A Guatemalan ‘I do’
While evangelicalism rises in Guatemala, a modest pandemic wedding shows the country’s devotion to Catholic tradition.
Gabriela and Carlos Rodrigo were married Jan. 15 at Iglesia San Pedro, following Catholic tradition. The wedding reception was held at Conventa de las Capuchinas, a historic church and convent in Antigua, as they danced to “Noche de Luna Entre Ruinas” by Marimba Maderas Chapinas. Gabriela said “it meant the world” to be married in the church in front of family and God. | Photo by Hannah Hobus
By Makenzi Johnson
Gabriela Zamora and Carlos Rodrigo sat facing the altar inside of Iglesia San Pedro, a Catholic church decorated with four Corinthian pillars, statues of Jesus on the cross and various saints and gold ornamental details.
After dating for one year and being engaged for another, they were finally married Jan. 15.
Roughly 45% of the Guatemalan
population identifies as Catholic while 42% identify as evangelical, according to a 2020 U.S. Department of State report. Only 2% of the country still practices traditional Mayan rituals and beliefs. Per Catholic tradition, Zamora and Rodrigo had invited guests to celebrate the sacrament of matrimony with Mass and Communion.
Some of the 30 guests arrived early, some while the couple promised to love each other through sickness and in health.
Regardless of arrival time, the first step for each person – including Zamora in her lace gown and long train — was to take their temperature and use hand sanitizer before they could enter through the side door of the church.
The pews were dotted with guests sitting six feet apart. Young women scowled at people who sat too close to the person in front of them, not asking, but telling them to move.
The priest greeted guests and opened with a prayer. A young woman with a blue scarf draped over her head stepped forward to read the Liturgy, a section from Genesis about the creation of Adam and Eve, and the Nicene Creed was recited by the congregation soon after.
Altar boys and girls, clad in white and red robes, grabbed the chalices of the blessed sacrament from the tabernacle and placed them on the altar. The priest stepped up to the altar, quickly bowed his head in silent prayer over the gold chalices, grabbed a piece of bread and held it over his head. Bells rang out, summoning the Holy Spirit to convert the bread into the body of Christ before doing the same with the cup of wine — transubstantiation.
Zamora and Rodrigo moved to kneel before the altar. A silver silk scarf was draped over both of their shoulders by Zamora’s mother and a long cord, often referred to as the “wedding lasso,” was hung on them next, symbolizing that they were now united by God.
Zamora’s mother carefully removed the silk and lasso from the couple, then joined Zamora’s father and Rodrigo’s parents in a line, each holding a shallow bowl filled with pale yellow flower petals. Just as American wedding guests would throw rice at a newly married couple in a Hollywood movie, family and friends generously shook fistfuls of flower petals over the newlyweds’ heads. Yellow petals littered Zamora’s intricate updo of pins and curls and settled atop Rodrigo’s shoulders. Some guests hugged the couple while some simply threw the petals and some prayed over the couple as they received a blessing.
The sun shone on Gabriela and Carlos Rodrigo, light dancing off of her tiara onto the cracked pavement as the couple exited the church. They were married.
“[I’m] very happy and grateful to God because even with everything we’ve been through we are still standing together and loving each other,” Zamora said.