Today is Guatemala's Independence Day. Yaneth and I spent our class time near Central Park, and we watched all of the high school marching bands play. I was shocked by the shear number of bands that exist in this area. There had to be at least twenty. It's not like in the US where marching bands play at sporting events and have a season. Apparently, here, they practice for months just for this one day. According to Yaneth, ever since there's been peace in the country (which is still relatively new), bands no longer march as that's an act that's thought to appear too militaristic. So instead, a lot of the bands dance down the street as they're playing their instruments. Their style is kind of a mix between line-dancing and rhythmic stepping, and it was truly enjoyable to watch.
After two hours of listening to the bands play, I started to feel really dizzy and like I was going to pass out. It's been a long time since I've experienced a feeling like that, but Yaneth was so sweet to me. She sat me down in a restaurant before walking me back to the school. I think it's because I hadn't eaten anything, didn't sleep much the night before and was standing in the hot sun for hours. After I returned to La Union and ate a banana, I was fine though.
At school, I found out why Estela wasn't at the house today. Apparently, her nephew was riding in the back of an old pick-up truck (with several other kids) and the gas tank spontaneously combusted, which threw several of the kids to the ground. Her nephew, who was eleven, died in the accident. It's amazing the lack of safety standards here. There's constantly people in the backs of pick-up trucks and you'd be hard-pressed to find anybody on a motorcycle with a helmet. I think the US is a little too consumed with safety, but there seems to be a lot of preventable accidents (like Estela's nephew) here. I wonder if people have a different attitude about these sorts of things, like that they're sad, but they just sort of happen. They are, in a way, inevitable. I'm not sure, but I do know I feel really bad for Estela. Family seems to mean everything here, and I'm sure the loss of a child is almost unbearable.
In the evening, Miranda, Nery and I went to Central Park to watch the bands play again (some of them even played American music, including a group that performed their rendition of Lady GaGa's "Bad Romance"). There were so many people there! Of course, there was no shortage of balloons and fireworks either (which, as those who know me well, know I'm TERRIFIED of), but thanks to some Xanax and ear plugs, I wasn't terribly bothered by any of it.
Some pictures of the bands and festivities in the park:
To view more pictures of my trip, go check out my album on facebook.
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