second saturday - another novel...

The day started out with leftover French toast and pancakes. I walked to school and used the internet for several hours and contemplate my day. Went home for lunch … churrizos and the carrot, pea, and potato mixture that’s hot, but sweet, tortillas, and lemonade. I’ve decided I’m not a big fan of the churrizo. It tasted good and all, but there was a lot of unedible things inside that I had to spit out. I don’t think all churrizo is small like these were, but they were cute in size. Probably 1.5 inches long and about an inch round. Two were black and two were more brown and normal looking.

The family was coming over and happened to show up right when I was finishing, so I hurried into my room to give them privacy. I decided to walk, slowly, down one street, from my neighborhood to the opposite end, looking at everything, taking pictures, totally familiarizing myself with it. This street would be 1 avenida norte/sur.

And so I headed out with my camera, water, and rain jacket. But when I got outside the house, I was reminded that I hadn’t been up our street, past our house, yet. And so I walked in a new direction. The street curves to the left a little ways up and goes up a hill, all with houses and cars lined on either side. And at the top of the hill is a little playground with a fountain. There are lots of fountains in this city, but not a lot that have water running in them. This one was no exception. But there was a little slide and a swing set for kids to play on. And for me, it was a pleasant surprise. Nestled in amongst tons of houses, it wouldn’t be the most peaceful place to hang out, but I was glad to see some kind of nature nearby.

I also decided to walk up another street in my neighborhood a little ways to see what was beyond where I always turn. Found a couple more tiny stores to buy junk food from, more houses, more dogs eating plastic, a cat (the one and only thus far), and some more ruins hidden behind lots of trees. The road curves to the right to take you to more houses, but I thought it best not to venture too far away from “civilization”.

I’m still trying to figure out what this one place is supposed to be. It’s so large, fenced off, concrete in the middle, a beautiful entry way, guards, and men working in holes and jackhammering in the concrete, all day, every day. Yet there is no sign to say what it is. I can’t ask anyone because I won’t understand what they tell me, so I just keep eyeing it, hoping God will just tell me one day.

And thus, my venture of street one begins. Overall, I took about 50 pictures of this one street. Most of them were of doors, but still. I looked more intently inside doors. And at the end of this street is Iglesia de San Francisco. Inside this church is the tomb of Hermano Pedro. I don’t know who he is, but apparently he is pretty important.

But this church, not only is it the site of Pedro, but it’s also an actual church with services and mass and confessions. All things Catholic. And you can go in to just look around. And so I did. And sat down to listen. Watch. Consume. It’s a very large church. And very beautiful. The pews had the kneeling bars. There were candles you could light for your loved ones. There was lots of gold. And lots of paintings of Jesus, Mary, etc. Lots of statues. The front of the church was rather intimidating with such a large chair for the priest and other chairs for elders or someone. Off to the right was another section for prayer. In front of the little fence was a book that said, “Antes Jesus’Sanctification.” I don’t really know what that means as far as Catholicism goes, but it seemed important. And to the left was Pedro’s tomb. You can see it from inside the church, or you can go around the side of the church to actually go inside the room. Viewing it from inside the church on the other side of the wall was just fine for me.

Many people came in to just pray. They would enter the back of the church, kneel and do the hand movement across their chest, then go sit down in a pew. This act was done really fast, almost as if they didn’t want anyone to notice but knew it was necessary. I’m sure it’s just because they’ve been doing it at least once a week for their entire lives and have it down pat, but still. Their prayers weren’t very long. They’d sit in the pew, kneel down onto the bar, pray for a couple of minutes, and then get up. Some of them would leave. Some would go over to the candles and light one. And others would go to the other praying section and do the same thing. and then some would go over and see Pedro before they left.

All of this ritual was interesting to me. I guess because I know nothing about Catholicism and don’t participate in anything similar.

I was quiet, didn’t take pictures, tried to be respectful of the praying people, and took my time looking at everything. But others would come in and talk amongst themselves. Monks were cleaning columns. Other men were going in and out of doors. I don’t know, but if I were there trying to pray, I would be highly distracted by all this, and maybe even irritated at tourists for coming to my church to gawk.

There was another section you can enter or leave the church, another wing, sort of. This area had very little traffic, so I stood near the door and took a couple of pictures, just so show you a little taste of the grandeur of this building.

Outside are vendors selling anything from keychains to purses to food. Lots of activity in this place. I found a place to sit down and watch. This little boy with his shoe shine box goes over to a lady that works there selling stuff and talks to her for a minute. Then she hands him her shoes and he promptly goes to work. This kid couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. But already, he knew what it mean to work hard. A minute later an older boy came over to him, sat down on his shoe shine box, and the smaller boy began to talk. Don’t know if they were brothers, but I imagine so. The younger boy talked the entire time he shined those shoes. And the other old one never said a word, he just put his hand in each shoe on top of the box so the boy could shine them easier and faster. This kid had such a sweet smile and from time to time would look over at me to see if I was still watching him. And every time he would smile really big.

and then, out of the church comes the whitest, most American family. For a while I was thinking I was the whitest person on this block, but no, actually, there are at least 4 more whiter and more American and more touristy than me. They had on their shorts, tennis shoes, rain jackets, and sunscreen. They carried their cameras with pride. They were here to visit and so they did.

When the kid had finished shining the ladies shoes, he gave them back to her with pride. They discussed the price and finally agreed on what looked to be about Q3. This kid was thrilled. Almost like that was the biggest sale of the day. His “brother” tried to drum up some business from passersby, but had no success. The boys walked out of sight. After a few more minutes, I decided it was time for me to leave. As I was walking out, I passed the little one sitting on the sidewalk counting his money. He had two little fistfuls of coins. It probably only amounted to 8 or 10 Quetzales, at the most. But I imagine that will help his family out quite a bit. And besides, the day wasn’t over yet.

And so my journey on the opposite side of the street began. I made a couple of side trips up one or two other streets, just because I saw some interesting things or doors from afar and wanted a closer look. I also went inside the Dominos to investigate the menu more thoroughly. Turns out a medium cheese pizza costs Q75, Hawaiian costs Q95. So the sign in their doorway that advertises a pizza for Q110 is for a super large. Much more normal and accepting.

I made my way up to the park around the corner from my school and sat down. The clouds were amazing and moved very fast. I tried to get a video of it, but you couldn’t see it through the camera. It was strange. But there, again, was a colorful cloud, one with greens and pinks and blues mixed into a little hole of white. Just like the one we’d seen on our way to Pacaya the other day. It was getting darker, so I continued walking home. But when I got to the section of that road where I turn right, I looked back and noticed the sky was orange. I just love sunsets. I watched long enough that the colors disappeared and then went home.

I uploaded all my pictures to my computer, resized them, and got them ready to post online. Then it was time for dinner. Leftover pieces of pork with the white/brown bean gravy and leftover pasta with little pieces of ham and chopped celery and onions (but not as many as the other day). And little slices of white bread. Probably ¾ of the size of a normal slice. Very cute. I ate with Adolfo and we talked.