November 19, 2007

Dear Friends,

November in Guatemala, especially in the higher altitudes where Cobán is located, is uncomfortably cold and damp—something like a southern winter in the United States. One thing the weather does, though, is to remind us that Christmas is approaching and that we will soon be with family and friends. Gloria and I return to the United States in mid-December to celebrate the holiday. We look forward to the traditional gift-giving, carol-singing, and the food and deserts eaten only at this time of year. Not only do I look forward to seeing family members but also my dog. It sounds strange, I know, but I really miss my dog. Every year when we return home for Christmas I wonder if the dog has forgotten me, but she never has. She is always glad to see us, and at the age of 12 is still able to leap, cry, and lick us when we arrive home. Who wouldn’t like a reception like that? Gloria and I have never felt we’ve made a sacrifice to be here—although people are kind to suggest it now and then—except giving up my dog. I wonder if she’ll remember me this year?

Our Kekchi friends have their own traditions, although they are being influenced greatly by U.S. customs and business. Today, workers were installing a 25-foot iron Christmas tree in the central plaza of Cobán. They do this without benefit of ladders or scaffolding. They connect enough of the pieces to be able to climb up three feet or so, and then connect more and climb another three feet. Fascinating, clearly dangerous, but this borrowed tradition of a Christmas tree, iron or otherwise, is growing. When we lived in Guatemala City, Gallo, the local beer maker, sponsored and erected a shining, well-lit (so to speak), 25-foot plastic Christmas tree along heavily traveled Reforma Boulevard. Their community spirit was a little suspect when they topped the tree with a huge Gallo sign, visible for blocks in every direction.

The largest department store in Guatemala, Hiper Paiz, resembles any Wal-Mart store in the United States. That’s no surprise, since Wal-Mart bought them a few years ago and exported their way of doing business. There’s even a small Paiz store in Cobán, and it is now festooned with Christmas wreaths, lights, displays, music, and pictures of Santa Claus—all the trappings of Christmas. However, none of our Kekchi friends will be shopping there since none of this represents their lifestyle. The folks with whom we work are all campesinos—farmers—toiling and eking out a living in their small plots of land in the rural areas around Cobán and in the department of the Petén.

Much as there are family traditions in the United States, so we find there are some differences in how our Kekchi friends spend the holiday. There is one thing they have in common, however, and that is a very long worship service on Christmas Eve. Depending on the village custom, some will gather in their churches Christmas Eve at 7:00 p.m., others at 8:00 p.m., to begin their services. These will include Bible study, biblical programs, biblical drama, singing, praying, and preaching. The service won’t end until midnight, at which time, if they have enough money, they’ll ignite fireworks, especially those loud, booming, exploding, rockets and firecrackers. They will then share tamales de navidad, which are regular corn tamales with a little pork or chicken inside. The custom is the same not only for the Presbyterians but also for the Catholics and other churches that might exist in a village. Frequently, December 24 and 25 are days of rest, but not always. If they feel they should work they will work and most of them do. Sharing of gifts is extremely rare, although in some cases a little money might be given or maybe some article of needed clothing. Some Kekchi churches may invite other churches to participate with them, and some may invite family members from other parts of the country, although much of that is conditioned by availability of money, which is always in short supply.

These are small celebrations and represent only a minor diversion from their daily lives. Somehow, we sense that the Kekchi are missing something on this special day because it has always been such a huge focus in our culture. We tend to forget about the frantic activity and the sadness and problems that too many in the United States suffer during a day and season that is so full of emotion and memories for most. Maybe we can learn something from the Kekchi about the small pleasures of just spending time and a simple meal together while we worship the Lord. Still, I must admit that I am eagerly looking forward to our Christmas tradition with the warmth of family and friends and my dog, that is, if she hasn’t forgotten me.

Que la paz de Cristo sea con ustedes durante esta época de navidad y para siempre,

Roger and Gloria

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope. 
- Ps. 130:5

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 65