Revue Magazine

Vertical Garden

2010-07-22T01:22:57-07:00

What do you do when your neighbor’s new wall blocks your once-unobstructed view?

text and photos by Dr. Al Thompson

What might one do with a garden wall constructed of block painted white, other than wonder what one might do with such a wall so common in Antigua? Frequently, your 10-foot wall has been challenged by new construction behind it, which may exceed yours by another eight or 10 feet. Yes. What might one do other than become distraught about what will become an eyesore?

Our 10-foot garden wall to the east of the property looked decent enough with a few hanging baskets and a bougainvillea or two doing their thing. That was until construction broke our sense of quiet and an expansive view to the east.

Remembering that two heads are better than one, and three better than two, Carolyn, our handyman Pablo and I addressed the problem, which grew with every course of block cemented into place for the neighbor’s wall.

Our meeting of minds suggested we create a “vertical garden.” (That was before we spotted such a concept in magazine advertisements focusing on New York). Our goal was to extend our horizontal garden vertically on the east wall. How might one “attach” plants to a vertical wall? Our solution was to make a series of “H’s” out of 1/4-inch rebar with rebar joining the the top of the “H.” Our “H’s” are four feet wide and five-six feet tall. Holes were drilled into the top cap of our original wall and the legs of the “H’s” slipped into the drilled holes.

With the neighbor’s permission, a 30-foot length of 1½-inch angle iron was attached, using metal toggles, one foot below the top of the neighbor’s wall. Thus, we had a secure frame-work onto which we could support/hang myriad planter baskets, typical Guatemalan pots containing bromeliads, branches, and other materials to support and sustain an unusual variety of flora.

Watering? A PVC pipe now runs from the lower level to the veranda at the second floor. The pressure is sufficient to provide the vertical garden with a fine, 10-minute drink each day. Pablo weeds and fertilizes once a month, secure in knowing the rebar is guaranteed safe. He made it.

And so, because of the vertical concept, our garden is now 50 percent larger while butterflies, hummers and we enjoy what might well have been a sight for sore eyes!

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Psychology and Equestrian Sports

2010-07-21T22:59:58-07:00

written by Asa Bjorklund and Judith Gibbons photos by Asa Bjorklund

Have you ever “choked” in the face of an important competition? Many athletes have panicked and become paralyzed in the arena, even to the point of giving up sports they really liked.

In June, Sandy Venneman, psychology professor and equestrian, visited Club Ecuestre La Ronda in Finca Azotea in Jocotenango, where she explained learning theory and sports psychology, providing principles that can be applied not only to equestrians and horses, but to other athletes and animals, and possibly even to the education of children.

With respect to the “choke” effect, Dr. Venneman suggested that we put the competition into perspective. It is not a life-or-death situation, paling in comparison to endemic poverty, volcanic eruptions and mudslides. Another strategy to avoid “choking” is to practice under competition-like conditions, even to the extent of wearing your show clothes for practice.

In using learning theory to train your horse to step forward quickly, you squeeze your legs tight against him, and he moves forward. You should then (a) keep up the pressure, (b) press harder to make him go faster, or (c) release the pressure?

According to learning theory, you need to (c) release the pressure, eliminating the unpleasant leg pressure to reward the horse for responding. This is called negative reinforcement. Parents use the same principle when they release their teenage children from being grounded when they improve their grades in school.

According to Sandy, the best way to use learning theory is to provide positive reinforcement to increase the likelihood of a desired behavior. Horses may respond to pats, carrots or “good boy.” She says that, “for most humans, including riding students, significant others and children, acts of service, praise, gifts, food, quality time and touch are effective rewards.”

Velvet Beard reflected on what she had learned from the clinic: “Getting a different perspective and seeing how Sandy got my horse to relax by getting me to relax. It was challenging because it is very hard to change your habits. For example, when I relaxed my body I felt like a rag doll in the saddle, but the effect it had on my horse was amazing,” she said.

While giving the equestrian clinic at Finca Azotea, Sandy enjoyed the natural beauty of the setting, commenting, “what a spectacular place to ride, with volcanoes in the background.”

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Emerald

2010-07-12T04:55:38-07:00

Quetzal (photo: Thor Janson)

Yes, emeralds are found in our jewelry stores, but only imported gems. Emerald, however, is a rich sight in the Highlands of Guatemala, especially now with the rainy season polishing the leaves and enriching the grasses. And yes, we’ve our own emerald stones too, the deep imperial of Guatemala’s very special jadeite jewelry, but it’s the deep green tones of the hillsides and gardens that we’re really admiring this month.

As the Spanish had learned from the Moors, and brought to their colonies, most homes around La Antigua tuck their patios and gardens inside where families can use and enjoy them, instead of planting big lawns out front for neighbors to see. It’s considered fine to peek through open gates while walking around town, glimpsing the marvelous courtyards inside. Even if the great portons are closed along walled sidewalks, emerald leaves spill over the white facades, and there’s much more emerald in the coffee plantations and pine forests that surround us.

More emerald takes a bit more observation, and luck. The Antiguan city flags are emerald, at least when new before the brilliant sun fades them. On our patron saint celebrations this month, the municipal government usually breaks out a few new emerald flags, so enjoy them when you can.

Bellies of hummingbirds glisten with green flashes in the sun as they migrate north now and south in a few months. Down on the Pacific coast, emerald means a good field of sugar cane; up in Alta Verapaz, emerald might be seen if you’re lucky enough to find a quetzal bird fluttering among the emerald pines. Some sea turtles are deep emerald if you find them waddling along the beach or paddling alongside you in the water, and emerald tropical fish can be spotted in the warm waters of lowland lakes.

It’s a gem of color on our Guatemalan palette.

Up the Carretera a El Salvador in a Gullwing

2010-07-10T09:00:38-07:00

written by Eduardo Linares Batres

More than a quarter of a century ago, a pal of mine lucked into acquiring a Mercedes-Benz classic, a used-but-babied 300SL “Gullwing.” To say that this is one of the all-time, absolute greatest cars ever made is, in my opinion, an understatement.

When it was introduced around 1952-3, it was as an all-out race car driven by the likes of Argentine Juan Manuel Fangio “El Chueco,” a five-time world champion, and racing great Stirling Moss. This car beat the daylights out of everything from a Ferrari and Maserati to an Aston Martin and Alfa Romeo—the Lotus, Cooper and Porsche weren’t even players in those days.

A couple of years later Mercedes put out a half-tamed version; the Gullwing nickname came from the way the doors opened, up toward the roof. The bodywork looked so beautifully modern that, even very few cars, if any, can better esthetically express fast and furious power.

A few days after my friend purchased the Gullwing, he took me for a ride up the Carretera a El Salvador, which at that time was a two-lane road. It was around five in the afternoon in the rainy season, but not raining, and the air was crystal clear as can be, and as golden as the sun, falling toward the hills to the west of the Valle de la Asunción, could make it. “Technicolor” doesn’t even begin to describe the beauty of the nuances of such an afternoon.

We passed every car in sight going up the hills—not that in those years there were a lot of cars; on a crowded afternoon, from valley’s bottom to top of the hills, you’d pass perhaps a dozen cars at most. Additionally, around that epoch was the very first time when one could actually choose the music one wanted to hear in a car, instead of having to hear what was coming through the radio.

There were two music-reproduction formats: 8-track cartridges (older) and cassettes (newer); in the couple of days since he’d gotten the car, my pal had put in a cassette tape-deck and, as we raced up the Carretera a El Salvador hills, we were listening to the Beatles’ Back in the U.S.S.R., full blast. Aside from the idiotic lyrics, I still think that its beat and rhythm is the best rock music to pound the road in a very fast car. Another piece, Runnin’ Down a Dream, by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, runs a close second.

A bit after El Mirador—the lookout to the valley—a car appeared right behind us on a curve. It was a race-prepared BMW 2002 Alpina—2002 was the model, not the year. The BMW was going to the racetrack up on the highland for a late tryout, where there was to be a formal race the next day, a Sunday.

Instantly, the race was on, the music became much more syncopated, with the banshee wail of the engines perfectly complementing the rock music, and the colors of the afternoon becoming way more intense.

The Alpina was about 15 years newer than the Gullwing, but that Merc was THE Merc of all time. My friend was a good driver, but much more prudent than the racecar driver in the Beemer. The other guy passed a truck on the wrong side, squeaking through an impossibly narrow slot, and gained the advantage on us. But he couldn’t get away; we stayed on his bumper, at very high speeds, all the way to the entry to Los Volcanes raceway. We went on, while the Beemer went in. The whole time the Beatles were pounding away and Back in the U.S.S.R. kept coming up.

Adrenaline rush? Hedonism? Youth? Magic on an afternoon? I think all four. I’m grateful we survived the experience. And so I’ll close by recalling a quote that seems apropos, “you only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.”

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Antigua Guatemala Patron Saint Celebrations

2010-07-09T08:00:04-07:00

9 Fri., 7pm — BEAUTY CONTEST: Elección y Coronación de Señorita Antigua 2010-2011. Q50. Salón César Brañas 5a calle poniente # 44-A.
10 Sat., 2-5pm — DANCE: Folk dances featuring municipal dance groups. Salón César Brañas.
10 Sat., 8-4pm —ART: Outdoors Painting Festival. Central Park.
11 Sun., 7pm — MUSIC: Concert by Colectivo Dharana, Central Park.
16 Fri., 7pm — PARTY: In honor of Señorita Antigua 2010-2011. Q50. Salón César Brañas, 5a calle poniente # 44-A.
18 Sun., 8:30am — SPORTS: XXIX Medio Maratón Las Rosas, start and finish at Central Park. Registration: 5a calle poniente #30 (Surtiaceites Méndez), Q50.
18 Sun,. 8:30am — ART: Exposition and sale of handicrafts made at the Municipalidad mini-factories, as well as from the Mercado de Artesanías and the Compañía de Jesús. Central Park.
18 Sun., 12pm — GOURMET FESTIVAL: Festival Gastronómico, organized by Municipalidad de La Antigua, CAT, INGUAT and INTECAP. Salón César Brañas.
19 Mon., through Sat., 24 — ART: Esposition of paintings by artists Roberto Mux, Patricia Pol and Juan Ramón García Gómez. Palacio del Ayuntamiento (City Hall), Central Park.
25 Sun., 4pm — PROCESSION: with Santiago Apóstol around Antigua streets.
25 Sun., 6pm — MUSIC: Concert by several marimba groups, fireworks. Central Park.
25 Sun., — CELEBRATION: Día de Santiago (St. James Day) honoring the patron saint of La Antigua Guatemala. There will be processions and cultural festivals throughout the month.

Following is a listing of the festivities. More info at www.MuniDeAntigua.com

Santiago Monument by Leonel Mijangos/EnAntigua.com

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Heart of the Forest

2010-07-03T10:00:20-07:00

Showcases Mushrooms and Temescales

If snack wrappers blemishing the Guatemalan countryside dishearten you, take heart. There are places you can go where litter is not only unseen, its demise is being plotted.

They are snapshots of Guatemala’s glory before the modern container revolution. And, primero Dios, they are foretastes of the coming restoration of that glory.

The revolution in question sprung upon Guatemala only a generation ago. Sugary drinks, salt-laden crunchies and puffed pig fat began appearing on tienda shelves, attired in zany, mass-market packaging. They were still a poor value, but at least cheap enough to be occasionally within the reach of almost everyone.

Unlike a banana wrapper, however, these synthetic skins had a way of sticking around long after their usefulness. Indeed, those discarded 30 years ago are still with us, marring roadsides and bulking out clandestine dumps.

“One reason,” says Brittany Sickler, “is that people may take for granted that such packaging [unlike organic peels, etc.], decomposes.”

The North Dakotan Peace Corps volunteer says that she herself goes to the mercado and buys blocks of cheese and other foods wrapped in “organic” packaging like milpa leaves.

Sickler labors alongside Guatemalans at the Corazón del Bosque (Heart of the Forest) reserve in the village of Novillero, at kilometer 145 on the Panamerican Highway. This education and reforestation center, which covers about 40 hectares in Sololá Department, is one of eight such projects in the province. They operate through the cooperation of several governmental agencies with Vivamos Mejor, a Panajachel-based NGO.

Most of the reserved areas are in lakeshore communities such as Santa María Visitación, with the one in Novillero being an exception. The Novillero site, however, is an ideal showcase for the entire campaign, located as it is on the most-traveled highway in Guatemala. Garbage is nowhere to be seen—save for in receptacles, and even most of that is sorted onsite for recycling.

The presentation at the education building is targeted to schoolchildren, whom the educators consider the conscience and future of Guatemalan environmentalism. It begins with a video of a puppeteer mimicking a whimsical bird with his own painted hands. The bird, unfettered by limits of time and space, shows the wasteland that Guatemala might become if erosion and deforestation continue unabated. This is followed by an orientation to tree planting, technical yet geared to young minds.

The youngsters are then taken to an area where a special hole in the ground has been prepared for each one, and given a tree—pine, cypress, broadleaf oak or the endangered pinabete—and allowed to put their learning into practice.

Vivamos Mejor executive Estuardo Girón speaks of the eight reserves as a circuit that he expects nature aficionados will someday follow. He admits that not all of the other seven “bosques” are as developed as the Novillero one. But eventually, he foresees all of them boasting a similar array of attractions.

Aside from the education center, these include nature trails, rental cabins, a restaurant, picnic areas, a playground, herbalist and cooking classes, appropriate technology exhibits, Mayan altars that are in regular use, nurseries for trees and edible fungi, and a line of handicrafts featuring such unique items as vases woven from pine needles. The restaurant offers international, típico and vegetarian fare; there is even rabbit creole and a locally famous mushroom entrée prepared by the chef, “Grandma Rosa.”

One of the appropriate technology applications saw a setback because of the May rainstorms.

“We actually had a miniature hydroelectric project,” says Sickler. “It was not only a learning tool, but it provided about half of the electricity for Corazón del Bosque.”

Sadly, the rainstorm breached the little dam that was built across the small river crossing the bosque. But the other appropriate technologies on display are still up and running, such as small animal husbandry and wall construction using bottles filled with—what else?—snack wrappers. This latter form of reclamation has long been pioneered by German activist Susana Heisse, founder of the bosque reserve in San Marcos la Laguna.

The presentations are given to visitors on a drop-in basis, but perhaps the best way to experience the Corazón del Bosque is to overnight there at one of the cabins. These are at the end of trail, in the pine-scented heights. Each has an attached private temescal, or Mayan sauna, in the form of a dome made of stones. The cabins also have kitchenettes and outdoor dining facilities. Children are reported to love the three-level bunk beds.

For more information about visiting or volunteering at Corazón del Bosque, call 7723-4140, or go to www.corazondelbosque.com

Rossmery Jocón displays a candleholder and some of the pine-needle típico of Corazón del Bosque.

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How ‘bout a Coffee?

2010-07-03T06:07:54-07:00

Schumann, Wagner and Goethe met frequently to chat at Coffé Baum in Leipzig, Germany. Established in 1694 and Germany’s oldest coffee house, Coffé Baum still serves satisfied customers and includes a popular coffee museum on the third floor.

In his spare time from his duties as choirmaster at Thomas Church in Leipzig, J.S. Bach composed his Coffee Cantata in 1732, for performance by his special musical group at Café Zimmerman.

Mm! How sweet the coffee tastes,
Lovelier than a thousand kisses,
Mellower than muscatel wine.
Coffee, I must have coffee;
And if anyone wishes to give me a treat,
Ah, then, just give me some coffee!

Coffee houses were popular in Germany at that time, although coffee was not yet acceptable in homes. Beer was the true German drink of the day. Attempts to cultivate coffee in Europe had failed, and coffee came primarily from Brazil.

The first mention of coffee dates to Arab writings of the 9th century, when Maya civilization in Guatemala was on the decline. Legends of coffee’s discovery include that of goats, who became agitated after eating the beans from a bush. The stimulating beans became popular with monks at a local monastery, who had trouble staying awake for evening prayers.

By the end of the 16th century coffee had made its way through the Middle East to Europe, where Italian clergy thought it diabolic. But the pope, after trying it, decided it would be a shame to leave it to the infidels and, rather than condemning it, awarded it the church’s seal of approval. Meanwhile, Santiago de los Caballeros, now La Antigua Guatemala, was officially established in 1543, with monasteries going up all over, aimed to some degree at appeasing the powers that caused repeated natural disasters of earthquakes and volcanoes. The beloved Bishop Francisco Marroquín had died, the Jesuits had begun teaching basic reading, the Franciscans and Dominicans were building elaborate monasteries and the first nuns had arrived in town.

Santiago had two convents for women in the mid-17th century, while London women were banned from cafés, which eventually became men’s clubs. At one point the cafés were closed, considered to be places of sedition. That didn’t last long. They reopened in 11 days.

Although records show no export of coffee until 1853, since the Liberal Revolution of 1871 coffee has been Guatemala’s dominant export.

By the turn of the 18th century cafés had opened in Holland, Vienna, Boston, New York and Philadelphia. Santiago de los Caballeros had no cafés, but it did have seven monasteries, four convents, sixteen orders and three dozen churches.

The first coffee plants were brought to Guatemala from Jamaica and Cuba by the Jesuits in the mid-1700s. They were used as ornamental plants at their monastery in Santiago de los Caballeros. The Jesuits were expelled from Guatemala in 1767, but by then beans or cuttings had been taken to other parts of the country. Despite Guatemala’s fertility for coffee cultivation, coffee plants were primarily ornamental for nearly a century, growing to 12 or 14 feet, with little use other than medicinal, such as “to be taken as a curative to prevent fever,” recorded Regina Wagner in The History of Coffee in Guatemala.

Still, apparently news of the pleasures of drinking coffee had reached Guatemala. Records show that coffee crowned the inaugural banquet celebration in 1745 of the first archbishop of Santiago in his palace next to the cathedral. In the same year King Frederick the Great of Prussia built Sanssouci Palace in Potsdam, near Berlin, where Voltaire visited frequently. The lower level kitchen, now a museum, included a separate room with all the paraphernalia to equip the new custom of entertaining guests with coffee and cake: containers for beans, grinders, water pots, cups, cake molds, cake plates, cake servers. A new, round table was introduced for the living room, on which to serve the coffee and… That said, Frederick himself was a tea drinker, agreeing with those who thought coffee to be a women’s drink, not manly. He preferred wine or beer for his guests to loosen their tongues. Nonetheless, he later recognized the income potential of coffee and established coffee roasting companies.

In Guatemala, what little consumption of coffee there was in the early 1800s was satisfied with local production and imported beans, mills and pots. Dyes of indigo, then cochineal, produced by a beetle, remained the chief exports until mid-century, when a plague hit the beetle. It was bad timing for the beetle, with chemical dyes developing and coffee consumption increasing. By the time the beetle recovered, just a few years later, attention had turned to coffee. Demand was outpacing production. But records show no export of coffee until 1853.

Then began the boom. The Industrial Revolution had increased trade, drawing Guatemala and other Latin American countries into the world economy. The Germans, with their craze for coffee, came and stayed, buying up large properties for coffee cultivation and introducing their custom of drinking coffee in public places. Foreign immigration was welcomed, bringing new ideas, technology and capital.

While the country developed roads, rails and ports, banks and borrowing systems, there was a lot to learn about planting, pruning and processing the crop. And there was a lot to learn about competition, currencies and corporations. Everything was done “to support, stimulate and protect production of the ‘golden bean’,” wrote Wagner. “Ever since the Liberal Revolution of 1871, coffee has been Guatemala’s dominant export.”

The film Out of Africa opens with a Danish woman’s soft, haunting voice lamenting, “I once had a farm in Africa.” A coffee farm, of course. The complicated industry has risen, fallen and risen again, surviving pests and plagues, drought, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, two world wars and the Great Depression. Alas, the coffee habit has the world hooked.

Coffee has played a major role in Guatemala’s development as well as the world market, where next to oil it remains the most-traded commodity. Prints of globalization are everywhere. While coffee plants still trim the plaza of the old Jesuit monastery in La Antigua, the menu of a lively chocolate/coffee café on the square of Bratislava, Slovakia includes ‘Espresso Guatemala.’ And both Leipzig and traditional Vienna now have Starbucks, which buys coffee from Guatemala.

photos by Jack Houston

Juan Matalbatz a.k.a. Aj Pop’o Batz

2010-07-02T04:55:11-07:00

written by Bob Makransky

The only instance, in the entire Spanish conquest of the Americas, when the local chieftain was permitted to retain the power of government.

By the year 1543, after several unsuccessful military expeditions against the warlike Q’eqchi’ Indians, the Spanish conquerors were desperate. At the same time, it had become evident to the chieftain of chieftains of the Q’eqchi’s—Aj Pop’o Batz—the ruler of Tuzulutlan (the Land of War), that the Spanish invaders could not be forever held off by force of arms.

Although he commanded one of the fiercest tribes of the Maya race, Aj Pop’o Batz was as wise as he was courageous. He decided to try to find some political modus vivendi to the crisis presented by the Spanish conquest. As a first step, he gave one of his daughters in marriage to the chief of Zacapulas, who had already been converted to Christianity, and he thereby opened a channel of communication to the Dominican priests under the direction of Father Bartolomé de las Casas.

At about the same time, Father Bartolomé, a defender of the Indians against the excesses of the conquest, had obtained a commission from the crown of Spain to send missionary priests to Tuzulutlan to try to bring the Indians peaceably to the cross and crown. Las Casas sent three Dominican priests, Juan de Torres, Luis Cancer and Pedro de Angulo, to the land of war. And these three, bearing gifts and a band of musicians from Mexico, journeyed to Tuzulutlan, establishing missions and baptizing converts as they went.

By the time they arrived at the capital of Tuzulutlan (now San Juan Chamelco) in May 1543, they were already able to speak Q’eqchi’, and they were cordially welcomed by Aj Pop’o Batz and his lords. Aj Pop’o Batz quickly accepted conversion to Christianity, and had himself baptized with the name Juan Matalbatz on June 24 (the day of St. John the Baptist). He also directed all the members of his tribe to be baptized as well.

This conversion of their chieftain caused great consternation among the Q’eqchi’ people, who lamented the loss of their own god Tzul-tak’a (mountain valley).
As a consequence, there were in the beginning (and down through the years) attempted revolts by disaffected Q’eqchi’s against Juan Matalbatz, which he put down by whatever means necessary. He protected the Dominican missionaries with his life and forged a firm alliance with them.
 In February 1545 Juan Matalbatz and several of his lords journeyed to Spain under Dominican auspices and were received at the court of the Holy Roman Emperor, King Charles V. They presented the king with gifts, including 2,000 quetzal feathers and live, singing birds in cages. The king was delighted, and observing the Indians’ meager garments in the cold climate of Madrid he praised them as “men of steel.” He in turn presented them with religious images for their churches, silver crosses and censers, and the bronze bell which still hangs in the church of San Juan Chamelco.

Just as Juan Matalbatz found it necessary to keep his followers in line, so too did Bartolomé de Las Casas have to vigilantly guard against incursions by other Spanish colonists, who generally treated the Indians brutally. He maneuvered adroitly in both Guatemala and the Spanish court to make Tuzulutlan a Dominican fiefdom, answerable only to the crown.

These efforts were successful, and in September 1554 the Dominicans installed Juan Matalbatz as the first provincial governor. This is the only instance, in the entire Spanish conquest of the Americas, when the local chieftain was permitted to retain the power of government. As governor, Juan Matalbatz was even granted the right to arrest and punish Spanish transgressors of the law, which was considered a great affront by the conquistador mentality of the time.

The great alliance of the Spanish and Q’eqchi’s was celebrated in 1548 by the change in name of the province from Tuzulutlan (land of war) to Verapaz (true peace). Although there was always friction between the two races—even rebellions at times through the years—the Verapaz basically escaped the violent upheavals that characterized the conquest elsewhere.

Communal Indian ownership of the land was respected, and the Q’eqchi’s preserved their own language and culture to a remarkable degree. To this day it is assumed in the Verapaz that a Ladino will speak Q’eqchi’, not that an Indian will speak Spanish.

The Dominican rule endured until the mid-18th century, and thereafter the sheer physical isolation of the Verapaz from the rest of Guatemala shielded it from the revolutions of the 19th century. It was not until the 1880s, under President Justo Rufino Barrios, that the land of the Verapaz was finally expropriated from its Indian owners, thus ending the accord originally forged by Juan Matalbatz and Bartolomé de las Casas.

Nevertheless, the synchronism of these two powerful men of peace made what is now Alta Verapaz an island of relative tranquility in the turbulent sea of the conquest during the three centuries that followed them.

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Gerald Edward Smith (1949-2010)

2010-07-02T01:00:44-07:00

Jerry Smith, who passed last month at 61, always reminded me of people I knew in college who were manifestly brighter than I was, yet liked me anyway, and listened to my opinions, and brought out the best in others.
Centuries from now, children will still be pondering the faces of their ancestors, immortalized by Jerry and his longtime partner, Stephanie Riegel, who preceded him in 2008.

Over the years, Smith and Riegel distributed 8×10 printed enlargements of photos to their own subjects. They became locally famous for this, drawing crowds of jostling children wherever they went in the Atitlán Basin. Most of the parents were too poor to lose a day’s work and hire a studio photographer to do this for them, but Smith and Riegel never charged a choca. CD collections of their photos are still available in bookstores.

Smith and Riegel owned many Revue magazine photo credits. It was my privilege to collaborate with Jerry on myriad occasions. For me as a writer in search of an image, he was my stitch in time.

His do-gooding did not end with the free photos. Jerry, whose knowledge of the Maya was encyclopedic, was dedicated to them personally. The Canada Maya Scholarship called him the “anchor” of its project in Guatemala. He built the internet blogs, scouted scholarship candidates, helped with formal interviews, photographed the students, collected their documents, befriended, monitored and advised.

This passion even diverted him from his own gainful employment as a structural engineer. In the old country, Jerry, a native of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, refurbished mansions and customized yachts for the wealthy, but he also restored historical buildings, sometimes pro-bono.

He began visiting Guatemala in the ‘70s, and once told me that his permanent arrival in 2000 was a “millennial transition.” But whatever his motives, he was as sanguine as they come: warm, affable, never angry, nonplussed by his own generosity, and able to converse with dazzling erudition on any topic. He was also conspicuous for his grasp of software arcanities; I habitually introduced him as the world’s foremost computer expert over the age of 25.

In his senses of humor and of irony, he had few peers. His talk was always at the level of ideas; with little preamble, Jerry might accost you in the street with his latest take on an archeological find or a world event. We will miss him terribly.

Visit Jerry Smith’s website: www.atitlan.net

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A Code to Live By

2010-07-01T16:00:48-07:00

When you wake up in the morning and look in the mirror are you happy with the person who greets you? If you look yourself directly in the eye do you quickly look away? Before we put on our face and plunge into the day, what we see is who we are. Raw and exposed, we’re packaged up by the code that we live by.

Everyone needs a code to live by. The question is which code?

There’s no shortage of codes from which to choose. For example, the 10 moral imperatives handed down from the mountain, the Golden Rule, the Five Precepts of Buddhism, the American Indian Code of Ethics and the Mayan Lak’ech. We can draw upon these codes to direct our moral thinking and behaviors. Together with cultural moral codes individual and social behaviors are guided and regulated. Whether religious, spiritual or secular, morality means the same—essentially it’s about what’s right and wrong as considered by others.

A different perspective is that a moral core is innate in each individual. Therefore, moral values and choices are directed from within. The Dalai Lama calls it “human business and not religious business.” A difference between the two is that external codes have morality cops who sit on shoulders whipping out fear and guilt. A big fear is that we will not be seen as a “good” person doing the “right” thing.

At the center of an internal moral code sits an angel, a Buddha or a God conducting an orchestra of thoughts, actions and deeds. They’re the guardians of our conscience. It’s simple, says the Dalai Lama: “There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple…”

Regardless of whether the code you live by is internal or external, consider the advice of Henry David Thoreau: “Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of much life. So aim above morality. Be not simply good; be good for something.”

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CIRMA Expands Access

2010-07-01T06:44:56-07:00

Light begins to shine on buried treasure

Not far from La Antigua’s Central Park lies a newly refurbished Guatemalan version of Ali Baba’s cave. Walk two blocks east on 5a calle, past the original University of San Carlos and what’s now a museum. Then another half block to the ornate wooden doors and the dark red-brick exterior with a small sign that reads CIRMA.

CIRMA, or the Center for Regional Investigations of Mesoamerica, has a history dating back to 1978, when it began as an effort by two dedicated U.S. scholars to preserve Guatemala’s history. It has since become an international treasure and resource, visited by scholars and students from all over the world.

The Japanese Ambassador His Excellency Kazumi Suzuki was there in May, speaking of his country’s appreciation for the preservation of history and culture. Japan recently donated money for a new roof, structural work and a photo-processing wing, complete with new computers, cameras and scanners. Banzai, Japan!
Access to CIRMA, however, had been limited to graduate students or those academics who could provide a letter and a reasonable request to delve into the stacks–but that’s changing.

Part of the reason for the apparent mystery has been because of what’s in there. With over 7,500,000 documents and a million photographs, it’s taken a bit of time to organize things. When you have over 70,000 volumes of fragile books, dating from the late 1700s to the present, a limited staff and funds, this is not your typical used bookstore.

Grand plans for the future include a virtual museum of Guatemalan history, dating from 1808; the creation of the premier photographic museum of Latin America; the continuing international alliances with major universities; and the formation of presidential archives, to be given to the care of the government. The first collection of the illustrious President Juan José Arevalo is scheduled to be handed over to the Presidential Palace in the near future.

The staff is dedicated: Dr. John T. Way, Lucrecia Arriola de Paniagua and a few others are working to open the doors to the public and let the light shine in on the cultural treasures hidden within.

According to Mrs. Paniagua, anyone can now access the archives, historical or photographical. Come to the front desk and make an appointment. Send them email or call. The staff is helpful but limited. Hopefully, it won’t always be this way.

To make an appointment, visit www.cirma.org.gt, email lpaniauga@cirma.org.gt or call +(502)7832-1004.

How I Got Gelded and Respected

2010-07-01T05:33:49-07:00

We all recall that Rodney Dangerfield’s one-liner, “I get no respect,” became his middle name. His fans (including me) suspected that before turning pro, Rodney worked countless, tedious day jobs. But there was (and still is) something that any man can do to summon for himself beaucoup respect, one that will knock him on his back— somewhat literally.

I refer to vasectomy at one of Guatemala’s APROFAM clinics.

The arrival of my third son, Aaron, was unplanned, but I rejoice hourly for his presence. He and his brothers have channeled so much joy into my life, even prenatally, that I could wish the stork could continue to visit at 40-month intervals. But the wife and I are quite middle-aged, and I realized that if this keeps up, I might be in Depends before my kids are out of Pampers.

So, further pregnancies would have to be averted. Not that there was any big risk, since at my age marital congress can be as infrequent as blue moons. Even so, next time that it really is that time of the decade, morning sickness must not follow. So I volunteered to be neutered, to save the wife from being spayed. It seemed like the, uh, manly thing to do.

Most people think APROFAM is governmental, but it is in fact a foundation seeking to reduce Guatemala’s soaring natural increase, which rivals the Dominican Republic for first place in the Americas. Countrywide, APROFAM has dozens of clinics; these provide operations for folks wanting to avoid pregnancies, and pre- and post-natal care for those who do not.

We were brothers in what is apparently Central America’s second-smallest fraternity. The social worker remarked that this was the first time she had seen two men on the same day.

At the time of my own visit (2007), men were fixed for Q25—cheaper than a Mac Attack, yet better both for posterity and for one’s arteries. Women were fixed for Q75.

My arrival on the appointed day was cause for elation among the clinic employees, almost all of whom were women. The reason was not “Look girls! Mr. Expat Make-out Man, whose fame precedes him, is through sewing wild oats!” No, it was more like, “Look girls! There are two men here today!”

And so there were. In the packed waiting room, myself and one other dude, among dozens of women, held appointment cards. Other men were present, but not as patients. They were there to provide bedside support or to see for themselves that the thing would be done.

I had spoken over the previous weeks with the APROFAM file clerk, the secretary, the nurse and the social worker—all women. Each treated me as if I were the Pope granting them a private audience. Each adored me with the same fixation as did women in the old Charles Atlas ads—where the 97-pound weakling chases off the bully after undergoing body-building. Are you Rodney Dangerfields paying attention?

A one point I was surveyed, since APROFAM wants to know who their customers are. They asked about how many children I already had, about my age, about my profession—and even about my religion. That raised my eyebrows a little. But these people were on a good mission, so I had best cooperate.

The women’s operation entails not only more invasiveness, but more preparation. So, a whole room is set aside for them to recline in after the nurse administers injections on the shoulder and in the groin. The waiting women were all led off for this, leaving me alone with Pablo (the other guy) and his wife, Yoli. We chatted and became fast friends. We were brothers in what is apparently Central America’s second-smallest fraternity (the smallest being tuk-tuk operators who read Miss Manners). The social worker remarked that this was the first time she had seen two men on the same day. On most days, she added, they see none. She estimated, unofficially, that spay patients outnumber neuter patients by 45ish to one.

Pablo, the braver of us two, went first. Yoli and I talked some more. She told me how much she appreciated Pablo for insisting that he, not she, would have an operation. And she gave me the same “You are a real man!” smile that I got from the clinic workers.

After 15 minutes, however, Pablo emerged from the operating room, taking tiny steps and cupping his, uh, jewels. Oops! The real man in me began to falter. The nurse apparently noticed, for she said, “Pues, it’s not what you think. He’s not in pain. Just following doctor’s orders.” Pablo himself gave me a look that said, “If I could, you’d better.”

And so I did. It was not wholly painless, as zero-growth campaigners sometimes claim. But it was easier than many trips to the dentist. The harder part was that the operation was performed by a boy surgeon under the observation of two young female medical students. In my state of full blush, I was still fully clothed by the time I was on the table. The medical crew had seen this before, evidently. So, with some determined wrenching they dropped my drawers for me without any hint of “oh-he’s-one-of-those!”

I thought, “Wow—strange women are undressing me!” The wife thinks this happens a lot (PS: it never happens even with unstrange women). I could not look these women in the eye; maybe I was afraid to see them seeing me. But their dispassion and professionalism calmed me, unexpectedly. Weeks later I recognized one of them on a Sololá street, coming my direction, so I altered my course just in time. My inner voice exclaimed, “That chick has seen me naked!” Later I regretted this, since the manhood that such women must admire is not about anatomy but character, and it is always good to meet admirers.

And so, four years later, Aaron remains my baby. Marital congress remains rare, but the door may be opening for my greatest hope: adopting a little girl who will grow up counting her Dad a real man.

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Carole Wilson Lewis

2010-07-01T04:55:37-07:00

written by Dianne Carofino

Carole Wilson Lewis

Carole Wilson Lewis is one of many Guatemalan food lovers who enjoyed traditional Guatemalan meals as they were growing up but today do not know how to prepare it themselves. Therein lies the problem: how to learn to prepare traditional Guatemalan food in today’s decidedly untraditional world.

Carole recounts that, as a child, she loved to spend time in her grandmother’s kitchen. During that time, she says, the family cook held a respected and full-time position, not only in her grandmother’s home, but in many Guatemalan homes. The cook’s position needed to be full time, because food preparation was so time consuming. Carole remembers that when she was very young, the cook still went to the Guatemala City mercado by horse and carriage. Then, when the food arrived home, it took hours of preparation before the wonderful meals flowed out of the kitchen.

Although her grandparents built one of the first modern homes in Guatemala, designed by a protégé of the well-known French architect Le Corbusier, Carole’s grandmother insisted upon building a poyo into her kitchen. There, alongside her modern appliances, the traditional poyo burned coals on its surface. On top of these coals, meat and a variety of vegetable were boiled together, producing the delicious broth of a cocido. A dos fuegos was used to produce a roasted meal. Food would be placed in a pan on top of the coals of the poyo. Another pan, also with coals in it, would be placed on top of the first, providing heat from both top and bottom. Preparation of tortillas would, of course, begin with the grinding stone, or piedra de moler.

In search of the meals of her childhood and youth, Carole has utilized many older cookbooks. In some recipes, she has found that the given amount of ingredients can still be used today. But, with the oven replacing a dos fuegos, for example, it is difficult to accurately judge cooking temperatures and time. In other recipes, the amount of ingredients to use is difficult to determine. The oldest cookbook Carole has utilized, Lybro de Cocyna, which dates from 1844, is an anonymous compilation of recipes published by the University of San Carlos. One of the recipes calls for “one cent’s worth of cinnamon.” What is the equivalent amount of cinnamon for today’s recipe? A teaspoon? A tablespoon? More? Less?

The oldest cookbook Carole has utilized, Lybro de Cocyna, which dates from 1844, is an anonymous compilation of recipes published by the University of San Carlos

Carole’s passionate hobby of the past several years has been to authentically adapt ingredients and cooking methods from traditional recipes to today’s lifestyle. This has involved Carole’s analysis of many versions of a specific recipe, which results in her own compilation, or “consensus” recipe, and then trials of that recipe in Carole’s own kitchen.

Starting with the 1920s cookbook by Doña Crecencia de López, Carole has utilized, among others, the cookbooks of Doña Catalina de Balsells, Doña Aurora Sierra Franco de Álvarez and Doña Julia de Montano. Who knows? There may one day be a cookbook by Doña Carole Wilson Lewis, one that would include an easier version of these recipes for the modern lifestyle.

Carole’s own education in cooking began as a young bride. Her first husband, André Trombetta, was a Frenchman whose mother had learned to cook with the noted French chef, Mme. Bonnamour. Mme. Bonnamour, among her other culinary achievements, supervised the cooking in the boyhood home of Prince Phillip, husband of Queen Elizabeth of England. Carole recounts that her husband “was always talking about how to bone a chicken or how to make puff pastry.”

Her husband’s descriptions further fueled Carole’s own interest in all things related to cooking, and in the early 1980s, she opened Le Marmiton, “The Kitchen Helper,” a cooking store in Zone 9, Guatemala City. The store sold kitchen utensils, and various well-known individuals gave cooking lessons. Copeland Marks, a food historian who wrote for Bon Appétit gave lessons on Southeast Asian cooking. Marks was also the author of False Tongues and Sunday Bread: A Guatemalan and Mayan Cookbook. Jean Francois, now owner and chef of Tartines, taught French cooking at Le Marmiton. With the death of her husband, Carole closed Le Marmiton and eventually moved to La Antigua Guatemala.

Carole shares with us the following traditional recipes, updated for today’s cook and kitchen, but retaining special traditional features, such as the use of the jug with a small mouth, the tinaja. She has also provided the Spanish words for ingredients, for our English speakers who would like to shop in the mercado or smaller tiendas, as well as the prices which she has most recently experienced. The Piloyada Antigüeña is one of the dishes which was prepared using traditional methods from Carole’s childhood, and which we can all enjoy today, with the use of our modern appliances.

Fresco de Súchiles

This is a fermented drink made from fruit, most commonly from pineapple.
In an earthen jug with a small mouth
(a tinaja) place the following:

• Peel of one pineapple (piña)
• 1 cup toasted dried kernels of yellow corn (maiz amarillo)
• ½ brick of panela, diced (panela is a cake of brown sugar)
• 1 inch of fresh ginger, crushed (jengibre)
• ½ cup toasted barley (cebada)
• 4 dried jocotes (jujubes) found at spice stalls in the mercado (optional).
• 10 cups of water

Tie up the following in a piece of cheesecloth and add to the jug.
• 5 toasted allspice seeds (pimienta gorda)
• 1 tsp toasted anise seeds (anís)

Cover the tinaja with cheesecloth and let ferment undisturbed for three days.
Strain and serve cold. Add more water as needed.

Chinchivir

A típico drink of Antigua, is made from a “secret” recipe passed from generation to generation. Very few people have the recipe. Café Ana has it on its menu. You can also buy it at Ferretería Armas on 7a avenida norte (a hardware store where you can also buy cucurucho costumes in all sizes) and at a house next to Colegio La Salle on 4a avenida norte.

If you mix
• ginger beer or
• ginger tea with Fresco de Súchiles, you can come up with your own version of Chinchivir.

Refresco de Chan

This is a refreshing drink made from the seeds called Chan (Hyptis suaveolens), a favorite drink of the peoples of the New World. The conquistadors rejected it because of its association with ¨pagan¨ rituals. It is high in protein, and is taken to avoid constipation. You can find it in the mercado at the spice stalls.

Soak 2 oz. of chan seeds (semillas de chan) in 2 quarts of water until the seeds swell, about one hour.

Add:
• Sugar, or other sweetener, to taste
• 1 cup lime juice
Serve over ice or very cold.

Piloyada Antigüeña

Piloyes are large red beans with white stripes. They can be bought in the market for about Q8 a pound. (Prices depend on season and harvest)
In a large heavy pot, soak overnight in water to cover 1 lb. Piloyes with 1 head of garlic and 1 large onion

The next morning, bring the pot to a boil and add:
• 1 lb pork tenderloin or other pork (pork tenderloin is lomo de cinta and costs approximately Q20 per pound)
Boil gently until both beans and meat are done. The cooking time will be approximately 35-60 minutes, depending on the type of pot you use. Do not overcook the beans. They should remain whole. Take out the meat and drain the beans. While still hot, toss the beans with

• 2 tbsp vinegar
Cut the meat into small cubes, mix with the beans and set aside to cool.

While the meat and beans are cooling, prepare the following:
• Queso duro, to taste, grated (Queso duro is a salty cheese used grated like parmesan)
• ¼ Queso de capas cut in cubes (Queso de capas is a fresh cheese, similar to fresh mozzarella, found in the supermarket
• 1 bell pepper, chopped (Chile pimento Q1.25)
• 12 black or white butifarras (see below) boiled for 20 minutes and then sliced
• 8 ripe tomatoes, chopped (Q3/1b)
• 1 large onion, chopped (Q1.25)
• ¼ cup parsley, chopped (perejil)

Mix the above with beans and meat and season with the following:
• ½ tsp black pepper
• 1 tsp fresh thyme (tomillo) chopped
• 2 bay leaves (laurel)
• Salt, to taste
• Oil, to taste (about 6 tbsps)
• Vinegar, to taste (about 1 tbsp)

Refrigerate.
This recipe will serve 15 as a side dish,
or 6 as a main course.

*Butifarras are sausages, originally from Cataluña, which were brought to the new world during the Colonial era. They are made with ground lean pork, salt, pepper, bacon and spices. White butifarras are made with meat only and black butifarras are made with some pork blood. These can be bought in the small tiendas of Antigua, supermarkets, and the mercado.

Food photos by Rudy A. Girón

The Art of the Gourd

2010-07-01T03:00:55-07:00

The women show their latest creations (the author is in the front on the right)

The future income-producing ability of a town in Baja Verapaz may be connected to the gourds that grow in the area

text and photos by Kathryn Rousso

Mayan Hands is a small, fair-trade organization that has been working with Mayan artists since 1989. It works with approximately 200 weavers, organized in groups of 12 to 50 women in 11 western and northern Guatemalan highland communities. Its mission is to assist these women by providing the skills and markets necessary to earn a regular income, enabling them to provide for their families and gain control over their lives.

One of these groups is from an aldea of Rabinal, Baja Verapaz. Its members perfected the art of weaving beautiful scarves, but recent low market demand forced them to question their product and try a new idea. The answer, as it turns out, might be with gourds.

Rabinal is famous for gourd (jícaras or morros and guacales) art. Gourds (C. alta H.B.K.) grow in the area and are often used as containers and cups. In pre-colonial times gourds were ornately decorated, very highly valued and traded extensively. During colonization the Spaniards even added silver trimmings to the already decorated gourds. Gourds were also associated with many rituals and social gatherings.

Traditional gourd patterns often resemble figures found on prehistoric pottery, and are accomplished with red, yellow, black and white paints or engraved. The engraving is done with a crude knife on a cleaned gourd dyed black with lampblack, obtained from the smoke of ocote (pitch pine) mixed with grease. After the design is complete the gourd is polished with a waxy material called nij, which is obtained from an insect (Coccus nige or Coccus axuua) that lives on resinous trees in the region. The wax is extracted from the insects by boiling them and squeezing it out of the body. To thicken and make it soft enough for a good polish, the nij is mixed with linseed oil and lampblack. It is repeatedly rubbed on the gourd with the palm of the hand as more is added to achieve a high gloss.

Another common local material is the tecomate or bottle-shaped calabash (Lagenaria siceraria [Molina] Standl), which is turned into instruments or water containers. To clean out the interior, a small hole is cut in the narrow top, and the seeds and pulp removed from the dry fruit. For rattles, small clay pellets and stones are inserted, and then a piece of cornhusk is placed in the hole. For water containers, a dry corncob is placed in the hole to prevent spillage.

As it turns out, gourds are common and popular in many worldwide locations, and through Jim Widess (a gourd enthusiast who has written a number of books on the subject), owner of the Caning Shop in Berkeley, California, Mayan Hands contacted me, and I was invited to teach a workshop on making gourd dolls.

Thirty women learned looping techniques and worked with maguey fiber, beads, cordage, fabric and feathers. One young woman even used her own hair. The first day everyone created tecomate shaped dolls, with the exception of one, who made a chicken. Morros were turned into decorated bowls. The second day more animals emerged, and ideas and gourds got more colorful. The women worked hard and had fun.

Now the task of growing morros and tecomates, plus exploring new forms and added materials is upon them. As with other traditional arts of Guatemala, the evolution into contemporary styles can provide new markets, and with these, increased income is possible. So, as the women from this small aldea look toward their future, help support them, and be on the lookout for unique gourd products in the marketplace, and the label Mayan Hands.

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Oliver Thornwhistle on—Could Weeds Turn Guatemala Green?

2010-07-01T02:00:21-07:00

Wild castor beans, Panajachel, alt. 5100 ft, temp 70° F

Could two common weeds hold the keys to Guatemala’s independence from petroleum imports? Chances are you’ve seen them, just not recognized them as you drive about Guatemala, especially since one flourishes in the coastal lowlands and the other is widespread in the highlands.

The piñon or the higuerilla, at about 38 percent and 19 percent by weight respectively, are two weed seeds which when refined into super-fine diesel may hold the keys to independence from the diesel smoke clogging Guatemala’s highways and your lungs. Then replace gasoline with ethanol, distilled from Guatemala’s prolific sugar production (fifth-largest producer in the world) and voila! A green Guatemala.

Piñon, native to Guatemala, grows in lowland soils and climates. It is fast becoming better known as jatropha, from its official name Jatropha curcas. Used mainly in arid regions as fencing, since cattle do not like the taste of its foliage, until recently it served principally as a free fence post for farmers. Now there are thousands of acres under cultivation, and the pioneering research into jatropha is being carried out in Guatemala, fittingly enough for a native plant. Millions of acres are under cultivation in Brazil, Indonesia and India. Users of the first commercial quantities of jatropha-based “diesel” produced here report that it burns cleaner than even the highest-grade diesel obtainable in international markets (Guatemala’s trucks and buses use an inferior grade) and is easier in wear and tear on diesel engines.

Jatropha, under ideal cultivation, management and processing, yields about 38 percent pure diesel by weight, and the simple distillation process can be worked out by a high school chemistry student.

It sounds too good to be true—“A desert weed that animals don’t eat—just throw it on fertile soil, stand back and get rich overnight.” That’s the pitch of a new breed of jatropha hucksters, peddling cheap Mexican desert acreage as an ideal investment. Sure enough, it can be planted in Mexican deserts, but the cold nights (remember, it is native to Guatemala’s warm coastal lowlands) preclude maturity to commercial yields. Researchers here are now homing in on basic facts about commercial jatropha production. Soils, rainfall patterns and basic spacing and pruning techniques are key elements in commercial production—too much rain befuddles jatropha, more used to arid climates.

Higuerilla, Ricinis officinus, prolific in Guatemala’s Highlands, is better known worldwide as the castor bean. Its yield by weight when converted to diesel is about half that of jatropha, but since its price is twice as high it is competitive. Dreaded castor oil is not the most important use for the castor bean. That role falls to it as the key ingredient in Castrol lubricants. Before you run out to pick a bunch to experiment with, beware since castor beans and leaves can produce nasty skin rashes.

Add ethanol, the sugar-based gasoline substitute already produced in massive quantities, to jatropha and castor diesel, and Guatemala becomes independent from fossil fuels.
Dreaming?

wild jatropha, El Estor, alt. 100 ft., 100° F

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