Diaspora (p.s. do even I know what that means?)

Tengo tu antídoto... Pal' que no tiene identidad
Somos idénticos... Pal' que llegó sin avisar
Tengo tu antílico... Para los que ya no están, para los que estás, y los que vienen

I have your antidote...for those without identity
We are identical...those who arrived without warning
I have your antílico*...for those who are not here,
those who are here, and those who are coming
(antílico: a mix between the words "antídoto" (antidote) and "Etílico" (ethylic))

One thing we know about the world: people are always moving and migrating. And that is especially evident in Antigua, Guatemala.

Scene: I have dinner with a group of people who live here. Three of us are Americans who moved down here. Two are native Guatemalans. One is Guatemalan but grew up the States. One is Latvian. We get to talking about Guatemalan history and food. An American girl chimes in: ¨We have lots of great tamales in the States, cause there are Mexicans everywhere.¨ The room falls silent.

Scene: I go searching for an apartment. When I find one I like, the owner tells me she would rather have a foreigner living there. ¨You can´t trust Guatemalans,¨ she says. ¨They don´t pay.¨ Then she pauses and says, ¨Course, most of them can´t pay anyway.¨ Housing prices are so high here precisely because there are enough foreigners who can afford them. People native to Antigua are being pushed out. Or, they take in students like me to help pay their rent.

Scene: A woman who is connected to my agency just lost her husband. He migrated to the States, crossed the desert on foot, and died somewhere in Arizona. She just received his papers in the mail.

Scene: Several American tourists have told me they ¨envy¨ me. One I met while eating dinner at a local restaurant. This middle-aged man strikes up a conversation with me. I tell him about the agency I work for. ¨That is so great!¨ He says. ¨Not enough people are working in family planning. I´ve been traveling for a while, and it seems to me the biggest problem here is population growth. How are we gonna get it through their heads that they have to have fewer children, and they have to send those children to school?¨ He even suggested (albeit a little guiltily) that improving health care without controlling the population might be a bad idea.

Next thing I know, I have a lot to say, too. I tell him I think pejorative language like that is what got Guatemala here in the first place. Not to mention that it´s quite possibly the root of all evil.

Through the eyes of anthropology (which I now wish I had studied!), what a place to be. All these people from all over the world, at once experiencing, consuming, and changing Guatemalan culture. And the Guatemalans trying to go on with their lives. Being pushed out by high prices. Packaging what attracts tourists, playing pre-recorded marimba music, opening up their homes to us, weaving their traditional clothing for us to buy. The municipal police putting a stop to anything that seems ¨too indigenous.¨ Women with food on their heads and babies on their backs, wearing their best woven clothing and headdresses on weekends when there are more tourists. Elderly couples speaking Mayan languages. Younger people wearing Levi´s and cat-calling in English.

-Dice... Pasaporte!

-Ha donde va por ahi, luminario, en esta noche tan fea?
-Usted no se anima?
-Mire como 'sta el camino. 'Ta negaiiiito!
-No hombre, como, el camino es lo de menos
-Lo importante es que haiga bronca

-(He) says... Passport!
-Where you goin', luminary, in this night so ugly?
-Don't you dare?
-See how the road is. It's terrible!
-No man, how (can you say that), the road is the least of it
-What matters is for there to be a fight in you
-Calle 13