Unraveling the Mysteries of a Wooden Deity: A Journey into the Origins and Cultural Importance

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I am standing on a sidewalk in front of a liquor store in Panajachel, Guatemala. There is a dim light above me. The crowds have left for the day. The streets are quiet this time of night. A few scooters break the silence as they speed down the cobblestone street. I look left and then right. For a moment, it feels like I am the lookout for a heist. I peek into the store and see my friend making a purchase.

I'm tired of standing watch so I enter the store to investigate. Andrew is standing at the counter holding bottles of alcohol and several packs of cigarettes. Now I like to drink from time to time, but I don't smoke, so my curiosity gets the best of me. “What’s all this,” I ask? He explains to me it is necessary for our pilgrimage tomorrow. Without question, I turn around and return to my light post on the sidewalk.

The next morning, we meet for coffee in our hotel cafe. Our conversation catches the ear of a woman sitting next to us. She introduces herself and tells us about the agricultural work she is doing in the highlands of Guatemala. She is traveling alone, so we invite her on our pilgrimage. With alcohol and cigarettes stuffed into our camera bags, the three of us set off to find a boat. Panajachel or Pana for short, sits on the shore of Lake Atitlán in the Guatemalan Highlands.

Anna and Andrew both speak fluent Spanish, so I sit patiently while the two of them negotiate passage to Santiago Atitlán. A captain leaving soon offers to take us and leads us to his boat. It is filled to the max. The three of us squeeze into whatever space we can find and hope for the best.

Santiago is only accessible by boat for most people. The main dock leads to a carnival of shops. Every color is on display in the form of bags, hats, rugs, trinkets and souvenirs.

Our ascent up the road is a gauntlet of hands holding something to sell. Exhaust fumes from the taxis and tuk-tuks linger in the air. Loud and soft conversations are everywhere. This place is alive and is a mix of old-world Spain and Maya culture. We reach the local market, and Andrew sets out to find our contact. The energy in this place is amazing. The Maya influence in Santiago can be defined in one word - Color - colors so vibrant it softens the hard grays and browns of an old city. Andrew locates Francisco and we find a local café to discuss our quest.

Francisco checks our offerings and goes into detail about the traditions and protocol for meeting San Simón.

Also known as Maximón, this Maya deity symbolizes light and dark. One school of thought is that Maximón was the reincarnation of an elder named Ri Laj Mam during the Spanish conquest of the Maya. This protector of the Maya evolved into what is now considered a Saint through religious syncretism.

The story of this “Trickster”, as he is referred to by some, is the reason we are here. Finding Maximón is no easy task. He falls under the protection of one family each year. The family is sworn to provide for him and welcome all those who make the pilgrimage to their home. Many people travel from all over the world to Santiago for the opportunity to stand in front of this Saint and ask for his blessing.

We follow Francisco down a narrow alleyway to a courtyard protected by a wall and gate. The home is simple and well lived in. Andrew hands our tribute to our escort, and he goes inside. From the outside this place looks normal and I would not have given it a second glance. Moments later Francisco comes out and invites us into the home. It is standing room only. Our host is holding the bottles of alcohol and packs of cigarettes Andrew purchased the night before. Did I mention Maximón drinks and smokes. All around us are religious symbols and a spiritual energy that is unmistakable. People stand in line waiting to be blessed.

A woman sitting in a chair wearing a veil over her head receives what seems like a baptism by Tequila. The immersion into this part of Maya culture is amazing. We are given permission to photograph the ceremony, but it still feels intrusive. I hear my name during a prayer and look up as the host removes the cap from one of our bottles. His assistant holds a cloth under Maximón’s mouth to keep the alcohol from spilling onto his necktie. As expected, the trickster drinks the whole bottle.

"We must teach the next generation to not just learn languages, but whole cultures and belief systems. We will then make more of an effort to understand people and their different cultures." - Jane Seymour

I find a place to sit on the floor and watch all that is going on around me. The emotion is visible on the faces of those who have come here to find whatever they are looking for. This wooden deity, cloaked in colorful scarves, wearing a blue and white tie, sporting a slick cowboy hat and smoking a cigar is the source of all that is happening here.

Known for both bad and charitable deeds. Maximón is not a sure bet for happiness. Depending on his mood he can be devious, and his blessing may bring unwanted results. I do not know what blessing fell upon me. I guess time will tell. It is the myth, the history, and the cultural impact on modern day that has brought me here. This moment in time started hundreds of years ago during a conquest. A history now captured in a wooden statue. His pockets filled with money, and he smells like cigarettes. A fashionably dressed deity who can hold his alcohol. It is all amazing to me and well worth the effort to find this place.

Our host lets us know it is time for us to leave and we pay our respects as we back out through the doorway. We are grateful for their hospitality and for letting us be a part of something unique. I lean over to Anna and ask her if this is how she saw her day going. You never know what the day will bring when you travel around the world.