Missionaries of Charity, Antigua Guatemala, April, 2012

 

This is not that great of an image. Those nuns are amazingly spry and move extremely quickly, and my paltry skills in the moment failed me. The fact that I saw them at all (about a dozen of them all together, I really dropped the ball capturing that moment) nevertheless pleases me, and so I share his image with you.


The lack of recent posts is a breach of my commitment, here. I've meant to post daily. But I've been wrapped up in Spanish and not bringing my camera along as I ought these past four or five days, and too distracted by other things to write much. This wretched scandalous failure I heretofore vow to redress, my public. I recommence with this here blog tomorrow, with renewed vigor..

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

 

 

Waifs from the Street: Antigua Guatemala, April 13th, 2012

 

 

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

 

Daily Mass, Parocchia de San Francisco, Antigua Guatemala, April 12th, 2012

 

 

 

 

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

 

 

 

 

Mujer Indígena: Antigua Guatemala, April 10th, 2012

 

 

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

 

Further Thoughts on Humility & Knowledge

 

But let the Spirit of all lies with works of dazzling magic blind you. Then absolutely mine, I'll have and bind you.

- The Devil, Goethe's Faust

 

Gnosticism is the predominate heresy of our age. Gnosticism is belief in salvation by knowledge, belief in the (eventual) supremacy of the intellect over all. Essentially, belief in salvation through power. "Knowledge is power."

Gnosis is derived from the Greek for knowledge, just as science is derived from the Latin for the same. The conciet of the gnostic is that the spiritual (as with everything else) can be reduced to a science, that by understanding one can control things spiritual. Just as one can control the material, the physical through knowledge, one can also control the metaphysical by way of knowledge. Astrology births astronomy, alchemy births chemistry, both birth physics. Technology is as magic. We can be become like gods through knowledge. This is the Fall.

Christianity, in contrast is in this sense a practical agnosticism. We know nothing that can save us. Reality is ultimately mysterious, infinite when we are finite. We can never completely control it, which is to say never control reality's Creator, he who is the source of all that is. He is utterly ineffable, beyond all human power to control or even ultimately understand. The universe gives a hint of his transcendence, enough to inspire awe.

Thus just as we did not and cannot create ourselves, we cannot sustain or save ourselves. It is embrace of this abject need for the Other that saves. Salvation is love of him, and therefore love is the only thing we ultimately need. Again, salvation is through love and the humility and trust (faith) that love engenders. It is in our dependence, weakness, and ignorance that we are saved. It is not in pride, but humility that we are gathered in. "For God is love." Thanks be God forever.

Therefore, it is not knowledge as power that saves, but realtionship in the Divine Trinity, whose energies are grace born of love. And while love is animated by certain knowledge, understanding, it is not of the intellect. Rather, it is of the heart.

So it is then that the smallest shattered, diseased retard with a heart consumed with love is infinitely greater than the futile pride of all hell unbound.

My friend Dale is far greater than satan.

I.H.S.V.

A.M.D.G.

 

 

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A Song for Easter Monday: Advent of Ascension & Whitsuntide

Forty days of fasting past, forty days gladness yet come..

 

Psalm 40

For the director of music. A psalm of David.

¹ I waited patiently for the LORD; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.

² He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

³ And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the LORD.

⁴ Blessed is that man that maketh the LORD his trust, and respecteth not the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies.

⁵ Many, O LORD my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.

⁶ Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire; mine ears hast thou opened: burnt offering and sin offering hast thou not required.

⁷ Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me,

⁸ I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart.

⁹ I have preached righteousness in the great congregation: lo, I have not refrained my lips, O LORD, thou knowest.

¹⁰ I have not hid thy righteousness within my heart; I have declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation: I have not concealed thy lovingkindness and thy truth from the great congregation.

¹¹ Withhold not thou thy tender mercies from me, O LORD: let thy lovingkindness and thy truth continually preserve me.

¹² For innumerable evils have compassed me about: mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able to look up; they are more than the hairs of mine head: therefore my heart faileth me.

¹³ Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me: O LORD, make haste to help me.

¹⁴ Let them be ashamed and confounded together that seek after my soul to destroy it; let them be driven backward and put to shame that wish me evil.

¹⁵ Let them be desolate for a reward of their shame that say unto me, Aha, aha.

¹⁶ Let all those that seek thee rejoice and be glad in thee: let such as love thy salvation say continually, The LORD be magnified.

¹⁷ But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me: thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God.

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

 

Indigenous Folk, First Set: May 23rd 2012.

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

Playa de Maniobras: Ciudad de Guatemala, April 7th, 2012 (Sabado Santo)

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Location:8A Avenida,Guatemala City,Guatemala

 

 

Indigenous Folk, Second Set: May 23rd, 2012

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Location:8 Calle Oriente,Antigua Guatemala,Guatemala

Como Siempre Guatemala

I post this from Florida. I slept last night in Guatemala City, but spent the afternoon flying en route to my now (so called) home. I now post from nowhere, having somehow (and long before this afternoon) lost myself somewhere along the way..

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I arrived tonight in Guatemala City on an afternoon bus from Flores. It was about 11pm when we arrived, and I had located my bus line's terminal on the Lonely Planet guide's map. There were several recommended hotels with a few blocks' radius, which was reassuring.. Given that the word on the city - that has about a million and half residents - is that crime is very prevalent, I was wary. One of the highest rates of mugging and murder in Latin America, I had no interest at all in augmenting that statistic.

When we arrived, I was in no mood to screw around. There a gaggle of fellows waiting at the terminal, crowding the bus door, offering taxi and economical hotels in pidgin English and Spanish. Annoyed, I pushed through them, and collected my stowed bag. They followed me, and I had to make it very clear, in a curt and emphatic manner - that I did not need their services.

I pushed through them again, and headed across the street to set my things down on the sidewalk and get orientated. I pulled my guide and trusty compass out and tried to figure out which way to head. The crowd of taxi drivers stand there scrutinizing me. Annoyed, tired, and beginning to feel uneasy, I decided I needed to move, but couldn't figure out which direction. Frustrated, I picked my stuff up, stuffed my guide in my shoulder bag, and began walking in the direction that felt most proper. I hit the intersection, and noticed that there were gaggles of young men loitering the other side of the street, and hip-hop was blaring from somewhere. Becoming ever less comfortable, I heard a guy call out to me "hotel, mister?"

I was like yeah. Time to get inside. He beckoned, and pointed at a doorway opposite, a sign "hotel" above it. Bingo. Probably not one of the ones recommended by Lonely Planet, but I was becoming less choosey by the nano- second.

I walked over, and in. There was a girl at the desk. "Tiene una habitacon?" Si. "Quantas por una noche?" 40 quetzales. That's 5 bucks. "Puedo verlo?" Claro que si. She motions a chubby kid, maybe 15, to take me to the room. He shuffles off down the hall, and opens a door. I follow, and peer in. It's gloomy and a bit dank, but the bed seems clean. Close enough for me. I'm not wandering the streets here any longer looking to get myself mugged. I tell him I'll take it.

I pay, am handed a roll of toilet paper and a small bar of soap for use in the common bathroom. I check it out as I return to my bed. It's nasty. No showering here. Hopefully, no need to use it much at all.. Eight hours sleep, and I'll be on my way by taxi to the airport. My flight is at 1 pm, so I'll have plenty of time for a long brunch..

I get to my room, set my stuff down and get organized. It's danker than I'd noticed before. In fact, it stinks. Sort of like unrefrigerated raw meat before it spoils. Not cool. But I'm prepared. I have a spray bottle of Febreeze with me. A few passes with that, and now it smells like the Marriot.

Pleased with myself, I grab some trash I'd collected in my bag on the bus, and walked across the hall to the bathroom to take a leak..

As I came back, I went over to the common trash barrel - an actual barrel in a closet on the hall with a half door on it - to throw my trash away..

As I approached, I saw a flash of movement, a blur of fur and a long bare pink tail flicking up then away at the top of the barrel about three feet distant.. Startled, I leapt back a foot or two.

The thing dropped off the side of the barrel, and fled scurrying noisily into the darkness behind into the unfathomable reaches of the inner closet.

Holy bleedin' smokes. I had just seen a rat. About the size of a smallish cat.

Inside my freaking hotel.

At first, I was disgusted. WTF? Then, after about thirty seconds, as my shock began to wear off, I had to laugh. This sort of thing is what this gig is all about. You have the cojones to stay at a Guatemalan flophouse? Yep. Hay tiene algunas ratons..

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Is that even good Spanish? I have no idea what I'm saying, anymore.

Ah, whatever. I'm off to bed. Blessings and every grace upon your heads.



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Limboing the Light Fandango: Skipping the Guatemalan Border [re-posted]

So. I bought a baseline iPad two days before leaving for this trip. It's an amazing piece of technology, but one different from a laptop in hundreds of ways. It's taken me the last two and a half weeks to get the hang of it, and to get it set up properly. I actually didn't sync it properly with my laptop, which is a big annoyance due to the fact that this thing is like an iPod or iPhone, and needs a parent computer to set up and properly use. I made several mistakes when I did this the second day I ownbed it, the day before I left, by not properly tuning it to use iCloud fully, and by putting too much music on it limiting the ammount of hardrive space I have free. It seems impossible to mass delete music - you can delete individual songs, one by one, but not 10 gigs worth at once, which is what I need to do to free my 16 gig drive up sufficiently to upload photos and download software and all that jazz..

Essentially, I need to plug it in to my laptop which is back in Florida, and get the iCloud settings right so I can sync this thing off my laptop remotely over the internet. I also need to delete all but the few hundred or so songs that I listen to obsessively, and then put the rest of my media onto the cloud to be accessed remotely as I want it.. That too can only be properly done when this thing is plugged into my laptop.

Anyhow, despite that minor lackof secure iTunes equipped computer induced boondoggle (which I will rectify when I return home for a week and half Thursday) I have been enjoying trying out tons of new apps and discovering the many ways in which this thing differs from, and often surprisingly outperforms a laptop at a plethora of tasks. Its portability, and its $500 (as opposed to the $2000 on my lap top) price tag are the biggest pluses, of course. If this gets damaged or stolen it is not that big a deal. It can be remotely scrubbed if need be, if stolen; and much more easily replaced in any event. And it does 90% of what my laptop can do. A couple of the things it can't do, like run rss feeds and my strategic war games (Hi, my name is Charlie and I'm an HoI2 and Total War addict) are actually huge pluses. I need a break from the wave of information that my laptop engulfs me in, as well as the distraction of games.

And the apps are mostly impressive. This thing does many things well, in neat new ways, and sometimes better than a laptop can.

One mixed example are the blogging apps - Blogsy and Blogpress - that I downloaded a few days ago in Belize. I used Blogpress to knock out the original post that was published under this title. I spent an entire afternoon in this groovy little internet pub overlooking the main drag in San Igancio (such as it is- it's dusty, hardscrabble border town with an eclectic mix of people - sort of like Mos Eisley, only set in the Belizian jungle, not Tatooine.. )

I only took one picture from the cafe balcony for some reason. This picture of a Mennonite (think Amish, thereabouts) woman talking with some guy. There are many Mennonites in Belize, and they - as you might expect - are very industrious folk, kicking it like it's 1560 Friesland in 2012 Belize. They have major farms there that produce much of the country's produce. I saw them everywhere, and they fascinate and impress me. Hence this odd, lone image:





I blogged the earlier version of this post at that upstairs cafe. It was a slapdash, rambling affair. Typical of my blogging, indeed most of my writing, these days. I did really like some of the pictures I posted with it, though.

So it stings a bit that while screwing around with the Blogpress app last night, I somehow managed to erase that post. It was absurdly easy to do, and I still don't understand what happened.

Something that would be inconceivable on a laptop, but happened all too easily on this damn'd iPad.

I'd posted images of Christmas, my reef diving, and the very intriguing spelunking I did in a cave were the Maya performed ritual human sacrifices.

Virtual postcards of some pretty amazing stuff.. All swallowed by the matrix.

I may repost some of it, but tonight I'm in a hotel - an otherwise very decent place - with weak wireless. In lieu of recapitulating all that, I am going to paste a few images of my past few days in Guatemala:





The view at sunset from my hotel veranda over Lago de Petén Itzá. The town here, Flores, is on an island connected to the shore by a manmade land bridge. The last great Mayan fortress and ceremonial complex to be taken by the Spanish (at the end of the 17th century, 200 years after Columbus arrived) was on this island. None of it now survives, having been razed during conquest. It's a beautiful little town, reminding me a bit of Greenville on Moosehead.. Picturesque little place on a great 20 mile long lake..

The backyard, here:





This morning at 4:30 I left for a tour of the great Mayan ruin enmeshed in the jungle at Tikal about an hour and a half from here. It rained all day long, but the place was nevertheless still magical.

A few shots peremptorily culled from my camera, without editing:


















It rains rather fierce in the rainforest, you see. I was soddened by the incessant temperate damp .. Nothing that a hot shower, and a few reinvigorating libations wouldn't salve.

Tomorrow evening I take the overnight bus to Guatemala City to fly home on Thursday.

I repair once again to my natural state exile a week and half later, on the 20th of the month. Not a day too late nor too soon.

This here blog is far from undone. There are stories yet to come..



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Location:Hotel Casa Amelia, Calle Union, Santa Elena, Guatemala

Bruised Orange: O.J. Squeezed from the American Dream..

If I Have Anymore Faith in this Fu'k'd Up Country, It's Due to the Likes of John Prine..




Them Lyrics:

My heart's in the ice house, come hill or come valley,
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley,
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow.

I heard sirens on the train track, howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter,
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow..

You can gaze out the window get mad, gettin' madder,
Throw your hands in the air, sayin' "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me I know..

For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter..
You become your own prisoner, as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own chain of sorrow..

I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there..
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
And my head shouted down to my heart, "you'd better look out below!"
Hey, it ain't such a long drop don't stammer don't stutter,
From the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter,
You'll carry those bruises to remind you wherever you go.

You can gaze out the window get mad, gettin' madder,
Throw your hands in the air, sayin' "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me I know..

My heart's in the ice house, come hill or come valley,
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley,
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow.

I heard sirens on the train track, howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter,
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow..

You can gaze out the window get mad, gettin' madder,
Throw your hands in the air, sayin' "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me I know..

For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter..
You become your own prisoner, as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own chain of sorrow..



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