Paches

Assembling the paches

Yesterday I learned one more traditional Guatemalan dish, Paches, or tamales de arroz. These tamales are a traditional Christmas treat, though they are definitely available throughout the rest of the year, however they are more reserved for special occassions.

This cooking lesson was led by my former teacher, Ana, a great cook with whom I've exchanged lots of recipes. Essentially our Spanish classes always seemed to morph into descriptions of our craziest kitchen exploits, favorite foods, market trips etc. It is thanks to her that I learned correct Spanish words for describing specific kinds of baking pans, stirring spoons, the difference between simmering and boiling and other details that might not emerge in most students' intermediate Spanish classes.

Paches can be made for the vegetarian, but to truly embrace this food, you must embrace a favorite ingredient of mine, bacon fat. Luckily, Ana's husband's aunt (aunt-in-law?) has pigs and sells fresh, fresh mantequa de cerdo. If you can't find lard/bacon fat or for some reason have ethical/health/religious objections to using it, you can substitute vegetable shortening. I asked if butter would work, and it will, but shortening is aparently better.

The other great thing about this recipe is that if you've mastered it, you've essentially mastered another classic Guatemalan dish, Pepian. The only difference between the sauce in this recipe and pepian is the addition of a lone chile.

I think I've decided that paches are definitely not my favorite Guatemalan food (my stomach is in accord on this one--perhaps all my years of pseudo-vegetarianism didn't quite prepare me for the meatiness of these tamales). However, they're a classic and everyone else seems to love them. This recipe makes about 30 large paches. Enough for a great fiesta. Give it a try and enjoy!

Ingredients:
1/3 lb lard
2 lbs ground rice
3 oz. sesame seeds
3 oz. pumpkin seeds
1 chile guacaye (dry, spicy pepper)
1 chile pasa (dried bell pepper)
4 plum tomatoes
1 in. cinnamon stick
Salt to taste
Pinch of saffron
3 lbs chicken (or 2.5 if it's already de-boned, fileted etc.)
1 white bread roll (pan frances here)
2 red peppers, juliened
1/2 C. olives
1/2 C. dried plums
1/2 C. raisins
3 manojos de ojas de Maxam (roughly translates to three bundles of these big green leaves of the Maxam tree. You can subtitute banana leaves. In total about 50 leaves)

Directions
Bring 2-3 litres of water to boil in a very large pot and add lard.
Add the rice and saffron and stir constantly until rice is cooked through, adding heated water as needed. (The final consistency should be like cream of wheat). Season with salt (about 2 tbps) to taste while cooking. Set aside to cool slightly.

Meanwhile, toast the sesame seeds and pumpkin seeds until lightly browned. In a pan, roast the tomatoes until browned on all sides and softened. Soak the bread in water until thoroughly moistened. Put the seeds, tomatoes, cinnamon stick, salt (about 1 tbsp) and 3/4 C. water in the blender and blend until smooth. Remove the sauce from the blender and add the bread and a little more water. Blend the bread to absorb all the remaining contents of the blender and add to the sauce. Season with additional salt if necessary. Clean and wash the chicken and cut into large-bite-sized pieces. Stir the chicken into the sauce.
To assemble the paches
Place one small leaf inside a larger leaf. Place about 3/4 cup of rice in the middle of the small leaf. Spoon the sauce and a piece of chicken over the center of the rice. Add one piece each of pepper, olive, plum and raisin to the rice and press in firmly. Roll the leaves up (hard to describe without demonstrating--fold up the two sides of the paches to meet in the middle and then roll these pieces together until they meet the rice. Then fold in the two ends so you have a nice tight package of rice. Repeat with the outer leaf). Repeat until all the ingredients are used up.

Cooking the paches

To cook the paches
Place a rack or pieces of maxam leaves on the bottom of a very large pot and cover with water. Fill the pot with the paches in concentric cirlces. Cover the top layer with a plastic bag, sealing in the sides to ensure that no vapor will escape. Trust me, the bag doesn't melt. This remains a mystery. Cook over medium heat for approximately 1.5 hours. The maxam leaves will turn a darker shade of green and when done, the cooked paches will sound hollow when tapped. Or, remove one, taste it, and decide if you think it's cooked through.

Tasting the paches

Buen Provecho!

Food System Change Not Coming From the Top

Yesterday President elect Obama nominated his pick for the Secretary of Agriculture, former Iowa Governor Tom Vilsack. Like many other people, I have been watching the nearly daily announcements of cabinet nominations with some degree of excitement, waiting to see if any nomination points towards actual change. To date I've been pretty uniformly disappointed (though not altogether surprised) and the nomination of Vilsack marks another disappointment.

If you think the Department of Agriculture is a small department without much influence on the average American, think again. The USDA operates on a $97 billion annual budget, is responsible for administering all of the food and nutrition programs (including the school lunch program, which feeds over 25 million young people each day), all agricultural subsidies, conservation programs, the forest service etc. etc. We are all food consumers, and as such, USDA policies affect each and every one of us. Unfortunately, in his acceptance of the nomination, Vilsack failed to mention the words "food" or "eaters," instead, promising to protect the interests of farmers and ranchers, who represent less than 5% of the American population (for a concise review of Vilsack's nomination, listen to this NPR interview with Michael Pollan).

The past several weeks have been quite full of outreach and organizing within the sustainable food and nutrition communities around the appoinment of a new Secretary of Agriculture. Most prominently, Michael Pollan wrote an 9-page piece in the New York Times magazine, an open Letter to the Farmer in Chief, imploring the president elect to recognize the centrality of food to influencing many of his key campaign pledges--addressing climate change, the health care crisis and energy independence. This article is a great introduction to understanding how we got where we are today with our agricultural system, and how we cannot make meaningful change in energy use, climate change or health status without dramatic reforms in the way we produce food.

Unfortunately, few major reforms are likely to be driven by the Department of Agriculture with Vilsack at its helm. As Governor of Iowa, Vilsack ardently embraced the production of corn and soy-based ethanol, one of the largest contributors to the worldwide spike in food prices. He supported legislation which stripped the rights of local governments to regulate confined animal feed operations (CAFOs) or regulate the production of genetically modified foods. He has been a leading voice for pharmaceutical crops and was named Governor of the Year by the largest biotechnology industry group, the Biotechnology Industry Organization. For those of us who seek an end to the dominance of agribusiness in the US food system and a return to regionalized, family sized farming operations, we do not have a champion in Vilsack. However, there are a few areas in which he may support important reforms, including a cap on farm subsidies for those farmers earning more than $250,000 ($250,000! Yes, apparently in the world of US farming, that is the benchmark for "low-income". Incrementalism at its finest.) Additionally, Vilsack has indicated support for livestock market reforms, one of the most obvious instances of agribussiness abuse in the food system.

The sustainable food and farming communities are at odds for how best to provoke change in the next administration. The Organic Consumers Association and Pesticide Action Network are calling for an opposition to the nomination of Vilsack. Other groups such as the Center for Rural Affairs argue that the key is not to oppose the nomination, but to organize strongly to influence the policies that the USDA supports, including regulation of anti-competitive behavior in the agriculture industry (particularly consolidation in the meat industry), safety nets for family-sized farms, regulation of CAFOs, support for new (young!) farmers, and incentives for local and organic agriculture.

In the lead up to this nomination, many groups came together to propose more sustainable choices for Secretary of Agriculture. Unfortunately, our thousands and thousands of emails, calls etc. were not recognized. However, the sustainable agriculture and nutrition infastructure was clearly strengthened in this effort. What is clear is that we cannot wait for change to come from above. We must continue this organizing and creating sustainable food solutions quite litereally from the ground up. While a champion of intelligent food and farm policy at the presidential level could do wonders to change the current food system, individual farmers, community organizers and most importantly, eaters, will continue to serve as the true advocates for a sustainable food system.

Cookies All Around

This week I'm not studying and I am supposed to be finding myself a job. I am doing a lot of research on that front, but also realize that everyone is about to go on Christmas vacation and whatever I do will not begin until the new year. Today I did help pack 250 lbs of fair trade coffee to mail to buyers in the US, for Omar's organization, Cafe Conciencia, but I must admit that the past two days I have largely been baking (and eating) Christmas cookies. It turned out that Eloisa had never baked cookies before. Ever. This amazed me because she is a wonderful cook. When Ruth found this out, she decided we had to make and decorate Christmas cookies, a tradition she has carried out with her mother her whole life. I think originally the idea was to decorate the cookies with Eloisa's sons, who both love sweets and like to paint. We figured this would be a great activity to do together, but it turns out they're staying with their grandmother this week. Alas, we decided to bake anyway. And when we couldn't find a gingerbread man cookie cutter, we decided to make a gingerbread house. I'm not sure I've even made one before, but how hard could it be? We made the walls and roof today and will do the assembling tomorrow. It sure wasn't hard to find any number of candies, marshmallows, sprinkles etc. to decorate with.

Manchas (Eloisa and Furio's dog) was very jealous...

For an illustration of the whole day, check out Ruth's photos. I'll post a photo of the finished product if it can actuall stay standing up long enough.

What may have been one of the most valuable parts of this adventure was discovering Tienda Emanuel up at the main market, La Democracia. Tienda Emanuel is a cake supply store and they sell 25lb bags of flour! Sourdough here I come...

Tamales con Chipilin

A few weekends ago, I had a wonderful time learning a few traditional dishes from my neighbor, Eloisa. I have been meaning to write about it for a while now, and finally got around to asking my friend, and cooking partner, Ruth, for the photos she took during our kitchen adventure.

Eloisa is a wonderful cook. In addition to many traditional Guatemalan foods, she's become an expert pizza maker. It probably helps that she's married to an Italian, but she does all the prep and it really is delicious--a nice thin crust, a mix of cheeses, and whatever fresh vegetables she can come across, piled high and wonderfully seasoned. In addition to tamales, we made sweet ayote. This is essentially pumpkin boiled in a simple syrup made from panela, an unrefined sugar that's dark with a taste mildly reminiscent of molasses. It was flavorful, but a bit too sweet for me. Perhaps it would have been better spooned over some tart, plain yogurt. The tamales were the real winners of the day. We ate that that evening with vegetables and chicken, grilled in the courtyard. Hairdryers work wonders when the grill is taking a long time to warm up....










Chipilin (Crotalaria longirostrata), a plant native Central America is used as both herb and vegetable. The leaves can be boiled much like spinach. But much more common is the incorporation of finely chopped leaves into tamales. You probably won't find chipilin to widely available in the US. It turns out that chipilin plants produce many, many seeds, which, coupled with the fact that few animals eat chipilin plants, has led to its classification as a noxious weeds. Australia has even banned the import of chipilin seeds. That being said, it's pretty tasty stuff. Maybe it wouldnt be considered invasive if we just found more uses for it and kept it under control by eating more of it. So, to that end, here's the recipe for tamales with chipilin.

If you've never made tamales before, it turns out they're not too difficult to make-especially when you live next door to a corn mill. Most of you probably aren't so lucky, so try using a commercially available masa, or corn meal, widely sold in the "ethnic foods section" of grocery stores. I believe a common brand is Maseca. The other ingredient that might be slightly difficult to come by if there aren't any ethnic groceries nearby is queso fresco. In a pinch, you can substitute farmers cheese, or another soft, mild, moist cheese. But try and find some queso fresco. Vale la pena. Eloisa buys her from a woman who sells door to door every Wednesday in our neighborhood. So far I've just purchased cheese at the market, but I think I have to try and get in on the home delivery. It's the freshest I've had. This recipe makes about 40 tamales, enough for a feast, or to eat for a few days. They're pretty tasty warmed in the toaster oven or directly over the oven flame.

Ingredients:
2 lb masa
1/2 liter vegetable oil
3 C. water
1-2 cups chopped chipilin
1 lb queso fresco
Salt to taste
Corn husks-soaked in water until flexible

Directions:
Mix the masa, oil, water and salt in a large bowl with your hands. The dough should have a smooth consistency, like a moist pie dough. Add the queso and chipilin and mix until well combined. Form tight, ovals of dough about half the size of your fist. Wrap the dough in corn husks. Place a metal rack at the bottom of a deep pot. Place the tamales on top of the rack in concentric circles. Put a few inches of water in the pot. Cover the pot and place over medium heat. (Eloisa covered the tamales with a plastic bag before placing the lid on top. This helps keep in the moisture, but be careful the bag doesn't melt to the pot). Cook for approximately 1 hour or until tamales are firm and cooked through.

Un éxito

Thanksgiving came and went in a bit of a blur last night. I believe the total count ended up at 19 (including some very small mouths who may have only been able to eat mashed potatoes). It was a great evening celebrating with new friends. We couldn't fit inside so we made a fire on the terrace and ate outdoors--definitely a bonus of being close to the equator. It was also a real harvest celebration as 6 guests had just completed their annual corn harvest. The corn has been placed on the roof where it will dry and eventually become the meal that makes their tortillas.

Getting Started

The food was a big success, though I think some folks were afraid of the sweet potato and marshmallow dish. The marshmallows were much more popular roasted in the fire. That might have to become a new Thanksgiving tradition for me...

What Remained

El Día de Gracias

The Pavo in the Pila

I am sad to be so far from my family this week as they celebrate Thanksgiving in Boston, but am looking forward to sharing some of the culinary traditions with Guatemalan friends. I was never really into the celebrating the history of thanksgiving anyway, so I’m doing my best to keep celebrating the food. While it’s not too hard to find a lot of the foods I'm used to preparing for a Boston Thanksgiving, the number of guests has rapidly grown. So the challenge now is just getting everything cooked in my very small kitchen. (For example, the turkey doesn’t fit in the oven. Thanks to my neighbor and Thanksgiving guest, Eloisa, for offering her oven).

Joining me, Lucas and Omar at the apartment will be our neighbors Eloisa and Furio with their sons Diego and Emilio. Higinio, a friend of Lucas and his family (not sure exactly who, but there should be six), and probably my old Spanish teacher Ana and her husband Estuardo. I think that gets us to 15!

I’m looking forward to this Thanksgiving truly being a celebration of the harvest. Thursday morning we’ll be helping Higinio and his family, who live on the edge of town, with their corn harvest. Well, Lucas will be helping them. I may need to stay put in the house if we actually want to eat the turkey before midnight. But I’ll have my opportunity to help harvest on Sunday when they’ve scheduled the harvest for Higinio’s mother-in-law.

The menu will be pretty traditional:

• Turkey (plans for another neighbor to slaughter one of the turkeys she keeps in her yard fell through. We sadly resorted to Hiper Pais, a Wal-mart owned grocery store, to provide the bird)

• Mashed potatoes, the highlands of Guatemala are potato central.

• Sweet potatoes-made with camote- a very thick skinned, pale fleshed potato that grows closer to the coast. I will be making my mom’s traditional sweet potato and marshmallow dish, into which she usually puts a bit of crushed canned pineapple. I’m taking advantage of being by the equator and am going to try and use the fresh stuff. We’ll see what happens. Apparently marshmallows are hugely popular here, as they seem to be available (and on oferta) in every grocery I go into.

• Green beans- it appears to be the end of the season here, as they’ve been harder to find at the market and seem a bit tough, but they should do.

• Salad—I refuse to give up fresh, leafy greens as many extranjeros do. I come armed with a bit of biocide and some hopeful thoughts.

• Cornbread stuffing—I am obviously in the motherland of corn cultivation right now. But apparently masa, the cornmeal used to make tortillas, tamales, pupusas etc. is slightly different than yellow corn meal I’m used to cooking with. It’s hard to explain exactlt how it’s different. All I can say is that my cornbread tastes a little bit like a tamale. But add enough turkey grease, carrots, celery etc. and I’m sure it’ll be tasty.

• Cranberry Sauce- From a can, sadly. No cranberries to be found, even at Hiper Pais.

• Rice and Barley Salad—When I moved in to the apartment there was a large bag of organic barley someone had left behind. I’m finally going to put it to use combined with the small package of dried cranberries I found at an odd bookstore in town .

• Apple pie-apples are in season here and I found some nice firm ones that taste a bit like Galas. Not too tart, but again, combine it with enough butter and sugar and what could go wrong?

• Pumpkin pie—I was honestly thinking of skipping this one in favor of something a bit more tropical, but one of the guests who spent a few years living in Colorado and experienced a few Thanksgivings stateside is eager for his kids to try the pie. I was going to roast a pumpkin or “elote” but got a little lazy when 1) I began to think about the size of my oven and 2) I saw a can of Libby’s pumpkin at evil Hiper Pais. At this point, the canned stuff is probably more “authentic” than roasting your own pumpkin. So that’s what I’m doing.

• Zapote Pie—this was an invention of mine last time I was in Guatemala and wanting to make something reminiscent of a pumpkin pie. Zapote is a fruit widely cultivated in southern mexico and on the Guatemalan coast. It looks like an oversized sweet potato with a rough, brown skin. But inside, the flesh is the deep orangey-pink color, smooth, slightly sweet. If avocados, papayas and sweet potatoes came together and had a baby, it would be a zapote. The zapote will be pureed like a pumpkin pie filling, but I will add a bit of coconut milk (somewhat like the Casuela pie common in Puerto Rico) and the crust will be a butter, shortbread of crushed macadamias and shredded coconut. If it’s a success I’ll try and post the recipe.

El concurso de comida típica

Tonight was quite an evening at the school. Every Friday night there is a small graduation celebration and dinner for those students leaving the school. The dinner alternates between traditional Guatemala food, prepared by teachers, and "international food" prepared by students. But this week was an exception. This month has been full of festivities to mark the 20th anniversary of the school. Last week was a small road race up the nearby mountain (hill), Baul. And this Friday was a culinary competition amongst host families at the school. Over 20 families decided to participate in the event, which was judged by a panel of professional chefs. Well, semi-professional. I never realized when I raised my hand at a meeting earlier this week at the school and identified myself as someone with professional cooking experience that I would be picked to judge the contest. Somehow I ended up being one of just three judges, the other two being recent culinary school graduates from Xela, one of whom comes from a family of 5 generations of chefs! Needless to say, I was a bit out of my league, but it was quite an experience.

Each family sat at a long, long table behind their dish. We judged on 5 categories presentation, flavor, preparation, ingredients and aroma. The winners were a Pepian in the style of the Capital region, a something that I think was called Chocon, but I can't quite remember, and as the dessert, Mole de Plátano. Even though I know absolutely nothing about traditional Guatemalan cuisine (actually, I have learned to make Tamales with Chipilin and Sweet Ayote, but more on that later), I chose the Pepian and the Mole without knowing that these were the favorites of the two other judges as well. The Chocon, I probably wouldn't have picked. But I think it was very authentivc and made entirely by hand (chiles ground in a grinding stone etc.) and for that reason was a top scorer. The winners received various kitchen appliances--a toaster, a slow-cooker, a blender. I missed out entirely on the "international food" brought by other students but I think I was the one who lucked out getting to taste all the families' dishes-from potato empanadas to sweet tamales to chili rellenos, a real showcase of Guatemalan food, made with a whole lot of thought and care. The only bummer was that I didn't get to have any of the pita bread that I made this afternoon for the event, nor did I have any of the oatmeal raisin/coconut/macadamia nut cookies I baked. I guess I'll just have to make them again. Lastima. Anyway, it was quite an evening.

On top of all this, I "graduated" from the school. This involved participating in a bizarre play taken from a Paraguayan radion program about a woman who has to decide if she should follow her husband to the city. I may go back to study some more in December, but at least for now, my studying is done. Diploma in hand, I'm on to the next thing, whatever that may be.

Bread Two Ways

As I wrote previously, I've been longing for some crusty bread. So while I'm waiting for my sourdough starter to develop (it's coming along, see the bubbles forming...)



I decided to try a recipe that has been kicking around my recipe file for quite some time: No-Knead Bread. This recipe was adapted from the Sullivan Street Bakery in NYC, a really wonderful bakery, and created quite a stir when published in the Minimalist column in the New York Times a few years ago. The secret to the bread is time and moisture. Supposedly these two factors stand in for kneading, allowing the gluten molecules to form the same way they do when you knead dough. So while this recipe does use yeast, it uses a very small amount (1/4 tsp, compared to the tbsp. present in many yeasted bread recipes). I've mixed the dough and after about 12 hrs of rest, it should be ready to form into loaves. The trick to getting a nice firm, crispy crust is cooking the bread in a covered pot. This creates the steamy environment present in most professional bread ovens without having to spray water into the oven at regular intervals, place ice cubes on the oven floor, or any other number of tricks I have tried previously with minimal success and lots of effort. So, the dough is resting on the kitchen counter, I'll keep you updated on how it turns out...

Notes from my Xela Kitchen

So I may not have come to Xela to become a cook, but it seems to be taking up quite a bit my time that isn't spent trying to become a Spanish-speaker (that being the thing that I did come here do). I don't generally find myself longing for any particular foods here--the markets are overflowing with delicious fruits and vegetables of all kinds, from a firm fleshed squash called huiskil, to oblong white-fleshed passion fruits and everything in between. And when I'm feeling lazy, the streets are lined with vendors selling sweet, cinnammon streaked arroz con leche, crispy pupusas with spicy tomato salsa, fried plantains stuffed with sweet black beans...the list goes on. But if I had to find one thing that I miss, it would be nice, crusty, sourdough bread. In Boston I head a well seasoned sourdough starter kicking around the fridge for about two years. Whenever I wanted to make bread, I'd take the starter out of the fridge, feed it for a few days, and it would be ready to go. By the next evening, I could have to large loaves of whole wheat speckled sourdough loaves perfect with a bowl of heart soup. But in Xela, thick-crusted bread doesn't seem to exist. There are panaderias on nearly every corner, but each one sells a slightly different version of a sweet, soft white roll. Sometimes they're sprinkled with sesame seeds, other times with sugar, but they are almost always sweet. There are a few places that sell whole-wheat bread, but this is also soft, sandwich loaf style. So a few days ago I bought a big bag of flour, measured a cup into a mixing bowl, added some filtered water and thus began my new starter. It's sitting on the kitchen counter and I've been feeding it each afternoon. The bubbles are starting to appear and I'm hoping that on Sunday, I can start my first loaf. I hear there's a big stone pizza oven in town and I have humble dreams of finding a way to use the oven to make really crusty, smoky bread. But first, I've got to get the yeast going (levadura for those of you wondering how to say yeast in Spanish. If anyone can suggest a proper translation of "starter" that would be great. I've heard "la base" but I'm not sure if that's quite right..). And when it's done, a came across a delicious sounding, very simple soup recipe that I'm eager to try. For those of you not familiar with 101cookbooks.com it's a great cooking blog with tasty, simple, fresh vegetarian recipes. I've had lots of success with it. This recipe for Baby Lima Soup with Chipotle Broth sounds like the perfect accompaniment to a loaf of fresh Xela-baked sourdough. Wish me luck.

Quinoa and Cilantro Soup

When I moved into the apartment, there were shelves full of the random ingredients that Omar’s former (gringo) roommates had left behind—packets of instant miso soup, sheets of nori, a bag of Whole Foods millet, and wonderfully enough, a large bag of quinoa. So given that I’ve developed a nasty cold, I put the quinoa to work tonight in a quinoa and cilantro soup. The very basic recipe follows and I’m sure it’s quite adaptable to whatever you have on hand. The main flavor elements being cilantro, lime juice and the nutty-flavored quinoa. Thanks to my mom for offering the inspiration for this soup. She also suggested a lot of different serving suggestions for leftovers, including poaching an egg in the soup for a slightly heartier meal. Enjoy!
• 1 small onion, diced
• 1 medium carrot, diced
• 3/4 cup diced squash (I used a Guatemalan winter squash that has a very soft flesh. Butternut or another smooth-fleshed winter squash would work great, but zucchini would do as well)
• 6 cups vegetable broth
• 2/3 cup quinoa
• Juice of 1 lime
• 1 bunch of cilantro (tough stems removed and leaves roughly chopped)

Curso de Pasteles

Come late November I’m going to take a free cake-making class at the university with my current teacher, Ana. Ana is a great teacher and we mostly spend our time chatting away, with the occasion grammar lesson thrown in. She’s finishing her law degree and has a side-passion for cooking. I’ve been giving instructions for making pupusas and the Christmas special tamales, paches. She offered to teach me how to a make a full on Chapin celebratory dinner for Lucas’ birthday next week, but something tells me that he might not be that excited about that. Plus, I want to make a chocolate cake. I’ve got to find some cake pans. Did I mention that writing recipes is the best way to learn the imperative tense? Perhaps I’ll make soup and bread a bilingual site…

Gardens

The lettuce mix is starting to emerge on the terrace. Today Lucas bought a bunch more herb seeds. Now we just need some more soil. Later this week Omar’s bringing worms to start eating our rapidly growing pile of vegetable scraps. But I also learned yesterday that there’s a woman who walks down the street once a week buying fruit and vegetable scraps to feed to her pigs. So as long as we keep the cerdito safe scraps separate from the tea bags, coffee grounds, eggs shells and other detritus that apparently aren’t as appetizing to the pigs, we should be able to keep our waste to a minimum.

La Cervezaria

Did I mention I live above a cervezaria? A gringo and two Guatemalans running a microbrewery on the 1st floor of the apartment building (and a little bit of the back terreno). Today I came home to the sweet, yeasty smell of hops. They make a pale ale a few other varieties, none of which I’ve tried yet. But I hear, not surprisingly, it’s a bit better than Gallo and Cabro, the two national beers.

el día de los muertos

While across the US many people were recovering from Halloween sugar highs, in Guatemala (and many, many other countries) we were marking El día de los muertos, the day of the dead. Preparations from this day began weeks ago, with the cleaning and fresh painting of graves. The tradition varies slightly from community to community, particularly depending on the predominance of the Mayan culture. The festival is certainly a combination of indigenous and ladino customs, but at its root is based on the belief that this is the day when the spirits of those who have died return to earth. The veil between the worlds of the living and of the dead are thinest at this time. In Guatemala it is believed that the best way to communicate with the spirits at this time is through the flying of kites. So at cemeteries across the country, children and adults alike are found flying beautiful hand-made kites (as well as kites of adorned with the images of all the best action figures--Superman, Spiderman etc). It is customary to bring huge bundles of flowers to the graves, sprinkle the grave stones with pine needles and draw symbols of crosses out of flower petals on the carpets of pine needles. The streets around the cemeteries are crowded with flower vendors and women crafting floral wreaths.

Today we went to the nearby town of Zunil where the custom of decorating the graves is taken to extrem heights. The beautiful thing about this cemetery is that people only use flowers and the long red leaves of a plant called Arbol de Gallo to decorate. No plastic, no paper, nothing synthetic. Some graves are so fully covered that you cannot see the cement below. One family had hired a brass band to play thoughout the morning in from of the grave. The muscisians were all under about age 15 and seemed to only know 2 songs, but it made for a really festive atmosphere. I think it was this general feeling of joy that was what I loved most about the holiday. In two days of wandering for hours around two different cemeteries, I only saw one woman crying, and this I believe was over a veyr recent death. Rather, families come to the cemetery in celebration. They bring picnics, drinks, music and danse. They eat traditional "fiambre" (a meat and veg salad that is sold only at this time of year and as far as I can tell is actually a glorified chef's salad: lettuce, cheese slices, deli meat etc.). In all the comedors, restaurants, storefronts and kitchen windows I've passed selling the dish, it has always been advertised as "delicioso" fiambre. Never sabroso, rico, or one of the many other terms often used to describe food. Always delicioso. As much as I felt like I should, I couldn't bring myself to try it. Poco a poco with the meat.

A fair is set up outside the cemetery in Xela with food stalls, games, rides (all the traditional ones--merry-go-rounds, swings etc. but they're all hand powered. So some very dizzy person just runs in circles to keep them spinning.

I could try and describe it all, but it's probably far better to just let the photos speak for themselves. So much color and motion--a wonderful weekend. I'm feeling quite excited to be back in Xela.