I’m back baby! As I mentioned last time, I have the fortunate burden of having to leave Guatemala every 90 days in order to renew my tourist visa. For our first mandatory trip out of the country, my fellow volunteer Fredi and I decided to go to Mexico, to visit Fredi’s family in the state of Puebla. The trip was absolutely lovely, and I was taken aback by both the natural beauty of the country, as well as the immense charm and hospitality of the people in whose company I remained for a week. So, sit back and let me regale you with the tales from this brief sojourn to the north!
Our journey officially began on Sunday, October 27th with the long drive from Esquipulas to Guatemala City. Fredi and I stayed in a house owned by the monastic community, and got up early on the 28th for our flight to Mexico city. The flight came and went with no issues, and we landed around 10:00AM. At the terminal, we met up with two of Fredi’s uncles and his cousin José, who is about the same age as us. While I was initially thinking we were going to head straight from the airport to the town of Jolalpan, where the family lives, I had forgotten that the uncles had offered to take Fredi and I to see the ancient Mesoamerican city of Teotihuacan. We drove about an hour north of the city to spend the morning among the ruins of the Teotihuacan.
For those who might not know, Teotihuacan is an ancient city that reached its heights of population and power between 1 and 500 AD. Many people think the city was built by the Aztecs, but it actually predates their society by well over 5 centuries, if not more. In fact, the Aztecs themselves believed that their gods created the entire universe at the site of Teotihuacan, this belief being reflected by the very name of the city, which is often translated as “birthplace of the gods”. The site is dominated by the absolutely colossal pyramid of the sun, the third largest ancient pyramid in the world.
We saw the pyramid from miles away as we were approaching, and it only became more and more impressive as we approached and entered the site. The only nearby thing taller than it is the Cerrito Gordo, the volcano that provided all the basalt rocks that make up the bricks of the pyramid. Standing next to it is truly mind-boggling. Your brain wants to believe it is a natural hill, but you have to keep reminding yourself that this is a structure that was made by human hands, completed in the year 200 AD, while the Emperor Caracalla was busy building bath houses in Rome, and Christianity was still illegal.
Anyway, after spending a fair bit of time gawking at this incredible structure, we went into the museum, and saw impressive works of obsidian, stone, and jade; all of which made by a society that had a trade network that spanned across Mesoamerica. From here we walked north to the smaller, but similarly impressive pyramid of the moon, and along the way I purchased a handmade flute in the shape of a snail shell. If you know me, a good trip isn’t complete unless I leave with a unique instrument, so this was a great find for me.
(click on any of these images to enlarge them)
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay long enough to visit the entirety of the site, as we had to drive several hours to Jolalpan, which lies in the south-western corner of the state of Puebla. While I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful and impressive place, the drive south through the Mexican countryside proved to be just as, if not more beautiful. As we drove the sun gradually sank into the sky, spreading its rays over rolling hills and illuminating the stunning colors of bell towers in the passing towns. This light bathed countless fields of marigolds, the traditional flower of día de los Muertos blooming in abundance as that day came nearer. As we continued south, we eventually came into the shadow of Iztaccihuatl (pronounced ees-tac-see-wuat), a great stratovolcano and Mexico’s third highest peak. To the south of this volcano rose Popocatepetl, Mexico’s second highest peak and one of its most active volcanoes. Dense clouds shrouded its snowy slopes, but a great plume of ash could be seen rising from its hidden cone. As the sun began to dip lower and lower, these peaks were bathed in a rose-gold light, and I felt as though I was driving through a Bierstadt painting.
Before long the sun had set, and our winding road finally came to a halt. Around 7:00 PM we arrived at Fredi’s grandma’s house in Jolalpan, where we would be staying for the rest of the week. The whole family surprised us with a blast of confetti as we walked in the gate, and they gave both of us a bouquet of flowers and a traditional gourd bottle called a “bule” as a welcome present. We had some delicious barbacoa chicken for dinner and got some much-needed rest after a very full day of travel.
Before I continue, I think I should describe a bit about Jolalpan and where we were staying. Jolalpan is a fairly small town, way out in the countryside. It has a population of about 12,000 (Esquipulas by comparison has about 56,000 people). It is primarily an agricultural town, with corn, palm, and Roselle, or Jamaica grown in and around the mountains that encircle the town. Fredi’s Grandma lives in a small house on the edge of town along with Fredi’s cousin Rosa. The house itself is mainly just bedrooms and storage, and most of the cooking is done outside since it is all done in wood-burning stoves and ovens. In pens next to the house there were 2 cows and several chickens and turkeys, which as you can probably imagine, are very effective alarm clocks (at least if you like to wake up at 4:00 in the morning before it’s even light out). It was simple, but overall, pretty comfortable.
Our first day in Jolalpan was the 29th, and we spent most of it on an excursion with Fredi’s uncle Pablo. We got to see the beautiful church at the center of Jolalpan and were fortunate enough to get to climb the bell tower to get a nice view of the town. He also took us to a nearby village called Xochitepec, where there were a few small but very beautiful churches. One of which is the site of a supposed apparition of the virgin Mary, which took place inside the hollow of a massive tree called an ahuehuete, also known in English as a Montezuma Cypress. There was also a natural spring nearby, so it gave the whole site this very unique, oasis-y feeling among the semi-arid shrubland of the surrounding hills. Overall, it was very cool to see a bunch of unique Mexican churches. The churches in Mexico are quite different to the ones in Guatemala, with a variety of brightly painted colors, and richly decorated interiors, contrasted to the more simply colored and consistently decorated ones I’ve seen in Guatemala.
The second day was a lot busier, as the family decided to throw a party for Fredi, partially for his birthday which had happened just a few weeks prior, but also to celebrate his first visit to his ancestral home. I think I realized that I was truly out in the country when I saw the family bring a pig to the house the night before and told us that they were going to kill it and cook it up for the party. I know I probably have some squeamish readers, so worry not when I say that I saw none of that process, as it all happened before I awoke on the day of the party. Most of the meat went into a mole verde, which for those who don’t know is essentially a stew/sauce made with tomatillos, onions, jalapeños, and a variety of spices. They also took the belly and skin and made chicharrónes (pork rinds), which while I’ve never been a huge fan of these, apparently having them fresh makes all the difference in the world. I also helped some of the uncles and cousins of the family make taquitos, rolling up in a tortilla a mix of finely chopped meat, onions, and peppers, and frying them till they turn golden brown. This was by far my favorite food that we made from the pig, and I would’ve eaten 50 of them if it wouldn’t have taken it away from the rest of the family.
Anyway, in the late afternoon and evening, family members started showing up and showering Fredi with gifts. This was amazing to see, especially considering Fredi had never met any of these people in person before, and a lot of them he didn’t know at all until the day of the party. One of Fredi’s Aunts was even nice enough to give me a little box of Mexican candy, which I have been snacking on all week since we got back. Anyway, the party was a good time. A DJ showed up, we danced, I got to try Victoria beer (very tasty), and we ate so much food I thought I was going to explode. It was really amazing to see the way the whole family showed up to help set everything up in order to celebrate Fredi.
The next day was Halloween, and while a couple of people had little porcelain jack-o-lanterns on their porches, Halloween isn’t really celebrated in Mexico. This is because the holiday coincides with All Saints Day, and of course the famous Day of the Dead, or Día de Los Muertos. In Jolalpan, the festivities of Día de Los Muertos are spread out across 3 days, starting on the 31st of October. We started the day by going into town to buy cempasuchil, or marigolds, as well as candles to decorate the grave sites of some of Fredi’s Family. We put a little pot of the bright orange flowers and lit a candle in front of the grave of one of his aunts who died when she was a child, as well as his grandfather and his great-grandmother. The rest of this day was spent on an excursion high up into the mountains surrounding the town. Up here is a small farming village, which is actually where Fredi’s mom was raised. We got to see the adobe house they lived in and the one room schoolhouse where she went to school until 3rd grade, and listened to a lot of Fredi’s grandma’s old stories about what life was like up there. Most of the houses are very simple, some of which are basically just palm frond roofs supported by wood beams. The place was completely empty of people, as according to Fredi’s uncle, people only come up from Jolalpan when it is a harvest or planting time, and we happened to be here in between this.
November 1st was when the Dia de Los Muertos celebrations really began to crank up. The traditional belief is that the spirits of the dead cross over to the world of the living at noon, so after a relaxed morning Fredi, his uncle Pablo and I went to the municipal cemetery, not far from the house. Let me tell you, this place was PACKED. Families were all gathered around the tombs of their loved ones. Some burned incense and sang hymns, some had bands with them that played lively music, and some just sat around chatting or drinking beer. There was not a single gravesite I saw that did not have a bouquet of cempasúchil beside it, so the whole cemetery was practically bathed in orange petals. Overall, the attitude was a very lively one, and people seemed to be happy to be there. When noon struck, a bunch of people shot off fireworks into the air, and several marching bands began to play music all at once, creating a cacophony of welcome for the faithful departed. At this point, people began to line up for the processions.
Another one of the Dia de los Muertos traditions I learned about was that it is custom to do a sort of procession for anyone who has died within the last year. Families start at the cemetery, and carry a picture of the loved one, a cross, and a brazier of burning incense through the street back to the home of the family, in front of the procession, the youngest members of the family spread petals of cempasúchil on the ground, as a sort of breadcrumb trail for the spirit to follow back to the house. At the rear there was usually a marching band playing upbeat music. At the house awaits one of the famous ofrendas, a home altar with pictures and belongings of the loved one, as well as things like their favorite foods or books. Once they arrive, everyone has a big feast of tamales.
We watched the processions leave from the cemetery, enjoying the music and the smell of incense. Eventually, we joined a procession for one of Fredi’s more distant non-blood relatives. It was fun to march along with everyone and very cool to see how everything is done, but it was definitely a long and slow march under a very hot sun. We didn’t end up staying for the meal as we didn’t want to impose, not being true members of the family, but that of course didn’t mean we weren’t invited to stay several times before we eventually left.
That evening we got to see another Dia de los Muertos tradition, and this one was by far my favorite of the bunch. All the people who had done a procession in the afternoon opened their homes and ofrendas to the entire community, and people were invited to the houses to pay their respects to the dead. It was custom for each visitor to bring a candle for the ofrenda, as well as a loaf pan de Muertos, a special bread that usually was in the shape of a plump female doll, or in a roll with little bony looking fingers of bread on top. After visiting the ofrenda for a bit, the family then provided their guests with food and drink, most often in the form of pozole and some kind of mixed tequila drink called a cubita. Essentially, it was like a more transactional form of trick or treating, with the focus of paying respects to the members of the community who passed away last year. Fredi and I had a great time, and not just because of the cubitas! It was amazing to see the elaborately decorated ofrendas with a mountain of bread atop them, and to take some time to chat with the people of Jolalpan. All of them were extremely courteous and kind, and most were very curious to hear from Fredi and I what both Guatemala and the United States are like.
The next day, we once again visited the cemetery, and held a sort of vigil with the family around the tombs of Fredi’s grandpa and his great grandmother. I say vigil, but really it was more of a picnic, with us hanging around drinking coke and just chatting. I also got to try a frozen treat that the family called a pabellon. It was essentially an inverted come of shave ice covered in flavored syrup. Very delicious. That evening we got invited over to the family from Fredi’s father’s side, and had a good time hanging out with them and hearing a bit more about what life is like in Jolalpan.
In the morning of our last full day in Mexico, we were taken by another of Fredi’s Uncles to the nearby town of Axochiapan. Here there was a massive street market with just about everything you could possibly imagine. Clothes, produce, bootleg movies, a 10 pound back of crickets seasoned with tajin? They had it here! Fredi was brought here specifically because he wanted to buy a cowboy hat similar to what a lot of his male family members were wearing, which we encountered with relative ease. I myself got my hands on a Puebla style jar and two little shot glasses made of clay. We also got ice cream at this market, and this turned out to be a huge mistake for me. Can you guess what happened? If you said, “food poisoning’”, you’d be correct!
Ill spare you all the details of the rest of the day because it wasn’t very pretty, but yeah unfortunately my last evening in Jolalpan wasn’t exactly a joyous one. Fortunately the family took me to a doctor in town and I was able to get some medication that made sure my trip back to Guatemala wasn’t one of pure agony, even though it came at the cost of getting a shot in my rear end. Worth it, I guess.
The trip back to Guatemala started last Monday before dawn was even an idea- at 1:30AM to be precise. Fortunately, everything went without a hitch and by the time we were on the plane I was feeling back to my normal self (though this is possibly due to me having coffee right before boarding after spending a week without it). The drive back to Esquipulas was long as always, though it was very beautiful and relatively free of traffic compared to our first drive from the capital city. I won’t lie, once we were back in the monastery it felt like we had been gone for a month, but after all was settled, I fell back into my routine with relative ease.
So there it is, the trip fully recapped! This is already far and away my longest post thus far, so I’ll probably save most of my reflections for now, and perhaps I’ll incorporate them into a later post. To keep it brief, I’ll say that I’m very grateful I went on this trip, and I’m equally grateful for the immense kindness and hospitality that was put on display by the people of Jolalpan. It was an honor to get to participate in their traditions and learn a bit from their worldview. This trip has left me feeling immensely grateful for the opportunities and privileges I’ve had in my life, the ability to travel and see wonderful places like this being chief among such privileges. I continue to hope that I might use these privileges and the experiences they have afforded me to continue to better myself, and the world around me.
Speaking of bettering the world around me, I’m also excited to announce that I have found some exciting new work here in Guatemala! Fredi and I started volunteering at a migrant shelter not far from the monastery, which provides one night of food, shelter, medical and psychological assistance to migrants. I’m sure I’ll make a post about it in the near future, but I might not be able to share a huge amount of specific details due to the confidentiality policy of the shelter. Anyway, I’ve written enough for one day, so I’ll leave you all to your lives. Peace!
Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.
-Mark Twain