Love and Gratitude

After visiting Cerro El Baúl, Dakota sang for Hermana María Magdalena and her mother. As always, his performance was quite moving. The spirit reminded me just how much love and gratitude I feel for my beautiful friends in Guatemala. 

All of Dakota's performances were heartfelt and beautiful. 

Applause...

I only regret that Lourdes was not able to hear the song. I would have loved to get a picture of the four generations of women in their family. 

Cerro El Baúl

After lunch, Lourdes went to work and Hermana María Magdalena took us for a short excursion to Cerro El Baúl, a picturesque hill overlooking the city of Quetzaltenango. 

María and Sofia walking hand in hand. 

Steller's jay are very abundant on the hill. 

Monument to Tecun Umán,

the last Quiché king. 

Fake tilt-shift of Quetzaltenango.

Rhonda and I at the top of El Baúl. 

Reunion

Three or four months before our trip to Guatemala, I wrote letters to my dear friends Lourdes de León and her mother María Magdalena. Unfortunately, I never heard back, so I wasn't sure if they never received the letters or if they just didn't want to hear from me. Once we arrived in Quetzaltenango, I decided that I just had to have the answer, whatever the truth might be. 

When we arrived at the house, I rang the bell and waited for a response. María Magdalena opened the door, but I did not recognize her at first. Apparently, she did not recognize me either. But when I said my name, her face lit up and she threw her arms around me. Right away, she called for her daughter. When Lourdes saw me, she immediately recognized me and also threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. The happiness was immense. 

I did ask about the letters, but they did not receive them. 

Rhonda was still in the temple, but they invited us all back for lunch. It was a surprising, joyful reunion for all. 

María Magdalena is not a member of the LDS Church, but years ago, she rented a room of her house to the missionaries, and since I was in the same area twice, I got to spend a lot of time with this family. We became very close, though I regret to say that we drifted apart after I returned to the States. 

Lourdes now has a beautiful daughter. 

María brought us on a tour of the house. I have so many happy memories from that place; I can't even begin to say how wonderful it felt to return. 

El Templo

Wednesday in Quetzaltenango, we visited the new temple. 

Rhonda and Yaneth attended a session together. 

You can click on any of these photographs to view a larger image. 

Santa María

On Tuesday, we drove to San Bartolo Aguascalientes by way of Momostenango. As we approached San Francisco El Alto, we turned back and saw the beautiful valley of Quetzaltenango with the Santa María volcano rising in the distance. 

Click on the photo to enlarge. 

Back to the Rotonda

After seeing the temple, we took the taxi back to the Rotonda to get our car. By the way, I forgot to mention that a pedestrian bridge was also built so that people can avoid traffic when they cross the street. We crossed the bridge and took this picture of the Rotonda at night. 

Here is a nighttime picture of the giant archway that I mentioned in a previous post. 

This is a picture of El Bosque and all the cars still parked behind us. We had to wait at least another half hour for everyone to finally leave. 

El Templo

From Central Park, we took a taxi to the new LDS temple that was dedicated less than a year ago. Like so many other temples, it sits on a hill overlooking the entire city. The gates were already closed, but that did not stop us from enjoying the peace and beauty of the temple site. 

These photographs were taken just as the sun had already set. 

This is a larger version of the same photograph. You can click on this picture of the temple to download a larger copy of this image. 

El Parque Central de Quetzaltenango

When we stopped at the Rotonda, we saw that the door to the LDS Church was open. This is the chapel known as El Bosque. Rhonda suggested that we go inside. We saw other cars parked on the basketball court, so we parked there as well. We were in the building for only a few minutes, just long enough to use the bathroom and to reminisce about old times, but when we tried to leave, we saw that dozens of other cars had already parked behind us. Apparently a conference was just about to begin. By the time we asked people to move their cars, the conference already started. We would have to stay until the end of the conference two hours later. 

Hermana Yanet de Castillo was expecting us to arrive in Colomba by 5:00 that night. Now that we were stuck behind all the those cars, there was nothing to be done. We would just have to wait. We even tried to call Hermana Castillo to let her know about our delay, but no one answered. 

For just a moment, I stood there fretting about the next two hours, but then a microbus stopped at the curb and a man jumped out to holler the destination: Parque Central (Central Park). I motioned for Rhonda and Dakota to follow and all three of us jumped aboard the tiny, dilapidated bus. Anyone who has traveled in Guatemala knows the buses; you are squished like sardines with friends and strangers alike. Most of the them have no air conditioning, so the ride is hot, dirty, smelly, and uncomfortable, but it's all part of the experience that I wanted to share with my family. That part hasn't changed in twenty years.    

We arrived at Central Park and I was so happy to share the sights with Rhonda and Dakota. 

There is so much history. For example, this old Catholic church was built in the 1500s, but it was largely destroyed by an earthquake a few hundred years later. Only the facade remained. The surviving portion of the church was preserved because of the artistry and beauty and the new church was built directly behind. 

Detailed carvings adorn the old facade. 

Years ago, my father and I took a picture
in front of these great doors. 

When we arrived, the park was bustling with young people. 

A man was playing the guitar. 

Rhonda and Dakota stood to pose for this picture on one of the many narrow streets. In this picture you can see the cars passing just a few feet away.  

La Rotonda

Twenty years ago, the highway between Guatemala City and Quetzaltenango was a narrow, two-lane road that cut a harrowing, twisted path through the the steep Guatemalan highlands. The highway offered a thousand breathtaking vistas, but it was just as dangerous as it was beautiful. The cars and buses competed with one another to jockey ahead of the slower trucks. Often they passed other vehicles around blind curves, just barely missing a truck or bus that barreled around the corner from the opposite direction. It's no wonder all the buses carry the image of a saint or the Virgin Guadalupe; sometimes prayer is the only traveler's insurance available. 

Now the highway is greatly changed. The view is just as spectacular as before, but now four lanes have been opened, making travel between the two cities quicker than ever before. 

The new four-lane autopista allows drivers to bypass Salcajá and enter Quetzaltenango from the other side. It is much faster than before, but I decided to take the old road, just for old times sake. 

When we arrived in Quetzaltenango, we immediately found La Rotonda, which is a large traffic circle with a statue in the middle: El Monumento a la Marimba (pictured above). Some of the sights were the same as I remember them, but many were changed. A massive archway now spans the entire street, just exactly where the old LDS Church still stands. Also, a McDonald's was built on the edge of the Rotonda, just a block away from the old mission office. 

It was a strange feeling to see all the changes. Twenty years ago, when I was a young missionary, I would have given anything to have a McDonald's within our mission boundary. Now I feel a sense of sadness to see something so important and intangible has been lost through the Americanization of this deeply traditional country.   

Years ago, I was riding the bus to Quetzaltenango with Elder Barrios. Somehow we got to talking about our lives back home and he asked me if I had a girlfriend in the States. Of course, I told him that I was writing a girl who was also a missionary in Texas. He asked me, "What is her name?"

I said, "Rhonda."

Just then, the bus came to a stop and the driver's assistant hollered the name of our location, "¡La Rotonda!" Elder Barrio laughed and mimicked the assistant in the same altered voice that all the Guatemalan buses use to announce their destinations. Ever since then, it became a joke among some of the missionaries that I was dating a girl named La Rotonda. 

When I shared this story with Rhonda, she was none too pleased. She said the name makes her sound, well, rotund and large. Even so, all these years later, Rhonda posed for a picture at her namesake Rotonda.