Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Little Bombs and Big Processions, It's Christmas Time In Guate

I sat alone on a bench in Central Park, Antigua, this evening, spacing out, looking at the gorgeous lighting of the centuries old buildings and the cathedral. I was aware of the banter, in Spanish, of the cabbies standing a few feet behind me as people were walking this way and that at a leisurely pace. I was smiling. And then BAM an explosion about 20 feet from me behind some inches-high plants in the park. I jolted in my seat and felt the shock waves hit my pant legs like a strong gust of wind. Smoke was everywhere. Such is the Christmas season in Guate. And I gotta say, I don't like the fireworks part of it. Two evenings ago I got caught in a procession 20 yards from my house when about 100 people holding candles and crosses and singing were headed straight at me. A priest in fancy regalia carried some religious, bejeweled container as men held a thick and tasseled canopy above him. Apparently clearing the way for this group of worshipers, a few men lit and threw bricks of firecrackers a few yards in front of the procession and a few feet from where I was standing. Bam bam bam bam, little bits of smoke and fire everywhere. I ducked instinctively and felt my heart race as I had not been aware of their plans! I quickly pressed myself into a doorway with my hands crossed in front of me, trying to look respectful as I smiled slightly at the somber-faced folks walking and singing their way past me. Everyone was in dresses and suites and many of the boys wore white priestly frocks with red scarves on their shoulders. I could see Jose and Lucky up ahead, standing in their doorway, singing and holding candles. Finally the crowd thinned and as it slowly passed and I made my way to Lucky. The rest of the night sounded like a war zone. Across town the devil was being burned and throughout the city streets processions trapped the clueless in doorways. It is the beginning of the season of the birth of their Lord Jesus. And it is not about buying shit. I ain't Catholic and I have many big-ass problems with the church, but I have to admit, being in a place where the celebration of Christmas is NOT about shopping and buying shit...well, I really feel a relief in it. My friends down here, for the most part, are far from rich. They're artists and writers and managers and barkeeps. They don't focus on buying shit. They don't have that orientation or the money. Down here it is mostly, by a big margin, about spending time with family, eating good food, (and in the case of most of my friends, drinking good booze), playing music, singing and dancing, and just being together. Bring a bottle of wine to dinner, if you want, and more importantly, an open and loving heart and be ready to laugh. And if you are religious, it's about processions, mass, and all of the above plus burning the devil (which I think is cool). That's Christmas down here. And I appreciate it all, except the small and not so small celebratory bombs. Those I could do without. NOTE: All this said, I do miss my family and friends and my Cosmic...just not the compulsive shopping and incessant advertisements.

1 comment:

Cindy said...

thanks Mer for letting me live it vicariously...