{"id":1549,"date":"2015-04-22T17:38:29","date_gmt":"2015-04-23T00:38:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/?p=1549"},"modified":"2015-04-23T08:40:31","modified_gmt":"2015-04-23T15:40:31","slug":"guatemala-the-color-and-passion","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/?p=1549","title":{"rendered":"Guatemala: The Color and Passion"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"A<\/a>

A woman with her textiles<\/p><\/div>\n

It is 3 AM and I roll over, fumbling in the dark for my iPhone alarm as it erupts with incongruous church bell sounds\u2014a clanging that awakens me from my dream. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. It is Good Friday, and I remind myself that I am in Antigua, Guatemala, with my friend, Sister Judy Bourg. We are here to participate in the festivities of semana santa<\/i> (Holy Week), and the action starts in the middle of the night. \u00a0The last time I awoke at 3 AM was to nurse an infant, and that was a long time ago.<\/p>\n

\"Judy<\/a>

Judy and Peg in the garden, Antigua, Guatemala<\/p><\/div>\n

My first fuzzy thoughts this early morning are that arising at 3 AM is a little crazy, given that we are two women traveling in one of the most dangerous countries in the world (according to US State Department warnings). It is pitch black outside, and we will be sitting ducks walking the streets at this hour.<\/p>\n

\"Good<\/a>

Good Friday and the women of Antigua<\/p><\/div>\n

I throw some clothes on, and take a lot of deep breaths. Our humble hostel does not provide coffee until 7 AM.<\/p>\n

I. Must. Wake. Up.<\/p>\n

We both enter the street and are met by Roman soldiers on horseback, equine hooves clattering on the cobblestones. \u00a0The costumed soldiers juggle their spears as they text on their cell phones. Groups of men dressed in purple satin robes line up in preparation for their part in this Passion Play, while thousands of the faithful head toward the main plaza to view the processions of Holy Week. Immediately my fears subside. I feel no danger here. Instead, I am swept up in the throng of children, parents, and travelers who have come to witness this spectacle of color, drama, music, and art.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>

The streets are filled with copal, the incense of Holy Week<\/p><\/div>\n

I see artists on their hands and knees constructing the alfombras<\/i>\u2014the carpets of exuberant color and design created\u00a0on the cobblestone streets. \u00a0Brightly hued sawdust, flowers, grasses, and vegetables make up the palette. All city traffic stops for the next 18 hours while people create tapestries of beauty in these climactic days of semana santa<\/i>. The art is transient. \u00a0It will disappear when the processions slowly trample over the intricate designs later in the day.<\/p>\n

\"Alfombras<\/a>

Alfombras with birds<\/p><\/div>\n

Judy and I spot an espresso shop and we both sip the miracle of caffeine. I never had a bad cup of coffee anywhere in Guatemala\u2014from the tiniest outdoor vendor to the barista preparing the cappuccinos and mochas. A woman sells me a delicious empa\u00f1<\/span>ada, filled with pineapple, warm from the oven. We munch on this goodness while waiting for the procession, listening for the mournful dirge of the timpani and the slow ponderous music of the band. It is 3:45 AM, and there is nowhere else on earth I would rather be than standing in this crowd on Good Friday. \u00a0I feel safe, nurtured, warm, and alive. \u00a0And very awake.<\/p>\n

\"Watching<\/a>

Watching the creation of the alfombras, the street tapestries of Antigua<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Children<\/a>

Children help create the alfombras<\/p><\/div>\n

In most of Latin America, the big day during semana santa<\/i> is Good Friday, the day of the crucifixion. The focus seems to be on the trial and suffering of Jesus during the last days of his life. Easter Sunday and the message of the risen Christ are almost an afterthought. There are no Easter bunnies and colored eggs in Guatemala. Holy Week builds toward the drama of Good Friday.<\/p>\n

\"Timpani<\/a>

Timpani set the cadence<\/p><\/div>\n

Warming our hands around hot cups of coffee, Judy and I wait in the darkness for the dramatic procession to begin. Men and boys in their purple hooded robes fill the streets swinging incense holders of copal, and a pungent smoke fills the air. It is a purple haze of people scurrying in preparation for the processions. \u00a0A faint distant drum beat penetrates the early morning darkness, and soon I hear a funereal march played by a band of musicians dressed in black. The timpani sets the tempo, and the two copper drums are pulled on a cart as the timpanist walks behind, keeping a slow, steady cadence.<\/p>\n

\"Christ<\/a>

Christ and the cross<\/p><\/div>\n

Then come the andas\u2014<\/i>the floats carrying Christ, followed by his mother, Mary. Eighty or more men struggle carrying an anda<\/i> weighing over 1000 pounds. \u00a0The float sways back and forth precariously. \u00a0The faces of the men grimace under the weight. Women dressed in black carry the anda <\/i>of Mary, Christ’s mother. Their faces are solemn, devoted, and focused. \u00a0They are in another world.<\/p>\n

\"Women<\/a>

Women carry the Blessed Mother<\/p><\/div>\n

The whole spectacle creates an emotional impact that takes me totally by surprise. The expressions of the men struggling to carry the anda<\/i> seem to reflect the suffering Christ as he carries the cross. It doesn’t matter if you believe this Christian story of pain and redemption. The drama of the music, the andas<\/i>, and the faces of the suffering touch a deep chord. The audience is hushed. People are in tears.<\/p>\n

\"Peg<\/a>

Peg and the alfombra in Antigua<\/p><\/div>\n

I am not a person to dwell on the suffering and agony of Christ’s death on the cross. My idea of Easter Week is more in line with the \u201cHallelujah, He is Risen\u201d spectrum of things. But I was dumbstruck by the intense emotion of the semana santa<\/i> procession. The facial countenance of the men and women carrying the andas<\/i>\u00a0says it all. Life is damn hard. And suffering is a part of it. We won’t sugar coat this. We will persevere.<\/p>\n

\"Woman<\/a>

A face of Guatemala\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0(photo: Judy Bourg)<\/p><\/div>\n

I have no answers to the suffering I see in the world. Witnessing the trauma each week at the comedor<\/i> often silences me. I have no words. The images stay with me. The migrants are frightened and often alone.<\/p>\n

And yet, their sheer doggedness and oftentimes blundering attempts to cross the border wall and get to a better place humble me. Many people make it. \u00a0Many don’t. \u00a0Their anguish somehow makes them stronger. Even time spent in US detention centers builds strength and determination. People change when faced with danger and suffering. The courage of the migrants transcends their suffering.<\/p>\n

\"Procession<\/a>

Procession through the market of Chichicastenango<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>

A monk and his iPad<\/p><\/div>\n

The people of Guatemala and all of Latin America understand the dynamic of suffering and strength far better than I. Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning, <\/i>explores the idea that there is meaning in suffering. \u00a0He makes the point that suffering is a part of life, as is love and death. Life is not complete without these things.<\/p>\n

\""More<\/a>

“More poetry, less police”–graffiti in Guatemala City<\/p><\/div>\n

I think of Frankl, and his survival of the Nazi death camps. \u00a0I think of the passion and creative expression of the people of Guatemala. But most of all, I think of my migrant friends crossing the desert of Arizona, doing their best to survive and preserve their human dignity.<\/p>\n

\"Women<\/a>

Women in the market<\/p><\/div>\n

They are all my heroes on this Good Friday.<\/p>\n

\"Children<\/a>

Children of Chichi<\/p><\/div>\n

My book, A Land of Hard Edges<\/i>, is now available in most bookstores in southern Arizona, your local library, or Amazon.com.<\/p>\n

Please direct comments and thoughts to the \u201cComments\u201d section of this blog.\u00a0 Peg Bowden can be reached at:\u00a0 pegbowden1942@gmail.com<\/p>\n

If you wish to receive regular postings to this blog, register in the\u00a0Announcement<\/strong>\u00a0List<\/strong>\u00a0space in the right-hand column, and you are automatically on the email blog list.<\/p>\n

The\u00a0Green Valley\/Sahuarita Samaritans<\/strong>\u00a0is a non-profit organization; the mission is to prevent deaths in the desert.\u00a0 Information and contributions can be directed to:\u00a0 www.gvsamaritans.org<\/p>\n

Kino Border Initiative<\/strong>\u00a0directs the activities of the\u00a0comedor<\/em>\u00a0in Nogales, Mexico.\u00a0 The mission is to help create a just, humane immigration policy between the United States and Mexico.\u00a0 The website is:\u00a0 www.kinoborderinitiative.org<\/p>\n

The\u00a0Border Community Alliance<\/strong>\u00a0is an exciting new organization in southern Arizona focusing on the economic, cultural and humanitarian needs of the Arizona borderlands. \u00a0BCA is now a 501 3(c) nonprofit entity.\u00a0 The website is: www.bordercommunityalliance.com<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is 3 AM and I roll over, fumbling in the dark for my iPhone alarm as it erupts with incongruous church bell sounds\u2014a clanging that awakens me from my dream. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. It is Good Friday, and I remind myself that I am in Antigua, Guatemala, with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1549","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1549","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1549"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1549\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1577,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1549\/revisions\/1577"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1549"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1549"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.arroya.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1549"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}