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The doorbell rang. It was Xun 7Akov's younger
brother, Chep, accompanied by a boy from Paste7,
in his early teens. Chep had come to request a loan.
He produced the appropriate bottle. During the
following discussion, the boy, Lol Sarate, stood with
the assurance of a brilliant princeling, his feet
planted well apart. He extended his hand gracefully
to receive the glass of clear liquid. With courtly
elegance, he bowed to Chep and to me before
downing his share of cane liquor and returning the
glass. Lol was the first child to accord this stranger
the customary civilities of Zinacantan.
We were in the midst of the annual Easter fair of
San Cristobal. Our small apartment overlooked the
main square. For hours Chep and Lol (pronounced
Lol) watched the crowds of people milling below.
Then the band struck up. In a flash Chep siezed both
Lol's hands, and holding their arms over their heads,
they twirled and waltzed around the balcony, their
faces shining with smiles. Lol inspected our apartment,
asking the price and purpose of every object.
He slipped his feet into my wife's high heels and
clomped about. He found a shirt of mine and, unfamiliar
with buttons, fastened it ridiculously askew.
He switched the lights off and on. With a look of
delighted omniscience, he taught the older man how
to flood the room with light.
Lol Sarate
Once a traveller was coming along.
He picked up a dead rabbit that he found there.
"What happened to the little rabbit?" he asked. He
picked it up and put it in his shoulder bag. He went
on.
He found a stump there. He hung up [his shoulder
bag] and left it. He went hunting. He left. He hung it
up and left it. When he returned, [when] he came
back, he discovered that his rabbit was no longer
there. When he returned it certainly wasn't there. He
tried to find it. Ooh, then he heard it tooting on its
gourd. Who knows how far it had gone. It had a
gourd like this. It kept going, tooting on its gourd as
it went. It was the rabbit that had come back to life,
of course.
How Rabbit Won His Hat and Sandals
T90
159
We learned later that Lol was the cupbearer of the
Steward of the Holy Sacrament. He also was a
drummer boy at various fiestas. Nearly the last time I
saw him, though only a boy, he was the steward for
his neighborhood, in charge of their autumn waterhole
ceremonies. But lacking in experience, he had
miscalculated the amount of cane liquor and rockets
needed at each shrine, and so had to run home again
and again to replenish the supplies, much to the
annoyance of the women in his home. In the early
hours of the morning he grew demanding and rude
to his mother, just before passing out. Shortly after
dawn the men offered him a glass to chase his
hangover. When he refused it, they turned on him
angrily to ask. "Where has your manhood gone?"
Between these two scenes Lol came to our apartment
once with a young friend. I asked them to tell
me a tale. They could think of none and instead
intoned for the tape recorder a list of hamlet names.
In desperation I recited the exploits of the rabbit in
the melon patch. Then Lol exclaimed, "I know a
tale!" For fifteen or twenty minutes he regaled us
with his rabbit tale, while his companion darted at
him black scowls of envy.
Lol was married several years ago, but I have not
seen him since.
Bweno, 7a ti vo7ne lae, 7ital la jun jbeinel.
Va7i 7un, stam la 7a li j-kot t'ul te la chamem 7ista.
"K'u spas i 7unen t'ul 7une?" xi la. Stam la, stik' la ta
smoral 7un, bat la.
Va7i 7un, 7o la te chuman te7 sta 7un, sjipan la
komel 7un, bat la ta paxyal 7un, bat, sjipan la komel,
k'alal la sut tal 7une, ch'abal xa la yul sta ti st'ul 7une,
k'alal la sut tal 7une, ch'abal a7a, ya7uk la ssa7, jii,
ja7 to la ya7i jna7tik xa 7ox k'u snamal 7ibat 7un, ti
xpiet xa stzu 7une, j-p'ej la stzu 7un xi 7un, bat la ta
j-mek xpiet la ech'el stzu 7un, ja7 la ti t'ul 7une 7ikux
la 7a.