The Day of the Devil
The Guatemalan calendar is chock full of holidays. Being American, December 7th has always had, of course, graver implications for me. But on this day in Guatemala, Old Scratch gets his due. Today is the ‘Day of the Devil,’ where locals burn pinata-like devils in the streets, along with common house trash. The act signifies the purification of one’s house in preparation for the Navidad season.
The scene in our neighborhood was raffish, to be sure, but not uninteresting. The fireworks broke out around 6 p.m. all over the city, so we stepped outside for a look. Our neighbor’s devil was already a heap of smoldering gray flakes mingling with their burnt trash—mostly cardboard cerveza containers. There was a haze over the whole neighborhood, and the city, usually crystal clear this time of night, was fogged over with smoke. The neighbor kids were lighting cheap fireworks which did not go straight up, but skipped over the pavement and sparked off house fronts.
Not wanting to miss out on the fun, not to mention the need for a little purification of our own, I grabbed a white sack of trash from the house and torched it.
We watched the bag smolder a while. There were at least four other trash fires within view, and a handful of smoke columns rising up behind houses. I let Mallory poke and prod ours with a stick, assuring Kristin that all kids are pyromaniacs, and some of us never grow out of it. I took at least 20 pictures, which was the only thing even more ridiculous than the fact that we were burning our trash in the street. It was yet another display I had nothing but a lopsided grin to offer in response to. Still, it beats Christmas shopping!
The scene in our neighborhood was raffish, to be sure, but not uninteresting. The fireworks broke out around 6 p.m. all over the city, so we stepped outside for a look. Our neighbor’s devil was already a heap of smoldering gray flakes mingling with their burnt trash—mostly cardboard cerveza containers. There was a haze over the whole neighborhood, and the city, usually crystal clear this time of night, was fogged over with smoke. The neighbor kids were lighting cheap fireworks which did not go straight up, but skipped over the pavement and sparked off house fronts.
Not wanting to miss out on the fun, not to mention the need for a little purification of our own, I grabbed a white sack of trash from the house and torched it.
We watched the bag smolder a while. There were at least four other trash fires within view, and a handful of smoke columns rising up behind houses. I let Mallory poke and prod ours with a stick, assuring Kristin that all kids are pyromaniacs, and some of us never grow out of it. I took at least 20 pictures, which was the only thing even more ridiculous than the fact that we were burning our trash in the street. It was yet another display I had nothing but a lopsided grin to offer in response to. Still, it beats Christmas shopping!
posted by Daniel Todd at 9:16 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Jesus, I think it's about time for a haircut. No barbers in Guatemala?
Also, burning trash in the street was a daily occurence growing up in Newport. I never knew there was spiritual significance attached to it. In the case of Newport, I think it may have attracted more devils than it drove away.
Doug
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