Ok, here’s the scoop, I’m a bad tourist. I’m just lazy. All
I ever want to do is sit in the coffee shops in the most central part of
wherever I am. I want to read, maybe write, people watch and sleep. I want to
think about all the things I could do…and then I probably won’t do them.
I did it though! I did something! (I know, I climbed a
volcano before and I have done a few other things but just go with it) I did
it! I signed up for a trip with the school to see the annual festival of giant
kites (barriletes gigantes) in Sumpango, a nearby village.
They aren’t kidding. The kites are GIANT. Some of them can
measure up to 20 meters in diameter…that’s like 65.6 feet…that’s like 11.5 of
me. ELEVEN Saras! (Don't worry, the biggest one's don't actually fly) The people spend months constructing these monstrous
creations of ‘papel de China’ and cane and string. They are every color
imaginable and more, and each barrilete has a message. Many this year followed
the theme of the Mayan calendar and the approaching end of era. (Speaking of
which, this little country is going to be a crazy place around the middle of
December.)
Anyway, I got myself up on Thursday morning. I ate breakfast
with the family and other guests in the house and I ventured out to wait for
the bus to come. I always hate that part, the part where you are sitting there
thinking about how lazy you could be, but instead you are committed to this
plan you have made. I had already paid though, so I stuck it out. I bought a
coffee and before I knew it I was stepping off the bus into the overflowing municipalidad
de Sumpango, Sacatepéquez. People, fried food, people, colors, people, artisan
crafts for sale in every direction, and above all, more people. Well, actually,
I guess the ‘above all’ part should be reserved for the barriletes that stood
towering impressively, watching over it all.
The guide explained that this was a day of celebration for
the dead. We visited the cemetery painted, like the kites, in any and every
color. The people leave flowers and food and drinks for their lost ones and
they spend the day flying kites (much much more reasonably sized kites) over
their graves. There is a belief that the kites connect the heavens to the earth
and for this day the spirits can touch the earth through the kites. It’s
actually pretty beautiful when you think about it.
Eventually some of the bigger kites did fly. But those were
only about 1.5 of me as opposed to 11. That’s way more reasonable. If a giant
flying creation is going to come crashing down on you, it’s really better if it’s
closer to your own size. Don’t worry, I ran and successfully evaded harm, but
not without tripping on a kind older gentleman on crutches. I don’t think that
kite won. (The competition judges design and time the creation is able to stay
in the air.)
All in all the day wasn’t a terribly spiritual day for me,
but it did make me appreciate the variety and creativity of cultural
celebration. I jokingly said at one point (in Spanish might I add) that the dead
here are certainly lucky. We seem to try as hard as we can to forget them in
the states (not always, I know, but we don’t dedicate a whole day or two to
them either.)
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