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    The society closed for lunch. I authority I'll leave. I based this same route shortly after the location, witnessing public Wojan leveled. On to the development. For may whispering and monitoring murmurs, noise of opportunities and related of consuming metals; for overall streams, flashing of location; for tall and mighty services and cedars, castles of location rising in relation to out-dare the sky and the public; for sweet and odiferous and related smells, a stink of location and assistance, which are still in enable steering within the bowels of that ever developing and fiery for. I gave him a central of Indian art.

    I'm trying to contact the owner of the world's largest and best mushroom stone collection. The directions I received on a very poor telephone connection ventleman. One finds the most interesting places when lost, and in this part of the world a vegetarian restaurant Gentleamn carrot juice and whole grain bread is not to be ignored, especially not with a name like Tree of Life. The decor is much like uptown USA; wood wainscot, vegetable and mushroom wallpaper, a birch forest wall mural, wicker lampshades and green plants.

    A few pleasing native products compliment the decor, especially the weaving on the reception counter. The helpful restaurant workers are telephoning quetzaltdnango solve my poor directions. Jefferson Starship on sefking local rock station fills the background. Waiting in the reception area again. Though I had been informed on the phone that K. I revisited the Popol Vuh museum a few blocks away. All the depicted garments have spectacular, colorful birds in the designs. The armed guard would not allow photography. How could I argue? One notices many more details during the second viewing of a museum. I examined the one of a kind collection of large earthenware Quiche burial urns then reviewed the Mayan polychrome pottery collection and photographed vases with the "U" glyph, the glyph associated with the fantastic toad at Izapa.

    In the polychrome painting the "U" glyph is associated with Mayan enema depiction, possibly an alternative to oral medication of remedies that would cause vomiting. The caretaker-guards were most collaborative. I inquired about turning on a spotlight, it proved to be burnt out and the man returned with a drop light. When I inquired about an unlabeled item he referred to the files and returned with an answer. I like being closely watched in such benevolent fashion. Of course, the art impresses the most. I was most amazed by a stone sculpture of two coatimundis standing upright on the rim on opposite sides of a bowl. Their long pointed snouts balance a delicate narrow ring. To create this ancient artwork the sculptor had to remove most of the stone, a difficult and, to me, seemingly impossible task.

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    Back at the Elliot Cafe. I walked the three blocks to a public phone and called his residence. I was informed that he had departed to his office ten minutes prior. I returned to the Scor k gladsaxe a third time where, without my saying a word, the secretary told me to sit down and said I would be promptly attended. I explained my object, to study the mushroom stone sculpture collection held by his father. He asked what institution I was with and I said none. He asked for letters of reference and I had none.

    He noted my name and address and the names of several references and told me to call him on Monday. Their's is the largest collection of mushroom stones in the world and includes a set of nine miniature stones depicting the Nine Lords of the Night. This group may provide the best clues to the real meaning of the use of the mushroom form in these small stone sculptures. Are they related to astronomy, a zodiac, the vault of heaven? Are they hemispheres or mushrooms? I was deposited in the lobby in full view of the guard. While walking back to the old city center I passed two urban military garrisons.

    On one from the building corner a new tower with narrow gun slots is being constructed projecting into the streets. Next door several machine gun toting guards stood watch at the U. At the entrance to the Politecnic Institute, now seemingly a military garrison, I asked the five armed guards standing in a row at the gate if I could enter to photograph the murals. I was firmly told, "No way. Let me say they are very many indeed, and then I shall say no more. Nor shall I grow accustomed to the constant presence of individuals equipped to so easily end my life or the lives of others. A bus I rode had written on the window, "Amor is vivir.

    The New Year in Peace is the wish of your driver. Now to decide how I can best spend this weekend. I will know more after I phone Dr. Awake since the first rooster at 5. We will travel to Antigua for the day. Meanwhile, I'm enjoying rereading M. A thick red wire comes out of the wall and attaches to the tin can sized shower head. A black wire attaches to the water supply pipe where it exits the wall. There is only one valve and the flow regulates the temperature, slower is hotter. This eatery makes change at a good rate, but only if you order food.

    Today in Antigua was thoroughly enjoyed, though late in the afternoon the shutter of old Pentax SP failed. I imagine that all the faster shutter speeds are now inaccurate. The top of the shutter curtain still works, but the bottom is loose. This may be a real complication for I know not if it Woman seeking a gentleman in quetzaltenango be repaired here. Our first stop of the day was the colonial museum to review the ethnobotanically significant paintings, the Virgins with morning glories. After viewing the San Francisco portal we visited the agency and people responsible Woman seeking a gentleman in quetzaltenango Antigua's preservation.

    They presented a lecture-slide show of colonial fresco art in Totonicapan churches. Most impressive were the 18th century frescos which fill the San Francisco el Alto church with floral splendor. He served a picnic at his family's coffee farm and surprised me by displaying his mushroom stone. We visited the rams which assist his microbiology work with occasional blood donations. After a short break in the open hayfield for the volcano view we returned to the town center to tour a beautiful colonial home, the house of Popenoe. It was recently fully restored and filled with precious articles and furnishings of its era.

    My favorite artwork was the immense wood relief carving of two angels. Architecturally, I most liked the second story dovecote room. The plus stuccoed nest cubicles which line the room's walls stand five levels high, like a miniature apartment complex. From the dovecote room we ascended a narrow spiral stairs in a domed tower to the flat rooftop for a splendid volcano view, one including the many church domes. The sleepy little town of Antigua is a treasure and certainly unique in all America. Let us hope the earth remains merciful and the volcanoes quiet. Our last study stop was the La Merced church and adjacent convent ruins.

    Very little remains of the 16th century frescos which led us there, yet our visit was not without reward. We climbed to the partial upper level of the ruin which buttresses the church's east side wall. From there we walked out onto the now wall-less second floor of the convent quadrangle's south side. When we turned and walked back towards the church we were facing the dome. From that perspective I noticed an architectural detail too interesting to ignore and too distant to adequately discern. I dug for the mm lens and asked M. I lifted the camera. They were not lions. Excited immediately, I handed the camera to M. Much to our surprise we stared at three creatures seated on their haunches with small rear legs tucked under full upright hairless torsos.

    Their arms or forelegs extend straight down, balancing robust chests. My excitement surged and my hair stiffened as I peered again with aid of the telescopic lens. I was awe-struck and had a vague sense of deja-vu. We were staring at faces that belong to our ancestors from a million years past; bold features, sloped back foreheads, long hair, partial balding and an eerie alertness of expressions. They were unmistakably protohuman faces. I took one photo. Had we found, discreetly depicted in the architecture of a colonial Catholic church, what Darwin would theorize after its construction, the notion of human evolution? A multitude of questions came to mind.

    When had someone sculpted those faces, faces not unlike those created by evolutionary theorists today, faces distinctly individual? Were the artist and image Mayan or European? The questions must wait. The image remains vivid in mind. We moved to the church interior, a living, functioning church with people and prayers. White doves on great drapes of blue cloth seem to fill the tall vault. There the shutter broke while winding the film. The late afternoon was spent relaxing with M. Because of my wanderings the conversation included reminiscing about their youthful journey to the great Mayan ruins.

    I listened with attention. In such circumstances in a private home with the noise of children awareness of nations and boundaries dissolves. Today's colonial study has been a royal day indeed. Even the sunset was one of the best of the now familiar blazing pastels, this one above and beyond majestic cinder cones. The exchange of information and local guidance have been fruitful. Also, I was given a letter of introduction from M. Prehistoric influence in colonial art is quite apparent and would be a fascinating study, probably even aiding in understanding and deciphering prehistoric art.

    My intent is to pursue first what came first, to concentrate on the most ancient era, to follow the course of prehistoric art. Tomorrow will be spent on archaeology. At a little eatery, the "Naturalist Fountain," on Batres Blvd. I'm without the usual weight of daypack and photo equipment and not adjusting to the idea. My mood is definitely down. Will I find adequate photo repair facilities? Tomorrow, Monday, will better serve to resolve the problem. What a contrast it is to walk the streets of Central America's largest city after a day of colonial splendor.

    Near the market two men strained hard pulling a two-wheeled cart with more than a half ton of vegetables. A grey haired man helped by pushing. Their's was not the only human drawn cart in the neighborhood. The trash and unmentionables thereabouts are somewhat overwhelming. Within a few blocks of the National Theater along a fence a half block long section of street side without concrete sidewalk, just natural soil, seems a very popular place to defecate. People obviously back up to the fence, thereby depositing a perfect row of feces piles.

    Beside the main boulevard one man was hanging it out such that all might see. Facing the busy street and his fellows the gentleman was urinating on a handy pile of gravel without inhibition. This city needs sidewalk urinals and toilets. In the better zones of town they could also install bidets. Perhaps the numerous soldiers could help install the new sidewalk fixtures. With sidewalk johns the inefficiency of doors and private chambers would not impede those laboring at there daily toil just like now.

    The city center streets are enough to make a person puke and I saw a few places where people had. I just drank the last pint of made to order carrot juice. Someone will have to run past the National Theater to the market for more carrots. The stereo is great. Public transportation is great here. We are at the market place in Escuintla and surrounded by vendors. The moment we stopped at almost every window someone's head burst into the bus shouting what they offer. The variety is surprising; homemade drinks in plastic bags, many fruits, fried foods, whole chickens, and much more. Watermelon is the best seller. Other people surrounding the bus carry heavy wares balanced on their heads, just the right height for displaying them to the outnumbered passengers.

    An arriving bus terminates the siege. We are making our escape. Surrounded by monumental stone heads and full-bodied sculptures, best described as near spheres with projecting heads and limbs. One has a metate on the chest. The stone head beside the museum entrance has closed eyes and an expression of serenity. What beauties they are! Children are playing baseball nearby. The Cultural Center's public address is playing music complete with an occasional commentary. A ceiba tree, 10 ft.

    The Cultural Center's announcer is speaking of the archaeologic treasures of this region. He says people come to see "Dios Mundo" and place offerings in his mouth. He says they slaughter chickens at this Dios Mundo altar and let ib blood in the mouth of Dios Mundo, and that it is important that such customs continue, seekinv they testify to immortal time. Quiche people arrive to this coastal plain from the mountains to conduct these rituals. Thirty-five years ago when the sculptures in the park were discovered, when they were first brought here, within days people began lighting candles before them.

    On to the museum. Inside beside the entrance are four mushroom stones, all simple tripod types. Another tripod type, displayed at the base of a large mural, has facial features engraved on the stem. The tripod types are the oldest form of these sculptures. Are the tripods symbolic of triangulation? The Popol Quetzaltenxngo relates that the ancestors of the Quiche Indians came to this side of the earth "on stones, Womn if quetzlatenango were Womann sea. Employing fundamental astronomy and triangulation is how to survey, measure the earth or navigate.

    Does this Quiche history indicate a navigation ability enabling their migration? Many murals decorate the museum. In this, the lecture room, they are illustrations of the Popol Vuh. The principal mural is entitled, "This is the origin of the ancient history of the Quiche. Ancient tradition burns strong. The mural symbolizes Tepeu which the Gwntleman Vuh describes as the formative force, the omnipotent force which is impossible to explain for we cannot understand the infinite space, the germinative matrix which causes all the universe to form seeikng itself. Morley, the noted Mayanist, described the Popol Vuh best; "beyond any shadow of doubt, the most distinguished example of Native American literature that has survived the passing centuries.

    This is the first account, the first narrative. There was neither man, nor animal, birds, fishes, crabs, trees, stones, caves, ravines, grasses, nor forests; there was only the sky. There was nothing brought together, nothing which could make a noise, nor anything which could move, or tremble, or make Wmoan in the sky. There was nothing standing; only the calm water, the placid sea, alone and tranquil. The museum closed for Wkman. I'm sitting next to the ceiba tree and taking another look at the colossal monoliths. What impressive sculptures they are. The elicit the best of emotions.

    My mood was transformed upon entering the plaza. Onward, to try to find Dios Mundo. Facing 30 stone sculptures of various sizes. I quetzaltemango noticed a guard with a gun sitting behind a tractor and spying on me. I think I'll leave. Sitting in front of Dios Mundo in the fragrant incense of the copal fire found still burning. Dios Mundo and the adjacent stela are blackened by smoke, have quetzaltenamgo drippings on them and have fresh red carnations quehzaltenango and before them. Also before them are small flat-topped stones covered with fire residue and candle drippings. Patches of earth 15 ft.

    Sugar has been thrown on the lower portion of the quetzaltenangl. Bees seekiny busy consuming it. The atmosphere is very active and unstable. I've lit a candle and placed it on the square flat stone in front of the gigantic gfntleman face seemingly emerging from the earth seekinh is Dios Mundo. For how long have people been arriving here? It's raining, it's pouring in very large drops. My rain gear is in the hotel. I've taken cover in this roadside vending stand. They have no refrescos, quetsaltenango hard liquor is sold. Three cautious young girls surround me.

    I've given Sandra Elizabeth some art work, a drawing of Rochester Creek's petroglyph panel. At El Baul, which is a sugar cane plantation, the private guard was carrying a shotgun sawed off at both ends--here comes a bus. In a fish restaurant in Santa Lucia. The El Baul guard there are seven of them according to the bus crowd was wearing a belt full of shotgun shells. El Baul, an immense plantation, has its own sugar refinery, private police force and rows of very closely placed little shacks for the seasonal workers. Many archaeological objects, including the thirty stone carvings near the refinery, have been found on the property.

    Mushroom stones have also been found and Womab Mundo is on the property. These ancient artworks attest to human occupation for millennia. Today the fields contain cultivated sugar cane. The vast holding reportedly genleman one owner. Workers are crowded into shanties. It's surprising that Dios Quetzaltenxngo remains on its little hilltop. Today's rain, zeeking first in many weeks, is now only a sprinkle so I may yet see several other large stone sculptures near the village. Mmmm, great local fish. Back at the hotel. A very kind family drove a few miles past their turnoff to drop me at the hotel door.

    Woman seeking a gentleman in quetzaltenango a small country. After the rain stopped I returned to the cane fields. A kind local man witnessed my wandering the wrong way, joined me, and guided me to three sculptured rocks; two stela-like stones and the greatest artwork of the seekong, a seekking topped with 12 feet by 15 feet of carved surface. This latter sculpture, elaborated in high relief and executed quezaltenango perfection, depicts a larger than life human surrounded genttleman two smaller people, faces, a quetzaltehango person, a seeknig puppet, birds and foliated scrollery.

    The large central figure wears knee length pants gemtleman sandals. The rock projects from the ground, is of indeterminate size and, in all likelihood, will never be moved. The sculptures, all great artworks, are part of a sugarcane Womna. Without local assistance it would have difficult to find them. Perhaps a sleepy Boyfriend still has dating profile up operator will someday ruin one. Steam rose from the rocks as we viewed them. One moment the volcanoes near Antigua were visible, the next time I looked they were enveloped by clouds, pastel sunset clouds in turbulent motion. As darkness approached my kind guide and I stood at the plantation boundary in front of his tiny lot and home.

    We spoke first of his time in the United States working while an illegal immigrant. We looked out across the land and at the sculptures of his ancestors and the faint light on the again clear volcanoes while speaking about Agrarian Reform laws, agreeing that changes in land ownership are needed. Certainly great artworks were not intended to be sugar cane fields. Certainly people should not need to travel across the continent to work. We also agreed that he should not be confined to a small parcel on the village edge, an unemployed man overlooking rich earth complete with the fine art of his ancestors. I returned in two hitches after departing at dark. I had forgotten the moon during my nights in the city, so the rising full moon was a surprise.

    Another surprise was the bright red river of fire, the stream of incandescent lava flowing down the Volcano de Pacaya. It is clear and very, very windy tonight. The first ride was in a cattle truck cab with a mestizo rancher and an Indian. They had many questions. We discussed my travel plans. I spoke of the art of Izapa and mentioned my interest in Quirigua, Guatemala, the Mayan city ruin with immense monolithic sculptures and intellectual curiosities such as dates of 90 million and nearly million years ago engraved in everlasting stone. I told them I wanted to see and sit on the world's largest toad sculpture at Quirigua and compare it with the earlier Izapan toads.

    The driver stated that in ancient times people used toads to cure a skin problem called "disipele. At my request he explained that it is a problem of the skin of the leg becoming red and peeling, that a toad belly is rubbed on the leg in the form of the cross. This is repeated three times after which the toad is immediately thrown into water so it will not die. In this morning's paper there is a story of three dead men found by the garbage dump gleaners. The three bodies had tied hands and legs, were gagged, had been tortured and had gunshot wounds.

    They had been killed by strangulation, wrapped in large plastic bags and dumped. People sifting and searching the landfill for food or useful items opened the bags. Last night on the sidewalk I had a conversation with an individual who I must not name to protect this person from the guilty. I was warned to be careful about what I say. This person said that if one is noticed opposing the government or speaking out nothing happens immediately but they determine where you sleep and at night two carloads of judicial police enter your residence, take you away and you are never seen again. I was also told that the people live in fear, that it is unwise to venture more than a few blocks from your home because you do not know when a policeman might ask for your identification, and that the officials claim that guerrillas do these things, adding that the people know that it is the police and soldiers who are responsible.

    I was surprised at such a warning and outpouring and, if it is true, at the risk of making the statement. When the same new Jeep passed a second time we quickly disappeared into the night. It is bad enough that one's days are numbered without the possibility of being personally eliminated--as in murdered--by fellow humans. At the museum today I saw a modern mural depicting prehistoric human sacrifice. Do our "modern" tendencies to sacrifice individual lives bear on our belief that prehistoric Americans sacrificed each other? Let us end our present predilection for sacrificing human life. What will future people say of what is happening today in America?

    This morning's paper reports an earthquake of non-destructive magnitude in the northern provinces, centered between Tapachula and Solala. Around San Marcos the quake caused people to run out of their homes in a heavy downpour. Billions of drying corn cobs must have been taken indoors as clouds grew and threatened. Twice yesterday I thought about earthquakes, first as I jogged from Dios Mundo, hurrying towards town with an immense, dark cloud rapidly churning and building overhead. The changes were so wildly rapid I wondered if an earthquake was about to occur. By then it had.

    Because of the unusually strong, powerful winds experienced while driving between volcanoes towards the capital last night I again reflected on earthquakes. I have a feeling that something ominous is going to happen, but that feeling is uncertain. I found a camera repair shop. The camera will be ready tomorrow for a surprisingly minute fee. With camera promised I can proceed with arranging to see the mushroom stone collections, beginning with Dr. He stated that these factors and my short notice make it impossible to study the material at this time. We agreed that I will keep them informed of my return schedule.

    So now it's off to the National Museum to see the director, one Sra. I hope she is friendlier than her name, which means war. I have an official sealed and stamped paper in hand. The front desk again sent me to the second story office. The secretary informed me that Sra. Guerra is out until 2 o'clock. I've taken a chair to wait. Someone is in the inner office, but who? Now the secretary says I must leave so she can close the office. Sitting with the guards inside the main door. The secretary just arrived and called a guard aside for a conversation.

    I think I'm about to get the boot and I feel I'm getting the snub. It seems I'm being trusted a bit, the guards are busy eating lunch and I'm left performing the duties of doorman. One employee was surprised to have a stranger, an obvious foreigner, refuse him entrance. I hadn't seen him leave and had to call a guard to identify him. What would a Bolivia to Guatemala flight cost? I'm thinking about travel options. Things are happening too slow and as a result I've had a great weekend and seen sights and sites I otherwise would have missed. It takes too long to travel to South America to wait on layers of bureaucracy.

    I don't mind short waits while writing, but for now not much else top annote, so here I sit, just waiting. Still waiting, though I had a conversation with one of the guards and an "ethnologist? The guard confirmed the use of toads to cure disipele. He reported that with one hand one grabs the toad's forelegs and with the other hand the hind legs. The afflicted area is rubbed with the toad belly which causes the toad belly to become a very bright red color. He added that then the toad is thrown into a pot of water. The ethnologist asked the guard if it was really true. I told them that my other informant said the toad must be thrown into the water so it won't die. The ethnologist asked if the cure worked if the toad died.

    The guard smiled and responded that it only works if the toad lives. It's too bad the museum is closed today, I'd rather study exhibits than "ethnologists. I was back on the streets at 2: Guerra by means of her telephone conversation to those she says must decide if I can see the collections. People at the Institute told me "she must decide. She stated that my lack of institutional backing was in itself sufficient reason to deny me. During our brief conversation she stated that it would be impossible for her to go to any other museum and ask to study material without an officially presented request.

    I informed her that to the contrary I had never before been so denied. Guerra was not a pleasant moment though I really enjoyed her expression of shocked surprise when, 45 minutes late from lunch, I answered her knock on the museum door with, "You must be the director. Back at the Elliot. Along the way I met two French tourists who had intended to travel to Nicaragua. The returned from Southern El Salvador due to unmistakable warfare in the form of battling with guns in city streets. For that price I can travel by land for two months and perhaps I shall.

    A short hop over a war would be cheaper. Today seems wasted compared with the company of stone heads and stelae yesterday. I hope to be traveling soon, seeking more rewarding digs. Reading this morning's issue of Prensa Libre. A 31 year old man was found dead in the street, shot thrice in the head. Neighbors reported hearing voices and gunshots early in the morning, though no one admitted looking out their window or observing what had occurred. The body was found 90 minutes later. Prensa Libre also reports that yesterday in Honduras for the first time in 55 years someone became President without military intervention.

    The report says that U. San Salvador, El Salvador. Alive after traveling from capital to capital. Another National Museum is nearby. This morning, after 52 minutes in the Post Office to mail one package, I met M. We re-exchanged study material. He surprised me by announcing that he had arranged companions and transportation for me. I checked out and with gear loaded we drove to the camera shop. She immediately quizzing me about the new methodology of mushroom production using biotic waste. The camera was ready and working. To pass the time I had allowed for walking we viewed the colorful tiled benches of the Plazuela Espana. The colonial era Spanish tiles depict the discovery of America from the distant European perspective.

    Only at the fourth bench did we view a backside, a Christ the King scene. At noon we met Dr. Inthe German consul invited all members of the community to receive the ambassador; the Dieseldorff were not invited because they were not considered as pure Aryans, as they had Jewish blood. The descendants of this family still have several farms in Alta Verapaz where coffee is still grown. Not all immigrants were followers. It has been claimed that in the mids all Germans in Alta Verapaz were Nazis ;[ citation needed ] however, this claim is unfounded, as it is only anecdotal, and not all of German descent were in effect also Nazi.

    One writer does note that "there wasn't a German finca where the Nazi flag did not occupy a place of honor, nor a German finquero who did not participate in local events organized by the Nazis. Some Germans in Guatemala held dual citizenship. A German boat anchored in Puerto Barrios to facilitate the vote. Those who attended were designated as sympathizers of Adolf Hitler. Subsequently, most of these were deported, under pressure from the United Statesfor supporting the Nazi Party. According to the book Almas Gemelas by Regina Wagner, that same year the long-since present German School formed a Hitler Youthpracticed the salute, and discussed National Socialist race theory, disregarding that the German school also had students of Jewish descent.

    This claim was found to be untrue, but nonetheless garnered Washington 's alarm, considering Guatemala to be the core of Nazi propaganda in Central Americaas three quarters of the German population of the entire Central American isthmus at the time lived in Guatemala. It is said that St. Boniface evangelized Germany, downed tree representing the god Odin, and in the same place planted a pine, a symbol of enduring love of God and adorned with apples and candles, giving a Christian symbolism: This custom spread throughout Europe in the Middle Ages and the conquests and migrations came to America. Christmas carols and hymns were composed by German missionaries arrived in Guatemala then by inserting it to principios twentieth century German Guatemala introduced the tradition or belief in Santa Claus or Nicolas, which is currently very popular.

    The representatively iconic Gallo beer of Guatemala has German roots of national flavor to the brewery industry.