El Dia Los Abuelos

We entered the home of Marta’s niece through the gate. After greeting a half dozen smiling family members we moved to the back yard and entered a half constructed house. The cinderblock walls were up two stories, with everything but the roof and the floors, which were dirt. The women went to work plucking the petals from yellow, purple, red and white daisies. Edwin began to organize the candles and incense. One woman began to sweep the dirt with the now bare flower stems. The spot was in the hallway, near the front door and with an opening to each side. She poured sugar on the ground, first in a cross then closing it with a circle. Next she arranged large balls of compressed cedar incense over the sugar, 13 in total. 13 symbolizes all the movements the body; neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, the three joints in the fingers, the wait, the legs, the knees, the ankles, and two in the toes. Next she sprinkles loose incense chips over the whole thing. In the center, with wicks facing inward she placed 4 or 5 candles of each color: black, which signifies the dark hair of the people, death and also West, where the sun sets; White which signifies sky, clouds, rain and North, where the wind comes from; Red, which signifies blood, life and East, where the sun rises, and yellow, which signifies South and the harvest. Over that she crossed sticks of incense pine. She placed 4 cigars, and two pieces of bread on top of the sticks. We created cardinal arrows around the offering with the flower pedals, aligning with the same colors of the candles and traced the triangles in green leaves.
While the offering was being constructed, the abuelitos (grandparents) walked from roofless room to room praying, swinging incense and sprinkling holy water. I was offered a seat near the offering; a cinderblock on its side with the green flower stems for a cushion. My guatemadre sat to my right on her knees protected from the dirt by a plastic feedbag.
To begin the ceremony, the woman explained briefly to the group, mostly looking in my direction about the ceremony. This is a special day to honor first God, and secondly our ancestors. She then transitioned to only speaking in Kachiquel of which I understand two words: good and okay. As she lit the candles of the offering, the abuelito who was standing to my left in the doorway, audible farted. About 40 minutes into the ceremony each person was handed a green candle. This is to represent all of nature. Each of us tossed our candle to the fire. Next, we were handed a white candle and a handful of sesame seeds. The white candle signified the path sesame seeds are a symbol for money. Near the end of the ceremony, each of the three nenes (small children) present where swirled over the fire by their armpits. This is a form of spiritual cleansing.
What I anticipated to be a formal, somber ceremony was quite casual, although steeped in ritual. Cell phones interrupted the monologue. Isa, sitting apart from the fire in one of the rooms, was trying to fix a handheld video game for the kids. At one point in the ceremony, I was offered a cigar. I obliged, and puffed along with the abuelito and Edwin, who took the ceremony very seriously (at lunch, Edwin described the ceremony and the symbolism of the ceremony to me in detail. He also taught me about other aspects of the Mayan Spirit. He said a lot of things are similar to the red skinned people of my country. He has conducted a lot of self-study and holds the Mayan Spirit himself).  At another point, we were handed small chips of compressed incense chips that were dark in color. I was examining these chips, which included smelling them. Irma nudged me and said “It’s chocolate, Katarin. Eat!”. 2 hours later, when the material was mostly consumed, the ceremony was deemed complete. Again, transitioning back to Spanish with eyes on me, the woman explained that both God and the ancestors agreed with the ceremony and are content. Drinking chocolate and bread were passed to each person to end the day.
Later, over dinner, I asked Edwin if he thought the ceremony went well. He enthusiastically confirmed. He said when the fire swirls, it means direct contact with God. I noticed this during the ceremony, multiple times a spontaneous burst and swirl of the fire, for no apparent reason; no extra fuel was added to the fire and there was no change in the wind or weather. He also explained the cigars, called ‘puras’ are a way of divining an answer. If, as you puff your pura it breaks and falls to the ground, then your problem will be solved soon. If your pura does not break, you’ve got a bigger problem on your hands. He also informed me that during the civil war here, a 36 year war that ended in ’96, Mayan spiritual traditions were outlawed, and that those caught practicing would be executed. Maybe this explains the seemingly contradictory mix of indigenous and Catholic practices.
On the walk home, Isa had his leather planner tucked under his suited arm. He explained that he is a pastor (he is a nurse) and that all who walk with him are saved.