Church in Totonicapan and gay pride parade in Quezaltenengo

I took no pictures in Totonicapan where we attended a service on a Saturday for the people who bring their wares to the big market; however, the only people at the service were the grandchildren of the priest and one indigenous family with far too many children, one of whom disrupted the service so often that I thought if the family didn't take him in hand, I would have to!  The priest told us he hadn't held services for two months because of some hold up with the bishop on money, and his father had been sick.

After the service we went to lunch at Church's Chicken, which I believe is a chain, another opportunity for chicken, rice and tortillas.  Then, we went to meet a woman who was receiving scholarship money and heard her difficulties.  I began to feel that the people needed to complain and thought that induced us to give more money, but it really made me dig my heels in.  The vibe was negative, the problems insurmountable, and the ownership absent. 

We drove back to Quezeltenango for the gay pride parade where Roberto was going to speak, and boy, did I get photos to show a very different mind set and outlook!

There were two rallies going on at once, a practice that seems consistent with this culture of overlapping sounds, discourses and intentions.  One was a political rally because the president of the country is being investigated for corruption after the Vice President was ousted. The second rally, and the one we came to see, was the gay pride one, which was wild for a small, poor catholic country.  This was the homofopjia monster, and these are some of the people in the crowd.  At one point, Anita turned to me and said, "Look at the two elderly women over there," and I had to disappoint her by telling her that they were not women...

When this young man began to gyrate on the stage to roars of approval and hoots of delight, I wondered about the very large woman on stage behind him, and when more and more scantily dressed transvestites paraded and danced on the stage, I wondered if she thought about the way we were defining gender.  Who was usurping whose role?  Did she feel coopted, or have we women given over the frivolous facets of our womanhood to men who yearn to play that role?

As the dancing became more and more seductive with men dressed and presenting themselves Ina more sexual way than I have seen any women in this country present themselves, the crowds roared.  Here a very thin man, jiggled and shook and sang his/her heart out.  But when the dancer from Costa Rica bounced up on stage, I ran to catch some shots.

He began with a little skirt but very quickly took it off to reveal his very bare bottom with only 

a thong.  After the performance, I found him to ask where she was from.  Puntaranus, she exclaimed, distracted and reeking of alcohol.  Father Roberto arrived, hugging and chatting with his friends whom he has worked with in the streets late at night when he distributes condoms, advice, help, etc...  He asked that I take this photo where he looks as delighted as the man  on the left looks dismayed, disdainful, or frightened.  These ar definitely his people!

At the end of the dancing and singing, Roberto held up a candle and asked everybody to light one and parade around the square just as dusk was dropping down.  As we rounded the last corner of the square toward the stage, he was preaching about no more discrimination in Guatemala for homosexuality, etc...  I wasn't really sure what he said, but it sounded at the end as ough he was declaring that God was near, and just at that moment tremendous display of fireworks went off right above our heads.  I thought I'd never pull myself together.  It was quite extraordinary.  Onto tomorrow when we go to the women's prison....