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Millennium Madness
Dec. 29, 1999
San Antonio Palopó, Guatemala
Greetings,

This is the post-Christmas, pre-millennium meltdown edition of the Guatemala Gazette. Here we are in the final days of this millennium, facing a big unknown-- what will happen when Y2K finally arrives? There is a pretty good chance the computers here in Guatemala won't be working on Jan. 1st. I say that not because I believe all the Y2K doomsday hype, but because here they don't work half the time anyway.

Of course, it is still seems a miracle that they work at all. Guatemala is modernizing quickly, at least in some areas, and things such as computers, cell phones and satellite television are getting pretty common.

Faye and I have chosen to spend the turn of the millennium in the village of San Antonio, on the shore of Lake Atitlan, where we have been coming for the past several years. We thought about trying to go somewhere else, a little more exotic perhaps, for the Y2K party and/or disaster. But there is no place more special to us, both because my four godchildren and their family are here, and because this is where we met, four years ago.

We also considered that if there are any Y2K-related problems they are likely to go unnoticed here. If the phones go down, that will only knock them back a year or so. If there is a power failure, well, that happens pretty often anyway, and is a good thing as far as we're concerned. The sun will shine, the rain will fall, the corn will grow. That's what matters here.

This year we took the bus down once again. We started from our home in Ashland, stopped over a few days at my mom's winter camp near Yuma, Arizona, then headed down through Mexico. We managed to make it all the way without stomach problems- or at least none that couldn't be attributed to having hot sauce for breakfast.

Normally, when traveling, I am in favor of staying on the ground as much as possible, especially when the destination is vastly different from where one started from. Staying on the ground allows one to make gradual adjustments, and better understand the context of the destination. Getting off a plane in an unfamiliar and strange place can be disorienting.

But we've been to Guatemala many times. While it remains strange in many respects, it is not unfamiliar. For us, going by bus no longer serves a purpose. Prices in Mexico have risen in recent years and going by bus isn't even that much cheaper than by plane. So, on the way down, after one too many nights trying to sleep sitting up on the bus, and far too many hours spent in all too familiar bus terminals, we promised ourselves that from now on, we're flying. Needless to say, we were glad to get to San Antonio and get settled into our little adobe room, lumpy mattress and all (or rather lumpy mattress and little else).

The changes here this year are fewer than last year, and less dramatic. There is a new four-man police force. I had mixed feelings at first when I learned that, but they seem to be doing a good job, and now I think they are a good thing. The other day I helped a couple of them arrest a drunk. Well, to be honest, I just chatted with him about what good friends we were while the police handcuffed him.

There are more phones in the village, even a few cell phones. My dream of having an internet connection here seems more and more possible (assuming things work after Y2K). My godchildren, their family, and our other friends are all doing well. It is interesting to see people I first met as children several years ago now getting married and starting to have children of their own. Kids grow up fast here.

We arrived a few days before Christmas in time to participate, however unwillingly, in the holiday festivities. Here, the holiday season is characterized by noise. In the markets this time of year there are large tables selling a virtual pyrotechnic smorgasbord of fireworks. Some of the "firecrackers" are about the size of a frozen orange juice can, and make a truly impressive bang. (I'm not sure where the line is drawn between "firecracker" and "bomb"). These and many others, including entire packages of the smaller firecrackers are lit off at all hours of the night.

Of course the nightly battle of the evangelical bands continues unabated, with their Mexican-inspired music amplified as loud as electronically possible and broadcast from loudspeakers atop the churches. Occasionally they are joined by a woman singing in the Pentecostal church who has a screeching, monotone style that sends us scrambling for our earplugs. The overall effect is hard to describe, but it is a bit like listening to a cat being strangled, during a Mexican revival meeting, in a war zone.

Fortunately, during the day things are usually quieter. We are able to do what we really are here for- play with the kids, socialize with our other friends and explore the markets and other sights


Politics

No report from Guatemala would be complete without a few comments on the political situation. I'll try to be brief. This year was an election year. Last year I predicted that the popularity of President Alvaro Arzu and his PAN party would sweep his successor, Oscar Berger, into office. I was very wrong.

Arzu was largely responsible for arranging the peace accord three years ago which ended 30 years of armed conflict with rebels unhappy with the military government. More that 100,000 Mayas were killed during that time, many more escaping into southern Mexico. Following the signing of the peace accord, a lot of foreign aid flooded into the country, most of which Arzu used to build roads, schools and health centers. I thought, wrongly, that the Guatemalans would think those things were a good idea. Maybe they did, but evidently the price of basic food items such as rice, beans and corn was more important. The price of those things, as well as electricity, which Arzu had privatized, increased over the past few years. Berger's opponent, Alfonso Portillo, made the most of this, promising he would make sure the prices would drop. That wasn't the only issue, of course, but I won't try to explain the whole thing since I've already demonstrated I don't understand Guatemalan politics.

The general election was Nov. 4. Portillo got 49% of the votes, Berger got 30-something%. (The FDNG, a coalition party comprised partly of representatives of the former rebels finished far behind the two leading parties.) A run-off election was held last Sunday, the day after Christmas. With about 40% of voters going to the polls, Portillo won by a better than 2-to-1margin.

Unfortunately, Portillo is a thug. His party, the FRG, was founded by, and is still lead by, General Rios Montt. In the late 70s Rios Montt lead a failed coup attempt against the government, escaping to Miami afterwards. The General was a Catholic, but in Miami he became an evangelical Christian. In the early 80s Rios Montt's followers gained control of the government and he returned to preside over one of the bloodiest eras in Guatemala's history. Soldiers killed thousands of Mayas, death squads operated throughout the country with impunity, murdering those who dared dissent. I first came to Guatemala in '86, oblivious to the situation. But I recall how fearful anyone was to talk about it and answer my questions. My Spanish teacher said "You never know who is listening."

Now Rios Montt is president of the Congress, and Portillo has been elected president. We asked a Guatemalan friend here what he thought of the election. He just shook his head and said, rather graphically, "It's like the Jews voting for a Nazi."

There is an often used term here- "Fíjese!"- which means, roughly, "go figure!" It is used to express wonderment at something that doesn't seem to make any sense. I think that applies to this election. ("Fíjase!" can also mean something like "I don't know whose responsibility this problem is, but it's not mine so don't expect me to do anything about it". It is a very useful word.)

I am concerned about what will happen now in Guatemala, but I hope for the best. Much good has been accomplished in the last few years, and I hope it cannot be easily undone. Faye will be returning home in a few days to take classes at Southern Oregon University. I will remain here until the beginning of February. I'll write more in a couple of weeks- assuming the machines are working by then.


Jan. 22, 2000
San Antonio Palopó, Guatemala
Angelina, Yessica & Winston

It is three weeks into the new year. The Y2K disaster was either averted or over-hyped, depending on who you listen to. Computers worked about as well as they usually do, the stock market didn't crash, and the end of the world was evidently postponed yet again, perhaps until 2012 when, according to the Mayan calendar, some believe, time will run out. Of course, for the Mayas who developed that calendar time ran out a long time ago.

Faye and I spent New Years in San Antonio, Guatemala, among some of the descendants of those prescient Mayas. As we suspected the village was Y2K compliant. Dogs continued to bark, roosters continued to crow, and the bands played on.... and on and on. (The electricity did go out a couple of times before midnight New Year's Eve, but not after.)

On New Year's Eve both the Catholic church and the Pentecostal church were packed, almost entirely with women for some reason. The two churches are about 25 yards from each other, and both had bands which were playing at a volume which would win the admiration of any Heavy Metal group.

One new ingredient in the sonic stew was a marimba band from out of town which set up right across the street from the Pentecostal church, maybe 50 feet away. In addition to the marimba were two saxophones, a stand-up base and a drum set, all jacked into two towers of amplifiers.

The marimba is traditional to Guatemala, and has been played here since before the Spanish conquest 400 years ago. Played well it can be beautiful (there is a saying here that "the marimba is like a woman; if you strike her she shouts, if you caress her she sings.") There are a lot of good marimba bands in Guatemala, but unfortunately the band invited to San Antonio wasn't one of them. However what the players lacked in skill they made up for in endurance. They began playing New Year's Eve about 7 p.m. and played until 2 a.m. Then they began again New Year's morning and played until 2 p.m. They obviously belong to the wrong union.

On New Year's Eve, in a spirit of tolerance that I hoped to carry with me into the new millennium, I wondered around a bit among the two churches and the marimba band, seeking an epiphany, some revelation which would help me understand the motives and/or rewards of this deafening phenomenon. And indeed I did discover something, though not as profound as I had hoped— if one was within twenty feet or so of any of the three bands, the other two were completely drowned out.

I can only speculate that prolonged exposure to this causes mystical hallucinations of some kind, along with, I'm sure, ear damage. (There are a number of medical professionals—doctors, dentists, optometrists—who come to Guatemala to donate their services to people here who certainly need them. I would not be surprised if in the coming years hearing-aid specialists are among that group. When you see solicitations for the donation of old hearing aids, remember, you read it here first.)

On New Year's Day the Catholic church began broadcasting recorded music at 6:45 a.m., no doubt to arouse the righteous and punish the wicked. What little tolerance I had envisioned the night before was quickly swept away within the first few hours of the new millennium.

As I have said before, most of the church music here seems to be styles popular along both sides of the U.S./Mexico border (known as Ranchero, Tejano and Bandera, in case you want to check them out at your local music store.) But sometimes we hear some familiar tunes from a little further north (with rewritten lyrics, of course) such as "Blowin' in the Wind", "Red River Valley" and, inexplicably, "Achy Breaky Heart." I won't comment on the significance of encountering these tunes down here. But I will say that whoever introduced that last one to Guatemala should have their passport confiscated!

The amount of space my preoccupation with the music scene here takes up in these reports is more in proportion with the annoyance I feel rather than the number of hours each week that this goes on. Mornings are tranquil. We are awoken about 5:30 a.m. as the engines for the corn grinders start up. The drone of that sound is shortly followed by the pat-pat-pat of women making tortillas from the freshly ground masa flour. Faye has not expressed any interest in getting up at that time of day to make me tortillas, so we usually succeed in going back to sleep until the sun comes up.

Most days are relatively quiet, considering that the population density in this small village makes it a bit like living in a 5000-person dormitory. There are always sounds of some kind. Someday I'll try to go into a bit more detail about the daily life of the people here. In spite of automobiles used for transportation, and electricity used for lights, television, radios and the aforementioned amplifiers, there are things which have probably changed little for centuries—some attitudes, for instance.


Don Pablo

One of the things I really enjoy here is talking to people, especially Don Pablo, the grandfather of my godchildren. He never ceases to amaze me with his inquisitive mind and his wealth of knowledge about things I am surprised he knows anything about. I remember in our first conversation four years ago, right after I had been asked to become godfather to Angelina and Yessica, we talked about the Gulf War. He then asked me to explain how television transmissions worked. (I learned later that he had a TV hidden under a pile of stuff.) Knowing little or nothing about a subject has never stopped me from expounding on it, so I did my best to tell him about how the signal is sent to a big thing up in the sky ("You mean a satellite?" he asked) then back down to the station from where it is broadcast to TV sets. He let me know that what I had just told him was pretty obvious. What he wanted to know was how the signals traveled through space. Electro-magnetic theory has never been my strong point , so I made some lame excuse and changed the subject. That is a pattern we have followed ever since.

In recent conversations he has asked me to explain such things as gold mining, how the magnetic strip on phone cards work and electronic ignition for cars. I often have the sneaking suspicion that he knows more than I do about these things and is just checking his knowledge against mine. One thing I have learned from him which I didn't know is which herb to use to ward off the effects of the Evil Eye (a curse put on you by someone). I asked him how that worked. He said he didn't know, it just did. If I answered his questions with that degree of honesty our conversations would be much shorter.

Unfortunately, over the past six months his eyesight has deteriorated rapidly and he can barely see. At this point we aren't sure what the problem is, perhaps cataracts. He is very distressed about losing his eyesight, both because he likes to read quite a bit in his quest for self-education, and because he is unable to help his family as he has in the past. There is no such thing as retirement here and everyone has a job to do.

As this is getting pretty long, I'll just briefly mention the political situation here. The new president took office on the 14th. So far it has been a mixed bag, some things possibly good, some things possibly bad. While the previous administration promoted change and progress, in the new one there is much talk about justice and security. With the history of this country that doesn't sound good to me. Those words mean different things to different people. It worries me what they might mean to the former dictator Rios Montt who is now the president of the Congress. Rios Montt, who headed a military junta in '82/'83, is accused in a Spanish court of being responsible for killing 17,000 people in the name of security during the civil war here. He claimed to be fighting guerilla forces, which never numbered more than a few thousand. So, we'll just see how things go.

On that cheery note I'll end this report. Faye is already back home, attending classes at Southern Oregon University. I expect to be back home the first part of February...........Ciao for now, Jim