It Rained on Our Parade

Yesterday the Catholic church around the corner from me celebrated the last day of Corpus Cristi (the Body of Christ). As I mentioned before, each church celebrates this event at different times throughout the year. No one we asked could tell us the purpose of this celebration, seeing as how Good Friday, Easter and Pentecost are already over, but it has been a long-standing Catholic tradition in Latin countries. I should do some research on it. Anyway, the house where I live was one of the houses chosen this year to recieve the Body of Christ and the blessing of the priest. It is a great honor here and doesn't happen often. All day Friday, my Papa and some neighbors strung the yellow and white streamers over the top of our street and all day Saturday was spent turning the garage into a sanctuary with an altar. Early Sunday morning, all the neighbors lined the street with fresh pine needles, adorning this path with rose petals, daisy petals and eucalyptus branches. Several houses had this strong smelling insence burning all day, filling the neighborhood and our lungs with billowy smoke. I did not attend mass yesterday, opting to attend an evangelical charismatic church instead, but I did return home at noon to await the Corpus Cristi procession coming down our street. This procession is quite long and includes little children dressed up as angels, all of the altar boys, old faithful widows and people who have paid money to participate. The priest walks amid the procession under a canopy carrying the 'custodia' which holds the 'santisimo', or large-sized communion wafer which represents the literal Body of Christ. The priest's hands can't even touch this sancitfied object, so he wraps the bottom in a blessed white cloth. The priest holds the custodia before his face so that you can't see him, only the host. Anyway, the procession ended up coming down our street at around 1:30 pm. They walked in the middle of the pine needle path (intended to stir up the wonderful fragrances) and turned into our garage where the host was placed in a pocket in a sheet that hung and the priest prayed a blessing over the house. The entire street was packed with people singing and kneeling before the host. White and yellow tissue paper squares fell from my bedroom window as the second oldest daughter poured them over the priest's canopy. It rained on us as we worshipped the Lord together.

Ahhhh, Antigua

This morning I awoke at a quarter to 6 to the sound of fireworks going off in front of the nearby cathedral, La Merced. We are in the time of Corpus Christi and fireworks have been going off at random times ever since I arrived here in Antigua just over a week ago. Every village and subsequent Catholic church celebrates Corpus Christi at a different time of year, but this is Antigua's time. Really, it went off without a bang(save the incredibly loud fireworks)-- though I was fortunate enough to glimpse a few sand paintings in a village on our way to one of the local volcanos. Antigua is surrounded by several volcanos: Fuego, Pacaya, Acatenango and Agua, to name a few. Only Fuego and Pacaya are active, Fuego (Fire) being the most active. I was invited to join a group of other students to hike up Pacaya-- no easy feat, I tell you. We arrived at the base of the volcano at about 9 am. Young kids were there offering to sell us walking sticks (roughly sanded sticks about an inch and a half thick) for 5 quetzales (about 70 cents). Too, there were several men standing by with horses in tow ready to take us lazy ones up the mountain. Two girls from our group opted to take horses for the fun of it. We were told as we began our trek up that the first 200 meters were the hardest. Now, I don't know meters from miles or feet, but what I do know is that after 5 minutes of walking, I wanted to die. Talk about an intense incline! I never do well, anyhow when increasing altitude, but really, being as out of shape as I am... I ended up on a horse after about 10 more minutes of intense pain. This was no easy decision, let me tell you. There are only two times I have ever tried to ride a horse and both times the horses spooked and tried to buck me off. So, I was between a rock and a hard place: either attempt to get up on the horse or keep trying to drag my body up this mountain (that appeared as though it would never even out). I was right. It was a two-hour hike UP. I loved my horse. I chatted up a storm with the guy leading the horse and was able to enjoy the view. After about forty-five minutes or so, we on horses were dropped off and left to trek the rest of the way up (another half hour). Up until this point, the trail had been dirt and leaves. From there on, it was all lava rock. I've never walked on lava before. It is sort of like walking on charcoal briquettes that are really sharp and rough. We slipped and slid a lot and one girl cut herself pretty bad and had to get stitches later that day. Anyhow, all this to say that I got within a hundred feet or so of hot, flowing magma. Others from our group opted to go up the rest of the way and get within a foot of it, but the walk there was almost like scaling a wall of slippery sharp rock and it was really hot. The bottoms of their shoes melted a bit. I was content to stay behind and and just watch it from afar. After a picnic lunch of granola and sandwiches, we walked back down the volcano (this time I went without horse). I am so incredibly glad I went, but here, two days later, I'm walking around Antigua grimacing every time I have to step up or down because my legs hurt so bad.

Yesterday, Sunday, I went with several others to a mega church in Guatemala City (about a 45 minute drive from here) to see what that would be like. It was exactly like an American mega church and I didn't care for it at all. I like the intimacy smaller churches have. Anyway, it's good to have different experiences...

Today, I began my second week of Spanish class. I received a new teacher today (my other teacher had a previous obligation) and I LOVE her. She is a wonderfully passionate Catholic woman who was practically preaching the gospel to me. We got along famously and she is incredibly encouraging. Every time I pronounce something correctly she practically does backflips. Plus, she told me I'll have no problem picking up all of the grammar, etc.

My family here is really great. I am living in a huge house with 10 other students of various ages and all of us have pretty big rooms. Our food portions are small, but Antigua has every kind of food you could possibly want to eat, so my other roomies and I have been gnoshing around. Last night a few of us went to this legendary place called Dona Tonita's to have Dobladas de Queso (sort of like a fresh cheese Hot Pocket), Taquitos de Papas and Atol (sort of like a hot horchata). We were in absolute heaven. Basically this woman sets a little awning out in front of her house in the evenings and just fries up a storm. All of us students laugh about how the constant topic of discussion here is food and we share our favorite finds. However, I did go to an art exhibit yesterday that was amazing and thought- provoking (photo and sculpture). Last week, our school went on an excursion to a local village where there is a cooperative of women who do weaving for a living. I am really blessed to be here.

On Thursday, I will be picked up by the field director of Students International, Antigua, whose name is Fernando. He came to the school today to meet me and asked if I'd like to attend a staff meeting on thursday. As well, SI just began an art site here in Antigua this week, so I will get to meet the woman who is running that and they have asked for suggestions from me. We'll see if God gives me any becuase I really don't know what I'm doing...

Thank you for all of your prayers. The grace of God has been keeping me well and through your continues prayers, I will stay healthy, learn Spanish and return safely home mid-July.

Peace and Grace to you in Christ Jesus.