Today we arrived at the Tiosh Abaj hotel in Santiago Atitlan, situated in an area far less touristy than the Hotel Princess (no air conditioning or telephone in the room) but far superior aesthetically. Long walkways line the front of the building, while our eyes stay engaged by the miniature ponds, mountains, a volcano, and a pristine view of Lake Atitlan.
This afternoon the sun was bright, but not scorching, and a cool breeze kept the air at an optimal temperature. We lunched at a table outside of the hotel restaurant; a buffet of fresh guacamole (possibly from the avocado trees that hang over a pond on the front lawn), beans (frijoles), salsa, rice, and a choice of steak (carne) or chicken (pollo). I tried the almond-sweetened milk that is popular here. Everything was delicious!
After lunch we walked through the town of Santiago, (which is essentially a cobblestone road that twists and turns up the mountain side), to the Xechivoy Primary School. Along the way I observed residents going about their day: hanging laundry, selling refreshments and fruit from beneath the arched doorways, and carrying baskets (some plastic some weaved) upon their heads. Some of them didn’t even use their hands to balance the cumbersome packages, despite the steep hills and their general lack of adequate footwear. One of our guides told us that this town is mostly Mayan and also monolingual, the latter simply meaning that they only speak one language.
Traditional Mayan dress still abounds here, characterized by intricately woven and brightly patterned wrap skirts, fashioned at the waist with a thick fabric belt and delicate flower blouses. The girls all have long, shiny and incredibly thick, chestnut-colored hair with big brown eyes. The boys wear a variety of clothing styles, though mostly jeans and t-shirts that resemble the clothing worn by a typical American teenager. They sprint excitedly up and down the streets with their companions, kicking balls and wrestling playfully.
The entrance to the school is filled with the pleasant smell of freshly laid pine needles, a welcoming gesture in this community. Everyone is smiling and the children are curious about their foreign visitors. Even the local kids who do not attend the school peak out from behind doorways and through windows to discover what the commotion is. We are greeted by the school principal, an attractive lady with long, wavy, hair that glints in the sun. She is wearing traditional Mayan garb and kisses each of our cheeks as we enter the schoolyard.
After explaining our schedule for the afternoon and welcoming us to her school, we are divided into groups to visit the classes that are currently in session. The first classroom is four to six year olds whose first language is a Mayan one. They are slowly learning Spanish, alongside their native language and are full of huge grins and shy giggles. The children have been divided into smaller groups at tables with various projects for them to complete. One group is learning how to make a traditional Mayan food, another group is gluing popsicle sticks to paper to illustrate their understanding of the counting system, and yet another group is squealing in delight as their teacher engages them in an educational puppet show.
The second classroom has older kids, mostly nine to ten year olds, who are learning about proper dental hygiene. Their teacher lectures on brushing effectiveness and then puts on a Spanish cartoon which depicts children attempting to resist the tiny plaque creatures that follow them in the countryside, plying them with candy and other sugary substances.
The last classroom is first grade and these children seem to be fluent in Spanish. They are also divided into “learning centers” where one group is clipping letters to spell vocabulary words and others are learning colors and fruits. I walk over to a group of three girls and two boys to introduce myself. One boy, named Antonio, quickly asserts himself as the “Dennis the Menace” of the group, smiling mischievously. He tells me the names of his friends and repeats mine in perfect English. He seems fascinated by my camera and asks me to take a photo of him and his pal, Oscar. After this, he takes a picture of me with my camera, which is perfectly centered.
When the classroom observations come to a close, the students gather us outside to put on a show. They sing their national anthem and recite poems. The pre-primary students pretend to play miniature plastic instruments and sing us a tune. The first grade class, dressed in grass skirts and feathers, act out a traditional Mayan story about a King who sends his men out to find the prettiest princess in the land. The King plans to sacrifice the chosen princess to the Gods, but the King’s men cannot go through with it and release her in the forest. She turns into a white orchid.
The final part of the show was a presentation by the students of folders containing some of their artwork to us. It was such a great experience and definitely one I won’t forget anytime soon. Part of what touched me the most was the fact that these children appeared to have very little, at least in the way of material belongings and the daily comforts and conveniences we take for granted, yet they are so full of life and eager to share a smile or two with anyone who takes the time to inspire one.
--Stephanie
