Christmas in Xela

It´s boxing day, and I have spent a really interesting a lovely christmas.

On Christmas eve, many of the shops closed at lunchtime in preparation for the evening´s celebrations. We decided to look in at the cathedral to see how the numerous catholics here in guatemala celebrate christmas eve. The service was at 8pm, and the cathedral was packed - standing room only. In keeping with the relaxed way of Guatemalans, people wandered in and out of the service for its duration, and nobody seemed to mind. The bishop of Xela was confusingly white-european, but we were still unable to understand any of the sermon. At the end of it T and I turned to one another and said ´thanks be to God´, and then dissolved into giggles. Why is it that being in a high church makes me want to giggle so much?

Other giggle inducing factors included the casio keyboard that provided the accompaniment to the christmas carols. The keyboardest clearly wasn´t one of Guatemala´s finest (or maybe s/he was!), and the wish-wash synthetic sounds of the casio keyboard had very little relationship to the carol being sung. The choir, in the face of such adversity battled on commendably, seemingly not concerned by the fact that their accompanist had been possessed by some strange, and not (particularly musical) demon. At one point in the service, a number of people entered at the rear of the cathedral, and started to ring handbells furiously. They weren´t the handbells that you might expect to hear in the UK, playing a christmas carol or similar, but rather a random assortment of clashing notes, bashed mercilessly for about 5 minutes. Then they disappeared.

Perhaps I am being a little cruel of the traditions here. The smell of the incense and the beauty of the cathedral was really poignant, and the christmas carols did make me feel wonderfully christmassy!

After the service, we wandered around the hundreds of stalls that had sprung up around the central square. We bumped into some american friends from our language school, who were making a pretty fine effort of eating their way around the entire square. We joined them for a couple of stops on their journey. I fell in love with Ponche - a sort of hot milk drink make with cinnamon and whisky. Absolutely heavenly on a chilly christmas eve.

I have mentioned here before the Guatemalan love of fireworks. Well, I had seen nothing until Christmas. One of our american friends showed us proudly one of the fireworks he had just purchased - an enormous home-made affair, that looked pretty terrifying! Every stall sold fireworks alongside chocolate coated strawberries, tacos, plantains, tortillas filled with strange-smelling meat, and my beloved ponche. The whole atmosphere was really lovely, everyone seemed to be really cheery, and hundreds of people milled around greeting one another.

T and I headed home around 10, but for Guatemalans, christmas eve is no time for going to bed. The traditional family meal takes place at midnight, and at this hour, T and I were woken by the whole of Xela exploding into thousands and thousands of fireworks. We had other plans however, with our christmas party scheduled for the next day.

Christmas morning really did feel like the morning after. As I walked through the deserted, sun-baked streets, the papery remains of last nights fireworks, being blown into piles by the wind - reminiscent of the autumn leaves I used to kick through as a child. The papers were mostly the red strips of fireworks that are sold by the metre at market stalls around the square. You literally light one end, and run for your life. Well, actually, that´s what english people would do. Here it´s quite common to see children playing with fireworks. On christmas morning, I saw a father and son with some rockets. They would hold them IN THEIR HANDS!, light them, wait for the whistling sound, and then toss them into the air. I think I provided as much entertainment for them as I scuttled by on the opposite side of the road with a look of horror on my face. All that ´don´t play with fireworks´ indoctrination ringing in my ears, accompanied by the music of the whilstles and bangs of the fireworks flying past me.

By some miracle, T and I arrived in safety at the party, and had a most agreeable day. Everyone had brought a dish and some booze to share. It was a fabulous day, with much fun had by all. I am amused to report that I met a girl who is a member of the church of elvis. She gave out copies of Elvis´ 11 commandments. Tragically, I don´t have my copy here, but promise to post them up here in the next few days.

Possibly the most disturbing was the badge she was wearing, which depicted the virgin mary. On closer inspection however, one realised that the face was that of Elvis.