Lords Of Atitlan

Patzún lies in a fertile valley near the heart of the Kaqchiquel realm. Ninety-five percent of its citizens are Kaqchiquel. Most descend from the 12 century founders of Patzún, a satellite city to the capital of the Kaqchiquel Empire, Iximché, 11 kilometers down dirt road at Tecpán. The municipality of Patzún is vast: 13 aldeas, 23 caserios, and 18 thinly-populated fincas. Villages lie among rolling hills of cornfields fringed by deciduous and pine forests, or within the forests themselves. Patzún is very near Lake Atitlán. The two are related by culture and family ties. Caserio Chuinimachicaj (Patzún) has a full view of Lake Atitlán, one of the lake´s most spectacular. A deep wooded canyon separates Patzún from San Andrés, San Antonio, and San Lucas in the Department of Sololá. By road from Godinez (San Andrés), the trip to Patzún is 16 serpentine kilometers. By ancient trails, towns on opposite sides of the canyon connect more closely. People on either side of the divide often trace their ancestry to the other. The white pants and wool apron (jerga) worn by men in Patzún are also part of the traditional traje of San Andrés and Panajachel. The Kaqchiquel spoken in Patzún, however, is far different than that spoken lakeside.

The ride between Godinez and Patzún is a visual delight. To be fully appreciated, though, it must be experienced from the back of a pick-up truck, with open air and a 360 degree look at the world. Dropping from Godinez and Chuisajcap (San Antonio) the roadway plummets, wending and winding to the canyon floor below. Just beyond the three stepped mesas of caserio los Robles (San Andrés) begins a world of parkland. Pine, cypress, and oak forests, interrupted by occasional cerros coated with cornfields, line the roadway to Patzún. At aldea Sabalpop and again at caserio Mocolicxot are signs of life, but for the most part the inter-lying area between Godinez and Patzún is uninhabited along the highway. At intervals, the road criss-crosses the riverbed, where men with shovels harvest gravel, sand, and limestone for road and building construction.

At the edge of Patzún, the dirt road to Tecpán leaves the highway, cutting across the Patzún neighborhood I know best, that which houses the cofradía of San Bernardino and that of Corpus Cristi. Patzún is a city of farmers. Cows, wood fences, barbed wire, and mud houses with wood slats are common even in downtown Patzún. But here on the outskirts, they´re everywhere. Homes are surrounded by the cornfields of their owners. City streets become cow paths as they leave town headed toward the countryside. The cofradias connect by cow path, and by family relationship. No one treats me as well as do the residents of this neighborhood. They expect me to attend their activities (notably the fair of San Bernardino, May 20, and Corpus Cristi), and I do. For one thing, there´s the fellowship. For another, the ceremonial dishes of Patzún -- pulik and caldo de res (beef stew) -- are tastier than in other villages.It´s best to arrive a day or two early toevents in Patzún. The food preparation by farm ladies, young and old, and the assembly of adornments to bear the Saints are more festive than are the formal activities. There are also all the chuchitos and tamales one could hope to eat.

Patzún has three patron saints in addition to others honored by individual cofradias.May 18, we celebrate San Venancio. May 19, San Pascual is guest of honor, with marimba music, the Dance of the Conquistadors, and food and drink through the night. On the 20, the procession honoring San Bernardino leaves the cofradía early, making a nearly complete tour of town. There are dozens of conquistadors (moros) and toritos dancing through the streets.

A highlight of the Sunday Corpus Cristi celebration is alfombras (carpets of colored sawdust, flowers, fruits, and vegetables) laid out to decorate the procession path -- more than 150 alfombras.Another highlight of Corpus Cristi is the Parochial procession, with its solemn pageantry and enormous litters bearing San Bernardino and the Virgin. I walk with the cofradia, so I miss this larger, more formal procession. By the time the cofradía reaches the iglesia, the alfombras have been trampled ahead of us. I only get to view the alfombras as they´re being constructed, and after they´ve been destroyed. Walking with the cofradia I have the opportunity, though, to witness a traditional dance which has died in most places: the baile de los venados, Dance of the Deer. This is a particularly violent dance in which the tiger, dressed in jaguar pelt, lifts the deer and throws him to the ground. After the procession returns to the cofradía, the dancing continues deep into the evening, within an atmosphere of good food, bad drink, and brotherhood.