Tuesday, February 24, 2009

El que se creyo grande o se creyo chico

 February 24, 2009

  • Post office
  • Sketching
  • 12:15 pm, leave Copan Ruinas
  • 12:30 Guatemala border
  • 7:00 pm arrive la Antigua Guatemala.

February 25, 2009

  • Convento de recolecta
  • Cemetary
  • Catedral
  • Iglesia de la Merced
  • Mercado
  • La Esquidilla
  • Inguat
  • Movie: el gusto de otros

 

El que se creyo grande o se creyo chico

El que fue pobre o fue rico.

Poder el destino contiendes desiguales.

El cemeterio a todos nos cobija,

Por iguales duermen….

Por que iguales somos…

Convertido en ceniza….

--Roso Ramon Mazariegos

 

El guatelmalteco …

No toma: chupa

No molesta: friega y chinga

No es adinerado: es pistudo.

No es bonito: es chulo.

No es entormetido: es shute

No conversa: platica.

No se averguenza: se chivea

No es cualquier cosa: es chapin.

--T-shirt

 

No amamos nuestra tierra por grande or ponderosa. Por debil or pequeña, por sus nieves y noches blancas or su diluvio solar. La amamos, simplemente, porque es la nuestra.

--Luis Cardoza y Aragon.

 

February 26, 2009

  • Iglesia San Francisco
  • Catedral
  • Breakfast
  • Museo
  • Capuchinas
  • Museo de Artesania

 

Venta de nueces

Un chico me vendia nueces. 80Q por una libra, 40Q por media. Me dio por probar los: marañon,habas, mani, endulzados.

--sabes pero no tengo habmbre.

--andale comprame para darle de comer a mi familia.

--pero como los pesas? No tienes vascular.

--es que las bolsitas ya estan medidas para el peso. Y Dios nos esta viendo. Asi si le quito, Dios sabra.

Me conmovio su respuesta de honestidad que le compre.

 

Perhaps La Antigua can lull you into security, but I find the Guatemalans among the nicest, politest people. They are simply good-natured to all the annoying questions that tourist make. And Guatemala has among the most inexpesive cities. But going to volcano Pacaya or to Cerro de la Cruz instill fear (mostly from reading the guides and talking to locals).

 

Journal writing in public

This writing in my journal creates an insularity in the public, as my attention is interiorly directed. I wonder if it is so good and healthy—this self-reflection in public, as it indicates a “self-absorption” or interior dialog not to be interrupted. I wonder if just closing the book will open me up to my surroundings and meeting others, like Antonio. It could also be that I am expended by the end of the day.

 

While in SE Asia, I had wonderful, tasty and cheap food, especially in Thailand where you could get freshly prepared food from street vendors for less than $2.00. When I got back to San Francisco, I found the food I ate bland and unenjoyeable. I consciously didn´t eat any Thai food. And it is understandable. Often you cannot get the same ingredients you can in the home country and when you do they often are not the same or as fresh. For example, the Thais have 3 different types of ginger.

 

Yesterday I had pupusas at ¨pupusera de Mary¨in Copan: chicharron, ayote (it is a type of vegetable), frijoles, and lorroco. They were all so tasty (for $.75 each). I normally do not eat chicharron but it was divine. And the lorroco was in a farmers´cheese. The lorroco was fresh and crunchy. I order lorroco when I eat pupusas in San Francisco, but they are not like this. In SF, they are wilted and overcooked, probably the way they are preserved to arrive in the US. How can I order lorroco pupusas again? Traveling can ruin your taste for ethnic food...

 

 

Apparently there is an issue with calling La Antigua Guatemala simply Antigua. Besides the confusion it might cause with the Carribean island, this shorthand for the former capital of Guatemala is disrepectful. One of the writers in a local magazine compared it with calling New York or New Zealand, simply New. It is just that humans tend to abbreviate words and names....

 

La Antigua is a colonial city (another colonial city?) in a valley at the foot of three volcanoes (one of which is still active). The temperature is no longer hot (ever since Honduras). It is mild during the day and cool in the evenings. Beautiful clouds pass by. The indigenous influence is heavy here as the Mayas make up a great percentage of the population and preserve their culture and language in close villages. A gentleman who just shined my shoes is from Chichicastenango. I have never seen someone take such joy in shining my shoes. His name is Jose and he has been shining shoes for 20 years!

 

Today I inadvertently came upon the village market. Such beautiful wares, especially the textiles. Against my better judgment I ended up buying a t-shirt, 2 scarves, a key holder, and a letter opener (all for $Q 100 or $US12.50) I realize that I am not a very good negotiator. A good negotiator needs to 1. propose a price and 2. learn to walk away. Now do I really need this stuff?

 

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. The priest, padre Francisco, in the La Merced was dynamic and funny. He has charisma to be a priest. He said Christians should look forward to Lent. Put on a happy face when fasting. Quietly give alms to the poor. And pray in private. But the season should be lived in joy as it is an opportunity for conversion to be more like Jesus. Conversion significa con la version de Jesus, no la mia. It is an opportunity to be joyful, love, be generous, pray. What a wonderful way to begin the season

 

Part of traveling is going on adventures: stretching yourself, going to places where you are uncomfortable, learning to navigate in unknown territories.

 

La Antigua Guatemala

La Antigua is a beautiful charming city, and the Antigueños are amazingly polite, patient and personable. So it is difficult to believe the stories I have heard about armed robberies and murder. One of the moms from Flynn had here brother killed in a gruesome act in Guatemala and the Lonely Planet guidebook gives out warnings, so it pays to be cautious. But underneath this tranquility I was feeling an uneasy feeling of fear--not so much in the area but in me. And this was bothering me. How could a wonderful people and a place like La Antigua be a place of terrorism. My guidebook says in no uncertain terms that there are places that should not be visited without the tourist police: the cemetery, volcanoes, and Cerro de la Cruz. So this morning, as I was walking the city I saw a group of people up on Cerro de la Cruz. I determined to visit in the afternoon when the sun was no so hot.

 

I went to the hostel to leave my valuables and asked for directions from my hostel host.

¨You are going alone?¨

Yes.

¨You know the Turi-poli go at 3:00 everyday. You should go with them. What time is it?¨

3:40 pm.  I think I can catch up to them.

¨Yes, that is good.¨

 

So I go up the hill (3 kilometers) with some fear and apprehension of stalkers and muggers. I kept my eyes on the road and walked at a good clip despite the uphill grade. I go to Cerro de la Cruz in about 30 minutes and the Tourist Police were there with some ten individuals. There is a difference between foolishness and bravery, between taking on a challenge and being stupid, between taking calculated risks and putting your life in danger with full knowledge of dangers. I just couldn´t be terrorized into staying solely on the streets of La Antigua so I had to go up even if it was foolhardy.

 

Panajachel & Lago Atitlan

Yesterday I took a day trip to Panajachel. While the Lake was amazing, getting there was a bit of an ordeal. I got up early (5:30 am) to catch the colectivo (van) at 6:30. The bus was about 40 minutes late and we didn't leave La Antigua until 7:30. The road is a winding road up and down the mountains and as I am prone to motion sickness, it was not a comfortable ride.

 

We got to Pana around 10:00 and found a public ferry that took me to San Pedro La Laguna. I only had a few hours here as I had to be back at Pana for my ride back at 4:00. San Pedro is a weird place. A great part of it is for the Mayans who live here, a majority of whom are not Catholic, but evangelical as evidenced by the large Baptist church on the brow of the hill and signs all over that said, "Only Jesus saves." The other part of the town is dedicated to catering to a young, hip foreign crowd. What seemed disturbing to me is the little overlap there seemed be be between the two worlds. On one hand were Mayans selling tamales and natural orange juice. On the other were restaurants selling falafels and vegetarian options. Regardless the town is beautiful as the people there still farm around the lake. I spent the afternoon watching women come down to the lake to wash clothes and lay them out to dry. The children also helped out, then they bathed and washed themselves in the lake. Probably a good idea while the sun was out as it gets cold in the evening.

 

It was a long trip back to La Antigua. Our driver was late by 40 minutes.

?Tuviste tiempo para descansar? I asked.

--No. He estado despierto desde las 3:00 the la manana. Y todavia voy al aeropuerto hoy por la noche.

--Voy a encomendarte a Dios.

The trip took about three long hours on bumpy and windy mountainous roads. Some of the scenery was amazing, but it was hard to enjoy when you are making sure you do not get nauseous. I felt badly for the driver. But it was a cheap shuttle, $10 roundtrip.  I am taking this same company on Monday, when I leave for Tikal....

 

February 27, 2009

  • Pick up van
  • 10:00 am Panajachel
  • 11:00 am San Pedro La Laguna
  • Lunch
  • 2:30 boat
  • 3:00 pm Panajachel
  • 7:20 pm arrive La Antigua
  • Dinner

 

 

 

Chichicastenango

I signed up to go to Chichicastenango on Market day. It was a great call.  The shuttle driver was great and the people on board were very warm. We also took paved roads and went at a leisurely pace by stopping for coffee and bathroom breaks. What a difference paying for $6.00 more, for a grand total of $!6.00.

 

Chichicastenago is fascinating. The Quiche Mayan culture still thrives there. It is hopeful to be in a place where the indigenous people run everything. Some things are meant for tourists but a great much of the town serves the needs of the quiche Maya. It is not perfect. There is poverty and the neglect of government services which should be provided, but being in a place where the indigenous culture thrives is invigorating.

 

I went through the market to get to the church of Santo Tomas. The Mayan influence evident in the temple. Though the church has the structure, saints and pews of Latin American Catholic churches, the feeling is otherworldly. There is the burning of wood and offerings outside the church on the steps. And there are stalls in front of the church where candles, incense, smudge sticks, etc are sold. Men swing tin cans with burning incense outside the doors of the church, as a speaker voiced Lenten inspirational words. No photography is allowed in the temple. Inside the church is dark and is illuminated down the aisle with candles. Along the sides and the front of the church are wooden saints dressed in fabric clothing. There was a crucifix and pews in the first half of the church. In the remaining portion of the church, the floor was covered in pine needles on which the faithful knelt to put their petitions. Every several feet or so there is a 3 x 3 foot metal square on which candles are lit. the candlelit light gave the place a mystical feel. The prayers lit out candles (some 20 or so) of increasing lengths before the altar as they knelt and put their petition in prayers. They also brought offerings like flowers and live chickens to complete their petition.

 

I had a chance to go to the cemetery as well, against the advice of my Lonely Planet book (armed robberies, even when in groups). The tombs are brightly painted. There were a few families who were conducting ceremonies. One family was grieving and wailing their beloved; it was heart-rending to hear.

 

The Quiche Mayans who live here provide a market for themselves and for the tourists who arrive. It is affirming to see a community of indigenous peoples providing for themselves and the larger community. It doesn´t take away the poverty witnessed and the neglect of government agencies to serve this community. But seeing their community live and thrive is wonderful. I saw a man entertain a group of men and boys for 30 minutes with his gifted speech, his magic tricks, his demonstration of catching a snake, his ribald jokes, and his selling of epazote tincture. The men and boys enjoyed his ability to make the crowd laugh.

 

February 28, 2009

  • Market
  • Parque central
  • Hotel
  • Bank
  • Aecid
  • Park
  • Hostal
  • Merced for Mass
  • Dinner

 

How to respond

I saw a man pull out of the garbage container someone’s remaining coffee drink. He swirled it around and then poured it into his mouth. I was not sure what to think or feel: disgusted, pity, compassion, mental illness, solidarity. He said something to me and walked to another garbage receptacle and pulled out someone’s food container, sat down and proceeded to eat. Lord let me respond to him with love and compassion.

 

Ode to street food:

One of the great things about traveling is eating street food which in other countries can be cheap and delicious. Clues: 1. Look to see where people are flocking to 2. Determine if the food is made to order. 3. Is it relatively clean, though this is probably not as important as the first two.

Tonight I sample a number of dishes: chicharron pupusas with cabbage curtido and avocado (OK), carne asada with cabbage curtido between two tortillas (like a sandwich) you got a third tortilla at the bottom for cleaning up what you didn´t eat (VERY good). Dobladas: small tortilla masa with chicharron inside and fried up. Served with cabbage curtido (OK). Churros: I usually don´t eat churros, but as they were made there and then I tried a bag. They were sugary but the dough on the inside was slightly undercooked giving the inside a vanilla custard texture (Superb)

 

The local option or the tourist option

When traveling, one is confronted with those options. The local way usually means cheaper, longer time, getting information from locals and hanging out with them. The tourist way usually means more expensive, quicker time, getting information from agency or guidebook or fellow travelers, and hanging out with tourists. Each has its advantage and disadvantage

Today I took the same travel agency I took to Lake Atitlan, when I did not have a good experience. It was just more convenient to pay $30 to get from La Antigua to Flores (Tikal) and not have to worry about getting a bus to Guatemala and then another one to Flores. It turned out not too badly. The shuttle had to pick up some 13 people between 4:45 and 5:15 am, an impossible task even in the small area of La Antigua. The last clients were upset because the shuttle was 45 minutes late--the driver told the customers to call the company to complain. They decided to take a taxi. We then got caught in Monday morning traffic; so a trip that should have taken 1 hour took 3. The passengers that had early morning flights probably had to reschedule. I feel for the drivers who must pack in as many passengers into the shuttle as possible (the shuttle from La Antigua to the airport is $5.00--try finding that in the US or any other country). And then there is the rucksack brigade (of which I am one) who tries to get as much for the dollar as possible.

 

The driver got us to Fuentes del Norte bus station and three of us rucksackers boarded a bus (directo) to Flores. It was the economical one (it cost $15.00)riding with all the Guatemalans who get oof between Guatemala City and Flores, an 8 hour ride. The bus had no air-conditioning (I really don't want it) and no bathroom (inconvenient). The bus did stop about 1:00 for a  lunch and bathroom break. Still the experience of having people wave a bus down, pass other not so slow vehicles, have vendors sell their food at large towns, and have the bus driver stop at all places along the the beautiful green landscape of northern Guatemala road is part of the experience.

I take another "tourist" shuttle to Palenque, Mexico on Wednesday.

 

March 3, 2009

  • 5:00 am leave Flores
  • 6:45 am arrive Tikal
  • Plaza mayor
  • Templo III
  • Templo IV (great view)
  • Mundo Perdido
  • Siete Templos
  • Templo V (awe inspiring, vertigo producing)
  • Michele from France
  • Templo VI
  • Sehder
  • Templo IV
  • 4:40 Van
  • 7:15 pm arrive Flores
  • Dinner

 

Tikal

What an awesome place Tikal is. It is set in the jungle; when viewed from Temple IV, it is like looking over an ocean of trees—very peaceful, tranquil and a cool breeze over the tops of the trees.

Michele the engineer said that the Mayans did no build this to commune with Nature but to subdue it. As someone who has lived in the jungle—the jungle, the snakes, the heat, the humidity, the mosquitoes—all become your enemies. What humans want is to bring Nature under control. And building Tikal was one way the Mayans dominated Nature.

I said it was a way of communing with Nature, to which Michele disagreed. Perhaps I was unclear in my thinking and articulating. But I saw Tikal as a ceremonial place to seek God’s favor, for sufficient rain, for a good crop, for success in battle. Perhaps that has been man’s struggle to dominate & subdue, not to commune with Nature. And yet we are part of Nature. We cannot deny that we are dependent on Nature.

 

March 4, 2009

  • 5:30 am leave Flores
  • 8:45 am arrive Bethel, Guatemala
  • 9:00 am arrive Corozal, Mexico
  • 10:00 am leave Corozal
  • Arrive Palenque
  • Hostal Yaxkin
  • Immigration
  • Bank
  • Plaza de Artesania
  • Internet
  • Dinner

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Homesickness

 February 21, 2009

  • 5:00 am Leave Managua
  • 8:30 am Honduras border
  • 12:00 pm Tegucigalpa
  • 5:45 pm San Pedro Sula
  • Hotel
  • Dinner

 

Homesickness

Yesterday on the bus ride from Nicaragua to Honduras was the first time I felt homesick. I am midway through my trip to Mexico and Central America and have another 3 week trip to Argentina/Brazil soon after. And I began questioning whether I have the desire or energy to do one more to the Andean countries. I am not sure if the feeling was homesickness or wistfulness or some stability. Perhaps it was brought on by the motion sickness of being on a mountain road, of running of the movie Babylon A for the third time, or the air-conditioning in the bus which had me in a fetal position, or the regret of leaving my mouth guard in the hostel in Granada, or having to resolve a past due credit card payment from overseas when they will not accept putting it on another card. It could be that I am getting tired of picking up and moving every couple days: the stress of finding a place and orienting myself to it. Getting cash (right now none of the Copan atms are working), finding internet cafes, using transportation, negotiating with vendors, finding good food (thought this has not been too difficult), and making sure I don't leave anything behind (like my journal, my soap dish, or my mouth guard). Today in Copan, I feel refreshed but I will have to see what my wanderlust level looks like in another month.

The frustrating part of being in Honduras is that the ATMs. They go out of service. When I arrived, I went to three before I found one that worked, (the taxi driver was kind enough to locate one for me). In Copan Ruinas, two available ATMs are not working and the third is not in my system.

 

I have to learn how not to lose things. I lost my journal on the train from NYC to DC (which I was grateful to get back at some expense). I left my soap dish at Tia Carmen’s—no big loss but I did have to purchase another one in Mexico. And now I left my mouth guard in Don Alfredo’s Posada in Granada—a big deal as it cost $600 and $700 to replace it. I must have a system to putting out my stuff and collecting it so I don’t lose stuff.

 

Tegucigalpa is nestled in a valley. The city spreads up the hillsides. It is pretty but in many places it is ringed by shanty towns along the periphery indicating the poverty of its citizens.

 

Honduras is a beautiful mountainous country. At certain points there are coniferous trees, something I have not seen in other Central American countries. The climate has been temperate—not hot—and perhaps a little cool. The weather has been cloudy and it has rained in the afternoon for short spurts.

 

Downtown San Pedro Sula after dark is not a pleasant place to be in. I have never seen so many men find corners in which to relieve themselves. Watch where you step. Many places are shut down after dark and so it becomes a rather intimidating place to be in.

 

But I did have a memorable night there. After checking out where the cathedral was, I had dinner at a street vendor. All she sold was carne asada and chorizo. It was served with cabbage and pickled onions and corn tortillas. It could have been that I hadn't eaten any thing all day except for the terrible premade sandwich at the bus stop, but it was too good. Street food can be so delicious and cheap.

 

On the way back to the hotel, a woman was making baleadas (flour tortillas filled with black beans and other stuff) but I didn't know what they were. A older gentleman who had too much to drink said hello to me but I ignored him trying to find out what the baleadas were. He spoke to me again in English and I spoke to him in Spanish. He took me by the arm and had me sit down in his chair, saying I was his friend. I am learning to take the offensive but taking charge of these encounters by asking questions. His name was Antonio. He had worked in Kansas City. He kept putting his fist to his heart saying I was his friend. I got up to leave and he hugged me heartily. He offered me some drink but I declined. I realized I had to leave and pulled my arm from his grip saying, "goodbye". He blew me a kiss, saying I was his friend, I was his friend. Who would have known Hondurans would be so friendly.

 

February 22, 2009

  • Mass
  • Bus terminal
  • 11:00 am leave San Pedro Sula
  • 2:15 pm arrive Copan Ruinas
  • Explore Copan Ruinas
  • Telephone
  • Museum
  • Dinner
  • Internet

 

February 23, 2009

  • Café Welchez
  • Hotel
  • Copan Ruinas arqueologicas with Eduardo, guide
  • Lunch

 

Copan Ruinas is a nice, quiet little town. There are not the armed guards present as in San Pedro or Teguichgalpa. And people hang out in the central plaza. The men here wear cowboy hats. I could live here.

 

Copan Ruinas Archeological Site is known for its Mayan fine sculpture and hieroglyphics. The stelle are impressive sculptures. The fine stone work reminds me of the work in Angkor Wat.

 

I belong or do not belong

I don’t gravitate to the fellow travelers and sometimes I connect with locals, Luis the construction worker from LA and Florida who I met on the bus and gave me the name of a friend who is a tour guide. And then there is the woman with whom I spoke while waiting for the bus in the bus station. But where do I belong. I notice that when I am traveling, I look to the backpacker crowd to know that I am not alone. Not that I refer to them, it is just that they offer me a level of comfort that being with the locals does not. And although I am Latino and blend in despite my backpack, I am still an outsider—evident in my speech and questions.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Poesia es la consciencia de la Tierra.

February 17, 2009

  • Bus Station
  • 6:00 am Leave Quepos
  • 9:00 am arrive San Jose
  • Bank
  • Post Office
  • Lunch
  • 12:00 TICA Bus Station
  • 12:40 Leave SJO
  • 5:20 Nicaraguan Border
  • 6:30 PM leave border
  • 8:00 pm arrive Granada.

 

Poesia es la consciencia de la Tierra.

--theme for Festival de la Poesia

 

 

Buses

Food

Catch words

Soliciting

Nicknames

Toilets

Mexico

Personalized with religious imagery

Variety and ubiquity

Piche buey “guey”

Hawkers everywhere

Chilangos: Mexico City.

Public toilets, usually pay

Panama

Personalized with cartoons and graffiti

Comedores: cafeteria style. Little fresh fruit.

Carribean accent

Not solicitious

 

 

Costa Rica

Clean & simple. Little or no religious imagery

“Sodas”. Tasty not spicy. Fresh fruit. Great coffee.

“amor”

Not solicitious

Ticos

Public toilets are usually free

Nicaragua

Old school buses. Small dedications to God.

Chile criollo. Gallo pinto with platano maduro & queso fresco.

Vos,

Vaya pue’

Solicitous along market street. Rather quiet

Nicas

Water shortage issues. Usually free of charge

Honduras

Unadorned

Carne asada. Baleadas. K-trachas. Chicken galore!

amor

Solicitous, pagers

catrachas

Usually pay. Poor conditions

Guatemala

Very colorful exterior

Pipian (mole) Hilachas de carne

Vaya,

Buenas pilas, vos

Good negotiators, solicitous in market.

Chapines

Pay public toilets.

 

 

I arrived last night to Granada, a beautiful colonial city along Lake Nicaragua. It is not the undulating city spread of Guanajuato with its center along a gorge and its streets and alleys that wind up the slopes. Granada is laid out as a grid that gradually comes down along the lake, which provides cool breezes. The lake spills out into the Carribean which provided commerce routes to Europe (and access to pirates and invaders, like William Walker, a Unitedstatan, who wanted to proclaim himself president of Central America in the 1880s).

 

February 18, 2009

  • Mercado
  • Cathedral
  • Plaaza de la independencia
  • Convento de San Francisco
  • Torre de cathedral
  • Calzada & Lago
  • Centro Turistico
  • Carnaval
  • Groceries
  • Internet
  • Dinner
  • Poesia & Musica
  • Hostel

 

Haga Patria. Mate al orteguismo.

 

El trabajo es tu digno laurel.

 

La razon es mas fuerte que el fanatismo.

 

La lucha contra el poder es la lucha de la memoria contra el olvidio.

 

NO PACTO.

 

Uno cuenta la historia y el pequeno poeta dispierta.

 

--graffiti en Granada

 

 

Bienaventurado el hombre

Que no sigue las consignas

Del partido…

Ni asiste a los mitines,

Ni se sienta en al mesa

Con los gangsters….

--Erntesto Cardenal.

 

It is cooler than Panama and less expensive than Costa Rice. Nicaragua is a poor country but its people are rich in sincerity, friendliness and culture. They are genuine in their offers to help.

 

I have arrived in the middle of a poetry festival which provides many venues of entertainment. The two events I have been to have been packed. But then again this is Nicaragua, the land of Ruben Dario, where poets are heroes. Even the graffitti extolls the genre: Viva la poesia. I learned of Alfonso Cortes (1893-1965)a Nicaraguan poet who eventually suffered from mental illness. He is nonetheless is lauded for his poetry.   

 

February 19, 2009

  • Breakfast with Greg, his wife, & Conrad
  • Leave to Rivas
  • Return to station
  • Granada & internet
  • Hostel
  • Downtown
  • La Colina for Dinner
  • Don Alfredo

 

February 20, 2009

  • Leave for Managua
  • Managua
  • Hotel
  • Loma Tiscaya
  • Nueva Catedral
  • Area Monumental
  • Catedral Vieja
  • Palacio Nacional
  • Malecon

 

Mombacho Volcano is only about 10 km from Granada, but it is a world away. The high altitude of the volcano at 1350 meters creates a cloud forest where it is almost always covered in fog and mist. Bromelaids, ferns and orchids grow wild. There are also fumaroles in certain places that cause different plants with succulent leaves to grow. The fumaroles are holes in the earth where the heat from the volcano escapes. There is also wildlife there: monkeys, tigercats, frogs, salamanders, humming birds, but the only large animal I was was a sloth. Still it is a remarkable place in a beautiful country.

 

I stopped in Managua because I have to catch a bus to Honduras at 5:00 am and TICA buses don´t go out of Granada. Apparently it was established as a capital between the rival cities of Leon (former capital) and Granada along Lake Managua. It is a large expansive city, not like the walkable areas of Casco Viejo in Panama City, or San Jose, Costa Rica, or Granada. It has large thoroughfares which makes it imperative to take taxis or public transportation to get around. And the streets seem unpopulated which gives it an eerie feeling. The Sandanista slogans with Daniel Ortega´s image are evident throughout the city.

They strike terror in you. I arrived in Managua and a friend of a firend warned me that elections were rigged and the security level is at the same level as in Mexico City. I left my money and passport in the hotel on the advice of the owner. It is a bit unnerving. Is it safe?

But what is interesting is how a fear can spread through one´s perception.

Frances, John´s friend warned me of the political goings on and the security issues of Managua. And when I got to the hostel today, the property owner told me to leave my passport, extra cash and credit cards there--yo respondo por ellas--because of threats of being assaulted. He told me where to visit, but to always take main roads. How is that for a confidence builder just as I am about to go out.

The evidence of poverty is real in Nicaragua. I am told there is 35% unemployment rate so people will do what is necessary to live. I took a taxi to the Area Monumental near to the old Cathedral and along the side of this main thoroughfare, was a encampment of people living in makeshift shelters of cardboard and plastic bags. It was very sad to see.

When I arrived at the Cathedral square, the church was a shell a remnant of the 1972 earthquake indicative of the area which was uninhabited. A thin woman simulated going for my pocket and her son copied her. ¨Asi pongo la mano y saco lo que tenga.¨ I smiled at the gesture but it was unnerving.

I was then approached by two boys who were offering me palm figurines. I said no thank you. But they kept insisting. At one time, one actually put the item in my hand and it fell on the ground.

¨Tome es una flor¨¨Tome es un grillo¨ 

No. No, gracias.

¨Tome como un recuerdo de Nicaragua.¨

¨No, muy amables.¨ I decided to be on the offense. ¨¿Como se llaman?¨

¨Martin. Moises.¨

¨¿Son hermanos?¨

¨No, somos amigos. Ande tome un recuerdo.¨

¨Que tal si les tomo una foto como recuerdo. Me gustaria.¨And they posed for a rather somber photograph.

Then they asked for money. ¨De nos una moneda para compartir. Ande pue´.¨

¨Lo siento no tengo.¨

¨Por favor de nos algo para compartir.¨

I remembered I had gorp (peanuts and raisins) in my backpack. I gave it them to share. They looked at it rather strangely.

¨Es mi comida. Yo tambien tengo que comer, pero se las doy.¨

They half smiled and began to open it as they walked away. I don´t think it is what they expected but it was better than nothing. Poverty will make you do strange things.

 

Reflections on Faith and Reason

It was an interesting discussion I had at la Posada. Don Alfredo said, “the Catholic Church is he worst of religions.” Because of what it has wrought. The Church provides hope for the poor, but he himself has no need for it. He is his own “god.” All religion is rubbish.

How do I respond? I readily admit that the Church is responsible for some reprehensible acts (and after visiting the Museum of the Purgatory, I see some of what the Church allowed and sanctioned in the name of moral and orthodoxy rectitude). But the Church does not make any sense without a relationship to Jesus. Along with the bad, one must recognize the good the Church as done: hospitals, education, addressing the poor. Don Alfredo maintains one does not need faith to do good works. I would maintain that its true but to maintain focus and dedication especially when the obstacles become insurmountable or the work becomes unrewarding, one needs supernatural strength and that is where prayer comes in. It is love that will get you through the rough patches. The questions and anxieties that arrive because one puts them in the hands of God. But I admit that Don Alfredo’s concerns are valid/ legitimate.

You cannot serve both God and Mammon

I am realizing that I am trying to be both a Christian (a person of faith, a believer, a follower of Jesus) and a secular person (a person who contemporary who is adept with current state of affairs). There exists a language for faith and there is a language for reason. And I cannot bridge some elements to the other. How do I use a secular language to articulate elements of faith to someone who is irreligious or skeptical of all religion?

On the other hand, how do I live out a faith that is authentic and genuine and not based on superstition. (Superstition is what other religions call he rituals of other religions) Don Alfredo put some challenges to me. What is it that I believe? I have come to be skeptical of some of the things the Church teaches and have come to choose those things that seem genuine to me, eg. The perpetual virginity of Mary. I am also skeptical of the teachings of sexuality. I have come to use sitsen lieben as a principal.

The church’s teachings on sexuality are suspect to me, especially as the Magisterium is made up of celibates. The fact that as a gay man, I’ve had to overcome my self-aversion to my own sexuality was not helped by the Church’s teaching on homosexuality. I have come to believe that sexuality is a gift from God. It lies at the heart of us to remind us to love and be loved. There are those who simply view sexuality as a biological urge, but as humans we have reason and hopefully use that reason not to hurt others. The total gift of self from one person to another.

In regard to Mary’s perpetual virginity, It just seems unhealthy that Joseph and Mary would live a healthy relationship as a married couple without having any sexual relationship. If Joseph and Mary engaged in sexual relations, had children, it would not take away from their holiness or the special place Mary has in the Church. It seems that emphasis on Mary’s virginity has placed a preference to not being sexual, when sexuality can be healthy, spiritual, and holy. Joseph can be a chaste spouse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he did not have sexual relations. Mary’s virginity can be of a spiritual nature, then is she remained true to God’ word in her body and soul as if she were a virgin. It is as if once you lose your virginity you lose your innocence. She retained her innocence even as she gave birth to Jesus. I am not sure of this but it is my speculation. But I am trying to bridge my life as a rational being and my life as a person of faith.

So I find myself on the secular side. Do I give lip service to the Church by going to Mass, praying, assenting to church officials? My being catholic has no meaning without belief in Jesus. It is based on my relationship to Jesus, to following him, to listening to him, to pouring out my heart to him that any of the rest makes sense. It is this relation hip to the other that has stared great movementsin our time: MLJ Jr., Albert Scwhiezter, Mohatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez, Malcolm X, etc.

In the movie Dumbo, the protagonist, the big-eared elephant believes he can fly because he has a “magic” feather which he believes gives him the ability to fly. In the culminating scene as he falls from a circus scene, he loses his feather. His sidekick, Jeremy tells him he can fly as he falls, that he doesn’t need the feather and he flies without the feather. Is religion in the role of humanity, this feather? Is the faith we hold simply a talisman to which we ascribe great power so ca believe that we can fly? Perhaps we need to let the feather go and fly without it.

But then maybe believing makes it so. Maybe having the feather helps us to curb our appetites, to live authentically, to be compassionate and care for our fellow neighbor.

 

 

 

 

Te mataron y no nos dijeron donde enterraron tu cuerpo, pero desde entonces todo el territorio nacional es tu sepulcro o mas bein cada palmo de territorio nacional en que no esta tu cuerpo, tu resucitaste.

Creyeron que te mataban con una orden de FUEGO!

Creyeron que te enterraban y lo que hacian era enterer una semilla.

--Ernesto Cardenal

 

Madre, que dar pudiste de tu vientre pequeño

Tantas rubia bellezas y tropical Tesoro,

Tanto lago de azures, tanta rosa de oro,

Tanta paloma dulce, tanto tigre zahareño.

 

Yo te ofrezco el acero en que forje mi empeño,

La caja de armonía que guarda mis tesoros,

La peaña de diamantes del idolo que adoro

Y te ofrezco mi esfuerzo, y mi nombre y mi sueño.

--Ruben Dario

 

Yo soy aquel que ayer no mas decia

El verso azul y la cancion profana.

En cuya noche un ruiseñor habia

Que era alondra de luz por la mañana.

El dueño fui de mi jardin de sueño.

Lleno de rosas y de cisnes vajos.

El dueño de las tortolas, el dueño

De Gondolas y liras en los lagos.

--Ruben Dario