Tag: Pachaj

• December 18, 2012

  Apocalypse Averted

  

  In the mountains of the Western Highlands of Guatemala, there is a little town called Pachaj. The four thousand people who live there are primarily K’iche’ — a Maya people who have cultivated these lands for thousands of years. Chickens wander through terraced gardens of squash and potatoes. The women wear brightly colored woven skirts and blouses; the men wear t-shirts or collared shirts. An advertisement for a cell phone service is painted on a wall near the school.

  On one of the many mountains that ring Pachaj, there is a holy site. A cross once stood here, but it was torn down, leaving only its concrete base. But the site is far older than that. Just a few yards away, a stone protrudes from the ground. It is covered in ancient Maya hieroglyphs.

  

  The stone is old. The markings are eroded and lichen has crept into the cracks and crevices. No one can read it and the mystery of the stone reminds me of how mysterious the Maya themselves are. This week marks the end of the 13th b’ak’tun of the Mayan calendar, an auspicious date for conspiracy theorists, New Age believers and Apocalypse junkies who believe that the world will end (literally or metaphorically) on December 21, 2012.

  As much as I hate to burst their bubble of misinformation, it simply isn’t true. Trust me, a real life Maya spiritual leader told me that the world isn’t going to end in 2012. Apocalypse averted.

  You see, the Maya do not believe in the end of the world, at least not in the way all those end of days documentaries like you to think. Their beliefs center around respect for all life; the celebration of life. Nothing in their oral or written traditions dwells on the apocalypse. The hysteria around 2012 is an invention of the West — an excuse to scare people, sell books and fill hours of program time on the History Channel.

  We would be wise to learn from actual Maya teachings (which I freely admit I only know a little bit about), which call us to respect one another and reflect on our lives and relationships. And on the morning of December 21, my friends in Pachaj will wake up, check their email and go to work on their looms like any other day.

  Don’t let dates and prophesies and sensationalists control you. Don’t let them scare you. Plan for the future, because December 21 will come and go and the world will go on undisturbed. Turn off the History Channel, go live your life, tell your friends.

  

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  Jonny Eberle (that’s me) is a writer, photographer and occasional world traveler in Flagstaff, AZ. Please comment, share, like and follow him (me) on the Twitter machine: @jonnyeberle.

  Related Posts:
  Guatemala in the Rear View Mirror
  Immortality and the Written World
  Xela Streetsong
  One Month After Guatemala
• March 19, 2012

  Guatemala in the Rear View Mirror

  

  Over the last week, I have slept on airport floors, careened down perilous mountain highways, laid my hands on the stones of Mayan ruins and gotten lost in a bustling market in a country three thousand miles from home. I was disoriented, culture-shocked and a little queasy, but the experience of traveling to Guatemala was incredible.

  For me, traveling outside of my comfort zone (literally) has always excited my imagination. How could a writer resist the exotic allure of such a mysterious place? In less than seven days, I wrote three short stories, took 11 pages of notes and snapped nearly 800 photographs. In the creativity department, I was on fire for the first time in months.

  (Side note: One of my new friends also tried to get me to marry his daughter, but that’s a story for another blog.)

  

  Still, inspiration wasn’t the only thing I found there. I also found a place bursting with untold stories. I heard stories of a 36-year war, of people who disappeared without a trace, of the specter of colonialism, of racism toward the indigenous Maya, of crushing poverty, of corporate oppression, of community, of the fight for women’s rights, of risking everything for a better life, of horrific violence and of spectacular beauty. I heard enough stories to fill fifty novels — and I intend to write them.

  

  But memory is an imperfect thing and for the past two days, I’ve been busy trying to capture my thoughts and observations in words before these vivid, visceral feelings crumble like the cathedrals of Antigua or the pyramids of Iximche. I want to tell these stories; I have to tell these stories. I have to tell them because Guatemala desperately needs to be listened to and because the written word is such a powerful agent of change.

  Guatemala’s struggles are the struggles of humanity and maybe the right words can wake a few people up to the continuing injustices there.

  I want to amplify the voice of a nation that has been silenced for too long. And maybe I’m naive to think a few well-turned phrases can bring an end to five hundred years of human rights violations and domination by foreign powers, but when you’re faced with a place so breathtaking and a people so warm and gracious, you can’t help but want to join their fight.

  I am not a powerful man. I can’t force multinational corporations to pay Guatemalans a fair wage for their work, nor can I bring about land reform or single handedly change a machismo culture that doesn’t value women. But I have a keyboard and a knack for wordsmithing and that has to count for something.

  Guatemala changed me. Now, it’s time to return the favor.

  

  P.S. – Some great resources to learn more about human rights issues in Guatemala:
  Nuevos Horizontes
  Grupo de Apoyo Mutuo (GAM)
  CEDEPCA
  EntreMundos
  Voice of a Mountain
  The Art of Political Murder by Francisco Goldman

  A faith-perspective on my trip, complete with more photos than you can shake an tamalito at, and
  My Flickr Photostream, with more Guatemala photos.

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  If you’re into the whole Twitter thing, you might consider following me at @jonnyeberle, where I am occasionally witty and always opinionated.