Close to Life - Impressions from Guatemala (Thanksgiving 2012)

A group of teenagers performed some amazing dance routines on Paseo de la Sexta right across from a bar-restaurant called ‘Saul’. They beautifully worked off of one another; any time one guy was tiring out, another one jumped in, demonstrating a fascinating combination of physical fitness, contortions and an intuition for rhythm. In the beginning they were performing almost in a conversational style – doing bits and pieces, briefly passing verbal cues as to what could be done better or improvised next time around. By the time I had left, walked down the avenue and back up to the same spot, they were more organized performers – this time to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ and the crowd had strengthened. These guys were simply having fun.

I thought art and human possibilities were endless, even in Guatemala City where crime, poverty and slip-shod existence define everyday life. The city center is heavily policed; and armed guards have a ubiquitous presence from ordinary business establishments to public parking areas.

My hotel concierge in the Camino Real district recommended a nearby restaurant called Kacao that served local flavors. While I was there, a man came in and he was peddling shawls of different kinds. He stood near the entrance and offered his stuff to every patron that was leaving; he seemed needy, requested a few times, but always smiled and stopped short of pestering.

I made a day trip to the city of Antigua, a UNESCO world heritage site. Time had stopped at this ancient city, in its cobblestoned streets, in its ruins. It has become somewhat of a tourist trap in recent years, as evident from traffic on the motorway just leading up to Antigua. But signs of a rural and traditional living were unmistakable. Many shops were actually extensions of homes.  Many women would sell products while carrying their infants wrapped up and tucked on their backs like backpacks. And at times they would take a break to nurse them; a moment of vulnerability by urban standards was a way of life to them.

Close to the ruins of an old church was an open market place; I was approached by a vendor hawking beads, jewelry, even flutes. I politely refused to buy, he persisted a little bit, but then he gave me the smile of understanding and switched the subject to what I was there for, and pointed me to touristy areas. So I went over to Casa Santo Domingo, part luxury hotel, part ruins; there was a wedding going on, with wedding guests and tourists almost sharing the same space, while some talented musicians played Bach's Air.

Employees at the Westin Camino Real, Guatemala City were wearing name tags that also said “My passion:”; the young woman at the concierge desk for example, had identified Real Madrid as her passion. One restaurant server's read: “Mi passion: mi familia”.

There was an obviousness in the note; yet its poignance made me long for my own 3 1/2 year old.

Two weeks earlier, I had been visiting Kolkata and saw him for the first time in almost 4 months. It was morning, and he was still sleeping as I went inside the mosquito net and stroked and patted him that eventually woke him up. The bewilderment in his eyes has stayed with me since.

Ruins of El Carmen Church, Antigua, Guatemala

Catedral de San Jose, Antigua, Guatemala

Antigua, Guatemala