10/6/23

The Everpresent “Now” of Humberto Ak’abal

During my reading of Ak’abal’s poems, I was struck by never feeling I was anywhere other than here. “Here” being in his world and mine, right now. Ak’abal’s poetry has a thrumming presence to it, a contemporary murmur that relaxes you into the moments you spend reading. I think it is his use of language that settles us into the poem, his structure which conversationally pulls us in, and his subjects that while historical, anthropomorphized, or otherwise separate from now, appear real and textured. Ak’abal declares in the introduction that he wishes to “call ourselves contemporary Mayas with pride.” In so many ways these poems echo that mission.

At multiple points in his poems, it feels as if thoughts are occurring naturally to the poem itself. It feels live and current. In In the Woodlands, enjambment of the final three lines makes for natural pauses as the writer considers each new sensation. Being wrapped in a woollen poncho, dreaming, is like falling asleep… in the woodlands. Another example is in a poem with a completely different tone but equally effective delivery 500 years. The space left before the final declaration and the original premise of the poem, there is an orality to it, and thus a presence.

It is not just that we are present in Ak’abal’s poetry, it is that time feels different as well. In our McLeod reading we learned about the different forms of Mayan cosmology and the way cycles, some long and some short, create a different reference to time. I see cycles all throughout these poems. In Corn Harvest Maize is brought from field to kernel in a cycle the begins and ends with walking. Human input that brings the ever-present food through a day. In Paradise, I see a much longer cycle taking shape, one which evokes a period before the colonial, the christian, and ends without resolving it. The maize goes from plentiful to forbidden. What is most compelling is when these poems are put in the context of their places within the collection of poems. Here, a third even broader temporal cycle appears, one that doesn’t have clear beginnings or endings. The weight of the 500 years poem hangs over this cycle, reminding us of the weight the Maya are forced to carry. Simultaneously, within this cycle, muddy feet traipse through fields of maize with reverence in an ever present now. In writing poems containing I and We and Us and declaring the “contemporary Maya,” Ak’abal brings into concert the long, persistent, sacred Maya present. The one that harvests maize, even when forbidden, the one that takes joy in a dreamy poncho, and the one that wishes to be a scrap of cloth so that perhaps one day they can fill the holes where the chill of poverty creeps in. This cycle, long and disjointed, without clear delineation or beginning, is why these poems are so compelling to me. They speak to a Mayan conception of time, as we have come to understand it. Lix Lopez began his lecture with something akin to “let us be grateful for another day.” These poems, with all their weight, do just that.

I am really sad I had to miss class this week, I loved everything I read from home. I was wondering what the brilliant minds of this class thought their “Long Cycle” might be? What historical weight do you carry, and what small cycle, daily interventions lighten the load? For me, I feel a loss of direction, a loss of utopia. It felt like people were fighting for something when I read history, and living now feels like being pulled in every direction, moving towards nothing. Then I meet people who do see the long cycle, the moral universe that bends towards justice, and I learn from them and am grateful. My daily cycle would be the ways people come into our lives to remind us of our values, even when the long view might obfuscate them.

10/3/23

Reencuentro and the Importance of Food – Reflection of Lix Lopez Visit

Elder Lopez’ visit this past Thursday was truly a gift. Prior to this term, I was not aware of the Mayan in Exile Garden at UBC. Learning about this space from Elder Lopez left me feeling hopeful, as it was a lesson of the positive impacts that result from Indigenous self-determination and Indigenous food sovereignty.

When reflecting on the visit, I think back to the concept of “desencuentro” that we learned about in class. As explained by Tamara, there is a desencuentro, a misunderstanding or non-meeting, between different cultures and different ways of knowing. Namely, there is a desencuentro between the oral and the lettered: lettered cultures clash with cultures that rely on orality. In class I brought up how lettered cultures, by not recognizing ‘other’ ways of knowing, like those of oral cultures, deny themselves an expansion of knowledge. It was an honour to learn about how Elder Lopez, when faced with the desencuentro between his Mayan worldview/traditions and Canadian/Western society and worldviews, resisted and made his way back to his ancestral roots to eventually become a Ceremonial Knowledge Keeper. It is exciting that, thanks to the Mayan Garden, future generations of Mayan children will be able to experience a reencuentro and learn about their ancestral culture at the garden.

Elder Lopez’ visit also responds to the central and recurring themes we’ve touched on in class: The importance of food, and the importance of studying food. Near the beginning of his presentation, I was excited to hear Elder Lopez talk about how when people have safe food supplies, they can build empires. This idea is what has sparked my passion for food security and especially Indigenous-led initiatives toward food security. Moreover, food and the cultivation of food crops have been central to the preservation of Elder Lopez’s, as well as his community’s, traditional knowledge. One of my favourite moments of the presentation was near the beginning, when Elder Lopez spoke about how all the generations before him, all of his ancestors, had gardens, and so gardening is in his blood. In this way, food and the cultivation of food is also spiritual, and has the ability to both connect us to something bigger than ourselves while also leading us back to our roots and ancestors.

I am enjoying learning new ways of studying food, such as approaching food and food crops with the knowledge that they have spirits, that they hold knowledge.

Something to reflect on: Has the way you approach food and food crops changed as we learn about the role of maize in Mayan society? Are you more likely to wonder about the soul of the vegetables/plants that you are eating?

10/2/23

Señor Lopez: Reflection

I really enjoyed having Señor Lopez come and visit. Throughout the summer I had actually been working at the farmer’s markets around Vancouver and went to the UBC one. There I saw the produce and flowers that came from the Maya farm. It was so incredible to then learn about their story and how they were able to have that farm.

When listening to the cosmology of how maize came to them in Guatemala, I was intently listening. I had a few reflections on the story. One was the fact it was fleas and lice that had helped bring corn to the people. In western society, those creatures are seen as a pest. Very rarely do I ever reflect on their usefulness or their part in the living world. I feel like with the inclusion of these creatures in their cosmology, it shows that every creature has a role and purpose. It was the same when I was reading the Popul Vuh, I also had this reflection when they used the mosquito to learn the names of all the demons. I thought it was such an interesting choice of creature, as I find them incredibly annoying and to be a pest. However, in the story they had a purpose. It also gave an explanation as to why the mosquitos buzz in our ear. The same with the story of Señor Lopez, it gave us an explanation as to why lice and flea live in the fur of animals. Lastly, I wanted to mention that I found the use of these creatures is giving value to them, having them be part of the story rather than just a side character, something to be forgotten. It again puts importance on the whole rather than just a part.

The other part of the story that I found incredibly interesting was when Señor Lopez talked about the hole in the rock and how this hole (when it closes) will bring great changes. It was interesting in that this story had been told for hundreds of years, predicting a time of great changes, and in our current world state that is actually happening. He mentioned global warming and the effects that have taken on the crops that are there. But I think it can also be a reference to the increase of GMO products. When he said that now the hole was closed, I had a moment of fear almost. For our world and for what we have been warned about, and yet we haven’t done anything to change it.

Briefly, I loved when he said, “it changes the soul of the maize.” I was thinking about how in the article about  “Why study food?” It talked about how we have distanced ourselves greatly from the food. We just eat it, and we no longer take the time to know where it comes from, the work it took to get there, but we also don’t take the time to realize it too is a living being, a part of the greater circle of life. It gave me pause in the things I take for granted, the food on my table and my own opinion on GMO products.

10/2/23

Reflection of Señor Lopez

Surprised by the Maya Garden story by Lopez, it made me realize that apart from Canada, Indigenous people from other regions of the world have the same problems with sovereignty as well. Not restricted to political rights and settler land occupation, their culture and traditions are endangered as well. The presenter, Mr. Lopez fled from Guatemala in the 1980s when the government imposed a genocide in the country. Later on, he continued his studies in Belgium and Canada. He mastered to speak 4 languages including Spanish, English, French and the local Maya language. He presented us with his story of immigration, traditional farming, and the significance of maize in Mayan culture.

From the article and his description. I got to know the underlying reason for multi-product agriculture where maize, squash and beans interdepend on each other. They protect and provide nutrients to each other both biologically and physically. Squash provides the cover, maize provides the pole for beans while beans release nitrogen as the fertilizer. This reminds me of how the Maya community works, people help their neighbours and other people just like the plants do. The traditional “3 sisters ” system now has medicinal plants that showed their intelligence of living, which diversified products on the given land.

Before planting and after planting, the Maya people had their own ways of praying and thanking God, in order to have good weather conditions for the coming year and the protection of God from the previous year. It made me think of the plot in Popol Vuh when God was trying to create humans, and the second attempt of wooden man failed due to the hollow heart, they could not recognize who created them. Maya people remember their ancestors all the time and the maize in the milpa, they never forgot the culture where they come from, generation by generation. That’s why Maya people still have a collaborative community culture nowadays.

I asked Mr. Lopez in class, how Maya descendants learn from their ancestors in Canada, as the Canadian educational system does not include Maya stories. He explained that the most direct way to tell children how Maya people work is from a farm, from the ground where maize grows up. Maize is the source of food, when children learn how to plant maize, they will never be starved in anywhere the world. However, Vancouver is not the best place for maize planting as the summer duration is short, and maize cannot get enough sunshine to grow as big enough as the maize in Central America. It also shows the importance of agriculture in the history of civilization I learnt from Geography class.

In my opinion, whatever the nationality you have, wherever you live. You should never forget your ethnicity, and your family traditions, as it indicates where you truly come from. As Mr. Lopez said, your stomach will “miss” the food which represents your identity.

 

 

10/2/23

Discussion with Elder Lopez: “The Children of Corn”

In the discussion with Elder Lopez, the first thing he pointed out was that Maya people are “the Children of Corn”. I found it impressive how Mr. Lopez and his community are still deeply attached to the Mayan traditions, to the Popol Vuh, the orality, the centrality of maize. Throughout the discussion, the attachment to maize was especially palpable. Not only when he explained about the cultivation system, based on growing the “three sisters” (maize, squash and beans), but also when he talked about his homeland, his community and his ancestors. He mentioned more than once how without maize there is no society or culture, how in the absence of maize men were just hungry and could not start building cities. When he explained how maize was hidden in a rocky mountain that cracked open after multiple tries by the animals and lightening, I could see how maize represents the center of everything, as if the world revolved around maize. It seemed to me that maize is the glue of the social, the supernatural and the natural worlds, like a sort of point of connection between animals, nature, people and gods.

It struck me how the Mayan orality takes up a big role in how he sees and interprets the world and its dynamics. It was really impactful for me to learn how he associates serious changes in the world (like climate change) to the story of how men obtained maize. He mentioned that, when the cracks in the rocky mountain close, the soul of maize will leave, and big changes will come. The main crack was about to close in 2009, and this was a signal for us to prepare ourselves for the changes that are coming. Apart from the centrality of maize, when Mr. Lopez was talking, I could see how much he relies on his ancestors and the stories that have been passed down for generations. It was clear that the traditions and explanations of the world that are part of Mayan orality have not been forgotten by him; conversely, they help him interpret the world we live in.

Finally, combining Mayan orality and the centrality of maize, I understand why his community decided to set up the “Mayan in Exile Garden” here at UBC. I feel like, in this way, they feel closer to their homeland and their ancestors, while passing down the traditions to the young generations of Maya Mam people born in exile.