A poem I wrote during the trek

Soft rain spills into the air
Like the chatter from yesterdays journey
Tomorrow will be another day
Another cup of coffee
A moment forever still
The hammic swings gently
Rocking my soul
Like water gliding down the mountain
A cloud hangs, lighter than thoughts
Calm and slow as a pulse

Reflections on a talk given by an ex-guerrilla

Yesterday my spanish school joined forces with another spanish school to plan a talk given by an ex-guerrilla. Given my recent experiences in the Cuchumatanes Mountains, I found the lecture particularly interesting. The perspective I got from talking to Geronimo and other campesinos during my trek is that the Guatemalan people were caught in the crossfire between two sides who were both to blame. The man who gave the talk, the ex-guerrilla, no doubt, painted a very different picture. He put all the blame for everything completely on the government and the army. His main point was that since the government had closed off all peaceful means to dissent, the guerrillas had no choice but to take up arms if their perspectives were to be heard. From my research and reading, I might be inclined to conclude that the government was the entity more at fault, neglecting the rights of the campesinos since Guatemala was first colonized and committing unimaginable attrocities during the war. But the guerrillas need to accept criticism as well for the atrocities they committed. This December will mark the tenth anniversary of the signing of the peace accords. While visible progress has been made over the last decade, Guatemala still has a long way to go. It seems that until each side can stop accusing the other side and start reflecting on how they can contribute to society in a proactive way, Guatemala will continue in the same rut it has always followed, albeit under different disguises.

Nebaj to Todos Santos Part IV

Tanya and Patrick showing their muscles Me on top of La Torre, the highest non-volcanic point in Guatemala Adorations on the cross A cemetary we came across on our third day of hiking All the cemetaries in Guatemala are this colorful and festive. They repaint them every year on day of the dead. What can I say, purple always has a way of catching my eye

Leslie with a cat

Looking for handouts

Nebaj to Todos Santos Part III

The boy and girl tending the entrance to their store

The girl behind the counter

The boy behind the counter opening a soda that someone bought

Irina buying some snacks in a little store

Rachel taking a rest

Laundary out to dry

On the third night we stayed in the old school that was used ages ago. It was basically a structure with some wood for walls, a metal ceiling and a dusty floor. After hiking through the freezing, blowing rain all day we were excited to make a fire.

Pumping water by a river

Stopping for a break

A random cemetary in the middle of nowhere. The dates on the graves were all between 2002 and 2004 but our guides said that everytime they've asked people about what happened they haven't been able to find out any information (either because nobody knows or beacuse they choose not to share)

After hiking in the pooring rain all morning we came across this town where 14 families lived on top of a mountain pass. We asked one of the families if we could sit under their overhang to take a break. The family was really nice and invited us into their home to sit by their fire. After warming up for a little while I went out to play with the kids that had collected by the door (they had just gotten out of school). I spent the next hour running all over this little town with the kids and taking their photo in front of every single building. These are a few of my favorite shots. In the picture above the girls display that they have the ability to act in a much calmer fashion than the boys (see below) although they were equally excited about having their photo taken.

The kids brought me into their school for a photo. After we were in the school for a while I decided to put my camera away and we turned our attention to learning and teaching songs. For the next twenty minutes we sang songs together and then went and performed them for the other trekkers.

Talk about energy! Gotta love kids!

Just a bit excited about a photo!

Geronimo's Story

Along the trail from Nebaj to Todos Santos we stayed with families, eating the rice and beans that they cooked and sleeping on their floor or in the few available beds. After a candlelight dinner on the third night (the electricity was out), we sat around the table and talked with, Geronimo, the dad about his family and his life. We asked him what he remembered from the war. Slowly, softly he began his story...


In 1980 the guerrillas came and called the people in the village of La Ventosa together for a meeting. The people hadn’t ever before heard of the guerrillas and came to the meeting out of curiosity. When they arrived they were surprised to see that the guerrillas dressed as they did in traditional clothes. They were even more surprised that the guerrillas seemed to understand and sympathize with the hardships of their lifestyle. The guerrillas promised many things to the people that all equated to a better life for the campesinos. They also said they would warn and protect the people if the army ever came into the region. In return they asked that the people share their food with them and support their cause. Most people thought that in general it all sounded good, but some people were more reserved than others. Those who wanted to actively support the guerrillas were invited to another meeting where they would learn tactics to defend themselves against the army, choose a code name to go by and sign their allegiance to a piece of paper.

After thinking it through, Geronimo’s uncle directed the family to take a neutral stance, so no one in Geronimo’s family went to the second meeting. Those in the town who did, however, started to carry out tasks for the guerrillas. They did such things as blowing up the bridges that the army used to pass through the area. The guerrilla supporters did all of this by night and nobody in the village knew who exactly was involved.

A few weeks later, on the 29 of March 1981, the army entered directly into La Ventosa early in the morning. At this time Geronimo's wife was pregnant with their second child (he now has 13 children in total) and he was up early because he was planning to travel to another town to work for the day. Geronimo's wife begged him not to leave until the sun rose because she reasoned it was too dangerous. While they were talking they started to hear dreadful screams coming from their neighbors’ houses down the hill. Out of all the possibilities that ran through their head as to what could be happening, it never occurred to them that the screaming could be caused by the army’s arrival. A few minutes later there was a knock on their door. Geronimo opened the door to find a gun pointed directly at his head. “Are you a guerrilla?” they interrogated him. Of course he replied no. “Why did you open the door for us?” they asked next. Trembling he replied something to the effect, “Because I was on my way out to work and I had no reason not to open the door.” The army knew that the guerrillas had instructed supports to barricade the doors if the army ever arrived. Thus they distinguished those who were involved in guerrilla networks from those who were not by whether or not people opened the door. After these questions Geronimo’s wife and he were ordered out of their house and into the town center with the rest of the villagers.

In the center of La Ventosa the army began recording everyone’s name. Once they had people’s names they ordered six people to the side. The army had somehow gotten a hold of the list of people who had agreed to support the guerrillas and had signed their name accordingly. To display the power of the state, the army brought one of the six men to the front of the group. In front of everyone, they dropped big rocks on his head, crushing and killing him. During this process one terrified woman who had a baby on her back tried to run away. The soldiers responded by shooting her down. While they killed the woman, they did not kill the baby. The baby, now a grown woman, still lives in the village to this day.

The army’s next victim was Geronimo’s uncle. Geronimo’s uncle wasn’t actually involved with the guerillas but he had the exact same name, both first and last, as someone who had signed their allegiance to the guerrillas. The army beat his uncle with the butts of their rifles until he became unconscious. All the while they were asking him for information, but of course he didn’t know anything because he wasn’t actually involved. After he had been unconscious for a while they burned his ears and his buttock to be sure he was dead. Leaving him on the ground, the army addressed the campesinos, telling them that the state held the power and the weapons. Thus they would be wise to completely eliminate any thought of the guerrillas from their mind. Before departing for the next village the army raided all of the houses, stealing anything of value including radios and food. They also raped a number of the women. During the whole incident everyone in the town was sobbing and wondering where the guerrillas with their promised help could be.

Geronimo and his dad were left to pick up the body of his uncle. They brought the body into their house and set it to the side. During this process they thought they saw his uncle twitch but assumed they were only imagining things. An hour later, however, his uncle started to move a little bit more and miraculously regained consciousness. All they had to treat his uncle’s wounds with was a little bit of alcohol. Using the alcohol they were slowly able to nurse Geronimo’s uncle back to life. His uncle survives to this day.

Meanwhile, the army moved down the road toward Todos Santos. Finding the villages deserted, the people had fled up into the mountains, the army burned everything in their path including all the food that the people had stored. Arriving at the bigger town of Todos Santos, they rounded up those who were still their homes and locked them in the town jail. Since night was coming on the army decided to use the food from the local stores and cook dinner for themselves.

That night Geronimo’s grandpa turned on one of the few radios that the army hadn’t found to try to get news about what was happening. The first sound they heard was Rios Montt’s voice. A coup had just occurred in the government and Rios Montt had taken power for himself. Over the radio he order the fighting to stop and for the troops to return to the capital. According to the orders the army left the region the next day… temporarily. Rios Montt would go on to orchestrate the most brutal massacres of the 30-year civil war.

The same day that the army departed, the guerrillas arrived in Geronimo’s village. Instead of apologizing for not helping the campesinos in their time of need, the guerrillas started to blame the people for giving information to the army. In an equally horrific manner (Geronimo didn’t precisely explain the details) they “retaliated” by killing more of the people in the town. This lead Geronimo and the other campesinos to conclude that although the guerrillas seemed to be fighting for the campesinos, in actuality both sides were equally horrible.

Eventually, given the option of death or helping the army, Geronimo succumbed to the army’s force and spent the next seven years doing patrols for the army. He was never compensated in any way for his work and because the patrols meant that he couldn’t cultivate his fields his family often went hungry during this time. Though he expressed how grateful he was that during this time he never actually found anything of importance and never had to shoot at anyone. He said that many times during the war period he had accepted and thought that he was going to die. “I am happy to be standing here with you today, but sad for the memories I have,” he finished.

Nebaj to Todos Santos Part II

View from Diego's house in Xexocom where we stayed the first night on the trail

Super cute!

When I first saw this church in Acul I thought it was completely adorable (note: the fact that it's purple may have had a small part in that). Taking a break in the courtyard next to the church one of our guides told us the story of what happened to Acul during the civil war and what specifically took place in this church. Just thinking about the details from this story still makes me sick to my stomache. It's unbelievably horrific what humanity is capable of doing to each other. Needless to say, I now have very mixed feelings when I see this photo.

Throughout the small towns we passed it was quite common to see women sitting on their porch weaving with their backstrap looms

This gril was quite enthralled with Tanya

Tanya showing the girls the photo they asked her take of them

A passerby

On the first day of hiking we stopped at a cheese farm to eat lunch. Patrick found these googles and hat hanging on the wall and decided to sport them during the meal. I think the googles are particularly sexy =)

Preparing a very yummy lunch complete with good bread, avocadoes and freshly made cheese

Nebaj to Todos Santos Part I

Greetings to one and all! I have just returned from a beautiful trip through the Chuchumatanes mountain range with Quetzaltrekkers. We hiked about 50 km. (I have confidence that all you Americans can do the math) from the town of Nebaj to the town of Todos Santos. In total it took 4 days and we crossed through territory occupied by three different indigenous groups (each speaking their own language and practicing their own customs). A full account of this trip would take pages, but I wanted to share some of the photos and recount some of the highlights.

Amy

A boy working the fields

Moo cow, moo

Johanes

Stopping for a break on the first day

Ross

Patrick

Tanya

Christine

To get to Nebaj it was one weary day of chicken buses aka breathing exhaust while being crammed between two, possibly three, other people who are sitting in the same square foot as you. To put it in to perspective the the ayudante (the bus driver's helper) had to literally crawl over the seats in order to collect the fares. Point being, after traveling all day long in these conditions our bus had to pass through a hellacious construction zone that extended up and over a mountain. If I hadn't given up long ago being surprised about goes on when you ride a chicken bus, I would have been down right astrounded that we made it all. Anyway, I thought this sign in Nebaj was fitting given the situation. It reads "Danerous. Road in construction. Travel at your own risk."

A mom and daughter sitting on street in Nebaj (the outfits the women wore in Nebaj were so beautiful, I wish I had been able to get a few more pictures... but it can be hard to be discreet when you're one of 10 white-skinned people in town)

An ode to Mangos

I thought I would take this moment to let you all know that it is mango season here in Guatemala. This means:

1) I walk out my front door, go one block to the market and have heaps of Mangos to choose from. Did you know there are many different varieties of mangos? I didn't... but now I'm learning the names of each type.

2) I eat at least 2 to 3 mangos a day and pay nearly nothing. Aside from the fact that my family usually already has heaps of them in the house, yesterday I paid 1 Quetzal for a dozen mangos (that's about 13 cents).

3) I always seem to have mango fiber stuck between my teeth despite the fact that I floss 12 times per day. On this last point it doesn't help that nobody cuts mangos here, rather they eat them as you would an apple. Everytime I have tried to take the logic path of cutting mango slices my family is quick to point out that I don't actually need to do that. Thus I have given into the Guatemalan way of eating mangos.

On a side note: Given that we had nothing else to do for the 10 or 11 hours Felicitas and I spent on the bus on Sat., we ate quite a number of mangos during the course of the day. Not an easy feat when your crammed against people under the sweltering heat. But it was well worth the pain!

Second Installment of Photos from Lago Atitlan