Happy Holiday Season 2014 from El Jocotel, specializing in nondemoninational tranquility, El Jocotel Blog and The Tzununa' Bread and Coffee Shop, where everything is for sale.
15 months in Guatemala for me now.
A while back, I met this guy J*, a tall, imposing, vaguely Mormon, gringo builder. He was putting up a hotel his family would manage in Panajachel. He told me openly that a good part of their business would come from visiting religious groups. We got to talking about Mayan workers. I really can't remember what lead him into it, but at point during that chat, he looked right at me and declared, "These people are the devil." At that point, with my own crew newly on the payroll, questioning to myself how religious he really was, his comment did not resonate with me. It also shocked me.
Like coffee and mony other things, integrating into a foreign village and neighborhood drastically different from my own carries a burden of knowledge. This burden includes petty(mostly) theft. Things disappear, not only from my place. The locals survive in this difficult location because they've figured it out over many years. For every challenge, they figure it out and magically it often seems like they don't get wet. I need to figure it out: what will they steal, and what will they leave alone. And if it gets stolen, I won't have that thing (until there's more of a guardian around at El Jocotel, then we'll have whatever we like and the problem itself should disappear).
This morning, I met with Santiago and the new stonemason, Bartolo. Bartolo is taking over for Gaspar who accepted other work during a two-week, unpaid vacation I mandated and he is sticking with that for now. Bartolo is a hard worker and does beautiful stone work. He's stout, looking almost like a stone wall himself. As Santiago said, "Bartolo has more intelligence [than Gaspar]." Gaspar did the top 26 meters of the wall and Bartolowill do the lower 26 meters. For this perimeter wall, parts of Gaspar's section will double as walls for a small house, bodega, shower, bathroom and restaurant area. Bartolo's section wraps the coffee farm, kitchen/bakery and bodega two. It is a big, strong wall and it has been quite a project. The process gives me a much greater appreciation for construction ventures of any scale. Even though the scale of this project is actually quite small, to me it feels like the Great Wall of China, My intention is the enclosed feeling; protected, secluded, behind closed doors, Antigua-style. Shade gardens with huge foliage and delicious coffee.
When I felt my questions were answered enough to prepare me for my meeting with Charlie, Santiago and I sat down to talk about other things. Since my cabin got rented out for the season, beginning in February, it seemed like a good time to finally consider in earnest who would become the main caretaker for El Jocotel. I was considering Felix. I've known Felix for an entire year myself. He's a neighbor (both pro and con), he's worked with Santiago for years, he's old enough to have a 20-year old kid, he's a hard worker and among his many hats is that of an excellent coffee farmer. Also, Felix does not have the gift of gab, at least not for the Spanish language.
When I mentioned Felix seeking Santiago's thoughts, it jogged something in his memory. Santiago's been busy wrapping up details at the Bambu while the owner is in town and I've been gangster gardening, which in this case means I take unauthorized (stolen) cuttings or root divisions from other people's gardens and get then started in my own. I guess I steal, too, though very often I get permission.
"I forgot to tell you", says him, "your cat is with Felix's family." (no relationship to the Forest Park food establishment). "Have you had any girls over? Local girls from here?"
"No." I don't have local girls over. I wish that kind of thing were less complicated and more acceptable, but no. I had one local friend over, but she visited from San Pedro.
"Well, Gloria...", he began, naming the sister. Gloria is a pretty teenager with a slightly pudgy face. She's charasmatic and friendly and we say hello to each other on the path or the street. Barring the fact that she's the accused cat thief, you would want Gloria as a member of the Tzununa' Girls Rugby Team, if that existed. They're physically trained to punish some other squad and if you could get the girls to understand the rules, that team would go places. The best bet would be a patient Spanish-speaking rugby player or referee unless a Kaqchikel rugby person exists somewhere.
"Here's what you'll say when you see Gloria. Tell you're sad because your cat is gone."
I descended upon the internet shop and found Juana kibbutzing with the attendant, Maria, Juana is Gloria's sister. I told her I was sad and she asked why.
"Because my cat is missing. Have you seen a cat around the neighborhood?"
I would describe her reaction as maybe too shocked and benificent and concerned. She declined any knowledge of any cat. The informant about the cat is I***, a ten-year girl with a propensity for wood-splitting, from a good family. I have no reason to disbelieve I***. If what I*** and others say is true, if the cat is there, then logically Juana has to be lying to me.
I checked my one email which was so short I could read the entire thing in the inbox preview. Either nothing new had come in, or I'd been hacked and all my new emails were read and deleted and I'll never know of their existence. I checked Face, blowing a few minutes, then picked up to go.
"So you haven't seen a cat..." I try again with Juana. Now she seems more interested in the computer screen. "Small, kind of grey, some black, some white."
I tried to channel Larry David as I stared into Juana's black eyes and thought back to J*'s comment. It's been eight days since the cat vanished like a fart in the wind. Do they have her? Was she torn limb from limb by he mountain gato or a mythical creature? Can I go to their house and poke around. I will not negotiate with terrorists (read: buy my cat back) but it's really the principle and what's more, she was forming into a fine car. She was already far more well-liked by myself than the dog.
I am no socioeconomist. I cannot say how a village, this village or any other, came to be what it is or why it may have more theft than other places. Maybe someone could explain it to me, I happy to listen. It's especially confounding because the population in general is so humble and friendly. Thinking about the annoying bullshit that is petty theft is something I've never done, except a little at prep school, and didn't really want to do. I will maintain
There is no real upshot or message to all this except to say that if your day to day life is free of this hassle, then give thanks for that this Christmas, Hannukah and New Year season. Last night, I was treated to amazing turkey dinner at the home of my friends Shad and Colleen. The turkey was a twenty pounder bought by Shad at one day old some months back and raised on his farm with a slew of others. I wish everyone a happy, healthy season and the best for 2015.
I'm often asked if I can receive mail down here and the answer is yes. If you send something, please let me know so I know to go pick it up 'general delivery' at the post office in a near by village.
Max Benjamin
Lista de Correos
Panajachel, Solola, Guatemala
Centroamerica
15 months in Guatemala for me now.
A while back, I met this guy J*, a tall, imposing, vaguely Mormon, gringo builder. He was putting up a hotel his family would manage in Panajachel. He told me openly that a good part of their business would come from visiting religious groups. We got to talking about Mayan workers. I really can't remember what lead him into it, but at point during that chat, he looked right at me and declared, "These people are the devil." At that point, with my own crew newly on the payroll, questioning to myself how religious he really was, his comment did not resonate with me. It also shocked me.
Like coffee and mony other things, integrating into a foreign village and neighborhood drastically different from my own carries a burden of knowledge. This burden includes petty(mostly) theft. Things disappear, not only from my place. The locals survive in this difficult location because they've figured it out over many years. For every challenge, they figure it out and magically it often seems like they don't get wet. I need to figure it out: what will they steal, and what will they leave alone. And if it gets stolen, I won't have that thing (until there's more of a guardian around at El Jocotel, then we'll have whatever we like and the problem itself should disappear).
This morning, I met with Santiago and the new stonemason, Bartolo. Bartolo is taking over for Gaspar who accepted other work during a two-week, unpaid vacation I mandated and he is sticking with that for now. Bartolo is a hard worker and does beautiful stone work. He's stout, looking almost like a stone wall himself. As Santiago said, "Bartolo has more intelligence [than Gaspar]." Gaspar did the top 26 meters of the wall and Bartolowill do the lower 26 meters. For this perimeter wall, parts of Gaspar's section will double as walls for a small house, bodega, shower, bathroom and restaurant area. Bartolo's section wraps the coffee farm, kitchen/bakery and bodega two. It is a big, strong wall and it has been quite a project. The process gives me a much greater appreciation for construction ventures of any scale. Even though the scale of this project is actually quite small, to me it feels like the Great Wall of China, My intention is the enclosed feeling; protected, secluded, behind closed doors, Antigua-style. Shade gardens with huge foliage and delicious coffee.
When I felt my questions were answered enough to prepare me for my meeting with Charlie, Santiago and I sat down to talk about other things. Since my cabin got rented out for the season, beginning in February, it seemed like a good time to finally consider in earnest who would become the main caretaker for El Jocotel. I was considering Felix. I've known Felix for an entire year myself. He's a neighbor (both pro and con), he's worked with Santiago for years, he's old enough to have a 20-year old kid, he's a hard worker and among his many hats is that of an excellent coffee farmer. Also, Felix does not have the gift of gab, at least not for the Spanish language.
When I mentioned Felix seeking Santiago's thoughts, it jogged something in his memory. Santiago's been busy wrapping up details at the Bambu while the owner is in town and I've been gangster gardening, which in this case means I take unauthorized (stolen) cuttings or root divisions from other people's gardens and get then started in my own. I guess I steal, too, though very often I get permission.
"I forgot to tell you", says him, "your cat is with Felix's family." (no relationship to the Forest Park food establishment). "Have you had any girls over? Local girls from here?"
"No." I don't have local girls over. I wish that kind of thing were less complicated and more acceptable, but no. I had one local friend over, but she visited from San Pedro.
"Well, Gloria...", he began, naming the sister. Gloria is a pretty teenager with a slightly pudgy face. She's charasmatic and friendly and we say hello to each other on the path or the street. Barring the fact that she's the accused cat thief, you would want Gloria as a member of the Tzununa' Girls Rugby Team, if that existed. They're physically trained to punish some other squad and if you could get the girls to understand the rules, that team would go places. The best bet would be a patient Spanish-speaking rugby player or referee unless a Kaqchikel rugby person exists somewhere.
"Here's what you'll say when you see Gloria. Tell you're sad because your cat is gone."
I descended upon the internet shop and found Juana kibbutzing with the attendant, Maria, Juana is Gloria's sister. I told her I was sad and she asked why.
"Because my cat is missing. Have you seen a cat around the neighborhood?"
I would describe her reaction as maybe too shocked and benificent and concerned. She declined any knowledge of any cat. The informant about the cat is I***, a ten-year girl with a propensity for wood-splitting, from a good family. I have no reason to disbelieve I***. If what I*** and others say is true, if the cat is there, then logically Juana has to be lying to me.
I checked my one email which was so short I could read the entire thing in the inbox preview. Either nothing new had come in, or I'd been hacked and all my new emails were read and deleted and I'll never know of their existence. I checked Face, blowing a few minutes, then picked up to go.
"So you haven't seen a cat..." I try again with Juana. Now she seems more interested in the computer screen. "Small, kind of grey, some black, some white."
I tried to channel Larry David as I stared into Juana's black eyes and thought back to J*'s comment. It's been eight days since the cat vanished like a fart in the wind. Do they have her? Was she torn limb from limb by he mountain gato or a mythical creature? Can I go to their house and poke around. I will not negotiate with terrorists (read: buy my cat back) but it's really the principle and what's more, she was forming into a fine car. She was already far more well-liked by myself than the dog.
I am no socioeconomist. I cannot say how a village, this village or any other, came to be what it is or why it may have more theft than other places. Maybe someone could explain it to me, I happy to listen. It's especially confounding because the population in general is so humble and friendly. Thinking about the annoying bullshit that is petty theft is something I've never done, except a little at prep school, and didn't really want to do. I will maintain
There is no real upshot or message to all this except to say that if your day to day life is free of this hassle, then give thanks for that this Christmas, Hannukah and New Year season. Last night, I was treated to amazing turkey dinner at the home of my friends Shad and Colleen. The turkey was a twenty pounder bought by Shad at one day old some months back and raised on his farm with a slew of others. I wish everyone a happy, healthy season and the best for 2015.
I'm often asked if I can receive mail down here and the answer is yes. If you send something, please let me know so I know to go pick it up 'general delivery' at the post office in a near by village.
Max Benjamin
Lista de Correos
Panajachel, Solola, Guatemala
Centroamerica
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