Antorcha

The antorchas, or torch runs, were cancelled across the country this year because of the "state of calamity" that was declared a week or so ago due to the extreme weather conditions and the subsequent road damage, mudslides, and accidents. Luckily up here in Alta Verapaz we didn't see much of the severe weather that they did in the West. So we decided to go ahead and do our torch run, but cut it short to be safe. Normally the tercero (8th graders) class is elected to run the antorcha, but this year the segundo class got to go for good behavior. In past years, they travel to Salamá (about 4 hours from here) and run back (which takes about 13 hours). This year we decided to go to an aldea of San Pedro Carcha, only about a 2-hour drive from here. We rented a truck (they have these giant pick-up trucks that they build A-frames onto so they can load about 60 people, standing-room only, in the back. There were only about 50 of us, so luckily there was sufficient truck-bed space to sit. We left in the morning, had lunch and took pictures in Chamelco, then the torch was ceremoniously lit, and off we went. It took about 6 and a half hours to get back, with us running in teams of four for 10-minute shifts. Once it got dark (it gets really dark here), the girls were no longer allowed to run for safety reasons, so the guys brought us home. When we arrived back in our aldea, people were lined up waiting to welcome us and the torch back home. We all gathered at the school for speeches, a prayer, and some well-deserved churrasco (grilled steak) for dinner. I actually really enjoyed myself. I was exhausted by the time we got back, but it was a really great opportunity to get to know some of my students outside of the classroom, and see first-hand a very valued tradition here. Throughout the whole trip back the kids were singing and chanting their national pride; things like "¡Viva Guatemala, ¡Viva la Independencia!" (Long-live Guatemala, long-live independence!) and "Dame un G…Dame un U…Dame un A, etc" (Give me a G, Give me a U, Give me an A-T-E-M-A-L-A") You just don't see American kids running around on the 4th of July shouting about Independence. But here, their independence is new enough that they still seem to know what they're celebrating on their independence day; they still remember what they went through to get here. And if anything, that was what struck me the most about the antorcha. These kids view running the antorcha as a great privilege, and they take it very seriously. Of course there was a lot of goofing around, a water-fight, and some scraped knees, but when we all finally ran through our town together, at 9pm, carrying 45 lit torches (the kids build the torches themselves prior to the run out of chair legs, coffee cans and gasoline-soaked rags), and the whole town was there to greet us, hug us, and feed us, it was pretty moving.