Santiago y La Primer Iglesia Bautista

July 24, 2010, Saturday
The San Pedro girls (Brittany, Menan, Alisha, me) visited Santiago this morning, meeting up with the Santiago girls (Angela, Chelsea), and later joined by two EMU nursing graduates (Steph, Libby) who were down from the City for the weekend. Once again, we got stiffed on the price of a lancha ride (We know full well that it’s Q8, but the tourist price [which applies to us] is Q20), and even though we tried to argue (for like, 10 minutes) we still ended up paying a round-trip of Q30, which is still almost double, though marginally better, I guess. We rode on the top of the boat, and the scenery was gorgeous. It was a rare clear day in Guatemala, and the sky was SO blue.
This weekend was the anniversary celebration for Santiago, so there was a big celebration in the center of the city. It was like Taste of Newton (or for you CC readers, Piotique) and a county fair combined, with a dash of Mardi Gras for pizzazz – Ferris wheels, carousels (powered by hand), arcade games, markets (tourist and local), ice cream vendors, and brightly-dressed indigenous men, women, and children running everywhere in a state of high excitement. It was great. We met Chelsea and Angela at the big Catholic church, and then ate dinner with them at a small “comedor,” where it took an ungodly amount of time to get our food ordered. For dessert, we retraced our steps a bit and had some chocolate layer cake and carrot cake (yes, Dad, I thought of you) at a tiny little restaurant. The other girls decided to walk through the market a bit more, but I decided to go back to the church and creep on people with my camera (can’t resist a good excuse to indulge my inner National Geographic photographer!). So I hung out in the churchyard for quite awhile, taking pictures of the dances, parades, and the general hubbub of it all. There was a dance that dramatized the conquest of Latin America by the Spaniards, danced by a bunch of men and boys who wore masks and gold clothing. Inexplicably, there were also cow masks. A few times, a short parade wound through the square, women holding candles, men playing instruments, and four men at the back carrying an effigy of Saint James (patron saint of the town) on a frame. And periodically, a cannon would go off, telling the whole world “WE’RE THE MOST AWESOME TOWN EVER AND WE’RE HAVING A FREAKIN’ PARTY RIGHT NOW AND DON’T YOU WISH YOU WERE US?!??!!!!!!!!” Magical.
Sarah took me to a church service for youth (15-25) tonight. It was great. We started by singing a few hymns, the louder and more off-key, the better. Bonhoeffer would have turned over in his grave, I’m sure. Then they prayed a bit, sang a bit more, and then the youth pastor (I think?) stood up and delivered a message. It was from Matthew, when Jesus healed the leper. And I could understand it all! Except I had to pay REALLY close attention – if I spaced off for even a second, or a truck went by in the street outside, or something or other occupied my attention, I would lose an entire sentence or important piece of information, and have to start all over again! Afterwards, we all had coffee and “pan dulce” (sweet bread) and talked. Well, THEY talked, anyway. And laughed, and teased each other. I couldn’t understand a word of it, it was all in Tzu’tujil, but it made me miss the camaraderie of my Bethel friends. And the service was so nice – no one was screaming “IN THE NAME OF JEE-ZUS!!!” or casting out demons willy-nilly, no one was falling on the floor in ecstasy, and everyone remained calm and collected for the duration of the service. A nice change, for sure.



July 25, 2010 Sunday
I washed my clothes today and hung them to dry on the upstairs porch. That was fine when I was just living with a pair of old people, but now I have a brother. It’s like, “Hello, brother-who-is-the-same-age-as-me, I’m just going to hang my brightly colored panties on your porch, ok?” Yep. Oh, and it was just Sarah and Domingo and me at the house this Sunday – turns out my dad is a pastor at a church on the coast, 3 hours away, and he and my mom won’t be back until Monday.
We drove to a beach near San Juan for a baptism service today. We ended up sitting like 3’ from the edge of the lake, where the ground was like a sponge. It took a wet backside for me to figure out that sitting on my sandals was a good idea. They sing a LOT here – like 10 songs, no joke. Anyway, once they dunked the three candidates, the service was over, and Sarah was like, “Ok, nos vamos!” And we left. No standing around and talking, no “fellowshipping,” just “let’s go.” It was a bit strange – I’m used to hanging out at church for at least 20 minutes after the service has ended.
I laid in the hammock on the porch (beneath the clothesline containing my brightly-colored panties) and read Dante’s Divine Comedy for a couple of hours. I’m pretty sure that I don’t agree with that guy’s theology AT ALL, but it’s an interesting historical read, for sure. In the afternoon, Alisha and I kayaked across a section of the lake, maybe a mile both ways, I’m not sure. It was really gorgeous – a few clouds, the lake surrounded by mountains and volcanoes, scenery one always sees in magazines, but never actually visits. Well guess WHAT?! I’m visiting it.
The standard church service was at night. Again, lots of singing, lots of prayer, but no shouting or demons. The other churches in San Pedro say that the Baptist church is “frio” because they don’t applaud or shout or anything like what the Pentecostals do. I’ll take “frio” over mass hysteria any day. They had several choirs of children, young people, women, and a choir (who made an attempt at four-part!) who sang several more songs. The sermon was over the Lord’s Supper and life after death… I think so, anyway. To be quite honest, I was thinking about how to arrange my dorm room at Bethel.