The Things I´ve Seen

This post is an attempt to make up for all the things I have not yet written about during my time in Guatemala. I think now I avoided writing for the first month because relaying everything I was seeing, thinking, and feeling literally seemed exhausting. As a result, so much has happened that I have yet to record.

First of all, I must say one thing I really enjoy and appreciate about the CASAS program is the fact that it´s not just language, it´s social justice and human rights education. During our first week in the city we took a little field trip to Zona Uno to visit the National Cemetary, National Palace, city dump and Catholic Cathedral. At the National Cemetary we were greeted by both the simple shrine to President Arbenz Guzman, a true defender of the people and champion of shared wealth and resources, and the ridiculously ornate, and ironically Egyptian pyramid-styled, tomb of the Castillo family, arguably the most powerful family in the country with considerable land holdings. Only feet away stood rows and rows of stacked, rented tombs for those too poor for a more permanent burial plot. Only several minutes walk from this point, we came upon a large grave devoted to a former military leader which had been a favorite clandestine trial and execution spot of the paramilitary due to it´s close proximity to prime body-dumping sites. I realized I stood on the site where people, most like good, innocent, peace-loving people, had their last thought in the name of peace and justice.

We then continued on to the city dump where the bodies had been tossed for so many years, to see the bodies of the poor, ïnformal sector¨workers digging feverishly to recover recyclable, reusable treasures. They sorted through our garbage, amongst our used toilet paper - Guatemalans are not able to flush toilet paper due to bad pipe systems - and other horrid-smelling refuse to eek out an existence. Vultures circled overhead and the stench was overwhelming. It was only several years ago that the city mandated people could no longer live directly in the dump, and children were not allowed to work in it.

Then there was the National Palace, site of the signing of the historic - and largely ignored - Peace Accords, with murals depicting Mayan people as naked savages alongside beautiful stained glass representations of the 12 pillars of a just government. Directly across the square from the National Palace was the Cathedral where Monsignor Juan Gerardi declared guilty numerous military and government officials during the reading of the historic REMHI report, which also included the name of every known victim of every documented massacre or attack. He was bludgeoned in his garage three days later. ¨Presente¨was ringing in my ears.

Of course this is only an abbreviated version of these experiences. It´s only now that I´m beginning to feel I have the proper context and mental grasp of these places and events, and even this country, to process and write about them. Naturally there is so much more I have to say, as this was all just within the first week. Additional entries will come later, but in the meantime I will be seeing and experiencing even more. I thought this journal would end when my time in Guatemala ends, but I understand now that there is a considerable delay in terms of processing and understanding. These are things I´ll be puzzling over and straining to appreciate for months and years. It´s not possible to truly understand 400 plus years of oppression and cultural upheaval in just 12 weeks. I think this blog might end up needing a new name.