Esta es la historia de un gran señor llamado don HÉCTOR FERNÁNDEZ MORENO, mi abuelo. Inspirado en mi afecto y admiración por este caballero le estoy presentando esta pieza de literatura. No intento hablar extensivamente acerca de su vida, pero si compartir con Ud. algunas de mis memorias acerca de él. Espero que Ud. disfrute leyendo este ensayo tanto como yo disfruté escribiéndolo. Cuando escribí la historia, traté de separarme del ambiente Escandinavo en el que vivo en Minnesota, para así poder trasladarme a la atmósfera Española, colonial de Cuilco, Huehuetenango en donde esta historia toma lugar. Espero que hice un buen trabajo en recordar memorias que familiares y amigos de don Héctor puedan volver a vivir. Descanse en paz el Señor Fernández, mejor conocido como "papá yeto" o "pa'tio".
Don Héctor nació y creció en Cuilco,
Huehuetenango . Este es un paradisíaco pueblo en el antiplano de
Guatemala. Fue allí que don Héctor formó su familia. El contrajo nupcias con doña Rosario Anzuéto de Fernández con quién procreó tres hijos: Yolanda, Beatriz y Vicente. Yo, soy el hijo de Yolanda y el segundo nieto de don Héctor.
Durante los años 60 a los 70, Cuilco era un pueblo muy pequeño y aislado. No había electricidad, desagües o carros, sin embargo, la gente era muy feliz. Había un verdadero sentido de amistad. Las puertas de todas las casas en el poblado estaban abiertas de par en par para el visitante. Era una práctica muy común entre los cuilquenses ir a ver a los amigos y parientes. Este fue el tiempo en el que se hablaba de trivialidades, asuntos importantes o simplemente era una oportunidad para chismear. Al visitante siempre se le ofrecía una taza de café, pan dulce o comida.
Fue en esta atmósfera rural y familiar, que el principal personaje de mi historia creció. No esta demás decir que por su particular personalidad don Héctor asimismo contribuyó para hacer a Cuilco aún más especial. Pa'yeto era muy amigable y un gran trabajador, sus días se iniciaban entre las 4 a las 5 de la mañana y no se terminaban si no hasta las 7 o las 9 de la noche. Recuerdo especialmente los días de
la molienda , estos eran los más ocupados del año ya que el trabajo se tenía que terminar a tiempo. El jugo de la caña de azúcar se exprimía para hacer panela. Mi abuelita Chaíto, también trabajó duro para que la comida del abuelo y el resto de trabajadores estuviera lista. Ella hacía pishtones, frijoles volteados y tortillas. La comida se devoraba durante el desayuno y el almuerzo; pienso que comiendo en el campo fue la parte más emocionante de ayudar a pa'yeto. La comida siempre fue deliciosa, parecía como que si hubiera sido un exótico manjar.
En parte yo tenía esos pensamientos por lo mágico del ambiente, el aire fresco, y el cantar de las tortolitas y los gorriones que se encontraban alrededor. Pa'tio comía y hablaba del trabajo que ya se había hecho y del que se iba a hacer, y por supuesto también alimentaba a los perros.
Don Héctor en la madrugada, en cama, acostumbraba a tomar café o chocolate caliente con pan dulce. El decía "come ahora que todavía puedes". Comer fue uno de sus más grandes placeres. El también disfrutaba invitando gente para comer en la casa. Don Yeto creía que las mejores conversaciones eran las que se tenían en la mesa de comer. "El Tarzán" y el resto de la jauría también tenían su propio festín ya que el abuelo los alimentaba allí mismo en el comedor. Los perros movían sus colas y miraban a don Héctor como agradeciéndole el buen gesto de alimentarlos. A él le gustaban sus perros por que lo acompañaban a sus propiedades de Chepito y Ixpatxtangüí .
En el trabajo don Héctor siempre estaba en control, él sabía como mandar a sus trabajadores, la clase de trabajo que él quería que ellos hicieran, etc. El se sentía muy orgulloso que sus cañaverales eran uno de los mejores de la región. Yo estoy deacuerdo, la caña de azúcar de su plantación era la más alta y jugosa.
Chupar caña de azúcar fue un placer, especialmente al medio día, el cual era el más caluroso del día. No se por seguro las dimensiones de la plantación, lo único que sé, es que disfruté caminado a lo largo y ancho de la propiedad. Bilo, el más fiel de los trabajadores del abuelo conocía como la palma de su mano la plantación. El me enseñó los atajos para llegar allí. Recuerdo especialmente uno en el cual teníamos que cruzar el "Río Sosí". Este fue el más emocionante por que en él nadamos. El agua era fría y no muy profunda, con muchas rocas alrededor; además de la diversión de nadar y refrescarnos posponíamos por un rato el trabajo en la galera.
"Tío Lech", Apolonio y el resto de la cuadrilla seguían de cerca sus ordenes. Todo el mundo tenía algo específico para hacer. Aún las mulas: la celestina, el macho, y la tortolita sabían que don Héctor hablaba en serio, ellas movían sus colas y orejas para mostrar que estaban listas para transportar los pantes de panela a la "casa grande". La panela se vendía especialmente durante los fines de semana. Estos eran días muy importantes para papá "yeto". El disfrutaba mostrando a sus clientes la buena calidad de su producto, creo que su placer más grande era cuando finalmente cerraba un negocio y ponía el dinero en su bolsillo. No creo que el era un avaricioso, pero sí un hombre que le gustaba sentir que había hecho un buen trabajo. Vendiendo la panela él obtenía el mensaje de aprobación de la buena calidad de su producto. El también disfrutaba el regateo envuelto en la transacción, pues de esta manera conocía mejor a sus clientes.
Don "yeto" hablaba de muchas cosas, pero especialmente acerca del tiempo y como este iba a afectar las cosechas. Por supuesto, hablar del tiempo fue un tema muy popular entre los agricultores.
Los fines de semana la gente en el pueblo se vestía con sus mejores galas y don Héctor no fue la excepción. El se vestía con camisa y pantalones kakis, reloj de cadena, y por su puesto sombrero; lucía tan elegante como un general de cinco estrellas en un desfile militar. Todo el mundo en la casa se levantaba temprano para ir a misa en la única iglesia Católica del poblado y, después de misa, se compraba carne para hacer cocido. Este era una sopa de vegetales que se comía durante el almuerzo. Pa'tio sudaba cada vez que tomaba su sopa caliente y chupaba los huesos de la carne. En la cocina, la sirvienta "la Ramona" se encargaba que los comensales tuvieran suficientes tortillas calientes. De vez encuando la abuela se levantaba de la mesa para estar segura que todo marchaba bien.
En la cocina había una estufa de leña (poyo) que calentaba todo el cuarto y hacía que los sirvientes de la casa corrieran de un lado para otro para mantener viva la flama. Las paredes ahumadas de la cocina eran testigos de lo duro que se trabajo allí. No se por que razón las paredes se mantuvieron ahumadas. Pienso que el abuelo creía que como en una buena pipa es el carbón el que hace la diferencia por la buena calidad.
El abuelo fue un católico muy particular. El no iba a la iglesia con tanta frecuencia como el resto de la población, pero atendía los servicios religiosos que se ofrecían por un bautismo o casamiento. El no objetó que la abuela se involucrara en actividades de la iglesia. Recuerdo que ella perteneció a una hermandad. No se por seguro cuales fueron las actividades de esta hermandad, pero sí recuerdo la vestimenta. Las hermanas se ponían un pañuelo morado en la cabeza, rosario en el cuello y vestido largo y obscuro. En casa doña Charrís tenía la figura de San Andrés como el protector de la familia.
Honestamente creo que aún el abuelo tenía a San Andrés como su protector. Varias veces lo observé mirando de reojo al santo como pidiéndole un milagro.
Aunque el abuelo no practicaba ortodoxamente las enseñanzas de la iglesia católica, él mantenía buenas relaciones con sus miembros. Se relacionaba con el clero y daba diezmos a la iglesia. El padre Tomas nunca desaprovechó una oportunidad para sermonear a don Héctor acerca de lo que debiera de ser un buen católico. Por su puesto él nunca cumplió con esas expectaciones. Finalmente, la iglesia se dio por vencida de hacer de don Héctor un "buen cristiano". Los fines de semana la mayoría de la gente iba a la iglesia, pero don Héctor se dirigía al mercado. El mercado se encuentra al lado de la iglesia.Los Domingos eran días de mercado en Cuilco. Este era el tiempo en que se compraba para el resto de la semana la comida y los utensilios para el hogar. Al mercado venían vendedores de los poblados vecinos y hasta de tan lejos como Totonicapán.
En el mercado don Héctor disfrutaba platicando con todo el mundo. Este siempre estaba lleno de gente y mercaderías, parecía como una explosión de colores y olores. Allí habían carnicerías, vendedores de vegetales, gallinas, cerdos, ropa y monturas para caballos.
En la tarde algunos de los vendedores y mucha de la gente de las aldeas bebían "compuesto". Este también fue el tiempo para que la abuela vendiera su licor clandestino. Los beodos bebían como si no iba haber más alcohol en el mundo. Ellos se transformaban totalmente, los hombres hablaban y escupían, y las mujeres lloraban.
Aún estoy sorprendido por los cambios que el alcohol causa en las personas. Nunca vi al abuelo beodo, sin embargo, me dijeron que él bebió por algún tiempo.
Al final del día de mercado fue también especial para la jauría del pueblo. Estos eran la cuadrilla de limpieza que recorrían de arriba para abajo el mercado en busca de comida.
No podría terminar esta historia sin antes mencionar algunos de los famosos dichos de pa'yeto: "dime con quién andas y te diré quién eres", "nunca gastes más dinero del que puedes ganar", "no importa cuanto dinero ganas, lo que importa es cuanto dinero gastas", "sí tus problemas tienen solución de que te preocupas, y sí no tienen de qué te preocupas".
No cabe duda que don Héctor Fernández Moreno fue un gran señor que supo ganarse el cariño y respeto de aquellos que lo conocieron.
I was born in Huehuetenango, a city located along the ridges of the Sierra de los Cuchumatanes, the highest mountain chain of Guatemala, with altitudes of 4,000 meters. Huehuetenango has a varying climate that ranges from deep cold to hot and humid. Several rivers originate in the area here, like the rivers Selegua, Cuilco, Chixoy and Salinas. A large number of the inhabitants of Huehuetenango are of Mayan descent, mainly from the ethnic group of the Mam. Along with the Mam, the Chuje, Kanjobal and Jacalteca Indians share the territory around Huehuetenango. The department of Huehuetenango is politically divided into 31 municipal districts that differ especially in how people dress. In Huehuetenango people are generally farmers, shepherds or artisans who manufacture textiles, guitars, fireworks, pottery and baskets. They also cultivate corn, potatoes, wheat, barley, coffee and sugar cane. The main religion is a mixture between the ancient Mayan religion and some Christian elements.
During the Classic period (250 - 900 AD), Huehuetenango was part of the Mam Kingdom, which ruled most of the western highlands until the Quiches forced them into Huehuetenango, where the Mam were attacked in 1525. The region of Huehuetenango has a background of liberalism and rebellion and it proclaimed its independence before it became an official matter. Zaculeu, the ancient capital of the Mam Maya group, lies on the banks of a stream in the Cuchumatan Mountains. The site contains a ball court and several temples that show the architectural influence of the Mexican highlands. The buildings seen today, date back to the Maya Post-classic Period, although the original settlement goes back to the 5th Century A.D.
My father, Napoleon Castillo Samayoa was born in San Idelfonso Ixtahuacan, Huehuetenango. Ixtahuacan is a town of pre-hispanic origin, inhabited by natives of the group Mam, its original name was Itcal. In the middle of 1,525, according to the story of the columnist Sources and Guzmán, the warriors of Ixtahuacán participated in the defense of the fortress of Zaculeu, under the command of Kaibil Balám, the most important leader Mam.
My mother, Yolanda Fernandez de Castillo is from San Andrés Cuilco.
Cuilco is a small town located in the western part of the department of Huehuetenango. Cuilco is one of the oldest towns of Huehuetenango, first founded by the Indian Mames and subsequently by the Spaniers during the conquest.
I was raised in Cuilco.It seems I am a million light years away from my boyhood in Cuilco, Guatemala. I was born on December 18, 1956, on the day in 1863 when slavery was abolished in the US., and when Fidel Castro's small army overthrew the Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista in 1959. These events, however were far away from the everyday life in Cuilco. In Cuilco still there are cobblestone streets.
And there are tile (teja) roof houses.
Cuilco is surrounded by two rivers, Rio Grande and Rio Sosí.
My favorite memories as a young boy were the hot summer days, sometimes as high as 30 degrees Celsius, when I would swim and fish these two pristine rivers. The water was clean and fresh and fragrant with the odors of the exotic jungle. Time stretched on forever during those days on the rivers. I felt unrestrained and powerful. I was in control. I could jump and run and even scream without fear that anyone would stop me. I was free!
In a little town with no electricity, and no places of entertainment, socializing under the stars was serious business. For three or four hours every night people got together to tell scary stories in the Central Plaza.
The children sat around listening to the adults tell terrifying tales about the devil and evil people. The devil was watching us, and if we weren't good, he would come to snatch us away. The trip back to my home was even scarier than the stories. I saw demons and heard voices everywhere. I prayed to God for help, and ran as fast as I could to the safety of my house. I promised myself I'd never go back to story telling night again, but I always broke my promise. There was no thrill like that of being scared half to death.
My family never had many material things when I grew up, but I never felt deprived. I remember our horse back trips to the neighboring town of San Idelfonzo. The trip was about three to four hours. I enjoyed these trips, but the preparation for them was very hectic. Everybody got busy. My mother cooked black beans and made corn tortillas. My father took care of the luggage and budgeted the little money we had to spend for the trip. I fed the horses with corn and salt, rubbed their backs, and talked to them about the trip.
I was sure they understood me when they looked at me and waved their tails and ears. The night before, we went to bed early, so we could be up at 4:00 in the morning. My mother was the first to wake up to make us breakfast. We had black coffee, sweet bread, black beans, eggs, cheese and, of course, corn tortillas, the Guatemalan national dish. It was a real banquet. We didn't talk much. Maybe we were a little nervous about going to the "other world." In a way it was true because in my country people don't travel much and going on a four hour journey was a big deal. The good bye was a real ceremony: we hugged, kissed and cried with each other. It seemed like even the animals got involved; the dogs barked, the birds sung, the rooster crowed, the frogs croaked, the crickets chirped. It was grand and a little sad, like giving the last respects to the dead in a funeral. But it was really more to follow custom than to express real feelings.
After the sentimental good bye, we were finally on the road.
The scenery was wonderful. The cool air of the morning warmed quickly as the sun struggled up. These trips were a real adventure for me, especially crossing the rivers. To my vivid imagination, it seemed like the rivers talked to us. They greeted us with wild and loud waves and splashed our tired bodies with cool water. These times were magic for me. As I recall them now, I feel transported to another dimension.
Half way to San Idelfonzo, under the shadow of a tree, we had lunch.
My father lit the campfire to reheat the food. I don't know if the food was delicious because we were starving or because my mother is a good cook, but we enjoyed the meal a lot. We didn't talk much, but just ate. Sorry mother! We never thought much about your hard work to provide us with such a delicious meal. In Guatemala is a "macho" society where, the men assume that women are there to serve them, so they don't have to acknowledge their hard work. However, my life experiences since have made me more aware of the important role that women play in the society, and the damage that machismo does to everyone.
By the time we made it to San Idelfonzo, we were hungry again! We went straight to my father's favorite cafeteria, "Maria." This cafeteria was a crowed little place with no more than ten tables but over 100 people being served at a time. There we met other travelers from other villages with whom my father shared stories and information. They told us the names of the stores with the best products and lowest prices. Everybody was an expert! In spite of the apparently good time everyone was having, we all basically wanted to run our errands and go back home. Even though everyone was only away from home for 4 to 6 hours, they already were missing their families.
The owner of the cafeteria, Doña Maria, was also the cook. She had two employees. Teresa cooked the tortillas, and Jacinta washed the dishes. The menu was small, but the food was cheap. The choices were just chicken soup, tortillas, lemonade and hot sauce, for about 50 U.S. cents. The best part of the meal was unlimited tortillas. What a deal!
Finally, we were ready to run our errands. We usually went to the hardware store first because we had more things to buy there than in the drugstore. We bought grease, nails, screws, cement, staples, paint, cement blocks, etc, and my father paid for everything up front. From the drugstore my father purchased aspirin, antacid, bandages, vapor rub and laxatives. I hated laxatives! In Guatemala people medicate themselves and laxatives are the most popular medicine to take. They believed that the stomach is the cause of all diseases, and my father was no exception. He blindly believed in the healing power of laxatives. The laxatives themselves weren't really too bad, but not being able to eat for a whole day was the worst part. Guatemalans believe that in order to get help from the laxatives, the stomach must be empty. I now doubt this is true, but I guess that even with strong scientific evidence to the contrary, my father wouldn't have changed his mind. It is hard, if not impossible, to change the minds of rural people.They follow old traditions and are skeptical about modern technology.
By late afternoon we were ready to return. Because we were so tired, the trip back wasn't much fun. We just wanted to get back home and have a good sleep. Of course, my mother was waiting for us with another hot and delicious meal. During the meal we talked about what happened on the trip, the people we met, and the high prices. Complaining about the high prices was the favorite topic for my father. Even though I'm sure we got good prices, he always complained about it. I am not sure if he did it just to spice up the conversation or to tell us not to ask for more money. Who knows?
My mother just listened and made tortillas. She seldom interrupted my father to say anything. In my country women are educated to serve men, and are shy and obedient. In Guatemala, I didn't think much about. It was part of the culture and nobody questioned it. However, my travels else where and my experience living in the USA have broadened my views. I believe that both women and man must have equal opportunities to meet their individual needs.
I attended an elementary school in Cuilco run by catholic nuns.The education was very strict, and was supposed to make us into obedient little children. However, I guess I was the exception. When everybody was scolded to behave and do their assignments, I was left free to do pretty much whatever I pleased. I never was punished when I skipped school or didn't do my homework. I even made up stories to justify my bad actions. My teachers threatened me with punishment, but I didn't believe them, because they didn't show any anger in their faces.
My teachers tolerated my behavior because I was their favorite student. But I wonder why? I don't think I was much different than the other kids. We were the same age, and from the same social and economic background. The only reason I can come up with is that they liked my extroverted personality. I was friendly and outspoken. I actively participated in games and social gatherings. I could be a clown who made people laugh, or a critic who would speak out if I didn't like something. I wasn't mean but I got my point across. For example, if a kid was bugging me, I had no reservations about looking straight into his eyes and telling him to stop. I didn't spend much time discussing the issue, but I delivered my message. I guess my teachers liked that because I showed a sort of maturity. The other kids were more into yelling and fighting to settle their differences.
The time I spent in elementary school was the happiest in my life. I was the leader of a bunch of children who followed me wherever I went. We'd go to the rivers to talk, fish and swim.We had fun talking about anything, from trivialities to serious business. Everybody had something to say and we openly shared our thoughts.
For me, being in touch with nature, being by the rivers, was important. The times when I skipped school to go the rivers I was aware that I was breaking a rule but this only enhanced my pleasure. I knew that I wasn't going to be punished anyway. When my teachers told my parents about these incidents, they also talked about my good achievements in the school. They said that I was smart and I was just going through a hard time in my life. My father didn't quite buy it. He yelled at me and assigned extra chores. However, I had the support and sympathy of my mother as well as my teachers. She personally helped me or assigned somebody else to help me. Anyway it wasn't too bad. I usually got away without much punishment.
My elementary school was located next to the market. Old folks in town said that the school was built where Virgin Mary appeared to a peasant. Of course, everybody believed it because the entire population was catholic. The school was the center of the social life in town. National holidays were celebrated there which everybody in town attended. The students performed plays and sang songs. Their parents were proud of them and praised them. Both girls and boys did their best to impress everyone and to show that we were smart. I got actively involved in this. I don't think I am or I was ever a talented actor. However, my teachers and parents congratulated me all the time. Most of the time I wasn't aware of my mistakes. Sometimes I even believed that I was really good.
My most embarrassing moment on the stage was when I forgot my lines. I blushed and stumbled and didn't know what to do. Finally, I just improvised in my own words. This embarrassing moment was even harder to take because I wanted to impressed Juanita, the most beautiful girl in the school. When the play was finally over, I just wanted to vanish. I was really embarrassed. However, I got a lot of support from my parents and teachers. They appreciated my efforts and encouraged me to continue. They said that that happened even to the best actors. I didn't quite believe it, but that helped change my mind to stay in town. I still didn't have the guts to face Juanita again. That was the beginning and the end of my big romance with her.
Everybody knew everybody in our little school of 150 students.We were like a big family, related either by blood or by friendship.Of course, like in any social group we had our differences even to the point of fist fights. However, we settled our problems pretty quickly with families or friends intervening to bring us together again.Talking about school was a favorite way to trace the past and compare the present for my father and grandfather. They also attended this school and, of course, in their time everything was better. They said the students in their time really learned, were more respectful and worked harder than the kids in my time. They said that we didn't want to learn and we also had no respect for our teachers. They were grateful to their teachers. They said that thanks to the severe discipline of their teachers they were good citizens. They were very proud that they could still remember what they learned in school, and to prove it, they asked me some questions. I never answered a right one. This supported their belief about the superiority of the education in their time. What days...! I would like to go back to these days. I really had fun.
Colegio De la Salle was my high school, a catholic school run by the Christian Brothers De la Salle. It was located in Huehuetenango, which had a population of 150,000 in 1970. The city and the people were total unfamiliar to me. This was a place with cars, electricity, running water and flush toilets, facilities which Cuilco didn't have. My student life in Colegio De la Salle was very different than my life in my elementary school in Cuilco. I still had to wear an uniform and go to church on Sundays but my teachers were not at all the same.They treated me differently, actually, they ignored me completely. I wasn't the focus of the their attention anymore. Most of them were from the United States. They were cold, they didn't talk or smile much, and it seemed like they weren't interested in their students. I don't know if it was because I wasn't use to seeing Caucasians or because I was prejudiced against them (or they against me). They didn't speak good Spanish, so it was hard to understand them. However, nobody dared to complain about it. There were severe consequences for anything from lateness to low academic achievement. There were physical punishments such as push ups, carrying stones, digging holes, etc. These punishments just humiliated and put the students down, and served no worthwhile purpose. These rules just made me angry and more rebellious. In a certain way it was enjoyable to challenge the rules. It was like playing cat and mouse to see if they could catch me breaking a rule. I remember skipping a parade by hiding myself in the bathroom. I was scared but glad to avoid a boring parade. My friends congratulated me for getting away with it. They saw in me something that they would like to do but didn't dare try. I was willing to take the chance they couldn't bring themselves to do.
My high school days were stressful. The school was very competitive and expensive. I was aware that my parents were investing a big chunk of money on my education, and I couldn't afford to fail or I would disappoint them. I had no choice but to succeed. There were daily quizzes to get points to be one of the ten best students of the month. Every month, along with the report card, the school sent home a printed list with the names of the best students. This list was also posted in the school boards, and these students were automatically the most popular people in the school. Everybody wanted to make the list. Even if I made it, I wasn't proud about it because I didn't like the testing system. I believed then, as I still believe, that this particular testing didn't encourage creativity but rewarded boring repetition. The best students were the ones who repeated word for word what the teachers said. We were treated like empty jars to be filled up with the "knowledge" of the teachers. However, I never spoke out. I had my own way to deal with my feelings. My philosophy teacher once suggested that I go into construction work, or any other work where I didn't have to use my brain, because he didn't like my own interpretation about a school of philosophical thought. I said nothing but just studied hard, to show this teacher that he was wrong and I wasn't stupid. I memorized every single word, period and comma in the book. I passed the written and oral examination with flying colors. I beat the odds, and became the best student of the month. I couldn't believe my teacher's reaction. Not long before he had suggested that I was a " good for nothing." Now he said that I was a good example of academic improvement. He took total responsibility for my success. "Hector", he said, "you weren't doing, the right things, you just needed a little push. I gave you this push and now we can see the results, you are the best student in the class..." I didn't say anything.
I think I am primarily the product of the influence of my elementary and secondary teachers. My personality was shaped by their different approaches to my education. I was more rebellious in the elementary school than in high school because my elementary teachers in a certain way nurtured this behavior; they were more open to listening to me than my teachers in high school. My high school teachers didn't pay much attention to me. It was hard to take, but I finally adapted to my new environment. I learned to be flexible, and to adjust to any kind of new situation. The social and economic setting was also different in both schools. Most of the students in my elementary school came from lower middle class farming families. On the contrary, most of the students in my high school came from wealthy families. My high school was supposed to be just for wealthy students, but a few low income students like myself were also enrolled. The parents of the wealthy students owned factories and big stores in town. They drove cars or rode bicycles to the school. On the other hand, I walked all the time. This situation made me appreciate the effort of my parents in providing me with the best education available. I graduated from high school in October, 1975. This was one of the happiest days of my life. I wasn't so much happy because of the graduation itself, but because of the fact that I was finally going getting away from the sick school environment.
College education is really just a dream for most of the Guatemalans, but thanks to the financial support of my parents, I made my dream of higher education come true. I went to the University of St. Carlos, a public university located in the city of Quetzaltenango. My reaction to the city and college was even more of a shock than high school. Quetzaltenango is the second largest city in Guatemala (in 1976 there were 500,000 people), and is the industrial center of the country. Pollution from factories and cars was horrible. What a change from the fresh and pure air of Cuilco! It was so hard to breath in this city that sometimes I just wanted to be back in Cuilco. However, I had no choice but to stay.
The university itself was a totally different experience for me. There were 20,000 students, and it seemed to me that everything there was in total chaos. Professors and students smoked and swore in the classroom. It was the cool thing to do. According to these people their smoking and swearing showed their "freedom." In a dictatorial system like the one in Guatemala of the 1970's any expression of "freedom" was highly prized.
Coming from strict catholic schools I was used to being pushed to do my tasks. However, in college my professors didn't care much about assignments. The students were free to do whatever they wanted. In the beginning it was hard to adjust to this new approach to "education", and I was confused. I didn't know what to do or where to go to ask for help. However, I knew that I had to make it. I had a lot of pressure to succeed from my parents and friends. I was the first in my family to go to college. My friends often asked my parents how I was doing, so my mother and father wanted to know everything. I couldn't tell them everything because I was afraid to let them know that my experience in college was a total mess and that I was lost..! I didn't want my parents to know the truth and stop supporting my education.
In spite of all these problems, I had the burning desire to succeed, and it was this good attitude toward college that helped me to overcome any obstacles. I met people who helped me and inspired me to keep pursuing my education goals. I met Maria, who was also from a small village and who also had a burning desire to make it in college. We helped each other. After class we would compare and discuss our notes. Her help made my second quarter in college much easier. I didn't get an "A" but at least I passed all the subjects. When my parents got the good news they were extremely proud of me.
The next quarter I was more familiar with the system and so relaxed that I even had time to chase girls. I broadened my social life. I met more interesting people from Guatemala and even from neighboring countries. The good ones helped me to direct my life toward my educational goals. They were committed to their studies, paid attention in class and took good notes. Usually they were married with children and didn't want to waste their time. They just wanted to get their degrees and improve the lives of their families. Making more money and improving their social status were their main goals. The bad influences came from students who were more interested in partying and protesting than homework. They drank, smoked and were involved in politics. I didn't smoke or get involved in politics, but I started drinking alcohol.
Drinking in Guatemala is a "macho business." People drink to get drunk. They don't accept people who don't drink when they are drinking. I didn't have money to buy drinks but that wasn't a problem.We always managed to find a way to get a buzz. Some students made in home their own alcohol and shared it with the rest of the group or some students with extra spending money paid for it. In the beginning it was fun to drink. I felt important discussing even stupid things. Under the influence of alcohol, every discussion seemed to be about important issues.
In the beginning it was fun to drink because the alcohol didn't seem harmful to my health but as days went on I started having hangovers. It was awful! I had headaches and stomach pains. I couldn't eat. Alcohol wasn't fun anymore. But thankfully, even though I was drinking I always took care of my studies. My GPA went up and down but I passed all my classes. My father started suspecting my drinking. He said nothing but I sensed it. His subliminal messages were clear. For example, one day, without any notice and without any apparent reason he just showed up in my apartment. Fortunately I was sober. Without accusing me of anything, he lectured me about the harm of drinking. I got his message, and I quit drinking cold turkey. As a consequence of that I lost my "friends." They couldn't accept me in their group, because sober people weren't allowed. First, they tried to pursued me to change my mind. Then, when that failed, they started making fun of me. But once I decide to stop drinking, nothing was going to make me to change. I didn't want to go back to the same hell. I guess this experience made me more mature and responsible. It gave me strength to say "NO." I learned to do things for myself and not just to please people so they would accept me.
Even though higher education in Guatemala is a privilege, not everybody who has the chance of going takes advantage of it. In my university some students just played around. Higher education was only an excuse for them to look for a good prospect for marriage or was an opportunity to fool themselves by playing the role of political reformers. Indeed, college students in Guatemala had and still have the reputation of all being socialists. The college bears some responsibility for this stereotype because the students are indoctrinated with socialist-communist propaganda. In class, we read Marx and Engels and the Russian and Cuban political systems were glamorized. Consequently, the students were ready to fight the government and the private sector. Some students just talked about changing the political, social and economic state in the country, and it seemed to me that these students were just criticizing the same system that they wanted to be in. By attacking the government and businessmen they just showed their own jealousy for the economic and political power they dreamed to have some day but were unable to get because of their lack of money and influence. College education became a path to reach their political and economic goal, not to change society. When they graduated they went straight to work for the government and in business. When they were students they were sympathetic with the exploited class, but once they became doctors, lawyers, nurses, etc, they never worked in areas where people needed them but couldn't afford to pay their professional fees. On the other hand, some students, quite a few actually, were either totally "brainwashed" or were true believers in their political ideologies. They took more extreme measures and joined the guerillas to fight the government and people in power.
This civil war was senseless with both the government and the guerillas killing and kidnapping innocent people. The government backed "death squads" that shot students on campus. They didn't even bother to check the background of the students to see whether or not they were involved in any activity against the government. In Guatemala to be educated was reason enough to be killed. Education was a death sentence, actually. The guerillas struck back by killing civilians suspected of cooperating with the government or randomly killing any police officer at sight. According to Amnesty International this civil war has caused 30,000 deaths and almost the total destruction of the economy of the country.
I didn't take any political stand in college because at this time the theory of economic exploitation didn't make much sense for me.I grew up in a little village were everybody had pretty much the same economic resources. They were farmers who worked the land to provide themselves with the bare necessities of life. Compared to the people in the cities who were more concerned with luxuries such as TV's, VCR's, cars, etc, the people in the village were just happy to have something to eat and something to put on. In the country, if it wasn't a good harvest because of a drought, nobody complained. Instead, they helped each other. They accepted their fate as God's wish. On the other hand, city people were more willing to fight injustices because they saw the reasons for these injustices as something more than fate. An elite controls all economic and political power in Guatemala. This elite live in mansions while the large percentage of the population live in slums. And this elite would do anything, no matter how cruel, to hang on to their power.
In the middle of all this, I still had to decide what to do with my own life. I thought back to my happiest days in Cuilco, and to my own family there.
One of the people I most admired growing up was my grandfather. He was not educated beyond grade school, but was bright and resourceful. He studied the law on his own, and became, in effect, the village lawyer. People went to him for help with contracts and wills. He was an admired and respected person in our village, and I decided I wanted to follow his footsteps. I applied for admission to San Carlos Law School and, despite stiff competition, I was accepted. I buckled down and studied hard.
In July 25, 1981, I took and passed the final examination to become a Licenciado. I didn't want to fail it, and had studied for six months, putting myself under a lot of stress. I learned some relaxation techniques, and during the exam I was confident and secure. I didn't know all the answers, but I managed with some sort of explanation to the questions that I didn't know. Although in Guatemala the repetition of concepts is very important, my law school examiners appreciated my creativity, and my honesty in admitting the limits of my knowledge about these questions.
I have to come to the end of my story, and back to the beginning of this essay. The two qualities that have served me best are my ability to pursue dreams by hard work, and my ability to adopt when circumstances change. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined myself living in the United States, far from family and friends, language and culture. But I am determined to succeed here as a Court officer and maybe, someday, again as a lawyer.
Highlights of Qualifications
* Bilingual in Spanish and English as well as bicultural
* Excellent comunication skills
* Superior grades of 3.5 on the 4.0 scale
* US citizen, excellent health. Willing to relocate
* Computer literate
Education
Master in Social Work - University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, MN, USA, 1996
Master of arts in education - University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, MN, USA,1993
Bachelor of Arts - Universidad de San Carlos, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, 1990
Graduate Field Placement
La Familia Guidance Center, Inc.
Performed psychosocial assessments on clients.Organized and facilitated a weekly group on communication and social skills. Provided case management and located community resources for the clients assigned to me. Participated in staff meetings, in-services, and outside training events.
Workshops/Education
* Spencer Zeiger, Ph.D workshop. Racism in Education , St. Paul, MN.
* Spencer Zeiger, Ph.D workshop. Social Work Research, St. Paul, MN.
* Jill Wahman, MAPSE Conference. Introduction to Working with Persons with Brain Injury, St. Cloud, MN
* Tom Davis, MAPSE Conference. Chemical Dependence and Employment ,
St. Cloud, MN
* Thomas Allen Inc. In-service of Positive Behavior Support for Person With DD.,
Mpls, MN,
Work Experience
Ramsey County/Community Human Services Department
September,2000-Present
Probation Officer/Social Worker
Provide court-ordered probation supervision and services to children under the jurisdiction of Ramsey County Juvenile Court, resulting from delinquent acts or status offenses; perform need-assessments on individual family functioning; conduct interviews with adolescents, their families and relevant community agencies; manage case records for accuracy, complete formas and documentation in a timely manner; prepare needed documentation to the Juvenile Court (probation officer's reports, probation violations, special action requests, etc.) Appear in Juvenile Court on a regular basis to represent RCCHSD and present verbally and in writing recommendations for children ages 10-18 under the jurisdiction of the Juvenile Court for offenses including CHIPS, misdemenors and felonies.
Access to Employment
Feb-Sep/2000
Vocational Coordinator
Provide community-based employment services to program participants on an individual basis. Develop and maintain community placements and employer relations. Develop, implement and monitor progress of individual program plans.
St. Paul Public Schools
1993-1999
High school bilingual teacher
Identify students who need ESL services, and provide Spanish/English instruction in subject areas as reading and language arts.
My Philosophy of Teaching
References
Available Upon Request
Reserch Papers
MSW CLINICAL RESEARCH PAPER:
The effects of Transracial or Cross-cultural Adoption on the lives of White Parents.
RESEARCH PAPER:
An Introspection and Analysis of Guatemalan Education
RESEARCH PAPER:
Thomism Position of the Guatemalan Education System
TESIS al conferirseme el Grado Academico de LICENCIADO EN CIENCIAS JURIDICAS Y SOCIALES
El Trabajo Domestico en la Realidad Juridico Social de la Ciudad de Quetzaltenango
Contact Information
cuilco_2000@yahoo.com
Nació en El Tumbador,San Marcos el 23 de Enero de 1931, hija de Alfonso Rodrigo Trangay Ochoa y de Isabel Fernández de Trangay. Llego a la ciudad de Coatepeque, Quetzaltenango a la edad de 9 años.
Contrajo matrimonio con Alfonso Estrada, madre de cuatro hijos.
Mujer emprendedora, escribió desde muy joven artículos para diferentes revistas. Nunca se dedicó de lleno a escribir debido a su trabajo pero siempre lo hizo como pasatiempo.
Falleció el 9 de Septiembre de 1988 a los 57 años de edad.
NOVELA
(FRAGMENTO)
Aquella noche de viernes la familia Quemé permanecía congregada ene le patio trasero de la gran casa. Allí se llevaría a cabo una ceremonia especial que a nadie extrañaba, los sirvientes no ignoraban que periódicamente se practicaba esta costumbre.
Estaban allí los parientes más cercanos y algunos amigos a quienes se había invitado para compartirla. Mariana no estaba presente temerosa de que el frío de la noche y la falta de sueño pudieran perjudicarla.
El anciano Agorero, que como un sacerdote oficia en la ceremonia, cubre su cabeza con un pañuelo rojo con lunares blancos, anudado sobre la nuca. En un gran cazo de barro se había encendido un buen fuego de carbón de leña de encino que no lograba aminorar el frío, a su derredor permanecían de pie los asistentes que también cubrían su cabeza con pañuelos similares al del oficiante. Las mujeres se arrebujaban en perrajes de lana obscura.
Güeno, señores, vamos a dar principio a nuestra costumbre de limpiar la casa. Esta es la posada de nuestro hermano Martín quen quere rogar por mi boca a los espíritus de nuestros antepasados que se aposenten bajo su tejado y traiban con ello la salú y prosperidá
Estas gracias les seigan dadas a todos los presentes. Volviéndose hacia el fuego, con las manos extendidas elevó la voz en principio de su oración. - !Ay Dios ! Ay Dios! Ay Dios! Señor de todos los tiempos: vos que estabas desde el principio, formador del infinito...vos El oculta serpientes...! Varón creado que ya estabas escondido en el agua despejada que cubría el universo, cuando tovía nada estaba hecho. Ay...Jún Kú Oij (Sol en Lengua Ki-Che).Señor de la Luz! Dos Meradas Tojil Señor del Juego! Dos Meradas Kabawil, Señor del Agua!.. Shamukané, agüela de Jún Kú-Oij! Agüela del sol.
Señor de todos los tiempos!...Señor de todos los hombres que ya han venido y de los que faltan por llegar!. Señor del Grande: Señor del Chiquito! Señor del que es Sabio, Señor del Atrasado, Señor del noble y güeno, Señor del Ruin y del Perverso! Señor del Ave que güela por el campo! Señor del Animal que brama y se esconde en el guatal acechando a la presa! Señor del animal que se arrastra y anida en la tierra! Señor del todo cuanto se ha hecho y de todo lo que falta por hacer!
Tomando puñados de azúcar y pétalos secos de flores blancas las derrama sobre el fuego, el aroma se esparcía en espirales de humo blanco.
Todos los asistentes en actitud de profunda humildad y respeto se pusieron de rodillas sobre esteras de pino verde, formando un círculo alrededor del fuego y del oficiante, levantó los brazos hacia el cielo, su voz fuerte y hermosa se elevó en fervorosa súplica dirigida a las Deidades de sus Ancestros, expresada en una mezcla de lengua Ki-Qué y Castellano.
- Ori-Kiej...! Ori-Niuk...! Ay Dios Mar Mundo ...! Ay Dios Laguna Mundo..! Ay Dios Cielo Mundo..!
Agregó al fuego, manojos de romero verde y pequeños cirios. Los asistentes se retiraron, formando el círculo alejados unos de otros, encendiendo cada cual su propio cirio. Las frases que brotaban de labios del anciano, eran como fragmentos de un gran poema, dedicado a la Creación; por quién sabe, qué ignorado poeta; quizá por un "porteador de Casa de Gradas". O tal vez por el mismo "Aj-Tzik" o un "Aj-Pop Oan Ja" de la Casa de Tigre, cuyo nombre sepultó la bruma del tiempo. Llama encendida y Eterna, plegaria ardiente dicha, frente a la Piedra Adorado en el Templo llamando: "Tzutujá Kilmá Kajbajá" perteneciendo a los Señores Ki-Ché; palabras que recogió el espíritu del viento que se transmiten de padres a hijos, como una sublime herencia. Para quien las escucha es como retroceder en el tiempo y retomar la Gloria perdida de una Raza que yace en el olvido y la ignorancia.
Finalmente la plegaria se hizo apasionada y violenta, con el grito triunfal del creyente, agregó el Pom y el Cuilco y el humo se levantó en grandes espirales, difuminándose en el viento y el espacio.
El Aj-Pop tomó un incensario de barro de manos de la dueña de la casa, colocó en él trozos del fuego y lo agitó sobre los asistentes, envolviéndose en su fuerte aroma. Los participantes lo acompañaron a través de habitaciones y corredores de todos los rincones de la casa, quedaron saturados por nubes de humo espeso y aromatizado.
Finalmente, los restos regresaron al fuego madre, agitándolos con su larga vara de cerezo verde, dijo los últimos salmos; el fuego ardería toda la noche, hasta extinguirse. Al amanecer las cenizas serían recogidas, para ser espaciadas en la corriente de un río alejando así, definitivamente el mal que pudiera habitar en la casa.
Termina la ceremonia, los asistentes se saludaron a las personas más jóvenes se inclinan frente a los mayores en una reverencia llena de profunda humildad y respeto, les toman la mano derecha poniendo sobre ella los labios; los así honrados responden colocando la mano izquierda sobre la cabeza inclinada murmurando en su lengua materna: "Los Grandes Señores te Guarden"
Reunidos en corrillos, pasaron al interior de la vivienda en donde les fueron servidas, bebidas calientes y pan, con lo cual se dio por terminada la reunión y todos se retiraron.
- Güeno Martín tu encargo ya está cumplido....! Alabados seigan los Grandes Señores...! la Adelina y yo vamos a estar más tranquilos. De aseguro que desde ágora, mija va a recibir verdaderos fluidos de salú y poco a poco la enfermedá se irá retirando.
No por esto olvides que hay que ir al monte, es güeno que allá se practique la costumbre de sanar los enfermos pero hay que priesentar a la muchacha, si no se hace ansina, será como secir !Nada! - asina será Tata. Nomás hay que esperar a que la patoja esté más alentadita para que pueda subir al monte.
- A qué lugar cree usted tatita que sería güeno ir?--
Mirá Adelina yo pienso que el mejor lugar es el Encanto de Trece Ventanas Mundo porque la muchacha está enferma. Allí a la verdá no es mucha la altura. Podés llegar en el carro hasta cerca del pueblo y aluego el camino monte arriba, serán apenas unas dos leguas....
-Sempre es bastante lo que hay que caminar a pata Tata Félix...!.- Sí se van tempranito, podrán hacer el camino dispacio y estar allá a la salida del Sol... Ya como a las diez estarán de güelta en el pueblo. - Ansina mesmo se hará, si no hay más remedio....!
