Ethnomusicology on a Mayan hillside

SEBEB, Guatemala — Mix together six guitars, four Bible stories, and eleven Mayans, stir and simmer over low heat for two days and what do you get? A half-dozen original worship songs written in the Chuj language.

So it was last week, that I got to witness and participate in Viña Studios’ ethnomusicology ministry among Guatemalan Mayans.

We traveled north 11 hours from here in Central Highlands to a remote Chuj Mayan village near the Mexican border. I joined José, Viña’s creative director, and Aaron Appleton, a college graduate and bass player from Wisconsin.

When the butterfly fluttered past our bus, I knew we were in trouble. Some roads are rough here, but the ride up the Cuchumatanes Mountains to Sebeb, elevation 9,000 feet, was so bad that it took us three hours to creep the last 20 miles.

At least the butterfly didn’t block the road. It seemed every other creeping, crawling creature somehow did. Donkeys, cows, pigs, goats, stray dogs, chickens and probably a few animals that I’ve forgotten managed to find their way in front of our bus. I remember thinking, “What’s missing?” Only sheep. All the other common animals here had their moment of glory.

Meanwhile, our young bus driver’s attention was distracted by his iPod music player, which held 1,200 of his favorite songs. He had ingeniously wired it to the bus’s stereo system for all to enjoy. Whenever a song came on that he didn’t like so much, he found it necessary to advance through the songs — reading the iPod display, not watching the road — to reach a favorite. Then, of course, he had to make and receive a few cell phone calls ... all while driving a bus with 60 souls on it. (He was actually a very nice young man, and I thought he did a good job driving.)

We spent two cold, windy days and nights at Sebeb, catching the 4:30 a.m. bus down the hill last Wednesday to return home.

Sebeb isn’t much of a town, just a few churches and a few dozen houses strung along a steep hillside, straddling the road. We stayed at the Instituto Biblico Ebenezer, adjacent to which, Dave and Helen Ekstrom lived 16 years as they toiled to translate the Bible into the Chuj language. How they survived there so long is beyond me. The locals told us the wind and cold isn’t usually so bad, but it was beyond anything we had prepared for. (On the upside, the winds had cleared the skies for fantastic views of the Milky Way — known here as La Vía Láctea, which I once mistakenly called “El Camino de Leche,” “the Road of Milk.”)

Viña offers training in ethnomusicology to encourage Guatemalan Christians to write original worship songs in their mother tongue, using ethnically appropriate musical instruments. On this trip, José hoped the Chuj Mayans could compose six original songs to accompany Viña’s six “Deditos” finger-puppet videos for children.

Three young Mayan men who are from the mountains but now live and work for the Ekstroms in Huehuetenango (a relatively large, modern city) joined us on the trip. They are beginning work to translate the video scripts to dub the Bible-story videos into their language.

At the Ebenezer Bible Institute we met eight more Chuj believers who had traveled about an hour to attend the two-day seminar. Miguel Dominguez, a Chuj pastor and musician who has recorded four worship CDs at Viña’s Sololá studio, brought the bulk of the group from his church. One who had lived and worked for four years in America drove his four-wheel drive Toyota pickup. Several brought their guitars.

The Chuj are among Guatemala’s poorest Mayans. Locals said half the population has left for America, seeking work. The hillsides are harsh, rocky and so steep they’re prone to erosion. Yet, the Chuj scratch out a living there, growing corn up and down the mountains, traveling long distances to fetch firewood for their cooking. I saw more donkeys there than anywhere else.

A well-trained donkey will pack firewood home on its own, knowing the path and obediently serving its master — hoping someone will unload the burden quickly, no doubt! This is rare, however, perhaps only 20 percent will travel home on auto pilot, one Mayan told me. The rest must be guided by a lead rope.

José began the seminar by inviting the Chuj believers to play a worship song. It had been translated from Spanish into their language. In the past, this is how missionaries introduced converts to worship music: Break out the hymnal and set to work translating it.

In many cases, believers will adopt the hymns and style of worship as their own. But it can remain a foreign form — one heard only in a religious setting that may or may not reach the heart. Hymns are not what I hear playing on Sololá’s central-park stereo system, and they’re probably not a musical form that speaks to many hearts here. (Here, the wooden marimba remains Guatemala’s most traditional musical style. Some churches won’t let the marimba in the door, however, but that’s another issue.)

José then invited the Chuj believers to read Acts 3:1-10, the story of St. Peter and St. John healing a lame man. Next, he asked them to name the important words and phrases from the story. They produced a list and set to work brainstorming lyrics.

Writing worship music requires one to know the subject well. Several elements, José said, are essential to a good song: First of all, it should be pleasing to God (not first to people), easy to sing together, easy to learn and edifying to the church.

Soon, the group composed a song based on the lame man’s healing. Using José’s MacBook laptop computer and some microphones, we recorded the song. Before we quit for the day, José explained some poetic, lyrical tools useful in song writing.

The day’s lessons excited the group, exposing them to new ideas and a new way of producing indigenous music.

“Sometimes we just adapt to the music that comes from the outside, but music that comes from the heart is more beautiful,” said Ambrosio, one of the Chuj believers.

Pastor Miguel explained that the huapango-style guitar music is very popular with the Chuj Mayans. “All of this is new to me,” he said, despite having recorded four CDs. He impressed me with his humble attitude. Most of his songs had been translated from Spanish. “I believe this is the start for making songs,” he said.

The next day, José challenged the group to write and record six original songs in their language based on the Bible stories for the six “Deditos” finger-puppet videos: Creation, the Fall, the Flood, Moses, Joseph and more. He showed them how to evaluate the songs for theological and linguistic content, asking, “Does it encourage faith in God? Will children understand it?”

Several acoustical challenges presented themselves as we tried to record: One electrical outlet had bad wiring, causing an annoying popping noise on the first recordings; plus, the neighbors frequently fired up a loud, put-put-putting, two-stroke diesel engine to grind corn for tortillas. They charged neighbors less than a dime each time.

Before the day was over, the class had divided into three groups, each one writing and recording two original songs, reaching our goal of six songs.

I think everyone left with a positive, grateful attitude, believing they could do this again. Please pray for the Chuj believers, their church and lives that they may write many more songs to God’s glory in the future.