Finding the Heart Beat Of Santiago

by Kendelyn Ouellette (United States of America)

Making a local connection Guatemala

While in Guatemala a few years back I learned of the Mayan deity Maximon and the brotherhood that still worships him. Intrigued, I set out to learn about him and it was on this quest that one night I found myself surrounded by Mayan elders dancing with a shaman drinking Gallo into the breaking of a new day. I met LeeAnn through a mutual acquaintance and despite being an American ex-pat she is part of a Mayan brotherhood known as “Cofradias.” The Cofradia is a group of Mayan men and women who act as caretakers for Mayan religious idols and traditions. As a general rule outsiders are not welcome, but I had an in. In order to help me understand Mayan syncretism, LeeAnn invited me to attend a ceremony one evening. Our day began wandering through the labyrinth of Santiago where I got a crash course on the Mayan Cosmovision as we moved in and out of Mayan ceremony houses, each home to a different god. Our last stop before the evening’s festivities was the ceremony house where LeeAnn is a member of the Cofradia. I was welcomed in with cautious eyes knowing the guarded welcome was not unusual. Although Santiago is known for its ceremony houses, there is only one that foreigners are usually welcomed into — and this was not that one. But, I was here as a guest, and I would be allowed to witness. Candles were lit as a shaman knelt in front of the altar. I watched, taking in the movements of the shaman and focusing on the rhythm of the prayers. I sat entranced by his intonation and wrapped in the smoke of the incense. The cadence of the prayers transcended the language barrier and reached out speaking to the most elemental part of me. As the final words of the ceremony were uttered I snapped back to reality and locked eyes with an elder across the room. The moment that our eyes met I felt the tension leave the small space. His eyes softened, his shoulders relaxed. I was welcome. He had been watching my reaction to the ceremony and what he saw in me satisfied him. I was then asked if I wanted to join in the ceremony. With a quick yes I knelt on the floor facing the altar and was immediately surrounded by smoke and the chanting murmur of a prayer. As the prayer faded the energy of the room shifted from warm to familial. Any shyness that may have lingered immediately dissolved. We spent the next hour or so swapping laughter and jokes drinking Gallo and smoking cigarettes. Then, lured by the sound of the marimba throbbing through the streets as we headed towards our final destination. Ducking through one last smoke-filled doorway I immediately felt the curiosity of the entire room. An elder then caught my eye and waved me over to sit alongside him signifying to the rest of the room that I was his guest. Soon offerings of alcohol flowed freely and I began to relax as the music from the marimba punctuated the prayers and incense filled my lungs. I was transported away from Santiago, carried away by the sweltering heat of the ceremony room mixed with the pulsating energy of thousands of years of tradition. The energy surrounding the ceremony began to swell as the clock ticked towards midnight. Then, in a flurry of activity, I was pulled outside along with all the other women and handed a lit yellow candle. I stood alongside a dozen or so women, swaying to the music thudding through the speakers as the marimba played louder and louder, faster and faster. Then, as though a portal to the spirit realm had opened and the ancestors were reaching down from the heavens, in a burst of zeal the men streamed out of the ceremony house carrying the idols from the altar, dancing them into the new day. The sounds of revelry were punctuated by the blast of bottle rockets being set off in the streets and for just a moment I felt myself being transported across the centuries to a time where the Maya ruled Guatemala.