Alfombras

Thursday evening at five PM, sixty to seventy people gathered at one of the streets alongside the central park to begin the creation of the Semana Santa alfombras (carpets). The first procedure was to take all of the bags of uncolored sawdust that were distributed along the block and empty them on top of the cobblestone.
After we emptied the bags, people took rakes and brooms to the sawdust to spread it out. Next, we took long boards to use as screeds (similar to spreading out concrete) to level out the sawdust, making several passes, pulling the boards over the sawdust to get out any humps and swales. After the sawdust was fairly level, we placed cardboard on the sawdust and "danced" on it to tamp the sawdust down. Each person used two pieces of cardboard,  placing one in front of the other to travel the full length of the street, pressing the sawdust down. After this was done, string lines were placed to ensure the proper spacing of the alfombras, then out came the sawdust that I helped color last week. We found out when it was time to place the image on the flattened sawdust that we teachers from Escuela Mayatan would have our own alfombra.

Each alfombra had a square center and an outer border with one color used for the center and another for the border. Each alfombra had its own image, and ours was Jesus portrayed as a Sheppard with His sheep. We had different colors of sawdust to choose from for Jesus' ropa (clothes), and we were all barefoot as we had to be careful on the sawdust. As a result, we all went home with colored feet and hands. We were also allowed to create a design for decorating the border. Many onlookers were lining the street all through the night along with the occasional stray dog prancing unaware across the length of the alfombras. The damage was very minimal until someone would shew the dog and it bolted away only to do more damage. As we were getting close to finishing the alfombra we let some "stray" kids help with the finishing touches and they were very excited. Our alfombra was finally finished and it only took seven hours. We took a break, walked over to a small pickup truck and grabbed some empanadas for a midnight snack. Amy was tired and went home to be, but I decided to stay for a spell to guard our alfombra and help with the cleanup. After about another hour I turned down a cup of coffee with rum and stumbled home on tired piernas (legs) and the next morning I learned that some people stayed all night to guard the alfombras and evidently were nipping at the rum I turned down.

On Good Friday morning we arrived in central park at nine to join the procession of the Stations of the Cross. As always, events very seldom start on time here, you might be told nine AM and nothing will happen until one or two hours later. Or you won’t get the necessary details you need to be in the right place at the right time, this time it was only about forty five minutes. Finally the church doors opened and out came the priest with people carrying a platform with a statue of Jesus carrying the cross. Jesus was about two thirds the size of a real adult with a wig for hair. Other places in Central America have real life reenactments, which was done last year here in Copan. Behind Jesus were statues of two women and a man, presumably the people who helped Him on His walk. The statues of the two women were half the size of Jesus and the man was a bit taller than the two women, and they also had wigs on. The wigs on the women were very long full wigs that looked as if they had been permed. I have to admit it was a bit freaky When the procession reached the fourth station, another small procession came down the hill from the opposite direction. Behold it was a statue of Mother Mary coming to reenact the meeting between her and Jesus. When Mary arrived, she leaned over and kissed Jesus and then  joined the procession. The procession paused for a time for prayers at each station. It was hot outside and one lady who looked like she was in her sixties passed out in the street. She was carried to the side where people started flicking water on her with their fingers until the medics took over. She was ok. We reached the last station at the satellite church at the top of the hill three hours later where they stored the statues until the next procession later that night. By this time we were exhausted and ready for a nap.

During the procession of the Stations of the Cross, Amy saw one of her students and he told her that, “tonight is really cool because He comes out in a coffin”, and sure enough.

We were told that the Friday night procession would commence at seven PM, and it did but from the small church up on the hill. We arrived downtown at 6:30PM and sat down beside our alfombra and waited under intermittent showers with crowds who would come and go, and yes the random stray dog pawing its signature across the alfombras. Just when some of our group was getting impatient, there, there was a glimpse of the parade .It’s coming, they will be here soon. Another half hour later at ten PM from around the corner appeared the procession with Jesus in a coffin. The procession paused at the one end of the alfombras for a prayer and then proceeded over the alfombras. As they walked down the length of the alfombras with music songs and prayers emitting from a bull horn, they paused frequently for prayers as children began filing in behind them to finally get the chance to play on the colored and trampled sawdust. Behind the procession the images became a swirling mix of color that was just as beautiful as the images before and as the procession entered the church as it started to rain.

Saturday was a day of rest. We were invited to our Spanish teacher Nellies’ property for lunch and visiting. Oh, and a good opportunity to practice our Spanish. We sat outside under a large covered area and enjoyed soup and grilled chicken. There were three couples from Escuela Mayatan who attended. After our meal and some good conversation we were just getting ready to go across the street to the river when it started to rain so we opted to sit down for a few games of uno. As the rain began it came down harder and harder. When it rains here it rains . I looked at everyone and said, “Now I know where all the stray cats and dogs come from.” The rain lasted for a while so we just enjoyed our time with Nellie’s family. We strolled around and looked at the different fruit trees, plants and herbs they have growing. Nellie pulled up some basil and mint plants for us to take home to plant .She had an oregano plant growing that looked like a small tree, and very aromatic. Nellies brother in law is building a beautiful house next door so they took us to see it. They have a finish carpenter working full time on site milling all of the finish work and building doors, cabinetry, windows, furniture etc. I noted some good ideas for furniture. It was a very nice afternoon, and before we left Nellie told us we were welcome to go there any time to sit and study our Spanish and do our homework. We will have to consider that as it is a very nice setting.

Sunday morning we asked what time Easter service started. We were told it started at ten AM. We walked down to the church at ten and the doors were closed but there were people sitting outside in there nice cloths looking as if they were waiting for the service. We sat and waited a few minutes and saw some friends who were waiting also so we walked over to talk with them about the possibility of the service not happening for a while. We decided that we did not feel like waiting around all morning so we went home, giving up on Easter Mass. After I changed into cooler clothing I strolled to the market for some fruits and veggies and other household items. As I was walking back home through the park I spotted a procession coming down the hill carrying a three foot tall statue of Jesus with outstretched arms, this time with no wig They turned to the right at the corner of the street so I knew I had time to get back home to tell Amy. I began jogging with my bags in hand. I hurried to opened, the gate and ran down the porch to our door. Entering the apartment I yelled, “Amy, c-mon, hurry we have to go, Jesus has risen,” the procession is coming to the church.” We hurried out the door and closed it behind us not realizing I didn’t have my keys until I went to lock the gate.” Oh well, we’ll have to deal with it when we get back”. When we arrived downtown we only had to wait about ten minutes before the outstretched arms of the tiny Jesus appeared around the corner. The procession being led by a police truck was moving at a steady pace with triumphant music and prayers coming forth from the bullhorn. Reaching the church, the procession disappeared inside. Thus the culmination of Semana Santa was finally at hand. We strolled back home feeling satisfied that we didn’t miss any of the events. We approached our door wondering how we were going to get inside, knowing full well that our landlord most likely didn’t have a spare key when Amy decided to put her shoulder to the door. Giving the knob a turn and thrusting her wait into the door, the door flew open. With her mouth open, she began to laugh with a look of disbelief. Miracles do happen.

Tamales and Church

Tamales and Church

Since we are heading toward Easter weekend and have some time during the week-long holiday, we decided it would be nice to make tamales. Dry corn flour is available at the store, but I wanted to get the fresh ground stuff since it is readily available here. The mother of one of the teacher’s has an electric grinder and has access to getting the properly prepared corn. The corn that is used is the larger kernel corn like what is used for hominy. It is cooked in water and lye for about two days which causes the skin on the kernels to come off. After cooking, the corn is soaked in water and rinsed for a period of time and finally is ready to be ground. We acquired the masa, cooked and shredded a chicken and put it in a red chili sauce made from dried red chilis we bought at the market and found ourselves with enough ingredients for sixty tamales. We also made some containing roasted peppers and cheese. Hondurans use green banana leaves to wrap their tamales, but we made ours in the Mexican style by wrapping the masa and filling with corn husks. Hondurans do use corn husks for some “tamales,” but these are called churros when they are made with beans and chuchitos when they are made with meat. Chucho is another name for perro which is a dog, so a chuchito is a puppy, making these types of tamales “puppies.” If you ask for a tamale when chuchitos are being served, the Hondurans will look at you and say, “We don’t have any tamales.”

As we noted in our blog, we were planning on going to church last Sunday. Our landlord and family go to the Catholic Church and since we are helping with the alfombras sponsored by the Catholic church, we thought that would be a good place to go. I asked Amy the night before if we should ask them what time the service starts. Amy said no and that it started at around eight thirty. Sunday morning we headed to downtown and saw some people milling around outside the church. The doors were open with no-one inside so we sat down on the low wall in front. We waited for twenty minutes or so before Amy decided to ask a lady, who looked as if she was waiting also, what time the service started. The lady told us that there was a procession coming and when they arrived the service would begin. We sat and waited for another twenty minutes when a young man carrying a white cloth came out from inside the church. He was heading in the same direction that the lady had pointed, so we decided to do the sneaky and follow him. Maybe he was going to find the procession. I eventually caught up with him and asked him if he was going to join the procession, and indeed he was. As we approached the top of the hill we saw a large crowd of people standing in front and along the sidewalks of a small satellite building of the larger church downtown. The large crowd milling around visiting in the street stared at us when we walked by seeing that we were the only gringos around. We decided to sit on the curb and wait for the procession to begin. We sat for fifteen minutes or so and decided since we didn’t attend the church we ought not join the procession, so we agreed to walk to the market for some items we needed and give the procession time to proceed.

We spent about a half hour at the market then walked home to have a snack and I would periodically walk the block and a half to see if the procession was coming. After about fifteen minutes I ventured out on my small journey for an inspection and when I arrived at the corner I noticed a group of people crowding the entry and spilling out into the front yard of the church. I asked a man sitting on the corner of the sidewalk if the procession had arrived and he confirmed that it had. I turned around and returned home. Walking in the door I told Amy “ Well, we missed the procession.” “We missed it? You’ve got to be kidding?” she replied. After all of that waiting, in the blink of an eye we had missed it. We thought about going up to the church but there was no way of getting inside to hear the service. Maybe on Easter.

Seder

Max and David, two teachers at school, are both of Jewish descent. Tuesday night, Max and Lori invited us all over for a Seder, the celebration in honor of Passover and the exodus of the Jews out of Egypt. Nineteen of us sat at the table set with wine and unleavened matza bread to begin the ceremony. Max had printed the instructions and prayers so all of us could follow along and participate in the recital. It was very interesting to learn about the history in a different light from a different culture, for example the meaning of the unleavened bread. What was the symbolism behind it? It turns out that there is a very simple explanation. When the Jews fled Egypt, there wasn’t time to allow the bread to rise because they had to leave so quickly. I then asked what the reason is behind the unleavened bread or wafers in Christianity. One person said that it represents the body of Christ, which I knew, but why unleavened? Then the resounding voices of the multitude proclaimed. At the Last Supper, Jesus and His disciples were celebrating Passover. Ahh, it all makes sense now. I don’t remember learning that in bible school. I always thought that the last supper was wholly a Christian tradition. It is amazing what you can glean by experiencing a larger community of customs. Then began the delicious meal, as authentic as you can get in Honduras. It was prepared by Max, Lori, David and Sarah and included authentic Mexican-Jewish tamales prepared by the Rangels,. We ate until our bellies were full, washed it down with a bit of wine (we drank four glasses of wine as part of the ceremony) and sat down to a nice discussion about religion over dessert. We learned much from Max about the topic of the Gaza strip conflict and its causes. Max has some very good insight on the subject and presents it in a non-judgmental manner. He is sympathetic to the struggle of both sides. We said our thank yous and went home for a good night sleep.

Thursday afternoon we will be helping with the construction of the sawdust alfombras (carpets). We will begin at five p.m. and work through the night to finish them for the next morning. I will have more to share later. We have also been invited by our Spanish teacher Nellie to join their gathering at the river on Saturday for food and activities. It appears that all of the festivities will commence on Friday. There's no school on Monday to culminate our holiday week, so we don't know if we'll be celebrating until Monday or if that is a day of rest after all of the Semana Santa activities. More to come.

Dona Lucas

4/20/11 - Alex Rangel

No, Dona Lucas is not another bird. Last Thursday after school, Amy, I, two other teachers, Lo and Tiffany, and Tiffany’s father Tom who was visiting from the states, started the one hour uphill climb to Llanatios, (pronounced Yanatios). Llanatios is an Aldea (village) up in the mountains behind the school. Following the dirt road, we passed through pine forests mixed with other typical tropical trees and plants, enjoying occasional vistas of the valley and the town of Copan below. Llanatios is a quaint little village nestled within the swales and hills of the mountain top. Dona, (similar to Senora but denotes a higher elevation of respect) Lucas and her esposo (husband) Napolean live on a hillside where they tend to their daily living activities.They are sixtyish and have a number of grandchildren, one of which is a student of Amy’s. It is evident that she loves them very much.The two of them are almost completely self sustaining on their land where they grow their own crops. Among the crops are bananas, pina (pineapple), cana de azucar (sugarcane), café (coffee), maize (corn), frijoles (beans), calabaca (squash), pollos (chickens), a fruit that is similar to passion fruit, mango, papaya, aguacate (avocado), and other things we don’t know. 

Dona Lucas is also known for her traditional pottery making. Not only does she make the pottery but she and Napolean mine the clay from a location near their home. If you want to have a lesson in pottery making, all you have to do is call to make a date and she will be waiting for you with smiles and outstreached arms. After your lesson, she will keep your piece, fire it for you and you can pick it up at a later date. Then the real treat comes after with the nice meal that she has prepared for you. The pottery lessons and meal are just 100 Lempiras, the equivalent of $5. Or you can travel up the hill like we did Thursday evening for just a meal and a visit for 50 lempiras. 

We arrived to see Dona standing under her porch waiting to greet us. The overhang of the porch at the outside edge is about five foot nine inches tall and even I have to duck to walk under the even lower support beam. Amy’s eyeballs are even with the end of the overhang. The house is made of adobe and consists of a couple of small rooms for living space and a kitchen that is a third the size of the rest of the house. Oh yes, and an outhouse. Her cooking areas, also made of adobe, are a wood fired oven with a place on top to burn wood for heating pots. On the other end is a permanently set clay skillet with a cubby for the fire below it. There is no ceiling in the house, only blackened open rafters with a tile roof. There is no chimney for the wood fire cooking, so it can get very smokey inside at times. We entered the kitchen to find a big pot of black beans simmering and some fresh corn masa that had been ground in her handcranked meat grinder.

Dona asked Lo if she would toast some squash seeds, so Lo put the seeds on the clay skillet and began stirring and roasting. After the seeds were nice and toasted, she put them in the meat grinder and ground them to a medium grind. Dona then took the corn masa and began grinding it by hand on her stone grinding pad that her mother bought fifty years ago. Dona does this to grind the corn masa a bit more fine. She places a big ball of masa on the back end of the grinding pad from which she pulls small amounts forward with the grinding stone. She makes about ten quick passes and then whisks it up with her hand to form it into a ball. She would then hand it to one of us to pat it out with our hands into a tortilla. After attempting to shape it into a nice spherical shape that ended up looking more like one of the continents, we threw the uncooked tortilla on the skillet for its one minute per side cooking time. After we had a nice stack of fresh tortillas, we sat down to eat. Dona served us each a big bowl of black beans and placed the bowl of toasted and ground squash seeds on the table. What are the squash seeds for? I asked. Sprinkle them on the beans was the reply. I did as I was told and what a treat. It was a new experience in culinary magic. Seconds? Of course. We ate until we were full and then were served Dona’s coffee grown on her plants, roasted on her skillet and sweetened from the residual sugar left from the pressing of the sugar cane for the jugo de cana (juice of the cane). This sugar is very brown, but is nothing like the brown sugar we know, and is 100% non-processed. We buy this in cakes at the market for our household sweetening. Last but not least, Napolean, brought us each a fruit from a vine outside the front door to have for dessert. Full and happy after our meal and visit, we said our goodbyes and started our trek back down the mountain, stopping at a view point to revel at the red orange ball of a setting sun in the western sky as it illuminated the red clay banks on the sides of the dirt road. A perfect ending to a perfect afternoon.

The Life and Times of Doῆa Ramona Paloma

By Amy Rangel

For the past couple of months, Alex has been marveling at the birds that have been visiting the area and especially enjoying the ones that he can watch right off of our porch. We’re on the 2^nd level, so we have a bird’s eye view of the birds. We’ve been visited by pairs of green parrots, a woodpecker, and an endless supply of more common small blackbirds coming to steal the dog food. The most astonishing visit was when we spotted 2 doves, who we named Seῆor and Seῆora Paloma, that seemed to be moving in.

While we were on vacation in El Salvador, Seῆor and Seῆora Paloma had selected their new home site in the avocado tree growing up the corner post of our deck, roughly 4 feet from the railing. We watched as Seῆora Paloma built her nest out of twigs carefully selected by the Seῆor from nearby roofs and trees. He’d pick one up and seem to analyze whether it would be acceptable to the Seῆora, then would either accept it or look for a better one. Soon, Seῆora Paloma was settled in on her nest for the long haul while Seῆor Paloma, whose job was apparently complete, disappeared, never to be seen by us again. Just like a man – sigh.

We kept a close eye on Doῆa Paloma (who earned an upgrade in title out of respect for her diligent attention as a single mother). We tried to spy some eggs – was there one, maybe two? It was difficult to ascertain the number of eggs as Doῆa Paloma never left her nest, but merely turned around every once in a while, especially if she felt the need to keep an eye on the two of us. We were concerned about her because she was so close to the porch. We had ample opportunities to reach over the railing and grab her out of the nest while we were out hanging laundry on the clothesline we strung 4 feet above the porch railing. How safe was she really in that avocado tree, especially when she closed her eyes each night for some shut-eye once the sun went down?

Happily convinced that we would one day see little birds in the nest, we pointed Doῆa Paloma out to the girls downstairs. “You need to give her a better name,” admonished Doῆa Lolita, the matriarch of the household, “Something pretty, like Chanel (the name of the dog, named after Coco Chanel).” “Okay,” I said to indicate that I would do my best. I wasn’t too excited as I really like the ring of Doῆa Paloma and have enjoyed calling her by name when I passed by to see her. Later, when relating the story to Hallie, she suggested Ramona (her class is currently reading “The Mouse and the Motorcycle,” so Beverly Cleary might be on her mind). Doῆa Ramona Paloma had the appropriate ring to it, so at last the bird had a full name, although by Honduran standards, she really should have had at least two other names in her repetoire.

The next morning, the inevitable happened. Alex did his now daily routine before we left for school and walked to the end of the porch to check on Doῆa Ramona Paloma. The nest was upturned and she and her eggs were gone. A few stray feathers still wafted around the porch floor. What could have happened?!

We suspect the cats. We have numerous stray cats that wander past our door to access neighboring rooftops and, at times, pee on Alex’s shoes should he forget to put them away for the night. One even had 2 kittens in the peak of the roof of the house just below us, quickly losing one to Chanel who appeared to think it was her new, mobile stuffed toy that was meant to be gnawed and shaken. Did mama cat brave the short jump from the porch to the branch holding Doῆa Paloma and her nest? Or was it one of the bigger cats? Why didn’t we hear anything? Are we (and Doῆa Paloma) such heavy sleepers that we couldn’t hear the cat on the prowl? We broke the sad news to Hallie and the ladies downstairs, then headed off to school, briefly mourning our loss, but not feeling too sad as that is the way of nature (and Chanel has already gotten revenge on the cats).

The strange part of this story came later that morning. I had to visit Gilda, our landlady, for some school related item. “Don’t worry about the paloma,” she consoled me, “Lolita called to ask me to tell you that Doῆa Paloma has moved her nest. She saw her in another tree in the yard.” “Oh, okay,” I said, baffled, “Muchas gracias.” Doῆa Paloma rebuilt her nest someplace else and then moved her eggs, mysteriously leaving small feathers on the porch in the process? Even more mysterious is that we have not seen any doves around the yard since the fateful day of the destruction of Doῆa Paloma’s nest. Hmmm… Hallie, Alex and I all agree that they made up this story so that we wouldn’t be sad at the demise of Doῆa Paloma and her egglings.

As a way of explanation for this unusual story, I offer the book I am currently reading, “Foreign to Familiar” by Sarah A. Lanier. In it, she explains the difference between hot- and cold-climate cultures. “Hot-climate cultures are relationship based” and “communication must create a ‘feel-good’ atmosphere,” she states. In “cold-climate cultures,” on the other hand, “communication must provide accurate information.” Hallie, Alex and I, being from a cold-climate culture, were coldly addressing the facts and looking for the accurate answers to the disappearance of Doῆa Paloma. The ladies downstairs, however, were just trying to make us feel better.

Continuacion de Semana Santa

Continuacion de Semana Santa

Saturday, April 16, 2011

This morning, I got my feet moving and headed for the market to get the things we need to make tamales on Monday. It was a typical morning in Copan Ruinas as I walked through the central park. People sitting and visiting, kids running around and the blaring presence of salsa music coming from large speakers in front of one of the pulperias (mini markets). I like salsa music, so that’s ok by me. I walked into the market and headed to my favorite fruit and veggie stand run by Rosa. Rosa is in her sixties, maybe seventies. She took a liking to me when once, I bought a big bunch of bananas from her and she was surprised that I was buying so many. I told her that I eat bananas every morning with my corn flakes. She smiled and grabbed and squeezed my upper arm and said, “Ah, por las chicas” (for the girls). Ever since, she gives me a little something extra. This morning I bought bananas and some veggies. She counted up the total and said, “Setenta y quatro” (seventy and four Lempiras, which amounts to about $3.50). Her daughter wanted to know if I wanted a small bag of green beans, so I accepted. I asked Rosa what the new total was and said, “Ochenta….” “Oh no, too much,” she said. She looked in the bag and added everything up again, looked up at me and said, “Setenta y quatro”. I was going to try to tell her it was the same as she told me before, but my Spanish is not quite good enough. I gave her seventy five, saying “Esta bien” (it’s good). She then tried to give me a one back but I told her no. She gave me a little frown and hurried over to the mangos, grabbing one and putting it in my bag. I thanked her as she patted my arm and away I went.

(Lolita from downstairs just brought us up some freshly made homemade sopa de res (beef soup). Today is our lucky day for good food.)

Wednesday after school, I went out and helped a couple guys with dyeing some of the sawdust for the carpets. I was wrong when I said they use food coloring. They use powdered dye that undoubtedly has some toxic elements, so it surprised me to see one guy had his arms dyed up to his elbows. There is still a lot of sawdust to be dyed before next Thursday but all of the ten images are cut out and ready to go. We have decided that we will go to church with our landlord and her family tomorrow morning for Palm Sunday.

Yesterday was the big “Cultural Day “ at school. The champas were all finished and decked out. Most of the girls were dressed in colorful traditional dresses. Some boys at least wore cowboy hats. Each grade gave a small performance of some kind that included singing and/or dancing. The finale was great. Some students from the primary grades dressed in traditional garb of the different indigenous tribes: Los Mayas, Los Lencas, Los Tolupanes, Los Garifunas, Los Chorti, Los Tawahkas, and Los Pech. The costumes were amazing. Some materials used for the costumes were corn husks, feathers, leather, dried beans and corn, and colorfully painted symbols. After all of the festivities were over we got to sample some traditional foods. Each champa had food for to offer that included soups, tamales ,chuchos (similar to a tamale) cornbread made from freshly ground corn, yucca patties, black beans wrapped in plantain patty, fish, and I can’t remember it all. For drinks, they served horchata, a rice milk and cinnamon drink, and chichu, partially fermented tamarind fruit juice (I’m not certain something with a touch of a kick to it would be served by and to students in a US school). What a feast! A full week of champa building, missed classes, and machete wielding kids, and it’s all over in a few hours. Now the kids will be “ready” to get back to the grind when we return in eleven days. Ha. One thing we can count on is there won’t be any more machete wielding at school until next year. One kid was whacking away with a machete half his size. Crazy! I got caught up in all of the machete wielding and went out and bought myself one. It cost me 55 Lempiras, the equivalent of $2.50. Now we can take advantage of the abundance of coconuts here at our place. I had to spend a little time sharpening the thing and now I have to get used to whacking on coconuts with it. This afternoon at four, we will go and pick up the freshly ground corn masa that we ordered for the tamales. As for the rest of the time today, we have decided to just take it easy and relax. Maybe I will watch a little bull fighting on TV at two o’clock. Amy won’t watch it with me. I can’t figure out why. We will keep you updated on the Semana Santa happenings as the week progresses. Ciao for now!