3am

it’s unbelievably dark outside. thick black. empty black. the only thing illuminating the space between myself and the world is the infinite spray of stars. cuddled in my womb I know that I need to rise. people, like ghosts, move about. voices spilling from the small dented wooden church. firecrackers pierce the silence. poppapoppoppopPOPcrackslampapop—BOOM! Noisey and colorful and alive.

i finally get it. got it. understand. how people can work their backs and blood and bones. bent and brutal but not broken. something from the earth, the land, the green breath of the jungle. something from the sun and rivers and space. it's all about G-O-D. it moves them. it sustains them. IT is poco a poco.

The roosters aren’t even cockadoodledooing yet. Tortillas haven’t been made. Machetes lie untouched. Kids and dogs and parents and balloons and streamers and candles fill the tiny dilapidated church. All wiggling and moving and singing and full of joy. .........It’s 3am.

-maria

...........a friend said

"Great to see you both so excited! The blogs were a great read.

Makes me wish i was there. There is something magical about the agrarian lifestyle, one is so connected to the earth. To the cycles of light and dark, the changing seasons, the living things. Is it the living things? I am surrounded by dead things: painted walls, carpet, curtains, electronics, not a living thing in sight except me. Kind of a lonely existence isn't it to be so separated from life? My feet barely touch the ground through my thick boots and socks as I move quickly from my home shell to my mobile one so I can get to the work shell. We work so hard to block the living world out. And then there's folks like your campesino's embracing life with every step. Aware of and celebrating the rhythms of life with every breath."

Christine! we miss you.

alive. .....And kicking

……..let me tell you. I can scream it. Everyone! I can breath. I can relax.........in Guatemala. in all it’s decaying splendor. it may be dirty and hungry and falling apart. but damn it…….it’s alive. and still kicking. ……………….and you know what. So am I.

after one week of Spanish in the city and one week of filming on the finca we are……....i don’t know what to say………...blessed? seriously. I don’t know what it is but the power is there. everything moved. everything found its path. the community is on fire. spiritually………that is. don’t get me wrong…….they are screwed up……but there is really something to learn from people that are buried this deep and still you can see that fire in the soul.

They are here. Alive. Brisk. Smiling. Pensive. Picking coffee. I no longer ask myself if they will succeed. For me there is no question…….success? ....failure? what does it mean. They aren’t subject to our laws of success and failure. They live by the the law of poco a poco. And there they work and rest and eat and have children. And when you are subject to the laws of poco a poco you know that even the impossible............is possible.

So where does that leave me? Us? All of us? That country? My union? Our heart? I don’t know……….but I defiantly prefer the laws of poco a poco...........and full moons and dragon flies and the number nine.

-mary

A Dawn and a Day

I'm enchanted by the mornings here. As the first semblence of light kisses the distant hilltops I can't help but to feel refreshed. Dawn creeps slowly, awakening the crow-like black birds whose song I've dearly missed. If any one sound can so graciously transport me back to Guate and Mexico it is these charming melodies.

Smoke rising from every delapitated house casts a blue haze on all that I gaze and ponder. It’s chilly this morning or, “there’s lot’s of cold,” as it is described here. These “lot’s of cold” mornings seem to be a portent for “lot’s of hot” come mid-day.

We picked coffee yesterday for the first time this year. It wasn’t long before I was reminded of how bloody hard the work is around here…and picking coffee is the easiest of it all. I was reminded how intense the sun can be—even with winter solstice just three weeks away.
Yet with all the ever-present obstacles to comfort, yesterday in the day in the life a campesino, was smiles and laughter, pride and euphoria, relief and a genuine sense of satisfaction. For yesterday, 29 of November, the life blood of La Florida came lumbering in on the backs of women, children, and men like it had never come before. This day amid the peak of their third coffee harvest, after hours of hot and humid work, brought a high…and unspoken elation that I had never witnessed in them. It was as if their long race of marathon, after marathon, after triathlon had finally come to an end…Yet today, as I’m all too aware, they’ve begun again to harvest the life blood in the hope that this day, like yesterday, will lift them…if only a little…from dirt floors, crumbling walls and rusty roof-tops.
--ryan

To Return

To return is to test oneself. To return is to face the mind's trickery. For our memories are forever changing with each passing day, with each passing experience, with each passing moment, with each passing encounter. To return is to be burdened with the baggage of one's past encounters...the expectations we both consciously and unconsciously cultivate in those that we meet and share time and experiences with. For those that we encounter on a personal level forever linger to both cradle and hinder us. To return is to confirm...to express to one's self, and to others, that magic has indeed transpired...and that this magic indeed needs revisiting.

--ryan

Music, Magik, Margarita......and Tajamulco

It almost killed me but I loved it. When we met Christopher in the main square that afternoon and Margaret in the café the following morning I couldn’t possibly have known that I would finish the week on top Central America.

really it was one of my favorite weeks out on the finca. our time there was creeping to a close, we were playing with the camera and the community, setting up the Health Project.......just floating around encountering those sparks. warm days of long walks and silence. cool conversations. Margarita and Christopher filling us with mellow magic music. singing……tuning……tuning…….tuning a bit more…….followed by a bit of singing. the chemistry was on. it was a near perfect week in life.

And then………Christopher brought us news of Tajamulco. the highest peak in Central America. 13,848ft. and it was unanimous…….we were going. after quick bus ride farewells to Christopher......heading off in his own Guatemalan direction…….our union (Alberto, Margarita, Ryan, and I) made our way toward volcan Tajamulco.

Feb 6, 4am wake up. Oh my god……………look at the stars. It’s like we are someplace else, not Guatemala….....….not earth. I feel energized by the crisp air. My body isn’t nearly as destroyed from the hike-in yesterday as I thought it would be. I stretch. I pack up my stuff. I feel pretty good.

Our group of seven hits the trail with flashlights. within minutes I feel that I will die. Shit—can I do this?? do I want it badly enough? i drag along……periodically looking up. with dread. the rest of the group has dusted us and only Ryan is by my side. flashlight to flashlight to moonlight. 20 ft at a time…….10. we are here and I really don’t want to be the only beautiful loser that can’t summit. but my head is light, my vision crossing, my aura disoriented. i only want to collapse…….let go. quit forcing myself to do something that is just not in me. I can’t figure out if more pain is coming from my body or my mind. Ryan is carrying me emotionally……without him I would have given up long ago and sat alone in the silent dark…..….perhaps peacefully and without regret.

But he didn’t give up on me……and so I didn’t give up on myself. so, I begin to understand that this is how it’s done. piece by piece. Up. Up. Up. one breath at a time. so close to the top and so far to go. now I can see the gold fuchsia glow rising and growing on the horizon. It is taking my breathe away—this beauty. and now…..in the presence of this…........…i begin to want it. that summit. it’s not a question anymore……i have to make it. and still i break down in the rocks……because as much as i want it……i really don’t know if i can do it. the altitude is in my brain playing games. Ryan……you should just go or you will miss it........the sunrise. he went with power. i continued to take it by pieces…..by breaths. the sun ball glow gold brilliant breaks the silken clouds. i sit peacefully and feel in the presence of something unspeakable. it bathes me. i can inhale it. sitting. ................breathing

Ok. i can move on. poco a poco. creeping crawling toward the rocky windy cold summit. it’s close now. i can feel it. i have it. here it is. YES! but what i feel on the top isn’t relief or happiness or any such thing………i just feel a sense of acceptance. i am here. standing here. right now. and my god….look at the shadow she is casting on the earth!

--maria

the almost present................

Ohhhhhh…………how can I let this beast out?? The beast of the near now.

Dare I say it…………that the last month of this thing has become higher than the first. Man……I’m at home here. And my home…...the one I’ve known forever scares the piss out of me. But I will crash land and survive. I would say that I’m ‘ready for anything’ but it sounds a bit too much like a self imposed curse. ………But let’s not dwell on the future.

Travis came mid January. thanks to his lovely wife Rose…….and that she is……a rose. Travis fun love. bright spirit. Open eyed. Open heart. Empty Gallo bottles! Mischievous grin stories. I think he loved Guatemala and she loved him back.

When Alberto and Christine (our NYU student filmmaker) showed up on our hotel doorstep in Xela it was instant chemistry. Yep…..this is gonna work. Some aguardiente cheers to the beginning of……???….…..something.

the film. Christine surprised us……we who are not so easily surprised. From the concrete urban landscapes of New York to the earth green mountain jungles of Guatemala. She hung in there. Young but self ironic. Brave. Smart. It was a good combination. We were filming for a week and it was both odd and interesting. It felt invasive…....but the community is open. EVERYONE wants to talk. Often wanting to say much more than we want to hear. Funny. And the more we filmed…..the more they talked……the more we learned……the more we saw…….and the more complex the community became. Amazing moments of magik. gems unexpected. Captured. It couldn’t have been planned.

And now…..with the camera in my hands I walk. and it’s difficult to describe what it feels like. In a way it’s eerie, powerful. I decide what people will see and how they will see it. and in a way this very much thrills and it scares me. It thrills and scares me when people open themselves for me to record. When something unexpected happens…..a belly laugh, some light sparking deep within black eyes, a moment of repressed emotion. I am giving and taking in the same moment. Taking their stories, their lives, their histories, their images……to some other place that it beyond their reach. And giving them a voice, the opportunity to express themselves in their words with their ideas and thoughts……their experience. It is both peaceful and exciting. A natural extension of my photography. I can capture pieces of things that escape language. But the moving image is different…….it asks more of the subject…….asks them to participate more actively, giving more of themselves. Perhaps it is more honest (perhaps not). Giving the subject more control over how they are portrayed……..or not. Anyway……it’s an interesting question.

So…….we have shot over 30 hours of film thus far. Lots of work. Lots of time. Lots of patience. And lots of luck. It’s winding down…….…but I still feel high.

--hasta pronto, maria

The Past

time has left me. Days running away at speeds beyond my control and imagination. I have gotten so far behind with my writing that my head feels insideout. And when I sit down to do it I feel empty……..no words come. I sit. I think. I intellectualize. All at a loss. But meanwhile my heart is light. Everything has come on slowly like moonlight. The sky hinges overhead, azul brillante. But I will inch backward and..……......recall…...

…….after arriving back on the finca in November everything went terribly wrong…….then we left……….then we returned………then everything went terribly right. Ahhh……………………….

The holidays!
the whole thing……..it was unanticipated. But I should have known. The bus station in Xela was nuts. Crowded. Packed crazier than usual. Bus packed hot. Of course!……2 days before Christmas……BIG! holiday here. People traveling about. Family coming. Shopping. Food. Colomba was a madhouse. Our familiar local haunt buzzing bizarre. Looking around lost I spotted the warm presence of Dona Maria across the crazy street. And when little Esbi ran out to meet us…….i felt his light and I became so. I could breathe again. Christmas didn’t really feel like Christmas but it was very cool to have it on the finca. Replace turkeys with tamales……..gifts with smiles……ornaments with firecrackers…….and cold white wind snow with hot blue sky sweat. I learned how to make tamales…..real ones!.......Guatemalan style. I watched. I wrote. I cooked. I ate meat! Did you know that you can make tamales with corn, rice or potatoes?? Interesting.

3 weeks on thee finca were silky smooth –but my body was paying the price. My dog is well and shiny as ever. The community is ready for the film. We were a free and cohesive group of visitors. The kids are gorgeous. The community is used to us. Relationships feel more real……..words more genuine. I hadn’t any idea when i left home 9 months ago…….hadn’t any ideas about anything. Only the idea to leave home in the first place. And I did…….and here we are. And not one day, one moment, one thought of regret. And these coming weeks as we approach the film I still don’t know where it’s all going. I only know that I’m ready to be creative…….to discover more about the community…….and to share it.

I’m ready to have fun. Lots of people are coming. Ryan’s mejor amigo Travis. Our querida amigo and partner in crime Alberto. Our long lost crazy beautiful amiga Margarita. It’s interesting to start something now just as we are about to leave. Seems backward. But it’s just the way things happen. And it’s the only way it could have happened. And it couldn’t have been anticipated.

--Mary