Merry Christmas to All...

In the past week or so I have come to recognize the now familiar “clop-clop” coming up the street. After two years here I thought that I had discovered all customs, holidays, excuses for fireworks, etc. It turns out that in my Christmastime absence and my habit of not going out after dark, I had entirely overlooked the tradition of La Posada. Driving home from a friend’s house in the evening about a week ago I noticed the “clop-clop” for the first time. “La Posada!” Lhess exclaimed, and immediately pulled over. In the five-minute drive back to my house we had already pit-stopped once to explore a rocking ranchero concert in front of the muni, so the night was looking pretty exciting for Patzún. I hurried down to the corner in time to see a group pass by with candles, carrying a nativity scene, led by a child beating rhythm on a turtle shell- the “clop-clop, clop-clop” that announces the posada to the neighbors. “Let’s go with them,” Lhess insisted. I resisted because I didn’t see anyone I knew in the procession. I also had a hard time believing that just anyone could join in and follow the nativity to house where you would be given free ponche, a traditional Christmas punch. I LOVE ponche; it was too good to be true. For the prospect of free ponche only I fell instep behind the group. I only began to believe Lhess when I asked another woman in the group where we were going and she responded, “No idea.”

Thus I was introduced to this beautiful tradition of La Posada; for the 10 days or so before Christmas, nativities are carried each night through the town from one house to another, accompanied by candles, songs, and of course, fireworks. The turtle shell beat announces the passing of the posada for anyone who wants to join in. The procession represents Mary and Joseph’s search for lodging in Bethlehem. When the procession finally arrives at the assigned house, the group sings at the doorway to request entry. Those inside sing back in response, denying entry until, through the song, they finally realize that it is Mary and Joseph at the door. Then, in a tumble of children fighting for good seats, the procession carrying the nativity is ushered in and all are served ponche and a snack.

Even once I understood how it worked in theory, I was still a bit nervous about just showing up in a stranger’s house to be served food and drink. It was a night of Christmas miracles however, as we happened to be heading toward the home of one of my friends from my basketball team and the social worker from the health center. We ran ahead of the procession and made it inside on time to sing on the side of the hosts, and get the closest seats to the kitchen.

Now at night when I hear the clop-clop in the streets, it feels like Christmas, a time when people open their houses to strangers to share in a warm drink and snack and celebrate compassion, neighborliness, and the refuge Mary and Joseph were given in a stable.

Merry Christmas to all my family and friends back in the U.S.! Although I am enjoying new Christmas traditions here in Guatemala, I miss you and love you all and will be thinking of you this Christmas.