed to sleep a few hours on the trip to Peten, but I hardly caught a wink on the way back. It took me almost a week to get back on track.

How many gringos can you fit in a van? We made room for fifteen, plus several people's entire luggage. That's not to say we had leg room. I traveled with my knee in my face for several hours.

At least we traveled in style. Benz, baby.

Our bathroom stop, about halfway between Xela and Guate City. No need to travel further, guys. We're already at Tikal!

^ Everyone's anxious to get back on the road. Hotel Tikal just isn't all it's cracked up to be. ^

On the other hand, Patrick looks pretty excited.

In Guate City, we ate dinner in the food court at Tikal Futuro, a big modern mall that our guide considered the only safe place in the entire city.

Here's a posterized pic of Melissa and Patrick in the food court of this gaudy, creepy mall.

After 4 hours in a minibus, 2 hours in a food court, a 9-hour overnight bus, and another hour or two in yet another minibus, we finally arrived at Tikal, perhaps the world's most naturalistic theme park. Above is the park map at the entrance. We toured most of the area depicted, not that I could find my way from one complex to the next. I remember studying this site in great detail in Maya Archaeology class, but without reviewing my notes I couldn't remember much of the significance of its layout.

Everyone was anxious to unpack and change into skimpier clothing for the hot rainforest weather.

^ Scenes from the forest around Tikal ^

^ Shot of a reconstructed temple structure ^

You can just barely make out the raised snout and eyes of this tiny lil cocodrilo. Alas, my camera doesn't have the power zoom that those national geographic guys use. The guide informed us that the papa croc ate the largest of his male offspring, perhaps to prevent future competition.

^ Just a friendly reminder ^

Pictured above is the Ceiba, the national tree of Guatemala and a sacred monument in the Maya religion. The enormous tree is representative of the world-tree that holds up the sky and leads (with its roots) into the underworld. Standing before such a tall and imposing tree, I could certainly understand why this species held such importance for the Maya, and why the current Guatemalan government would adopt it as a national symbol.

Another important tree is the Copal, the bark of which is used in important Maya religious ceremonies.

In this picture you can see a "strangler fig" latched onto a tree. Eventually the strangler fig will overpower the host tree, using up all the available nutrients and light. The host tree will die, termites will eat it, and the fig will remain as a hollow structure that other animals might use as a shelter. Nature, red in tooth and claw.

The ground was littered with these strange flowers. The grass is bright white at the center. To me it seemed like we were walking on little stars.

This is the first temple we encountered and climbed on our tour. I believe it's the temple in complex Q.

Our guide explained the echo effect between the two twin temples in the main plaza. The buildings were designed to function as amplifiers for the priests who shouted from their summits.

The group listening to the guide explaining something. Rebecca's ready to climb some temples.

^ The group rests atop one of the larger temples at Tikal ^

Here, the group is standing atop the Temple of the Masks and photographing its twin, the Temple of the Jaguar, across the plaza. Or vice versa. I forget.

Temple of the Jaguar, in the central plaza of Tikal.

A modern-day Maya religious altar, in the plaza between the twin temples. Followers of the traditional Maya religion burn copal resin, candles, and various types of offerings within the concrete ring.

^ Rebecca's unique climbing style ^

Rebecca and Julie taking a rest during one of their temple climbing workouts

Here's a view of the backside of one of the smaller temples

And the largest temple at Tikal, looming over the tree line.

My auto-photography from the top of the tallest temple. You can see the background that was used in the original Star Wars movies.

^ Me again ^

Here's a group shout taken above the tallest temple at Tikal

^ You can't just climb up the steps of this one. They're still being reconstructed. But there's a fancy wooden stairway system to get you to the top. ^

^ Lydia en route to the top ^

^ Looking down from the top of another temple ^

Tommy and Sarah atop Temple Q


We spent the following day relaxing along the shores of Lago Peten Itza. The above are shots of the gorgeous landscape along our drive to the beach.

And Lago Peten Itza:

Las Flores is an almost-island city connected to the mainland by a constructed strip of road. It's a pleasant little town, though nearly strangled by tourists. We found a little restaurant run by a group of ladies. They only served what could be called entrecomidas: tostadas, pasteles, and various delicious finger foods. The flan was a welcome surprise.

^ The main church on the island ^

This organization provides education about STDs and child development. They also appear to operate a "Sex tip" radio station or program. I wonder how much of it is really "tips" and how much is simply "wear a condom."

AIDS is a salient topic in Guatemala. Near the beach where we passed the day, this sign warns that "AIDS kills, but you can avoid it!" It goes on to list the most common means of transmission.

Lydia looking smashing at the restaurant in Flores where we ate lunch.

And to end this entry, a photo of me and Julie and Rebecca after dinner. Come to think of it, I believe this is the last photo I took of us together. Julie and Rebecca scrambled off to Belice after the Tikal trip.
If you girls are reading this, you'd better drop me a line!

The gringo is back!

Hola a todos mis amores!
I apologize for being silent so long. Rest assured that I am safe and sound and enjoying my time in Guatemala. I've been occupied with meeting people and learning Spanish and exploring Xela and the surrounding pueblos, but now I'm back online and I intend to share some of my experiences.

First, however, I'd like to send a shout out to my newly engaged friends Ben and Andrea! Felicidades, guys! Make sure you invite lots of hotties to your wedding. Maybe I'll meet someone.

Anyway, where to begin? I find that my photo log tends to jog my memory, so I'll just start posting away and see where it takes me:

This is a panoramic view from the rooftop of my house. Click on the image to see the full size version.

This is an example of the older architecture of some public buildings in the historic district. I think this particular building is or once was a bank.

This is a monument to the Mexican president Benito Juarez, in Benito Juarez Park near La Democracia market.
In this detailed shot, you can see the use of Mayan (and maybe even Aztec) symbols in a modern monumental form. Who was this Benito Juarez guy? He was the only full Native American to serve as president of Mexico. The story of his life makes Abe Lincoln look like a rich kid: Both of Benito's parents were peasants, and by his fourth birthday he was an orphan. He worked as a shephard until he was 12, then he walked to Oaxaca in search of education. In the political history of Mexico, Juarez's tenure is regarded as La Reforma. He worked to increase rights for Mexico's indigenous population, made the government more federal (and established civilian control of the army), and appropriated all of the Catholic Church's lands. He is still fondly remembered in Mexico (and apparently in Guatemala as well), although the presidents who followed him contributed to the dismantling of his social reforms.

Directly across the street from Parque Benito Juarez stands the Iglesia de San Nicolas -- the Church of St. Nick. I'm not sure if the main building is still used as a church, but the surrounding buildings house the Universidad de Mesoamerica. Perhaps the government appropriated the property, following Juarez's example. They're busily restoring the main church and the wall that surrounds the complex with a sky blue paint.

This hot iron surface is a tortilla maker's workshop, deep inside La Democracia Market. Lydia and I asked if we could take the lady's picture, but she didn't feel properly made up to be in photos. An interesting fact about tortillas in Guatemala (and presumably elsewhere in Latin America) is that limestone is a principal ingredient. I'm not sure exactly what is the purpose of adding limestone -- perhaps it serves as an abrasive agent to help grind the corn into meal -- but any home-made tortillas in this country are bound to contain some little quantity of the rock. I'll try to get a picture of the little old men selling chunks of limestone in little plastic bags.

Well, this tiny update is just the beginning of a flurry to come. I have tons of pictures to categorize into more meaningful groups, and then I'll post updates for each group.

Stay tuned for the truly interesting stuff, including howler monkeys at Tikal, wine and cheese Bajo la Luna, and the 9-hour hike from hell!