Guatemalan Diary

by Helen M. Stummer

As the wind blows, or a rare car or truck comes along the road, the dirt swirls high into the air, covering clothes, hair, eyes, everything. Slowly, as the dust begins to thin, the colorful Guatemalan women emerge, proud in their bright brocades and weavings. Each blouse takes up to three months to make. The colors distinguish the town in which the woman lives: red stripes woven along the sleeves are the banner of living in Comalapa, the town in which we recently stayed for a week. Despite the constant fear of the military government that continues to threaten war and keeps 95 percent of the people imprisoned in poverty, the spirit of the people and the atmosphere of the village is serene.

As part of a cultural exchange program sponsored by HOME, eight of us--from ages 14 to 61, including Lucy Poulin, President and founder of HOME --went to Guatemala to learn more about the people, the language, and the customs. The indigenous family we stayed with had better facilities than most--cement floors and a flushing toilet.

Manuel, a HOME employee, met us at the airport. During the two-hour car ride from Guatemala City to Comalapa, we discussed what we knew and had read about the Mayan peoples’ long struggle against injustice that finally exploded into a 40-year civil war. The war killed 100,000 Mayans, with 400,000 kidnapped and still missing. More than a million people were driven from their homes. Many of the Mayans had returned from exile since the January 1997 signing of the peace accord.

"But nothing has really changed," said Manuel. "Whatever the Mayan people need they still have to do for themselves." When they need a road to their village or to their land, for example, they have to hack it out of the mountains with their hoes and machetes.

Serenity

For the entire week, except for a child crying or the loud tones of our group, I never heard a raised voice. No arguing. People moved in a slow, constant, quiet way. Even teenage horsing around was done with a certain politeness and respect for others.

When children aren’t in school, they are either working with their families in the mountains or helping with daily tasks like carrying water from the community spring. The children entertain themselves by weaving, playing ball and other games, and listening to the grownups talk.

Reflections

It would be easy to think that people are only friendly because they want to sell something, but everyone I passed nodded in recognition. When I thought about the damage that our country has done to this country, I was amazed that anyone even said hello to us. How friendly would we be if the situation were reversed? Do we make people who look different from us feel comfortable? Are we patient and helpful when someone doesn't speak our language?

'Even though the Mayan people are poor their hearts haven't been squashed, Lucy said. 'Everyone knows the only reason they are poor is not because they are lazy, but because they don't have enough good land to till or access to schools or jobs and what they do have access to is the worst and what the rich don't want.

On a two-hour trip with some of the neighborhood children to see the Mayan ruins it was my turn to sit in the coveted front seat. Manuel pointed out one burned-out home after another, remnants of the devastation left by the military. 'People often died in the fires, he said, 'and even after 14 years, many homes are still not rebuilt because of the fear that the military will return.

Just as the richest 5 percent of the population are running Guatemala, their self-interests protected by the military, the police, and the politicians, with a slight shift I can see the same thing happening in America. The elements are in place. The gap between the rich and the poor keeps widening. But awareness can bring hope.

HELEN M. STUMMER is the author of No Easy Walk, Newark, 1980-1993, photographs and text about life in the inner city and also a history of Newark, New Jersey.