Christendom and Globalization

 

The dental/medical brigade banquet at the end of the week was hosted in the town's castle. A high school dancing class performed several traditional Honduran dances.

I like how in Honduras town limits are always announced as "welcome to so-and-so a town," instead of the plain "entering---" that I mostly remember from the States. Someone in La Campa was brave enough to lasso themselves to a tree and paint a nice welcome sign on the mountainside.

Isn't this a pleasant purple-green flowering tree/bush? The main Catholic church is seen in the background.

Christendom in La Campa: the heart of Latin American History

Over the weekend, I traveled to a small historic town named La Campa with Dra. Raquel and Don Alfonso Carranza, an anthropologist who teaches history and art at the local university. During the half-hour drive there, I marvelled at how many villages, homes, families, and people Don Carranza could affably recall as we passed certain landmarks. His simple but reverent interest in the lives of various villagers and his excitement in understanding their cultures is admirable. Perhaps because he initially studied botanical anthropology, he takes a holistic approach to understanding the workings of a place by including its terrain, vegetation, and inhabitants and studying the location's history, economy, and culture. Although he only spoke Spanish, I've remembered some of his phrases and find them worth quoting throughout this post. When Dra. and I expressed our marvel at how many people's lives he knew about, he said, "The best part of life is friendship." He would often go on 'a rabbit trail,' talking about one of his publications or some extensive topic but would pause as we passed a dirt road or homely house by saying, "parenthesis" to talk about "the man who lives in that delightful house who doesn't need anything but salt as he makes all his clothes and food" or how this or that village came to be. In La Campa, we casually visited various parts of the village, including a Catholic church, where I believe the heart of Latin American history lies. Although a devout Catholic, Don Carranza discussed the often shameful history of Spain and the Catholic church freely. He described the exploitation of indians that occured with the establishment of each village and how similar trends continue today, even if the Cahtolic church has been replaced by other powers and indians have different names. He explained that the typical Spanish village was centered around the church. On one of its sides would be the plaza and municipal buildings and the police station/jail on the other. The rich would settle around these three landmarks and stay within the premises, unaware of and uninterested in life on the outskirts. I wonder if something similar still exists in Latin America today. Honduran interpreters accompanying the brigade last week explained that they enjoyed going to the villages with brigades because otherwise they would never know about or visit those communities (some of which are not accounted for in the major cities' census bureaus). Is the drastic socioeconomic difference between large city and mountain village a result of these communities living mutually exclusive lives?

At this point photos might speak better regarding my impressions of La Campa:

Before we went inside the church, Don Corranza explained, "Religion and power have always been together," referring to this double headed eagle at the shrine of a royal saint who once had some influence in the town.

This image of Mary reminded me of the nativity scene (as there were animals). I found myself searching for baby Jesus...in vain, for there were only two children or village images worshiping Mary alongside the animals. I suppose this is why Catholicism is often accused of pushing Jesus to the margins of their faith.

This large painting interested me...It appears that it depicts people with royal and religious head-dresses and rosaries in hell (where the light bulb is appropriately placed) and nude angel-looking figures suspended in a space between the inferno and heaven...I'm not sure who the two figures in the clouds are. Dra. suggested that people might place candles at the painting for their ancestors' sake (who might be in purgatory).

This cross, as many crosses from the Christendom era, is a symbol for "the church making peace with war." The 'holy mission' seems to be depicted as that which requires the heart's blood dripped into a golden cup, under which two swords cross in front of a ladder.

This saint appears so holy and earnest (I might even mistake him for an image of Jesus), but does the large spear seem to belong...does it bother us...does it represent the man's earnest loyalty to an unspiritual authority?

If anything puts me at ease (or into pleasant meditation) in a Catholic or Eastern Orthodox church, it is the candles. Some are tall; some have burned short. Some stand erect and others tilted. Most are uniform but occasionally one that stands out appears in the midst. Some are placed in nice holders and others are adhered in their own wax. ...but all inherit the same fate in the wax pile after burning out.

A side door in the church is securely locked and blocked by a bench-like pew, but there are several peep-holes that allow exchange between the interior of the curch and the outdoors. 

Another Catholic church is called "the church of the children" because, as Don Corranza explains, nearly all the children of the town died from a cholera outbreak and were buried in a common grave in the church yard.

Globalization: churros and fresca trod the path for medical missions teams

Driving up mountainsides to various villages with the brigade last week (and to visit the historic town over the weekend), I noticed that these narrow dirt roads were lined with plastic packaging and bottles from refined foods just as the paved main roads in Gracias. From some views, cascades of trash were seen to descend from the road down the sides of the mountain. After bouncing around on dusty and rocky roads for over an hour we would arrive at a village with the brigade to find a line of people near the school (ready for our services). On the opposite side of the street, vendors would set up booths, selling typical street foods, fresca (pop), and churros (chips). I wonder if their profits increased significantly during the brigade when people had to wait in line all day. I was somewhat astonished to see various children whose teeth were extracted minutes ago reappearing with a soda or bag of chips. Within the first day, this became a common sight and eventually lost its strangeness. Now, I wonder if at least three things mentioned above are intimately interconnected. Could it be that when remote villages gain access to the market of refined foods, their streets become polluted and their health (oral, in the least) deteriorates? Maybe the introduction of an urban (or global) diet is responsible for damage to the terrain and health of rural villages. The trucks bearing refined foods have only to make their rounds for a short time before the road is 'paved' (or at least trodden down) for medical brigades. Both the necessity for these projects and the means of getting to the location are provided by the expansion of refined food markets. Ailment of the villagers is noticed readily and measures to treat the symptoms or effects of disease are taken (though no one actively questions why the disease has only then flourished or what could be causing it to do so). But I wonder at what point ecological ailment will be noticed. Will brigades from the States also arrive to extract the diseased ecological anatomy? Is there an organization that cares for Honduran terrain enough to fund such projects? Will someone eventually look at the big picture and bravely try a different approach? Again, I am faced with questioning the accuracy of existing medical brigade aims in addressing the actual causes of perceived problems. [My freshman biology and general chemistry class vocabulary have come in handy in this discussion--that is, the difference between accuracy and precision and the distinction between actual and proximate causes...Thank you EMU!]

As we awaited a typical village lunch (fried chicken wih fried green bannanas) under a tent 'comedor' (eatery), I noticed the surplus of Pepsi soda fridges surrounding the restaurant tents. Water was not available in the eateries. Don Coranza pointed out a Pepsi soda fridge beside the municipal building and said, "Where you see Coca-cola and Pepsi on every corner, you can be sure poverty is near." Whether the presence of superfluous soda is a cause or effect of poverty (among many other things) is hard to discern, but the trend may give us one more reason to stay away from those fizzy empty calories. : )

How's this for the restaurant kitchen? Watching your food be prepared is a plus. The absense of refigeration might be a problem, but perhaps it's no issue if most of the menu's food is deep fried.

This señora helped prepare our lunch. Her daughter showed us a little puppy sleeping in the corner of the tent. She said she found him on the street and has decided to become the pup's adopted mother. His name is 'colita' (little tail) and she tells him stories of animals and princesses to put him to sleep.

More history and customs of Gracias:

-15 years ago, there were no cell phones or land lines in Gracias. My host parents were tconsidered crazy for moving away from San Pedro Sula (a major city) to a place where they could only communicate with family through a central office telephone. They decided that the move was part of committing their family and life to service in the San Lucas clinic.

-5 years ago, there were no moto-taxis in Gracias. According to my host mom, people walked everywhere, lived closer to town, and had more time to converse, although some adhere to their walking customs even today.

-It is normal for Gracians to invite you to their birthday party by word of mouth a fore-night in advance. At the party, it is acceptable to ask to take some food home.

-It is customary in Gracias for the best man and maid of honor to pay for the church wedding decorations.

-An apodo is a nickname. Some Gracians go exclusively by their apodo and you may never know their real name (whereas in large cities only family may assign you a nickname).

-Macizo and puncha are used to express surprise or impression, like 'cool' or 'wow.'

La Campa, like Gracias, has a catracho (Honduran male) depicted near the plaza. I wonder if this is to honor the hardworking legacy that indians (and the populations that have replaced their working role) have carried on since Spanish settlement. Public schools are in session...so my host mom and I see less children waiting for the coffee-picking trucks on our morning walks.

A very cool-looking, fuzzy, legume-like plant grows out of the wall that encloses the Catholic 'church of the children.' Don Carranza (upon Dra.'s inquiry) informd us that the plant has a terrible taste.

Epiphytes grow on trees, roofs, and electrical wires in the area, but I have never seen a cactus epiphyte. Don Carranza suggested that the 'palomas' (pigeon) friends helped the cactus make its way up the church roof.

...And last but certainly not least, Don Alfonso Carranza, himself, in front of the main Catholic church. He explained that the grapes that decorate the church exterior are purely Spanish (as there were no grapes in Honduras...neither were there bananas or oranges, two of the most prevalent fruits today). He said that food is very significant in religious symbolism and art because "there isn't much more than food and God"...."and if God isn't providing for your necessitites, you search for another." I'm thankful to have met Don Carranza and to have learned from interacting with him during the daytrip. I might not study anthropology instead of dentistry (as he had suggested), but I may be interested in the field in my free time...Anthropology seems to be the most natural human occupation--that is, trying to understand nature, people, place, time, and how the four come together.

In the past week, I have found myself in the role of interpreter--on the brigade with Americans, in the clinic helping to search for a piece of hardware for the dental air compressor in a neighboring city, and interpreting a phone conversation from Spanish to Russian and vice versa (a first!) for a church acquaintence who had worked with an elderly Russian couple in Manassas, VA for several years but had no way of communicating with them without gestures that physical presence allows. It is hard to believe that I am in my final week of service in Gracias. Dra. and Carmen, the social worker at the clinic, have promised a village visit by the end of the week to show me their community health and dental education efforts with children. In a week I will be en route to Buenos Aires, Argentina. ...Happy late St. Valentine's day!