Around 10:00am this morning, I found myself in a cemetery, watching a potential gang member’s coffin being pulled from a hearse surrounded by a crowd of surprisingly quiet mourners. Vultures soared in circles above us, concentrated in certain parts of the visible sky. I wondered what they could be scavenging for; the grounds were covered in mausoleums and tombs of varying sizes. None appeared to be accessible without the aid of some serious power tools.
As the mourners walked from the wide street cutting between virtual neighborhoods of mausoleums down the narrow corridor housing one of many long, tall walls of box-like tombs stacked at least ten high, the policia pulled away in their eponymous green pick-up truck.
Over the cheerful sounding but lyrically somber music that began to play,
Jacobo explained that police often escort fallen gang members and their loved ones from funeral home to cemetery to dissuade any rival gangs from attacking the mourners, which may include fellow gang members. He suggested we keep walking. I didn’t protest.
In the largest cemetery in Guatemala City, no one is buried underground. Anyone able to afford a space can house their remains, for eternity, in a variety of accommodations spanning from the very humble to the most ornate and pretentious imaginable. Some were larger than the homes I’d seen in small villages.
The average Guatemalan may opt to be put into one of the humble boxes, structured and quite similar in appearance to the post office boxes lining the wall of every post office in the US. Family members decorate the doors, filling what can only be described as a window box at the front with flowers, plants, crosses, and the like.
Wealthy families and ex-politicos alike, however, purchase a plot and build their ‘dream tomb.’ Every style of architecture can be detected throughout the cemetery. Greco-Roman pillars abound, as do the elaborate stone sculptures (generally religious in nature) so popular and prolific in Guatemala. Some are merely influenced by the colonial style found in nearby cathedrals; some appear to be complete mimicry. Some boast a more modern, contemporary face, with glass doors and asymmetrical lines. The wealthiest family in the city, owners of the largest cement business, built an Egyptian-style tomb, complete with stone Sphinxes atop it.
Visible from one side of the cemetery is the massive landfill beneath, the largest in Guatemala City. We stood and took it all in from between two smaller ‘homes.’ Hundreds of vultures circled high above it, and hundreds more rested on the treetops below us. Yellow trucks formed lines both in and out, dropping off refuse from every corner of the city.
Just barely visible were the tiny ant-like bodies rushing to each load deposited. Hundreds of families make their living off of the landfill, desperate vultures of another kind, scavenging for anything that could be re-sold for some meager income. Some children are even sold by their parents to work in one of the many landfills in the country, prized for their small size. Some children never leave.
Not long after, I stood peering down into the cavernous opening of the Congress building as a soft-but-rapidly-speaking aide provided an overview of the day-to-day activity in the building as well as some of it’s history. I quickly abandoned trying to understand him, asking Jacobo during pauses for a succinct translation instead.
As a group of schoolchildren sporting matching red jackets filed in around us, he explained that members of the public are able to sit in on active sessions, but as silent observers only. While the logic behind that rule is obvious, I couldn’t help but be amused at the irony; citizens as silent observers in Congress, citizens as silent observers in hundreds of years of exclusion at best, oppression and genocide at worst.
As we walked and drove around the city, Jacobo patiently answered my constant barrage of questions regarding safety, society, the military, politics, and of course- the upcoming elections. Among the things I learned today:
-Zona 9 and 10 were once considered quite safe, and are where most Guatemalans work and study. In recent years, crime has skyrocketed. The zonas are no longer considered safe as thieves target middle-class Guatemalans on their way to and from work, looking for cell phones, laptops, and other electronics.
-Sandra Torres, who divorced current president Alvaro Colom in order to run for president in September’s elections, has not yet been authorized by Congress to run. She is considered the most powerful politician in the country (more than Colom himself) and obviously knows it- she has already plastered the country with her picture and campaign slogan.
-Bus drivers who do not pay extortion money to gangs each month must have a death wish. There are often one to two shootings per day on the public buses in Guatemala, either while stopped or in transit, with equal brutality against passengers and drivers.
-The two gangs most active in the city are the Salvatrucha (Mara Salvatrucha 13, or MS-13) and Calle 18. Between 7 and 10 years ago, they reached an agreement where members would not attack each other in certain places- funerals and jails being two of those place. The agreement was broken several years ago and there was a slaughter of gang members at the prison; heads were severed and used as soccer balls. Needless to say, the truce has yet to be recovered.
-The military still holds an enormous amount of power in Guatemala today, despite being removed from executive office at the end of the civil war in the mid-1990’s. Speaking out against them in the press or any official forum is not only difficult, but can be dangerous as well.
Despite all of this, and despite the sometimes crumbling, sometimes dreary appearance of the city, there are things to celebrate. The former post office, still used in some capacity as such, now houses hundreds of dance and music classes offered for free to children found begging for money in the street. Instruments are provided for free, and the children put on performances and may even play in the program’s orchestra.
We visited an art gallery hidden away atop one of the many entrances to a shopping center. Walking through the center, we passed a number of hair and beauty salons either run by or catering to the gay/transvestite population, which Jacobo reports is very adept at staying out of sight due to societal pressure. The gallery housed a photography exhibit that chronicled street art/installations created by Alejandro Paz, entitled “Obras Publicas.” Some were thought-provoking, some puzzling.
Jacobo was a wonderful guide, and we covered many of the historic sites in Zona 1 over the course of the day. I noticed only two other groups of tourists in the city, unusual for a colonial capital with such rich history. Jacobo was also kind enough to drive me past La Limonada, the largest slum in Guatemala City, and through zonas 9 and 10. While it was clear that the city is very different from Antigua, we stayed out of the most dangerous zonas. At no point did I fear for my safety or worry that I was in danger.
Another talking point for Guatemala City- their central market has some incredible street food! Jacobo and I ate chiles rellenos (my first since arriving!) and dobladas. Chiles rellenos are chilies that have been stuffed with beef and deep fried. Ours were served topped with guacamole and a mild red salsa. Dobladas are tortillas filled with meat and cabbage, then deep-fried and covered with guacamole, salsa, and chopped onions and purple cabbage. I loved both of them, and washed them down with a licuado mixto (mixed fruit smoothie) from a plastic baggie with a straw sticking out.
We saw so many things today; I could easily fill up another three pages describing my experiences today! I'm so grateful to Jacobo for bringing me into the city (and safely back out of it!); while I understand that the places we didn't go today are vastly different from the places that we did, I still feel less intimidated by big, bad Guatemala City...
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