POCH, SOCKS AND TEARS v1.1

We were to go to the Mayan church in San Juan Chamulla for a ceremony. We were of course extremely excited.

We arrived at the church quite early in the morning. This church was much different than any church we had ever been in. It had a spiritual ambience that was acutely noticeable. Mayan themes and symbols abounded and candles lit the air. Old and young alike prayed in solitude chanting in their native languages.

We observed the on-goings for several minutes then retired to obtain the materials necessary for our own ceremony. We began wondering around the village looking for candles. We soon found a candle store selling candles so we purchased some for the ceremony and some to take home with us. These candles are hard to find.

Then we went up a large hill overlooking the village to a small house where we were to drink some poch. Poch is a Mayan drink and before you hold certain ceremonies it is necessary to drink some poch or a similar drink.

We drank a small glass of poch, which got us all quite drunk. We decided that we had time so we should drink some more so we finished the bottle then decided to get another. It came in used small water bottles.

It was 9:00 in the morning and we were drunk out of our minds. Poch is extremely powerful and a little bit gets you drunk. Down the hill a little was a store and outside it was a group of local women fraternizing. They were also drinking poch and beer. By 10:00 the women were also very drunk. When it came time to leave they all got up and most of them fell down. It was quite a site to see.

Some of the women had bundles and when they tried to carry them, they fell down dragging the bundles with them. When the others attempted to help a fallen comrade they to would fall down. The spectacle was quite funny so I decided to take a picture. This I should not have done. I did not think anyone saw me but an old lady did. She came up the hill screaming at me then some of her other friends joined her. They stood there screaming at me. Then the other women walked over. In the background I could see other people sticking their heads out of windows and walking out of doors to see what the commotion was all about.

Enrique was getting generally concerned over the matter and I could see Kate was getting worried about the situation. They were drunk, we were drunk, and we didn't want any trouble so we apologized and gave the old lady 10 pesos for taking the picture and she was happy. They left smiling.

After we drank another bottle it knocked Kate right out and she fell asleep on the ground.

Noticing us sitting up on the hill a man walked over and sat at our little table. He spoke Mayan at first then switched to Spanish. We offered him some poch, which he gladly accepted. We sat chatting for a while. He was a fierce looking guy. He sat on the edge of his chair as if ready to spring into action. He had the face of a warrior and even when he smiled it was more of a frown.

We asked him what he did there and he told us that he was a very sad man. He said that he lived on the other side of the mountain and he could not find a wife in the village because he was not successful and no women would have him.

Listening to his story I thought how could I possibly help this guy out so I took off my socks and gave them to him. I could not give him my shoes so I said that I was slightly successful and that maybe if he walked in my socks he too would have some success. They were really nice Nike tennis socks. He accepted my gift graciously, and then began to cry.

Our new friend whimpered for a little while then burst out into loud explosions of tears. Enrique began to console him by hugging him. Our friend cried and cried. Soon we began to cry. It was such a moving experience. After a little while we regained our composure, that is, everyone except our new friend who continued to cry uncontrollably. This went on for at least an hour while we sat and drank more poch.

We thought that maybe it was time for us to go to the church. By now people had started to stick their heads out of windows and doors wondering what all the crying was about.

Kate could not walk, stagger yes but not walk. Enrique had to assist her. When I got up to leave my new friend swung his arms around me, crying all the while and began to hug me. He was lifting me off the ground and squeezing me as hard as he could. The locals were wondering what the hell was going on.

I had to pull his hands apart and kind of push him back to get him off of me. This done I started to stagger down the hill. He followed me crying at the top of his lungs.

We made our way down a road and to the church, our crying friend in tow. We looked like a sorry lot. None of us could walk straight. Step after step we zigzagged and stumbled. The locals were quite amused by the spectacle. The person at the door of the church however was not. He informed us that we were much too drunk to be able to enter the church now.

It would appear that in our zealousness we had consumed way too much poch.

Greatly disappointed we decided to leave. Now we had to walk through the town's main square, which was filled with people, as it was market day. We staggered through the bustling crowed with our friend who was still wailing behind us. Everybody was now looking at us. It was hard not to miss us. He screamed and yelled and cried and cried. I had never seen anyone cry so much.

So we walked through the Town Square to the bus stop and waited for the bus. Our friend stood there with us crying. The people at the bus stop wondered what we were all about. We wondered if he was going to get on the bus with us and go back to San Cristobal. We politely explained to him that it was time for him to go now. He cried louder but respected our wishes. He started to walk away but turned around about every ten steps to wave good bye to us. He did this until he was out of site.

The collectivo arrived; we got on and went back to San Cristobal. The effects of the poch lasted all day and into the night. At least we got our sacred candles and our friend got a new pair of socks!

NOTES: It is not advisable to drink too much poch.