A few weeks back, one of my Guatemalan friends invited me to a party one of her friends. She was turning 15, the big quincenera. The only quinceneras I’ve been to have been at the orphanage, with 150 in attendance and the birthday girl in a beautiful prom gown, with many younger boys and girls assisting in the ceremony. I joined an American missionary to attend the quincenera. We left at 6:45 in the morning for a party that started at 9, for a teenager neither of us knew beforehand. This town where the party was held was a little over two hours (60 miles) away with Guatemalan roads, traffic, and mountains. It was a town I’ve never been to before. We drove through a few larger towns with some traffic, and then made our way across a dirt road, though the trees, with large potholes scattered across the road, weaving left and right to avoid the widest ones. Part of the way, construction workers were putting pavement down on the dirt road, blocking traffic for about 15 minutes for each direction. Several semi trucks and school buses aka chicken buses (main public transportation in Guatemala) were waiting there patiently to get through. We drove through windy mountains, open fields, dumps, and back alleys.
We arrived five minutes before 9 for one of the biggest parties of a young girl’s life. Being the American I am, I was a little (a lot) nervous to arrive shortly before the party’s starting time. We sat in the church, that sat about 60, for over a half hour playing I spy and using scrap receipts to draw and pass the time with the kids who were in attendance. The birthday girl walked in at 9:10, and most everyone showed up at 9:35, and the ceremony began shortly after. About 40 were in attendance, including those who were part of the ceremony.
The church doors were wide open, allowing anyone to come and go as they please. This included a street dog who spent most of the ceremony smelling underneath the dessert table and street vendors, selling anything from freshly cut mangos, nuts, or water bottles, to handwoven scarves, blouses, purses, or headbands.
There was a local band, a pastor that shared the message, and the birthday girl, dressed in a traje tipico, the Mayan skirt, blouse, and fabric belt that is traditionally worn today by Guatemalan women. It was a fairly short ceremony (by Guatemalans’ standards) lasting maybe an hour with a few songs, a message, friends sharing memories with the birthday girl, and a time of meet and greet for those in attendance. The ceremony was followed with lunch, a traditional meal consisting of pulled chicken, tamales, rice, mixed veggies, and of course, tortillas. To drink was the main refreshment of Guatemala, Rosa de Jamaica, tea made with hibiscus leaves.
Although we had never met the family, friends, or the birthday girl herself, they were all so welcoming to us Americans. The speakers of the party were welcoming each group to the party, even the gringos coming in, who were friends of a friend. They included us in conversation as if they’ve known us for years. With extra food to make sure everyone got their fill, we were sent home with about a dozen tamales and two full plates of food. We hopped back in the car and were back home by 3.
A few lessons can be taken from these 8 hours, or really 8 hours in Guatemala:
- When they say it begins at 9, be prepared to wait at least a half hour
- When going to an event, be prepared to be in the car for at least an hour or two, just for one way… another hour or so if there’s traffic, or if the road is covered with construction workers, broken down semis, or large potholes.
- Have something to do to pass the travel/waiting time: a game, a journal/book, or a friend to make conversation.
- No matter where you go in Guatemala, you are bound to cross paths with a street vendor and a stray dog.
- Bring: food, drink, and toilet paper. As waiting times get longer, dehydration sets in, rumbling begins, and supplies in a public bathroom are very limited. We were lucky this time: this one had a seat, a working flush, and a lid covering the tank.
(har)Perseverance on a mission 