Parties & Pyramids

I’ve apparently committed a San Miguel social blunder. I got a call from Marcos, “Joanie just called me all upset. Apparently you are throwing a party the same night as she and Robert and she’s afraid that no one will come to her party. She told me she’s spent like $400 on this thing and it’s their last opportunity before they return to the states.”

“I hardly know them. I can’t imagine that our guest lists cross that much. Mine’s a pretty young crowd. And it’s my last opportunity for some time as well.”

“Can you call her? I told her you were really nice and could probably work something out.”

So I did. And I think I managed to convince her that we had only about a 5 person overlap so they could just go to her party first and show up to mine late. (God this is a small town.)

My party/open house, was supposed to run from 7:00 until 11:00. It ended at 3:00 and was a huge success. Over the course of the evening somewhere between 30 and 40 people showed up (some of whom I didn’t remember inviting) and there wasn’t a scrap of food left. Cynthia managed to bump into a table in the courtyard and knock over a large day-of-the-dead statue belonging to the owners. It shattered. Bryan ran off with the head. (Cynthia is going to replace the statue.) People seemed to have enjoyed the eclectic nature of the party as I invited older as well as younger people. Some of the younger brought their parents. At one point I sat on the edge of the fountain and looked around, smiling as I saw people engaged in conversation in every part of the house, making new friends. (I can’t remember when the last time was that I gave a party. Why did I stop?)

Yesterday Elena prepared lunch for Alex and me. She is turning out to be quite the cook when left to her own devices. We ate out in the sala and had meatballs, rice, green beans and a salad. After lunch, Alex did my Maya horoscope. He’s new to the process so it took about 3 hours. Here’s this guy that looks like he just stepped out of prep-school, studying to be a Maya priest. It blows me away.

I always thought that to lead a spiritual life one was supposed to lead a Christian spiritual life. But there is a dynamic quite different than that here in San Miguel. Spiritual events take place all over town and have less to do with a Christian doctrine and more to do with the power of the universe, following one’s path, things happen for a reason kind of stuff. Being a person of logic all my life, I look at all this very skeptically. “Hooroo Gooroo” stuff as my friend Robert calls it. (I have no idea if that is how it is spelled.) Burning sage, wearing Indian symbols, and talking about vortexes and crystals. I just don’t know. But I’m trying to keep an open mind.

Anyway, according to my Maya horoscope, I am a guardian of traditions and a builder of communities. That is my sacred path. And I have 76 spirits behind me right now, to help me (any number above 50 is hot stuff). Supposedly, anything that interferes with my pursuit of either should be eliminated from my life. Alex told his mother and then told me that she said, “Good, I’ve got many plans for him.” They left today for Guatemala, to continue their Maya training.

The other day I was sitting at my desk, doing Providian work, while Elena was watering the yard. A giant cockroach came charging under the front door right at me. I screamed like a girl scout and Elena came to my rescue. Between her broom and shoe (I was barefoot) she conquered my foe. I think a good Christmas bonus is in store for her.

Monday night I went to my first sweat lodge. Alex’s friend Clay, trained by Native Americans, invited Alex, Andrea and I as Alex’s birthday present. Clay (63 and built like a tri-athlete – he actually is) and his girlfriend (33 and beautiful) live in an amazing house above San Miguel. In the backyard was a handmade wooden dome-like structure over which we draped multiple blankets. Inside was a hole in the ground where the hot rocks (“grandmothers”) are placed. After a Celtic ruin ceremony we entered the pitch-black hut while Clay shoveled hot rocks from the fire into the hole in the floor of the lodge. There we beat drums and shacked rattles and chanted and sweat like I’ve never sweat in my life. After an hour or so, with Clay facilitating different prayers, giving thanks, etc., we plunged ourselves into the swimming pool for our post-lodge 30 minutes of silence. Then we attacked plates full of chilled fruit (which has never tasted so good in my entire life).

The next morning we met at 6:30 AM at Alex’s house. This was the day that the archeologist was to say “Thank you” for the fundraiser we helped put on for re-hiring workers who were laid off due to budget constraints. Six of us were privy to a private tour of the pyramid dig. (The pyramid is not scheduled to be open to the public for another two years.) An amazing experience. To be able to spend an entire day with the chief archeologist, ask as many questions as we wanted, climb all over the thing – where tourists will never be allowed - eating lunch with the workers heated on metal plates over open fires. I found it curious that the tour started with the ecologically correct toilets. They are divided so that the poo and the pee are captured in different tanks (with a sign sternly instructing you not to get pee into the poo tank). Where you pee, you spray vinegar when done, it then passes through a carbon filtration system and is released into the soil. The poo is collected for a year or so and then becomes fertilizer. (One is instructed to sprinkle dirt over the poo section when done.) So really, pee is worse than poo. Who would’ve thunk? I was curious to see the construction of the girl’s bathroom. I mean, wouldn’t the toilet design need to be a little different? I didn’t get up the nerve.