Chatty Kid

I'm going to gush about my latest hobby: baby sign language. Those of you have been around us in the last, oh, 14 months will know something about this already. Since Sam was about 6 months old, we've been using Baby Signs (here's a link to the book), which is a simplified form of sign language geared towards pre-verbal infants. For the better part of a year, we made idiots of ourselves by desperately repeating words such as "water! water!" while gesturing madly, while Sam would stare at us blankly. Well, to those of you who thought we were losing our minds, I am happy to report that Sam is now a fully signing kid.

Ok, before the non-parent contingent in our blog audience roll their collective eyes and say "oh god, another guy awash in parental hormones going on about how brilliant his kid is", let me say that according to the book, Sam is pretty much middle-of-the-pack. But two things thrill me about this: the fact that we have a full two-way communication happening, and just how cool the "Baby Sign" system is.

The principle is that pre-verbal babies have cognitive language facilities, but the inability to control the tongue and voicebox. Therefore, they've got stuff to say, they know what it should sound like, but they just can't get it out intelligibly. However, manual dexterity develops much earlier than verbal dexterity: thus the hand signs.

In practice, it's basic common sense: you repeat the word while performing the sign. Eventually the kid picks it up & starts performing the sign themselves.

Here is a sample of Sam in action:

"Moon". Hand extended upwards, making small circles

"Cat". Fingers across cheek, tracing whiskers. (Sam makes it more like fangs coming out of the mouth, which makes perfect sense if you know our cat Misho)

"Frog". Tongue sticking out.

Once you get it going, you realize how much is going on in those heads. Sam is almost hungry to express his experiences, and a walk or read involves him constantly relating what he's seeing. It's not Shakespeare: mostly just labelling what he sees ("bird! moon!"), but really—isn't that what most of our verbal activity is about?

A nice side effect which we were hoping for: there are signs for emotions, which seem to help limit the infamous tantrums—which are frustrated attempts at communicating. Sam had started to blow hissy fits, so we taught him the signs for "angry", "sad", and "scared". When he starts to get frustrated, we ask him about what is going on, and he tells us. I swear, not one tantrum since. And that, my friends, is a huge relief.

And it's almost scary how quickly the rolling ball starts to pick up speed: Sam's learning almost a sign every day or two, and now expects a sign for items of interest. Like everything, our language is negotiated: he didn't like the standard sign for fish and would shake his head vigourously every time I did it (too close to "book" for his liking). So I had to come up with a new one—it remains a work in progress.

As of this writing, here is a sample of the vocab currently in use: more, no more/all done, cat, dog, car, moon, horse, hungry/eat, milk, frog, bird, airplane, angry, scared, water/drink, book, "itsy bitsy spider", giraffe.

Incidentally, you know the first thing that Sam did when he found he could communicate? He LIED!

Road Trip

Historical Side note

There is a long history to Flores, perhaps the most interesting of which is the pre-Columbian part: Flores (under the name "Tayasal") was occupied by the Mayan Itzá people, after they had been booted out of their city of Chichen Itzá in Mexico—now a popular tourist destination near Cancun.

The Itzá were the last major Mayan civization to fall to the Spanish, only being conquered in 1697 (extremely late in conquest history), and the Itzá language is still spoken by a small community of families in the area.

Last week, from Wednesday to Sunday, the four of us took a road trip from Guatemala City (in the highlands) to an Island town called Flores in large lowland region called the Petén.

Our route: click for detail

We'll fill in anecdotes in later postings, but here is the gist: headed out Wednesday, passed through Rio Dulce Frontera, stayed overnight en route in a fancy resort with a gazillion (maybe two) North American tourists, stayed in Poptún Thursday night, got to Flores mid-day Friday, stayed Friday & Saturday night, returned Sunday.

Here are some shots that we took along the way:

Rio Dulce Frontera: Locals at the cantina

Having some fun on the road—"Itsy bitsy spider" was a big hit during the long rides. It's the same mystery as cat toys: how did whoever wrote that figure out what drives kids nuts?

Biker dude on a road near Flores.

Busy commercial clutter at Rio Dulce Frontera, a popular tourist centre for Guatemalans

Jesus Nazareno de los Milagros - Preparing for the Procession

As a metaphor for spiritualism in the modern age, Gaby and I had a religious experience today.

Wreaths of palms adorn the metal railing on windows often adding to the purple sashes that indicate a procession route. Indigenous women weave and sell hand-held palm wreaths in various shapes adding flowers and grasses of all types. Our wreath featured a pyramid, but most are simply loops of palms with a tulip and a splash of baby's breath. Amazingly, Sam carried the palm wreath for quite a number of blocks.

We headed out bright & early (by our standards) to catch the Palm Sunday processions (see our previous entry on Semana Santa if you haven't already). We had the map of the route's procession, we had the will to see it, Sam was suited up & ready to go.

Well, we saw people preparing for the procession, we saw people cleaning up after the procession, but after 2 hours of wandering the streets, we finally gave up on seeing the procession itself. It remained frustratingly elusive, just around the next corner.

However, in the process we did see the activities that go on to prepare for the arrival: namely, how the community comes out into the streets and creates the really beautiful sawdust carpets over which the procession walks. The mood is lively and happy, and since the streets are blocked off from the noise and stench of car traffic, Guatemala city reveals a quiet charm that is not always apparent.

Jesus Nazareno del Consuelo - Watching the Processions

We caught about an hour of the Catholic procession dedicated to the image of Jesus of Nazareth, Provider of Solace. The procession begins at 11 in the morning and weaves through the city centre until midnight.

There are four floats to the procession—one carried by men and three by women—two marching bands and different types of ceremonial officials. Guatemala has a long tradition of religious processions. People from all walks of life get involved in carrying the procession images, funding the flower, sawdust or leaf carpets, and following the procession throughout its journey through the city.

Antigua is perhaps best known for its religious processions but Guatemala city—a bustling and traffic-ridden metropolis of an estimated four million—hosts dozens of these marathon-length processions during Holy Week. This is amazing not only for the traffic chaos that they create, but also because of the obvious dedication that people still have to their Catholic practice.

I was particularly struck by the sheer will of the women carrying this image. Using supporting canes, wearing heels, dressed head-to-toe in black at nearly 30-degree weather, they manage to haul their heavy burden through the streets lined with vendors, grill stations, municipal clean-up crews and of course half-gringo babies.

Sam enjoyed sucking on his carrier and listening to the drums and large wind instruments. He seemed not to be phased by the crowds of people who with great regularity point at him saying: "Look at the baby!"

Huelga de Dolores 2005

The float seen here features a blindfolded figure often used to represent justice. She holds a tombstone that says "Here lies Hope—We are all lost".

This afternoon I witnessed a curious spectacle, the so-called "Huelga de Dolores" (Strike of Sorrows—"strike" in the sense of "labour disruption"). It's about 100 years old, and is basically an annual satirical parade put on by students from the University of San Carlos. As it falls just before Semana Santa (Holy Week), during which countless religious processions fill the streets, it serves as a sort of parody of religion while making sharp satirical political commentary. Anthropologists call these kind of events "world-turned-upside-down" events because during the space of the event those who do not have power are able to criticize the powerful without consequence. These events can also feature cross-dressing and open defiance of accepted cultural and social roles—in this case, for example, parade participants applied lipstick to men watching from the sidewalk. Not an everyday thing in Latin America!

The unoffical theme of this year was the TLC—Central American Free Trade Agreement (with the U.S.). Many of the parade "floats" attacked the TLC and Americans in general.

This guy was genuinely creepy

Canadians and their bad open-pit mining practices were also a target at the parade and it was disturbing to see ourselves as a type of imperialist force worthy of condemnation. This flag says MINE YOUR ASS

Parade participants are often dressed in different colored "Ku-Klux-Klan"-like robes and hoods (actually a reference to the gowns and hoods worn during the Semana Santa celebrations, nothing to do with the KKK). The color of the hood is determined by your departmental affiliation at the university.

The parade weaves through the streets of the city's historical centre ("Zone 1")—an area littered with ornate 18th-century residential buildings in disrepair, mid-twentieth century buildings with rooftop gardens and much street vending. These streets crowded daily with bus and car traffic overflows with floats designed by students of the different faculties and departments of the university.

The skeleton is a common motif, but there were also people dressed as giant phalli (I'm not sure what that was about).

Home Alone - Epilogue

Well, Gab returned well-rested and refreshed from her break in Winnipeg. She's now ready to face the hardships of tropical life once again.

So how did Sam & I fare without her? Well, let's review the last 5 days:

• We made friends with a guy who hangs around the corner drug store with a shotgun. His name is "José Gabriel"
• We listened to the sounds of anti-free trade protests in the distance (the protests were country-wide and two were killed at a blockade in another province. The agreement was ratified by parliament by a margin of 10-to-1).
• We learned how to put items into containers and then (this is the really exciting part) take them out again! Well, one of us did, anyway.
• We swam in the pool of and ate ceviche (a future word of the day) with the runner-up in the last Presidential election
• As we were enjoying a sunny day under tropical flowers, one of us put a flower into their mouth. The other frantically tried to get it out, but wasn't sure if he was completely successful. We then rushed home and did a frantic Google-search on "Magnolia poisonous" (I think it was a magnolia—at least, it looked like the flower on the cover of the "Magnolia" soundtrack, that's how much I know about flowers). To his horror, it was classified as "poisonous", but only because it occasionally caused "headaches and depression". We considered that to be something less than an emergency & subsequently ignored it.
• We seduced, at last count, 5 waitresses, 2 old ladies in the street, a mother-daughter pair on the roof of our apartment building, and a handful of girls in the central square of Santa Lucia. Well, one of us did, anyway.
• We dipped our toes in the tropical Pacific—a first for both of us
• We grew 2 more teeth!

And so Gab came back Sunday to find us both deeply, deeply impressed by those who manage to raise young children alone as single parents. How the heck do people do it?

Celebrity weighs heavily on me - Part 2

Well, this is just going a little too far. Today Enrique (Gab's Dad), me, and Sam took a little day trip to Santa Lucia, a nice little town in the lowlands not far from the Pacific coast (Guatemala City is in the highlands). As far as I can see, the area is one big sugar cane production centre, and the air is heavy with the slightly sickly-sweet smell of cut sugar cane. It is a beautiful area, though.

But that's not what this story is about.

On the way back we stop in at a restaurant for some local food; Sam, by then, was getting tired and a bit cranky. Sam, part way through the meal, starts making eyes with a little girl (9? 10?), smiling, cocking his head. She plays with him for a while at a distance, then shyly comes over and asks if her sister could hold Sam. "Um, sure, knock yourself out" I thought and instantly judging them to be trustworthy, and turned to enjoy my steak.

Well, not 5 minutes later I hear squeals and giggles of delight, and turn to see Sam whooping it up with a gaggle of local babes. Sam was smiling, laughing, displaying his dimples, cocking his head, looking deeply into their eyes while sucking on jar caps. I have never seen such shameful flirting in my life. It made me both embarrassed to see such a display, and extremely envious at how effective it was.

I enclose a photo of Sam and his posse.


Currently, Sam is fast asleep at the end of an exciting day. I don't even want to guess what he is dreaming about.

I find myself disturbed, yet craving a beer...

If girls in bikinis are called "Cheesecake", and boys in bikini briefs are called "Beefcake", does that make this "Crabcake"?

I recently saw this ad that was part of a beer campaign. It featured a crab with grotesquely large breasts in a bikini. Creepy.

Just what demographic is this aimed at?

Home Alone

Gab's away for 5 days on a pleasure trip to mid-winter Winnipeg, leaving Pat & the boy to fend for themselves.


Will they make it?

Who will get voted off first?

Will Pat get by on his grade 2 Spanish? Or Sam on his grade 3 Spanish?

Will they wander by accident (or maybe on purpose?) into the anti-free trade riots that are currently gripping the city?

Follow their wacky adventures and high-jinks every week, Thursdays, right after "Seinfeld".

Celebrity weighs heavily on me

I'm used to being something of a freak in Latin America—being over 6 feet and light-skinned can, especially in areas off the tourist track, make you acutely aware of your own appearance. However, walking the streets of Guatemala city has really been something different.

"Hey Good Looking!" women shout. "What a beautiful face!" the girls swoon. "What a cute fatty!" (Okay, I could do without that one) I'm constantly having to acknowledge these catcalls with a gracious smile and a "gracias". It's exhausting. We came to order tortillas at a tortilla store, and the tortilla girls practically collapsed into a collective giggle/swoon.

Driving Miss Daisy Fuentes: The Object of Desire and his transport. What am I, chopped liver?

For some reason, Sam in his backpack carrier evokes the strongest reactions from people and I'm not sure why. I've seen other (Guatemalan) babies, and they don't get the reaction Sam does. Maybe it's partly it's because he's light skinned ("Ay que blanco!" is a common exclamation), and I guess the image of him mounted on me like a pack mule is something of a novelty.

But it's an odd sensation from my perspective, like carrying Harrison Ford on your back. I can't see Sam when I'm porting him around, so the impression is of people constantly yelling at me, smiling at me, blowing kisses. As his curator, I feel compelled to turn so that people can see him, and to acknowledge compliments on his behalf. Harrison Ford's personal assistant, handler, as well as his driver. And when he is physically able to cause more damage, maybe also his lawyer.

I tell Sam, "Enjoy it while you can."

A Typical Day

Most of our shopping is done at this grocery store. It is stocked with all the amenities one would expect: bank machine, photo developing centre, deli—Guatemalan style of course with Tamales, Stuffed Peppers, Sausages, etc, Bakery and so on. We often carry Sam on a back carrier that has become a sensation there.

Pat's note: check out the guy with the shotgun at the front door! (click for a blowup) You get used to them surprisingly quick...

Some people beleive it is a torture for the child to be up there because they believe the carrier produces heat. Others believe it is torture for the parents who have to carry the child on their back. The assumption here is that children Sam's age are hand-carried. No stroller, no back carrier, and no walking.

We walk home via this park which I believe now has a different name but it used to be called up until a few years ago Parque Morazan. The municipality has spent much money and effort fixing this type of urban oasis up. It now has a freshly painted fence, manicured flower beds and a cement and rubber children's play area.

Some days we eat at Casa de Los Melaza.

Pat's note: "Casa de Los Melaza" is named after a comic strip—it translates into "House of The Lockhorns". Why? No idea.

An unassuming place that gives full breakfasts, lunches and snacks. It is run by a couple that are quite a lot of fun. Their food is fresh and very tasty. Sam enjoys a good flirt with the owner and is a big fan of the soups.

The Traveling Baby

Traveling with a baby is surprisingly easier than I would have expected. In part because with a baby you are always used to expecting the unexpected. But it is also easier because babies and kids are everywhere here.

No one seems to mind their screaming for joy or other reasons and there a many kid friendly playgrounds at places that adults can also enjoy too. Even issues that one would think of as difficult such as sterilizing baby bottles or finding age appropriate food are no longer as thorny as before. If you have the money of course....





It is a learning experience in many ways. First, in terms of how culturally specific parenting styles seem to be and how children raised in particular ways develop attitudes about socializing, sleeping, and coping in general that are not so much natural as bred. Also, it makes me realize how fearful of change on can become how doing something different can be so much more difficult in one's mind than it actually is in practice.

Antigua

We just spent a few days in a town called Antigua (which is short for "Antigua Guatemala"—Old Guatemala, as opposed to "New Guatemala" City). It is a lovely spot—so thinks the UN (it was declared a World Heritage site in 1979) and about 15,000 other gringos that crawl the streets. Yes, it is a bit on the touristy side which means lots and lots of trinkets and gringo food for sale, and more capuccino machines than you can shake a biscotti at.

The city was virtually destroyed in 1773, and many monumental buildings remain in ruins—ruins that have been sitting there for over 200 years. The combination of picture-perfect historical "tradition" and the tourist hoards really makes you wonder about the whole authenticity thing (again). But if this is Guatemala a la Disney, it's very well done!

A rooftop and some typical local/tourist interaction:



Here is a 4-way shot at a typical (but by no means spectacular) Antigua intersection.


Founded in 1543, Antigua was the administrative capital of a large portion of Spanish Mesoamerica (including modern Chiapas, part of Yucatán, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rica) for some 200 years, so it was a major centre in the Empire.

Unfortunately, the people who chose temperate Ottawa as the Canadian capital must have had a hand in picking this spot: Antigua is located immediate adjacent to several active volcanoes that basically wiped the city out several times. (Antigua was actually spot #2—the first capital was wiped out by a flood in 1541) After the 1773 quake they gave up, packed up the old kit bag, and left for current Guatemala city.