Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala - Trip #10

Today was our last day in Santiago Atitlan and it was the day that we had been most looking forward to ... the reason that we came.

Today was the 25th Anniversary of the day in which Fr. Rother was brutally killed in his rectory, only because he tried to help the poor people of Santiago.

We got up early enough and had a simple breakfast. We wanted to visit the Rother shrine in the church before the crowds arrived. There were already a few people there and we noticed that more flowers had been brought in. Also, the booths surrounding his memorial had been expanded to include written histories of Fr. Rother and quotes from his letters. There was also a place where people could leave their own thoughts and reflections.

We noticed several Americans there, later learning that they were Oklahoma priests that had travelled down on their own, separate from the Archbishop's party. Mark and I spent some time there and prayed the morning office together.

Next we visited the Rother chapel in the rectory, a place that I had been many times before. Now, the cabinets housing Fr. Rother's personal effects were opened and the chapel too was festooned with flowers and candles. It was poinant to be there on his anniversary. It was good to be Oklahomans remembering another Oklahoman.

We soon met up with members of the Archbishop's party. Instead of taking the ferry over from Panajachel, this time they had opted for a bus - a full size tourist bus! How it made it from Panajachel and through the streets of Santiago, I'll never know. It was really quite fun to see.

There were no seats in the church reserved for the group for the memorial Mass, so we all scrambled for space as best we could. I eventually ended up with a quite good seat, more than half way up to the altar and just off the main aisle. I'm not sure how I managed that. Mark attempted to find the other seminarians to see if he could help serve Mass, but ultimately he found a place behind the altar.

The Mass was incredible! Bishop Raul Antonio Martinez, Bishop of Solola, presided, accompanied by Archbishop Beltran and many other priests from Oklahoma, San Lucas, San Pedro and elsewhere.

People were jammed into just about every available space, overflowing the doors into the old cloister and down the front steps of the church. Easily 3,000 people. The music, the incense, and the pageantry was amazing for a humble man from Oklahoma. I wonder what he would have thought of it all?

Most of the Mass was done in Spanish, but parts were done in Tzutujil too. The only English spoken came at the end of Mass as greetings and gifts were exchanged by all the dignitaries.

Once Mass was over, the plan was for the group to go to the Posada de Santiago for lunch. We knew that getting the folks on the bus and over to the Posada was going to be an ordeal, so Mark, Tracy and I joined the staff of the Amigos for a fleta ride instead.

We managed to get there about 20 minutes before the bus. Apparently the bus created quite the traffic jam as it tried to negotiate the streets. Wish I'd seen that!

Before sitting down for lunch, the group traveled on to the Peace Park and the mudslide area of Panabaj. Here the Archbishop led us in an explanation of the events surrounding both locales and led us in a prayers and songs. It was very nice to be a part of that.

Today was our really only absolutely free day! Our plan was to get up early enough to catch the 7am ferry from Santiago to Panajachel.

One thing we never really figured out was something that I had never encountered in all my other trips to Guatemala. Apparently, Guatemala has a version of daylight savings time, except that many people take it upon themselves to ignore it.

The locals kept referring to "official" time and "Antigua" time, which were one hour apart. I'm still not sure which one is which, but we managed to arrive at the muelles (piers) an hour early for the ferry. Go figure.

After waiting for awhile, we took one of the "fast" launches to Panajachel, which was fun, but a little less picturesque than the slow boat.

Lake Atitlan

Once again, we managed to arrive in Panajachel before most of the restaurants opened. So after killing some time and looking around a little bit, we finally sat down at a restaurant that has an overlook of the lake. An incredibly beautiful scene, with all 3 of the major volcanoes in the distance, a little fog on the water and clouds rolling in. It was worth the wait....and the wait... The staff of the restaurant took their sweet time in bringing us coffee and then our food.

We did have some entertainment though. A group of high school aged kids were practicing for some sort of dance competition or performance at a place next to our restaurant. They were so self conscious, especially knowing that a couple of gringos were watching them. It was quite fun!

After breakfast and the obligatory walk through Panajachel, and visiting the local parish, Mark and I "negotiated" a boat ride from Panajachel to Santa Catarina - the next town to the east along the lake. We did a pretty lousy job of "negotiating" and paid about 3x what it was worth.

The ride was beautiful and we got to see some really pretty views of the lake. The town of Santa Catarina was really not that special. It pretty much looked like most of the other towns, so a a bit underwhelming.

We returned to Panajachel and took another boat back to Santiago.

Later this afternoon, Mark and I went over to Juana's house to look at some computers that she has. All of them had some sort of problem or another or needed to have their virus software updated. It is always such a problem working on computers there. So often these days, you have to get online to either download updates or validate new software or something. It is always tricky getting a good connection and expensive since they have to pay for the minute for each call. Nonetheless, after several hours of work and chatting with Juana's brother, mother, Pascual and Juana, we had done all the we could do.

After a rather late dinner at the office, Mark and I noticed that the church was still open. A bit surprising since it was around 11:00 pm. We decided to check it out.

As the festival was still going on and people were still lining up for the ferris wheels, etc., we had to weave our way through the streets, past the fried food and taco vendors and the festival games. We climbed the steps up to the church, we found that a vigil of sorts for Fr. Rother was going on around his monument.

A man, I guess one of the religious education teachers, was addressing about a hundred people who were listening. A book called "The Shepherd Cannot Run", a collection of letter written by Fr. Rother, was being used to tell the story of the last months of his life and about how he was murdered. It was a very moving experience to be a part of, even though it was being conducted in Tzutujil.

Another full day, and one more to come before leaving Santiago.

After the heady excitement of the Feast of Santiago yesterday (even though it is still continuing today), Mark and I were invited to join the OKC group for a visit to the Minnesota mission in San Lucas Toliman.

After an egg breakfast, we met the Amigos staff at the office for the 30 minute trip. A hired picop (o fleta) arrived and we all climbed into the bed.

The winding road, the unpreditable pedestrian traffic, the harrowing other vehicular traffic, and the incredible view of Lake Atitlan and the volcanoes made it a memorable trip. I discovered that the Santiago way of disposing of their trash is to put it all in a bag and when making a trip to another village, stop on a deserted stretch of road, and dump it on someone else's property. Sad.

We arrived in San Lucas and proceeded to the Parish of San Lucas, a mission run by priests from the Diocese of New Ulm in Minnesota. Fr. Greg Schaeffer has been there more than 30 years and knew Fr. Rother personally. I can only imagine what it was like for him to be there before, during, and after the civil war, and to know and experience the death of Fr. Rother. I wish I could have spent some time talking to him.

the parish church in San Lucas Toliman

The mission has a wonderful operation there - many things that it would be nice to have in Santiago. We visited the construction site for a women's training school, a coffee production facility and a medical clinic. (This is the same clinic we took BP to in 2005 when he developed a "gall bladder infection").

Returning to the church, we had Mass with the Archbishop, followed by a very nice lunch of beef, broccoli, fruit, bread, and cookies. I tried a new imported beer called Brahma. Decent.

I bought a couple of lbs of coffee beans from their plant. I can't wait to try some of it when I get home.

We had quite an adventure returning to Santiago with the staff. We caught the local chicken bus for a careening ride past Cerro de Oro to Santiago. The driver had a lot of faith that there would not be any opposite traffic when taking both lanes to make some switch back turns. The drive even got an occasional "whee!" from Juana. Mark didn't look so good, a little green at one point.

The festival was still continuing when we arrived. More music and an odd contest. Men were trying to climb a 40' pole that had been greased with animal fat. The first one to the top would win the prize of Q500 (about $80). They were at it for at least 4 hours. I never did hear if anyone won it.

Tired, we returned to the office and made a chicken stew with rice, carrots, green beans, potatoes, onions (and some chicken gravy mix that I brought from home - I KNOW it's cheating, but the only other spice in the office was cinnamon). It could really have used some black pepper.

Our humble rooftop kitchen at the Amigos de Oklahoma office.

I spent part of the day working on Juana's office computer. I had brought a CD with an English/Spanish translation program on it, but as with all things Microsoft - it would not work on Windows XP, only versions earlier. Go figure.

After dinner, it was late, so we just called it a day and watched the town from our lookout. The festival was still continuing, but thankfully, there were no fireworks.

Sleep just wasn't going to happen. That was our conclusion at 4:30 am when the sky opened up with a tremendous and thrilling fireworks display over the Church plaza.

The Feast of Santiago (St. James the Apostle) began!

After the barrage, the church bells began to peal, summoning the faithful to the plaza. Mark and I went to our rooftop view and were amazed to see whole families hurrying to the Church in the predawn hours. Soon, a band struck up and by following the sound and the moving fireworks, we knew that a procession through the town had begun.

We hurried down to the corner to see the procession approaching. Women, all wearing the Tzutujil traditional "traje" led the parade, carrying a banner for the Accion Catolica group. They were soon followed by candle carrying members of the parish. As the musicians passed we could see several men carrying the scarve and ribbon bedecked statue of Santiago, on horseback and carrying a sword. (I believe this is the image of St. James as Matamoros from Spain).

One of the statues of Santiago on display in the plaza.

As the procession made its way through town, it eventually made its way back to the Church for the first of four Masses. This one began about 6:30am, to a packed church, all the people dressed in their best, mostly traditional, dress. It was thrilling and the whole town buzzed. Mark and I wondered what the evangelicals do on such a Catholic feast day.

A packed church for Mass.

After briefly following the procession, Mark and I returned to the office for an egg breakfast, and a wait for the Archbishop's group from Oklahoma City to arrive.

The group from OKC arrived about 10am, after taking the ferry from Panajachel where they were staying. The group consisted of mostly elderly people, relatives of Fr. Rother, priests from the OKC diocese, and Archbishop Eusibius Beltran. The only Tulsan in the group was Robert LaFortune, former mayor of Tulsa. A fine man! We were greeted very cordially by the group and stayed with them while we waited for Mass to begin.

We arrived at the church to find it packed, but space had been reserved for the group, for which I was very thankful.

The Mass was presided by Archbishop Beltran, assisted by a local deacon and Fr. Anthony Taylor from OKC. The other American priests present and the local pastor, Padre Pedro Gabriel Mus, concelebrated with the Archbishop.

Archbishop Beltran celebrating Mass

The archbishop gave his homily in Spanish (later translated into Tzutujil) and spoke about the ties between Oklahoma and SA and the legacy of Fr. Rother. It was simple, but I thought very appropriate.

At the end of the Mass, strangely after the procession had left the church, one of the local seminarians spoke in English to the visitors. He very passionately welcomed us and greeted us as brothers of the Tzutujil. I was quite impressed, especially since he was so nervous.

After Mass, all the Oklahomans present, including Tracy, met at the Amigos office for a catered lunch from La Posada. Tracy's friend, Dr. Leah, from the Hospitalito was invited as well. It was a nice lunch, very cordial. I was lucky enough to sit near the Archbishop and to talk with him a bit. He seemed more interested in Tracy and her family, but I am from the "other diocese."

A thunderstorm set in later that afternoon, so we ultimately sat around the office and chatted with Tracy and Leah for quite awhile.

Meanwhile ... the festival continued. More scream and yells from the ferris wheels, trampolining, video games, soccer games, live music on stage in the town plaza, fried chicken vendors, street tacos, and many many merchants selling all sorts of goods. It was glorious, in a strange Tzutujil way.

I should mention more about the soccer games. They use a strange set of rules since it is played on a basketball court. The most obvious rule change is that the goalie cannot throw the ball directly to any player, but must bounce pass it. I guess this is to avoid the temptation for him to throw it into the opposing goal, which seems quite possible.

Even watching soccer, the spectators are very quiet and watchful. Only once did I see anyone cheer for a good play.

Approaching the church, we noticed that the Cofradia had moved all the various, and variously decorated, statues of Santiago out of the church and down to the bottom of the steps. As they stood guard, they smoked heavily and took shots of whiskey. I can only imagine that it is part of the "Maximon" cult of the Cofradia.

As a band played, the Cofradia proceeded to get very drunk. Some of the men danced together. Some of them fell down and passed out. Most of the others were rather oblivious in their rather reserved way. It was a marvel to see, even if I don't quite understand the Tzutujil way.

Drunken Cofradia dancing in the church plaza.

We eventually returned to our rooftop vantage point and called it a night. A long but fascinating day.

The day began early - fireworks at 5am. When I write "fireworks," you shouldn't think about the nice sparkly kind that you see on the 4th of July. These are actually small artillery shells that explode with a bang loud enough to, literally, wake the entire town. Since Santiago Atitlan (SA) is in a valley surrounded by volcanoes - the explosions echo for 5-6 seconds each. Seriously!

We waited at the office until about 9am, thinking that we would meet up with Juana's brother - Francisco - so I could do some work on their computers. Somehow we missed him and hunger eventually drove us out into the street. Otherwise - all we had was coffee.

We ran into my friend - Tracy Pepper - in the town plaza. Tracy has been in SA for 2 1/2 months working on an AIDS research project. We made plans to meet up for dinner that night.

Off to the El Pescador restaurant - one of two restaurants that I know about. The Desayuno Chapin was on tap - a traditional breakfast of scrambled eggs, yellow rice, refried bean paste, fried plantains, fruit, toast, and coffee. I think it was about Q22 - or about $3. It really hit the spot! Especially since we hadn't really eaten anything for about 18 hours.

Checking back at the office and finding that no one had arrived, we took off for a walk out to the neighborhoods of Panabaj and Tzanchaj. We discovered that the once dirt road had now been PAVED. I was amazed ... and a little saddened. The old dirt road, and the perilous cliff along the lake was gone and lacked some of its old charm. But the progress was needed in order to serve the needs of the 3,000 people living in temporary housing out there.

We stopped briefly at the Parque de la Paz, the Peace Park, scene of a brutal massacre of 13 townspeople in 1991. Another of the tragedies of the civil war.

Walking on, we came to the village of Panabaj, or what's left of it. This poor neighborhood on the south side of SA, along the shore of Lake Atitlan, was terrorized by massive mudslides in October, 2005.

After Hurricane Stan inundated Central America, the sides of the Atitlan volcano gave way and descended on this town. Only 80 bodies of an estimated 750 were recovered. There's an eerie-ness to the view. The color of the mudslide exactly matches the surrounding soil, making it look like it's always been there. Only the half buried buildings, the destroyed huts, missing trees and unnatural level-ness of the ground betray the scene.

We walked through the parrochial enclave where the homes built by the Newman Center and Oklahoma parishes were built. I found the house that has the plaque with my name on it.

Most of the houses were abandoned, the people forced to move out and either living in SA or in the temporary housing camp in Tzanchaj. This area is always so bittersweet. We have spent so much time an effort in building these houses, have so many good memories with students, area families and the wonderful children. Now to see it a ghost town, and abandoned, but also tempered with the knowledge that these stone homes definitely saved lives when the flooding and mudslides came through. So while the homes were short-lived, they were worth the time and effort. Thanks be to God!

After the walk back into town, we bought a few things in the market. I experimented with some apple turnovers. I've never seen apples in the market before, so I occupied myself while we waited for our dinner rendezvous with Tracy.

We met Tracy right on time in the town plaza and headed back to El Pescador. Tonight's dish was Pollo Encebollado - baked chicken with a grilled onion sauce. It was pretty good, but I have to admit that my stomach was a bit uneasy all night after that. We met several of Tracy's friends - other American volunteers at the Hospitalito. A very nice time, but a gringo experience - nothing to Guatemalteco about it.

After dinner, we walked around the festival. We watched people who were watching the ferris wheels, or were watching soccer games, or were watching other people watching these things. The Tzutujil are a quiet reserved people and very patient. If they were not actually playing the games or riding the rides, they very quietly watched all the activity. Not much talking, no cheering or waving. If there hadn't been music or ride noise, it would have been rather quiet.

I learned a new Spanish phrase: Ferris wheel = la rueda de Chicago. A Chicago Wheel. Interesting!

We also visited the parish church - la parroquia de Santiago Apostol. The outsides and insides of the church are freshly painted and I'm sure that a new tile (azulejo) floor has been installed. The Padre Apla's Rother (Stanley Francis Rother) memorial has been cleaned, painted and adorned with an enormous banner. Friday will be the 25th anniversary of the his death, killed by a military death squad. You can tell that the people honor his memory by the reverence shown for his memorial.

Back to the office for more foam supported sleep, interrupted by firework bombs, dogs barking, and deliveries to the Gallo Beer distributor next door.