Dairy hurts

Life in Xela, while about to draw to a close, is going very well. I've recently learned that a chain of bakeries here, Xelapan, make eclairs and we have one 30 seconds from our school. So...yeah, as said, life here is good. I've also recently taken to a regular regimen of Metamucil to make up for the fruits and properly cooked veggies we've been lacking, so...again, life has resumed its "regular" goodness. Delightful, I know. Lastly, I know none of you will believe me, but last Saturday, we passed by a hamburger cart that, no joke, was called, "Guateburger." That's Guat's up! That's Guat's happening! That's Guat it is right now! OK, enough. But I can't believe I've forgotten to write about that until now. It was like Xela was nodding its head in acknowledgment of my visit that fine morning when we passed it by.

Anywho, as far as activities, etc. go, today we went to the town of San Andrés Xecul to see this wonderfully multi-color church. The sides of the building are painted white, as the front of the church used to be. Now, however, the facade is bright yellow and adorned with otherwise beautifully painted saints (presumably?), plants and more. Up at the top, on either side of the cross, are two jaguars. Jaguars, according to Mayan beliefs, are said to be guardians of the day, fighting the night through the darkness to allow the safe return of day (if I understood the Spanish explanation correctly). Their spots are seen as battle scars, and the cats are perceived as an otherwise sacred animal. It is always so interesting to me to look at how the presence of Christianity is altered or adapted to a land's native or indigenous culture and religious or spiritual beliefs.

As we went into the dark church, a woman was sitting off to the side with a small loom set up, and was weaving with great swiftness and skill, barely looking up at the flock of tourists whisking their way into the church. Further inside, as we passed empty pews bordered by walls with small, long trays of burning votive candles and paper, we came upon a small service in progress. On the main alter, beneath the crucifix and encased effigy of Jesus...framed...by...neon lights, women and children in indigenous, woven clothing knelt, praying and singing with each other.

After leaving and snapping a few more pictures, we hiked unsurprisingly -- yet consistently astonishing -- steep streets to get to a second church, a smaller chapel. Next to this structure, respectively painted, were crosses in front of or over and around which flowers had been draped. Here, offerings such as bouquets, bottles of alcohol and animals (pigs, chickens, etc.) were left as offerings in prayers for the deceased or for other reasons. Where I've been in West Africa (in Benin), when animals were killed as an offering for a request or wish, those on the site of the sacrifice may sometimes prepare the meat and share it as a meal with those nearby. This is not the case in San Andreas, however, where I was told that the animals were simply killed and put into the lit fire before the crosses. When we were there, women were gathered around and stirring the fire, but I didn't want to get too close to check on the sacrifice progress so as not to disturb or offend them.

Lastly, we went to a "house" that was the "dwelling" of San Simón, a saint that (primarily)indigenous people in the town pray to. Similar offerings, also including money, fireworks, food, cigarettes, etc. adorned the representation of the saint, and the fire burning just outside the house. Strung from the rafters were candles of different colors, each with a different prayer/wish intent or meaning. I'll try to ask more about the specific colors and write about them later because right now I am pretty uninformed on the issue.

That's about all that's been going on here, aside from a hilarious moment for me (because I'm cold-hearted?) in a local Xelapan bakery. I was in there with Tony, and as he, as a lactose intolerant individual...at that point possibly still suffering from amoebas, was staring at creme and custard-filled delights, the song "Love Hurts" came on, in English. It was great. The only thing that would have made the moment better would have been a rotating pastry case and a shot of Tony weeping into his own reflection on the glass.

I'll leave you with that and the promise that I will upload more photos before we leave on Sunday for Antigua and a few days in the Honduran town of Copan for some Mayan ruins. Tonight, we're going out for pizza to bid farewell to a few friends. I'd say, "aren't you jealous?" but ah...the "Land of Enchantment" has plenty of pizza available.

Hasta la pasta, as Tony and I think the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles like to say.