Coven on Calle 2

We arrived in Antigua two days before Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.  This is an enormous deal here (they claim that Antigua has the largest Lenten celebration in the world, and we are beginning to believe them).  There is also a very strong Maya influence, which is every bit as spiritual, and apparently far more prevalent than the church or the government will admit.

When we rented our apartment we met Astrid (our real estate agent) and Maria Jose (the apartment manager) at our new digs to sign the rental agreement.  It is a three-apartment compound.  We have only one neighbor, a single woman from western Michigan whom we had met briefly when we first looked at the apartment.  Maria Jose felt a full disclosure was in order, and she talked earnestly, with Astrid interpreting.

“Your neighbor is very strange,” Astrid said.  “I would have told you before but Maria Jose is just telling me now.”

Linda and Roger exchange glances.

“She has many people who come to the apartment and…they do rituals.  Maria Jose says they stick things in each other.”  Astrid looks around furtively, then says  in a conspiratorial stage-whisper “We think she is a witch!”

Roger and Linda exchange glances again, struck with the same thought:  is this great BLOG fodder, or what?

We have since met Renee, and she indeed has lived up to all our expectations.  She has been here for three weeks, studying the Maya Path of Water, which is a part of the Maya Cosmo Vision (soon to be released at IMAX?)  Renee has been studying with her priestess, Carla, and her husband priest, Joselo, a course of instruction that would culminate with Renee being inducted as a Maya Priestess.  This is not quite as goofy as it sounds.  We met dozens of people in India on similar spiritual quests.

Maya Priest Joselo

The Maya Cosmo Vision philosophy is simple, at least as it was explained to us.  While it is rooted in Maya numerology and astrology, its philosophical tenets are basic:

Do your best

Don’t assume

It’s not personal

Accept responsibility

Carla, Joselo, Renee

Roger is a strict adherent of the John Delaney School of Philosophy, whose basic tenets have guided his life as by a true compass.  (Never be worth more dead than alive; never have sex with anyone crazier than you are; and never mess with anyone from Downriver [Detroit]).  But the Maya Vision may give it some competition.  Last night was Renee’s final night in Antigua, and we were invited to her apartment to witness her induction ceremony, her priestess graduation commencement, if you will. It was actually quite moving—dozens of candles, garlands of flowers, and much chanting.  We then went back to our apartment with much to think about.  If Renee, Carla, and Joselo then “stuck things in each other”, as Maria Jose intimated, Roger and Linda were not invited. Renee returns home this morning.

Catholic Lent in Antigua

…and behold a Pale Horse: and he that sat on him was named Death

Well, Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. Our first Friday here was the first Friday in Lent. Every year, there are 50 separate activities held around town as part of the Lenten observance. Friday’s was a doozy. Let us preface this by saying that we were both raised Catholic. We have visited churches in a number of countries, and recognized the rituals and behaviors that we thought were universal in the Catholic Church. HAH!!



"The Seven Seals"

Two beckoning men stood at the entrance of the Cathedral, one playing a Maya flute, and the other playing a small drum. A steady stream of locals and tourists entered, some piously, others curiously. A paper mural designed to be used only this one day covered the back of the altar, and the Four Horsemen in life-size paper mache stood in front of it. A large “carpet” of dyed sawdust stenciled into intricate floral designs and made by the church brotherhood lay in front of the horsemen. It is surrounded by fruits, vegetables, and burning candles. We had learned in our walking tour that the church incorporated many Maya traditions into their rituals. These edible offerings must be part of the Maya influence.  Smoke rises behind the horsemen while dramatic music and a deep, booming voice tells the story of the Apocalypse from Revelations (we think; it was in Spanish, after all!). Some people sit in pews, others crowd the altar taking photos, some mill around and chat, and a few are eating?!?. We puzzle over the content of the message... how, exactly, does all of this relate to Lent? 


This evening spectacle was preceded in the late afternoon by an elaborate procession from the Cathedral in which a 17^th century life-sized statue of Christ bearing the cross was carried by a dozen school girls (yes, in uniform) down the steps of the cathedral and paraded around the town.  Similar pageants will be staged throughout Lent from various churches every Friday, with the big event on Good Friday, where the procession starts at 3:00 AM and covers the entire last day of Christ, complete with mounted Roman soldiers reading His sentence, and a re-enactment of the crucifixion in the central square.  The guidebook says it draws 30,000 people, but we don’t see how that is possible.  A local ex-pat resident told us it draws 500,000 people, but that is beyond comprehension.

These Lenten observances are far different from those of our past experience, like giving up Diet Coke (now THAT’S a sacrifice!), or trying not to eat meat on Friday (which we remember on Saturday). Apparently this vacation might be a tad more religious that we anticipated. Madre de Dios!  We’ll let you know.



On the Road Again

                         Agua Volcano, from our Antigua rooftop this morning

We are on the road again, this time on a two-month jaunt to Guatemala.  We arrived in Antigua yesterday, our home base for two months,  planning to travel as far afield as we feel safe.

When we retired, we knew that a second home in a warm climate probably wouldn't happen for us.  Let's face it; we can barely take care of the one we already have.  We toyed with the idea of renting a place in a better climate every year, giving us a chance to escape winter and see places more interesting than southeast Michigan.  This year was slated to be Thailand, but events conspired to keep us in the Western Hemisphere, just a few hours from home.  So here we are in Antigua, Guatemala.  Since our arrival 28 hours ago, we have checked into a hotel, looked at four apartments, begun negotiations for our Spanish language classes, weasled our way into a two-month guest pass at a five-star hotel spa, walked over 20,000 steps, and aliented a half-dozen natives.  A good beginning.  We clearly have to pace ourselves, though.

Tomorrow, we move into a lovely 2-bedroom apartment.  Many of you will be surprised and pleased that Roger didn't jump on the cheapest thing in town, and we mean that figuratively. The runners-up in our Apartment Hunters International quest were larger and some were quite spectacular, but this one is halfway between beautiful and adorable, with a terrific location.  It is colonial style, with dark open beams, rough stucco walls, and a plant-filled courtyard.  It is in the center of town, just steps from restaurants and the central plaza. The rooftop jacuzzi (which the natives pronoune yackuzzi--how quaint!) and terrace were a big selling point. 

We are anxious to get to a place where we can cook and where Roger can have his bottomless coffee (his only vice, other than the S&M thing).  So now the challenge of grocery shopping. We made a quick pass through the local "supermarket".  It took Linda 20 minutes to find what she thinks might be oatmeal. The dairy section was WAY too big.   How many types of milk do these people need?  What kind of mammals are we talking here?  The meat was scary: lots of processed sausage-like meat of undetermined origin.  This is going to take some work.

This will be a great trip, no doubt, but it will be hard to top India. It was not only an amazing adventure, but it was fun. The Indians may be an impoverished and downtrodden people, but they are so damned optimistic about everything.  And the Guatemalans are...well...so Catholic.

Biker Chicks

I survived the bike ride. I completed the bike ride. I enjoyed 15% of the bike ride. Details? The ride was classified as "easy". I can enjoy an easy ride. No problem, right? I learned after we began that my definition of easy is not the same as the one used by the bike company. Uh-oh.

The first omen was the nature of the group. There was a 40-ish American couple, young, fit Dutch, German, Australian, and Spanish couples, and us. I had really hoped we'd have a pair of 70-year-old little ladies with us, but we were as close as it got. We had a good 15 years on the rest of the group.

We started out riding on old blacktop. Not perfect, but ok. It got a little gravely and a bit broken-up in areas, but I hung in there. Then Darma, our leader, told us we would be riding for a while on a path in the rice fields, and that we should be careful not to lose our balance. He said the entrance to the path was steep, and we needed to be sure to use both brakes. The van couldn't follow us there. I asked if we would come back the same way, plotting to sit out that part of the ride. "Oh, no, we will not return here," said Darma. "Oh, shit," I thought. I walked my bike down the steep part of the path and joined the group at the bottom as Darma explained the rice irrigation system. I didn't hear a word he said, as I began to silently panic. Do you remember the scene in The Godfather, right before Michael shoots Sollozzo and McCluskey in the Italian restaurant? I'm pretty sure that I was feeling the same way Michael felt at that moment.

I know that this would not be a moment for panic for most of you. But I had just spent several hours walking these type of paths on the bird walk yesterday, and the paths are bumpy, narrow, and have deeply sloping sides with a 2-foot deep water trench on at least one side. I was a little edgy WALKING some of these paths yesterday, and I was scared. I an NOT a great bike-rider. I like to peddle around town or a campground. Nothing hard. When I ride a bike I can easily imagine doing the absolutely wrong thing. At this point, I was certain that things would soon go badly.

Time to ride. I politely let everyone go before me except the poor kid working for the tour company who had the woeful task of following the last biker (me). What a sport. I gamely rode where there was a little width and flatness, but ended up walking the bike through much of the rice paddy. I think my follower was secretly please that I walked, reducing the likelihood that he'd have to haul my sorry ass out of an irrigation ditch.

I caught up with the group and was relieved to get back on a road again. Fortunately, the ride was downhill. I kept up with the pack through the smooth areas, but lagged when the terrain got too rough for me. The last part was smooth and clear of traffic, and I actually enjoyed myself (a little), but panic and tension were the overall emotions of the day. Gail enjoyed the ride, being competent and all. She was very sweet, though, complaining about the riding conditions even though they were really no problem for her at all. Now that's a friend!

The non-riding part of the tour was great. Darma explained Balinese culture, and took us to two different family compounds to see how villagers live. He shared his own life story with us. He grew up in a village only 7 kilometers from Ubud, but didn't visit it until he wad 14 because his family had no transportation. The village had no electricity until 1984. Unbelievable. At the age of 14 he moved to Java to get a high school education. He worked as a servant for 5 years until he graduated. The man who employed him wouldn't let him visit his family at all during those years. It's hard to imagine a child valuing education enough to go through such hardship. He worked in hotels to put himself through college. As the youngest son in his family, it is his responsibility to take care of his parents in their old age. This led to conflicts between his wife and his mother, so he sent his wife to college to become a teacher to give her more independence. What a nice guy. And a good tour guide too.

Sacred Kingfishers and White-breasted Waterhens

Birding was terrific! Gail is an old pro, but I'm clueless. My only other bird-watching experience consisted of roasting in a Costa Rica parking lot without binoculars while people around me exclaimed at the beautiful birds they saw. Not much fun. Today was LOTS of fun!

We met Sumadi, our guide, at 9 am outside a small warang (cafe). She gave us binoculars, water and a list of birds we might see here in Ubud. Then she lit a stick of incense and laid out several little offerings before we set out. She has an amazing eye and immediately began pointing out birds and butterflies to us. She also seemed to know every plant we passed and gave us a basic lesson in traditional medicines.

She led us across the main street in town, up a hill, and into the rice paddies. We walked on narrow, hard-packed dirt and concrete trails that followed the irrigation canals. This is a world we never saw from a bus window. There were farmers, teenagers on scooters, small shops and restaurants, women selling fruit, and temples along the narrow footpath. We were surprised to even see rental homes and small tourist hotels back there. How on earth do people find their way to these places?

Su explained that a public board controls the water supply, and that one of its main missions was to make sure that farmers at the lowest elevations received all the water they required for their crops. Strange scarecrows and tiny shrines were scattered throughout the fields. One of the other people in our group asked if one of the structures was spiritual, and Su chuckled and said, "In Bali, everything is spiritual and practical at the same time."

Of course we saw birds, 23 different species, and about 15 kinds of butterflies, too. Su is a great tour leader and made sure even those of us who were incompetent (me) saw everything. About 2 hours into our walk, she took us to a tiny lean-to/shop to rest a bit. We had fresh coconut water, tapioca chips, rice chips, and special Bali Jimmy Carter peanuts. Afterward, we made our way back to town, with lessons all along the way. We shared a Balinese lunch and discussed what we had seen on our walk. Su also shared some of the experiences she had traveling in the US. Nice lady. Beautiful birds. Great morning.

Who Buys this Crap?

I want to know WHO buys hand-carved penis-shaped accessories. Really. Who? I'm pretty sure it isn't women tourists. And I can't picture any guys I know picking up a penis bottle-opener and saying, "This is nice. I can use one of these." Gay tourists? Are there that many of them? The wood-carvers and souvenir stands have a LOT of these things. Today I saw a display of 5-packs of penis key rings. You'd need bus-loads of people buying these to make a dent in the local supply. I guess this isn't an important question, but I can't help wondering. If you know the answer, please leave a comment to let the rest of us know.

The non-penis carving part of the trip is going very well. Yesterday, we visited the Hoffman batik factory that produces a lot of the stuff sold in the US. I will never complain about the high price of fabric again. This stuff is all hand made. Men hand-dyed the fabric, then laid it out in open, grassy fields, scrunched it and added soda powder to impact the dye, and let it dry. This process is repeated several times to achieve the right combination of colors. Then another worker takes a large, stencil-like object called a chop, dips it in melted wax, and presses it on the 15-yard piece of fabric repeatedly, never making a mistake. The cloth is dyed again, waxed again, dyed again until the desired product is obtained. It's boiled, checked for flaws, and only then is is shipped to California for packaging. These workers are independent contractors, and don't get paid until the company checks and approves of the quality of the work. This is truly amazing to me. Ask me sometime to see these fabrics when you're over. They are way cool.

Today we visited one of the most famous temples in Bali, the Tanah Lot Temple. It was build about 400 years ago on tall rocks on the west coast of the island by a Hindu priest. Holy black and white poisonous water snakes swim around the base at high tide, protecting the temple. For a few rupiah we could have taken a close-up photo of one of these holy snakes, but didn't bother. Instead, we walked for free on the holy sand, took pictures of the holy rocks, then shopped at the holy shops for holy crap. Quite successfully, I might add.

Tomorrow is our bird-watching day. We meet the group in the morning and will finish up early in the afternoon. That night, we will see a Balinese dance program. A full report will follow.

Power Shopping

We spent only one night on Bali's North coast. The area was beautiful, with black sand beaches and a fantastic sunset over the Java Sea. We left in the morning and drove across the mountains with a brief stop at a spice market. The merchants were especially ready to bargain since those tour buses don't hang around too long. They were a hoot, giving us those lines that made us want to spend our cash, like, "Special morning price", "this one special for you", "you want this one". Supy warned us not to pay more that a third of the asking price, and we took his advice to heart. Roger, your new shirt's asking price was 250,000 rupiah, and I paid 50,000. That's about five bucks. worth every penny, I'm sure. Aren't you proud of me?

Now we are in Ubud, and we have a lot going on. This afternoon, we took a short walk from the hotel to get the lay of the land. Bargains grabbed our attention and a new line, "This one perfect for you" worked on Gail. Hey, so she bought two sarongs today. She lives at the beach. She NEEDS sarongs. The cute little lady then tried to short-change me 10,000 rupiah, but I caught her. We shared a friendly laugh afterward. These people are adorably sweet. Even when they try to cheat you.

We are in an incredible hotel perched over rice fields- the setting is breathtaking. The room is beyond plush. It makes other places I've stayed look like the Yorba (not that there's anything wrong with that). If ONLY I could share my photos with you! Curses! In addition to being lovely and cushy, this place offers interesting activities. One that caught our eye was Balinese dance and dress class. That will be a real photo op! Tomorrow we head to a traditional village to learn about their method of weaving. The day after that, we visit a big batik manufacturer that exports to the US. Busy, busy. I hope we have time to lay around this hotel!

We have spent a lot of time in a bus on this trip and have made every effort to do outdoorsy activities whenever we have the chance. A couple opportunities are located right here in Ubud. The first is a birding hike, led by a well-known bird guy. Gail is an avid birder, so she knows this stuff. The second activity is a bike ride down the side of a volcano. Now this trip sounds like a lot of fun, BUT, I am quite a cowardly biker. Gail, on the other hand, bikes long distances on a regular basis. So, I do have a few concerns before we begin. Can I do this? The flyer says it's good for all ages, but is it REALLY? It's downhill, but what if it's too steep? What if I fall? If I fall and start crying like a four-year-old with a skinned knee, I'll be REALLY embarrassed. Ahhhh, what to do? There's only one way to proceed, I know. Say "Why not?" and go for it. I still have a few days to chicken out. Let's hope I don't!

Massaging the Rooster

Bali

Now that we've joined our tour group, we are spending more time than we like on a bus. As we drive around the island, our guide, Supy, gives a running commentary about all things Bali. Some of the things he's told us sound a little strange. We've checked a few of his facts using Lonely Planet, our only available resource, and what he says pretty much checks out.

Supy told us quite a bit about local ceremonies and customs, including the tooth-filing ceremony. This is a coming-of-age rite where the local priest files off the points of a kid's canine teeth. This happens when girls are about 11 or 12, and for boys about the time their voices change. Why? Those pointy teeth look evil, like a wild animal or demon.

Men here have great interest in gambling on cock fights. Supy said that men have real affection for their roosters, and that they "massage their rooster" three times a day. Hmmmmmm... Massage the rooster= choke the chicken? I didn't feel that I knew him well enough to ask, so I can't say for sure, but it sounds pretty suspicious, you have to admit.

On our ride today to the north of Bali, Supy bought a durian fruit for us to try. The durian is supposedly a metaphor for Asia, stinky on the outside, but still sweet inside. I can vouch for the stink. Unfortunately, it tastes exactly like it smells.

That said, we've done some interesting things. We had an opportunity to make our own batik fabric. It was a humbling experience. Our best efforts put us in the "slow" group. The women who do this for a living are incredible, but, alas, we are not. We also visited a fine art batik place where the fabrics should be framed, they are simply amazing. We chose not to spend our money there since the fabrics were way out of our league. We did go on a batik-buying frenzy at the Denpasar discount fabric shops. Stuff there is about $2.25 a meter. At home, comparable fabric is close to $10.00 a yard. Exhausting!!! Exciting!!!!!

The tour has made a few stops that bored us silly. High-end silver jewelry and pearls are beautiful, but we weren't interested. We're hoping that there aren't too many more stops like those. We've been with the group for a few days. So far, we haven't gotten into trouble because Gail's friend John gave her a fine bit of advice, "Be a sheep" when on a tour. Baaaaaaa. It works. We're not the troublemakers.

We are staying at beautiful, high-end resorts. Because of that, we have not been around the "real" Bali quite so much. Tomorrow we head to Ubud, the cultural center of the country. Although we'll still be staying on plush ground, there will be a lot of opportunities to spend time walking around town and doing things on our own. I'll fill you in on what we find. Can't wait!