Friends on Adventure to Guatemala: MY FAVORITE DAY...JERALD HEAD

On the third day of our trip, we went on a tour of the villages of San Andres, and San Juan Chamula, in the state of Chiapas, Mexico. We were lucky to have Alex Aranda as our guide. I really did not see our group as one to follow behind a guide with a raised flag or umbrella, and fortunately this was not that kind of tour nor was Alex an average tour guide. He knew these people, their history, culture, and traditions. One of my goals on this trip was I wanted to learn, not just see, but learn. As Charlene said in my favorite sitcom, “Designing Women,” when asked about knowing so many random facts, “I love knowledge, Mary Joe, in fact I yearn for it.” These are some things I learned on my favorite day.

Our guide, Alex Aranda, showing samples of various corn types.

I learned when we arrived in San Andres, what it feels like to be a stranger in a totally alien culture, and what it feels like to be regarded as “the other.” There was no way to hide, no way to blend in, and it felt extremely uncomfortable. However, I think it is a good thing to know how it feels to be perceived as “the other.”

The church at San Andres

I learned to always wear a hat. My favorite day resulted in a major sun burn causing me to peel like a reptile for the remainder of a trip. Normally, I would have worn a hat, but I was certain my wide brimmed Panama would have made me conspicuous on our visit to the Mayan villages on market day. Perhaps if I had worn my majordomo hat I would have fit in and prevented a sun burn. Then again….

Sun-burned Jerald resplendent in his hat from Chiapas

I learned that the Pentecostals and Seventh Day Adventists have a strange hold in the region as well as in Guatemala. But unlike Guatemala where the evangelicals have risen to become members of the governing elite, in Chiapas they have been cast out as “expulsados,” driven from the villages if they turn against the Mayan way. I know my way around evangelicals and have seen shunning first hand, but this is different. I continue to wonder about the appeal of these sects in this culture and what is it in these sects that make them more appealing to the Maya. I’m just saying, I didn’t see a bunch of Episcopal churches popping up in the area.

I learned a new word, “syncretism”. I found it in a book about the Maya and the Catholic Church, and saw vivid demonstrations of the word that day in the two village churches. Religious syncretism is the melding or blending of two religious belief systems into one and what I saw that day in those churches was the unique and strange mix of the Mayan and Catholic faiths. I have found what I witnessed is difficult to describe without trivializing the experience. I do not want to reduce the experience to the death of a chicken. I saw so much more than that.

I learned in the church at Chamula that there is a level of suffering and anguish that even after 20 years in medicine, is beyond my comprehension. I witnessed this in a man whose deep sobs literally racked his body. I could only bear a few seconds of this, partly because I felt like a voyeur, but mostly because I was so shaken by his suffering I had to leave his presence and the church as well. A better person may realize that by bearing witness to the suffering, one could honor the man, but I could not. I am haunted by this memory.

The church at San Juan Chamula

I learned in a small mud brick home that certain things do transcend cultural and socioeconomic barriers. There is the hospitality of opening your home to strangers and offering them what food and drink you have. There is the pride that comes when your craft is appreciated. I also learned that children are children whatever the context. That they love to play, slide down a hill, crawl on the backs of trucks, and that there is one thing that they all respond to, desire, even dream about, that matters above everything else and that thing is CANDY.