Guatemala Archive

Mayan communities under siege in Alta Verapaz, Guatemala

Tracy Barnett

Published: January 26, 2011Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous peoples, WhyTags: Alta Verapaz, drug war, Guatemala, Los Zetas, Q'eqchi Maya, Zetas

Mayan communities under siege in Alta Verapaz, Guatemala

Above: Members of the community Miralvalle in Alta Verapaz. The community was recently attacked by the private security force of a biodiesel company financed by the US government. (Guatemala Solidarity Project)

By John Schertow
Intercontinental Cry
Traducción por Project ISD

On December 19, 2010, Guatemalan President Alvaro Colom declared a State of Siege in the department of Alta Verapaz under the pretence of fighting drug traffickers.

Officials claim that, since Mexico increased its own “war on drugs”, the hardline organization known as “Los Zetas” has moved its operation from Mexico to Alta Verapaz which is located in north central Guatemala. Los Zetas are now allegedly in control of much of the region.

Since the siege began, notes Al Jazeera, “Police have arrested at least 22 ‘traffickers’ and confiscated five small planes, 239 assault weapons, 28 vehicles and explosives in a series of raids.” However, with the suspension of basic human rights in Alta Verapaz–and the extensive powers given to the police and military–drug traffickers aren’t the only ones being targeted.

According to Coordinadora Nacional Indigena Y Campesina (CONIC), the Q’eqchi Maya community of Se’ Job’ Che’–which has absolutely no connection to drug trafficking–was raided on January 10, 2011. The community fled the area when the soldiers arrived; and when they returned, their food crops and property had been destroyed.

Soldiers, police, and park rangers [INAB guardarecursos] approaching the farm lands of the Maya Q’eqchi community of Se’ Job’ Che’, municipality of Cobán, Alta Verapaz (Coordinadora Nacional Indigena Y Campesina)

CONIC states:

On Monday, January 10, 2011 at 10:00 am, 40 soldiers, 2 members of the National Civilian Police, and 20 park rangers [INAB guardarecursos] entered the area where the community tends their cardamom, corn, and bean crops. Without engaging in any dialogue, the military troops began shooting their weapons, and the campesinos had to run and hide away from the crop area. The military then began to destroy the community’s crops, cutting 300 cuerdas of cardamom [around 15 hectares], 300 cuerdas of beans, and 50 cuerdas of corn.

Crop destruction in the Q’eqchi Maya community of Se’ Job’ Che’ (Coordinadora Nacional Indigena Y Campesina)

Héctor Arnulfo Ruiz, who was present as a representative of the FONTIERRAS government land institution, assaulted and attempted to rape Mrs. Adelina Yaxcal as she was hiding among the cardamom crops, ripping her traditional güipil blouse in the process. Fermín Ayala, head of the National Forestry Institute (INAB) park rangers, attempted to bribe various community members, offering to spare their crops in exchange for Q50,000 [over $6,000].

The families were able to reunite in the afternoon, and then realized that during the raid they had lost 20 turkeys and 20 chickens, as well as other personal property such as work tools. By 5:00 pm that day rumors were circulating that the same actions were to be carried out in other Indigenous communities.

According to the Guatemala Solidarity Project (GSP), wealthy landowners and international corporations have also been taking advantage of the ongoing military offensive to do a little “land clearing” of their own.

On January 20, 2011, the community of Saquimo Setano was violently attacked by the family of wealthy landowners Benjamin Soto and his wife Maria Elena Garcia Ical. This family has violently attacked numerous unarmed peasants, burned houses with children inside, and attacked and threatened US citizens. Numerous complaints have been filed, but the only response by the authorities has been to threaten community leaders and US volunteers who are working with them.

Since the attack on January 20, GSP has been unable to reestablish communication with the community. GSP is now urging immediate action in solidarity with the Mayan community (see below).

Providing some background, GSP observes,

“The community has faced numerous attacks from wealthy landowners Benjamin Soto and his wife Maria Elena Garcia Ical, who are attempting to steal the community’s land. Between August 31 and September 2, 2010, the landowners led attacks against the community during which houses were burned down, death threats were made and dogs, horses and guns were used to terrorize families. The government has refused to arrest Soto and Elena Garcia for the attacks, and has instead moved forward with fraudulent charges against community leaders and GSP activists.”

Though details are scarce, GSP says that the indigenous community of Miralvalle was also attacked “by the private security force of a biodiesel company financed by the US government.”

The teenage daughter of a community leader was hit in the face with a machete during a recent attack on the Q’eqchi community Rio Cristalino. (Guatemala Solidarity Project)

Guatemalan Human Rights Leaders have been speaking out against the siege since it was declared On Dec. 19.

Indigenous Community Leaders have also been speaking out; however, so far their voices have been ignored.

While attacks against indigenous communities in Alta Verapaz have been going on for quite some time, the latest attacks by the police and military appear to be part of an effort to ‘change the region’s social fabric’.

Just prior to the Jan. 10 attack, Carlos Menocal, Guatemala’s Minister of the Interior, stated that U.S. officials would be travelling to the region along with Colombian Vice Minister of Defense, “to kick off the new phase” in Alta Verapaz. “According to Menocal, US officials will support a new ‘model police precinct’ in its efforts to ‘reconstruct the social fabric’”, notes a Jan. 9 statement by GSP.

Following this, on Jan. 20–the same day that the community of Saquimo Setano was attacked–President Colom announced that the siege would be extended for another month.

At this point, there’s no telling how long Alta Verapaz will be under martial law. And with media almost exclusively reporting on Los Zetas, there’s no telling how many more indigenous communities will be repressed – under the pretence of fighting drug traffickers.

What You Can Do
1. Email and/or fax the office of President Alvaro Colom and demand an end to the repression
Email: cartapresidente@scspr.gob.gt Fax: 502-2251-4144

It is very important to please also cc: goberaltaverapaz@gmail.com, esay@oj.gob.gt, solidaridadguatemala@yahoo.com, stuand_wckr@yahoo.com, fdaltaverapaz@mp.gob.gt, mpcoban@hotmail.com

2 Call or write members of Congress asking them to oppose the state of siege and denounce the continued government repression of the peasant movement in Alta Verapaz. If you send an email, please cc: us at solidaridadguatemala@yahoo.com so that we can follow up on their actions. Below is a sample letter

3. Send a financial contribution to communities facing eviction. Checks should be made out to “UPAVIM Community Development Foundation” and mailed to UPAVIM, c/o Laurie Levinger, 28 McKenna Rd, Norwich, VT 05055. Write the word “evictions” in the notes/memo of your check, and all funds will go to communities facing eviction. Or donate via paypal at http://upavim.pursuantgroup.net/english/donate.htm, you will see the paypal link, and you must include the words “GSP evictions” in a note to ensure the funding is delivered correctly. The GSP will take no percentage of such donations.

Sample letter:

Dear Congresswoman/man ,

I am writing to ask you to call for an end to the state of siege declared on December 19, 2010, in Alta Verapaz, Guatemala, and the continued repression of indigenous leaders in the region. According to Guatemala’s Minister of the Interior, Carlos Menocal, US officials will be accompanying police and soldiers in the region to begin what he calls the “second phase” of the siege. In addition, many of the police and military officials leading the siege have been trained and equipped by the US government.

I am very concerned about the immediate physical safety of peasant leaders who continue to be targeted by the police and military, including Pablo Sacrab Pop who was arrested on December 28, 2010, despite committing no crime. I am also very worried about human rights violations by the company Chabil Utzaj, which has received US government funds and has organized violent attacks against Q’eqchi families in Alta Verapaz. Please contact the US Embassy in Guatemala at your earliest convenience and ask them to intervene with the company to prevent them from continuing such attacks.

Sincerely,

Cultural Survival: Using radio to preserve endangered cultures

Tracy Barnett

Published: July 14, 2010Posted in: Belize, Community Radio, Environmental education, Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Latin America, Mexico, Mining, Spiritual, WhyTags: Community Radio, Cultural Survival, environment, Guatemala, Indigenous People, Indigenous rights, Latin America, Mark Camp, Mayans

Cultural Survival: Using radio to preserve endangered cultures

(Above: Concepción Aganel of Radio Niña in Totonicapan, one of the community radio stations fighting for legitimate status.)

Mark Camp, Operations and Interim Director, Cultural Survival

By Tracy L. Barnett

ANTIGUA, Guatemala – Between trips to the Guatemalan capital to stalk evasive Congress members and strategizing meetings with community radio activists from Huehuetenango to Lake Atitlan, Mark Camp is a tough man to slow down.

But I managed to catch up with him just as he prepared to pack up his big red truck and head north in his annual migration to Cultural Survival’s headquarters and his other home in Cambridge, Mass., to hear a little about what he’s been doing down here.

Cultural Survival is going on its fortieth year as the leading international organization in promoting indigenous rights and the preservation of indigenous cultures around the world. Mark, as its operations coordinator, can talk for a long time about needs assessments, political strategy, organizational development and the like.

But when he starts to talk about Miguelito, he really comes to life. Miguelito is the 8-year-old president of the youth auxiliary of Radio Sembradora, the community radio station of San Pedro La Laguna in Lake Atitlan, and in many ways he symbolizes the future of community radio and, indeed, the future of indigenous Guatemala.

Camp met Miguelito in a recent visit to the station, where Miguelito and his group of 8, 9 and 10-year-olds had created an alliance with local NGOs to organize a campaign to clean up Lake Atitlan. The iconic lake, once celebrated for its crystal-clear, volcano-encircled waters, has suffered epic proportions of wastewater and agricultural runoff, as well as a more visible problem: floating masses of plastic trash.

Miguelito’s group was broadcasting every Saturday morning, putting on a full lineup of environmental programming, encouraging listeners to fill up and bring in their plastic bottles to be used in building ecological housing.

“This guy’s going to be mayor one day,” Camp recalls with a chuckle.

Community radio in San Pedro and in towns and villages across the country has been giving voice to indigenous people young and old who are trying to preserve their environment, their cultures, their languages and their way of life, and Cultural Survival has tapped into this movement as a high-power way of supporting indigenous communities.

In Palin Esquintla, community radio helped to revive a culture and a language that was on the verge of extinction. In Sumpongo Sacatapequez, it brought a local musical tradition back to life. In town after town, community radio has given indigenous communities information about their rights, about their health, about local political and social issues, about their traditional teachings and much more – in their own languages.

Camp came to realize the potential of community radio when he was working on a publication for Cultural Survival called Voices, a publication aimed at disseminating information about indigenous rights and culture to indigenous groups around the world. The problem, he said, was that even with foundation funding, they were only reaching about 30,000 readers – less that a tenth of 1 percent of the 370 million indigenous people on the planet – and only in colonial languages – Spanish, English, French and Russian – not in their native languages.
Cultural Survival Quarterly, the organization’s venerable award-winning magazine, is an excellent publication, but it’s in English, and it’s mainly geared toward non-indigenous people.

Once the funding ran out, Camp was looking for other ways to get the message out among indigenous peoples.
“After thinking about it a very short while, the obvious choice is radio – and very local radio, because language in lots of indigenous communities is very local,” said Camp. “The people in the next alley might speak a different language – or at least a very different dialect. So we started thinking about community radio and how we could work with community radio stations to put more information on the air for indigenous listeners that might help them defend their own rights.”

In 2004 he began sounding out community leaders throughout Guatemala, and by 2006 they had found funding for a full-fledged Community Radio Project.

Access to community radio stations was one of the rights guaranteed to indigenous communities under the peace accords, but the government never followed through by setting up a system that would really give access to the communities. Frequencies were auctioned off to the highest bidders, and commercial radio operators were willing to pay sums that indigenous peasants would never dream of seeing in their lifetimes.

So the campesino groups decided to operate their stations anyway, and hundreds of them set up pirate operations in whatever facilities they could find and with whatever equipment they could cobble together. The stations were not technically legal, however, and they endured harassment from local government officials, raids on their stations, confiscation of their hard-earned equipment and even, in several cases, imprisonment of the broadcasters. Several associations of community radio stations had tried to get legislation passed that would solve the problem, but had failed. This was the situation when Camp came on the scene.

Cultural Survival’s goals were straightforward. First and foremost, the objective was to get all the community radio associations working together on a consistent piece of legislation guaranteeing each community the right to a radio frequency; second, workshops to teach radio volunteers how to generate high-quality content; third, to help the stations become financially self-sufficient; and fourth, workshops to help them with the nuts and bolts of running a professional radio station.

Three years into the project, the goals are well on their way to completion; most importantly, all the associations have agreed on the same piece of legislation and are working together, alongside Camp, for its passage. Camp is optimistic; all the major parties and many minor parties have signed on to the legislation, and folks at the grassroots, like Tino Recinos (see “Ex-Guerilla changes gun for microphone), are working hard to persuade the last holdouts.

A vote in the Guatemalan legislature is scheduled for Aug. 9, International Day of the World’s Indigenous People. Stay tuned to Cultural Survival’s page at www.culturalsurvival.org and to The Esperanza Project for news.

For excerpts from Mark Camp’s interview in Antigua, Interview with Mark Camp

Planting the Kingdom of God in Sibinal

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 30, 2010Posted in: Ecotourism, Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Mining, WhyTags: Caritas, Ecotourism, environment, Guatemala, Latin America, liberation theology, Mennonite Central Committee, Mining, San Marcos, Sibinal, Sustainable development

SIBINAL, San Marcos, Guatemala – Juan Pablo Morales and Nate Howard come from vastly different religious traditions, social circumstances and geographies. But in the end, it was their faith that brought them together in their opposition to the mining industry, and in their project to provide economic alternatives in one of Guatemala’s poorest regions.

For Juan Pablo, it was his faith in a just and loving God; for Nate, it was a faith in the potential of humanity. And for both, as they work together to establish sustainable development options in a region slated for strip mining, it’s a faith that the people can find a way to earn a living from the land without destroying it.

“We are constructing the Kingdom of God among the poor in Guatemala,” Juan Pablo began, his smile as wide as a child’s. “Poverty is not part of God’s plan; poverty is the anti-kingdom. When I speak of the anti-kingdom, I am speaking of the forces of darkness, the forces of empire, of neoliberalism, which tend to flow from the North to the South.”

Juan Pablo speaks the language of liberation theology, an approach to Catholicism born in the deeply divided Latin American continent when brutal dictatorships held sway. Some religious leaders in those days saw the brutal repression coming from the government and chose to side with the poor; many paid with their lives. Eighteen priests and 150 catechists were murdered in Guatemala, according to Juan Pablo’s reckoning, and 400 villages were massacred.

“The Evangelicals are preaching the coming of the apocalypse – but we went through our apocalypse during those 36 years of war.”

The numbers are close to home for him; his brother was among those catechists who were killed. But far from driving him away, it left him with a commitment to follow in his brother’s footsteps. After four years of study he, too, became a passionate teacher of the Catholic faith, and soon he moved into a position with Caritas, a nonprofit Catholic organization serving the poor.

Nate is softer-spoken but no less passionate about the church’s calling to empower the poor. Like many Indiana natives, he was raised an Evangelical Christian, but drifted away from the faith in his youth. He studied at Indiana University and then Eastern Pennsylvania University, getting an MBA in international economic development. Now he is working for the Mennonite Central Committee, helping communities to build sustainable, locally based economic models.

His hands-on experience in Guatemala gave him a completely different view of economics from that he had learned from his economics textbooks.

“Economics is not a science; it’s really the study of human relations,” he says. “It’s about our relations with the earth and with each other; it’s about theology, ecology, sociology.”

He sees his work here as primarily supporting Juan Pablo and the villagers, rather than running the development project. “Our goal is to try to help people see themselves as powerful actors and to work together to see what’s possible,” he said on our bumpy chicken bus ride up the mountain.

Living and working in the San Marcos district in the mountainous western side of Guatemala, close to the Mexican border, has been an eye-opening experience for this Midwesterner. Economic opportunity is so limited here that about 70 percent of the male population of this region has migrated at some point to the United States, and the money they send back is what raises the standard of living above that of extreme and grinding poverty. Now, however, with the economic crisis and increasing anti-immigrant sentiment, more and more Guatemalan immigrants are finding themselves out of work; many are heading back home, some compliments of U.S. Homeland Security.

Nate and I rose at 4 a.m. this morning to catch a bus for the two-hour drive to the town of Sibinal, and from there we were going to climb a mountain to La Vega del Volcán and see the fish hatchery. But the top of the mountain is cloaked in a blackish grey, and as we order our eggs and black beans and coffee, Nate’s contacts in La Vega call to warn him that the village is being deluged in a downpour.

The sheer rocky climb is hard enough when it’s dry, Nate tells me, and Juan Pablo arrives and seconds his concern. “You can probably make it, but you will suffer,” he said. So I settle in for an interview instead.

What Nate and Juan Pablo are focusing on is a loosely organized network of cooperatives in several rural villages in the municipality of Sibinal. One is a trout hatchery in La Vega, where the clear, spring-fed mountain streams make this hard-to-cultivate species a natural. The hatchery has been such a success that the community is now working on Phase II, raising fingerlings to sell to surrounding communities.

(Trout farm at La Vega del Volcán: Nate Howard photo)

Other agricultural projects, including potatoes and ornamental flowers, have helped diversify the regional market opportunities beyond subsistence maize and beans, and have brought in a little cash.

(Flower farm at La Linea: Nate Howard photo)

But what has Nate most excited at the moment is the ecotourism project, which would take travelers on a variety of treks, most of them through the unspoiled wilderness of the Tacaná volcano on the border with Mexico.
After breakfast with Nate and Juan Pablo, they took me down to the municipal building to speak with local council members, and I fielded a lineup of rave reviews for their work.

“There’s been a lot of international aid organizations here over the years; they’ve spent millions of dollars, and little has changed,” said Elfego Zunún Ortiz, one of the council members. “But we’re seeing now how these folks are doing an extremely effective project without spending a lot of money, just by involving the people in the leadership and planning of the project – and we have great hope.”

Domingo Javier Godines, another council member, stressed the importance of sustainable development projects like these as an alternative to mining. “We see the mining as bringing development to the United States, to Canada, to Europe – but it brings very little development to us, the poorest people in Guatemala – just 1 percent of the profits stay in Guatemala,” he says.

I’ve heard the statistic many times and have verified it; as hard to believe as it seems, it’s true.

Godines went on to describe the scene at a mining project he’d visited in El Salvador. At the foot of the mountain, 35 communities had lost their water source – a situation he predicts will happen here if the mining is allowed to continue.

Howard, for his part, underscores the importance of these development projects as an alternative to the mines.

“We believe that this type of community organizing and economic development will have a major impact on how communities like Sibinal respond to mining proposals in the future,” he wrote in a recent report. “Why would the people of La Vega del Volcán consider selling their natural springs and land to a mining corporation if they are being used for their trout production and other sustainable agricultural enterprises? Why would the communities of Sibinal acquiesce to the destruction of the mountains and bird habitats that attract paying tourists to their villages?”

Why indeed. He’s shared a few photos with me, and it’s enough to make me return – when it’s not rainy season. I want to see this breathtaking beauty for myself, and I want more than anything for the group to be successful in preserving this spectacular corner of the Kingdom of God.

Meanwhile, for more information about the project, to book a trek, to contribute to the project or to volunteer, contact Nate Howard at natedavehow@yahoo.com.

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Sipacapa five years later: Still not for sale?

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 26, 2010Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Mining, WhyTags: Catholic Church, COPAE, Goldcorp, Guatemala, Marlin Mine, Mining, San Marcos, Sipacapa, Sipakapa

Sipacapa five years later: Still not for sale?

(Above: A poster produced by COPAE, the Pastoral Commission on Peace and Ecology, displayed around the region: “I am Sipacapan and I care for my territory because: Where there is mining, there are contaminated rivers. Scientific studies demonstrate that the water of the Quivichil and Tzala rivers are contaminated with high levels of heavy metals and should not be used. ALL MINES CONTAMINATE.”)

SIPACAPA, Guatemala – For many Guatemalans, the very name of this town has become a symbol of the indigenous resistance to transnational mining operations that has swept this land in recent years.
Last week, on the fifth anniversary of an event that launched that resistance, hundreds have gathered to celebrate, but the mood was anything but celebratory.

Five years ago on this day, on June 18, 2005, the villages of this rural municipality held a series of community consultas, or plebiscites, expressing their unanimous rejection of the presence of international mining companies. The mostly Mayan residents of this region had just learned that their government had literally sold the land out from underneath them, granting hundreds of mining concessions to international corporations in the decade since the peace accords without consulting with them.

These consultas, the basis for the form of participatory democracy practiced by indigenous peoples all over the world, are required under international law, but the Guatemalan government had chosen not to observe that law. So the people decided to hold their own consulta, and their action inspired a movement. Sipakapa was the subject of a documentary celebrating the victory – “Sipakapa no se vende,” or “Sipakapa is not for sale.”

Growing like a quiet grassfire, the movement spread across the Guatemalan highlands, and now, an estimated 600,000 people have voted “NO” to the mining operations and to other transnational activities on their lands. The government has responded by declaring the consultas nonbinding, but the movement continues to grow, and it has been recognized internationally.

There was every reason to celebrate on this anniversary. After five years of struggle, indigenous Guatemalan voices were being heard around the world. The Interamerican Commission on Human Rights had just recommended that operations at the mine be suspended pending further study, following a University of Michigan investigation revealing elevated levels of contaminants in rivers and in the blood of nearby residents. Now, United Nations Special Rapporteur James Anaya, probably the world’s highest-ranking authority on indigenous rights, was touring the region, listening to the peoples’ concerns and expressing his support.

But on the day of the anniversary, a sea of grim faces gathered at City Hall and looked as their elected officials explained why they had accepted 8 million quetzales, the equivalent of $980,000 U.S., from Montana Exploradora, the Guatemalan subsidiary of the transnational mining company Goldcorp.

Sipacapa’s location at the edge of the highly productive Marlin Mine, along with its very visible role as a symbol of indigenous resistance made it a logical target for Goldcorp’s future investment, so it came as no surprise when the company began offering money to local officials for development projects, “no strings attached.” Until now, they had resisted.

Under the traditional form of government practiced here and in most indigenous communities, leaders are not authorized to make major decisions without involving the citizenry in public meetings – direct democracy at its most pure. In Sipacapa, some were saying, this had not happened.

Mayor Delfino Tema, dressed in white, was there to set the record straight. He explained to several hundred townspeople that municipal officials had accepted the offer only after consulting with local residents and hearing from several communities that they wanted to have access to the funds. Furthermore, the money will be administered by the company, not by the municipality, he said, to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest.

“There are those who say we’ve already been dining on the money given to us by the company. Nothing could be further from the truth – we haven’t even seen the money,” he insisted. “The community rules, and we are going to do what you say. We’re going to decide together how to spend this money in community meetings that are open for all to attend. We are going to continue in the struggle against the mining company.”

Applause was polite but muted, and the crowd filed out of the municipal hall and made its way across town to the parish hall for the celebratory Mass and lunch. The muttering and the placards indicated there was widespread discontent.

Meanwhile, I took advantage of the moment to call aside Arcilia Cruz Carillo of the nearby town of Canoj – one of few women mayors in the region – to ask her thoughts about Tema’s comments. Tema, as municipal mayor, serves as the chief administrator for the entire municipality of Sipacapa, which includes Canoj and all the other towns and settlements throughout the region.

Carillo was not happy. “The truth is, it’s pretty confusing because our leaders first said no, then yes. We’re seeing our water contaminated, our community divided – so it’s pretty sad, but we’ve always been courageous in this struggle. We pray to God that this company take its money back and leave as soon as possible.”

It was standing room only in the Catholic Church, decked out in green satin for the occasion. I didn’t know what to expect; Father Mario had declined from speaking with me before the meeting, saying he was a recent arrival in the community, and my friends from COPAE said he’d been reluctant to get involved.

Nonetheless, it didn’t take long to realize that this would be no ordinary Mass.

Father Mario, robed in white, stepped quietly to the pulpit and took a cue from Jesus’ sermon to his disciples from the book of Luke.

“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on. The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment. Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?  

“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Then he switched to Matthew, and things began to get interesting.

“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and the mineria.”

Padre Mario was indeed taking a side.

“What is the kingdom of God?” he asked them. “Some say it’s the afterlife. I say it’s justice; that’s what we’re all looking for. But we all know the other god can be money, which can become an idol.”

He then delivered an eloquently rendered sermon that recalled Jesus warning his disciples of pending betrayal.
“We look for miracles at the last minute,” he warned. “A poor people is easy to buy; but the salaries will be carried to the cantinas, to dark places that divide my people.

“God created a garden, not a desert…what are you doing, my people?”

Communion was celebrated in silence; the closing prayer was prayed. But before we took our leave, Padre Mario opened the meeting for public comments.

“Remember our enemies are not of flesh and blood,” said Juan Montorroso of the Council of Pueblos of San Marcos, of which Sipacapa is a part. “They are the transnationals who are on top of us, manipulating us. The dignity of Sipacapa is worth much more than 8 million quetzales.

“Remember, the Spaniards deceived our grandfathers with a few pieces of gold. What will we tell our children and our grandchildren of the decision we are making right now?”

After the service, Montorroso reflected on the current situation in Sipacapa.

“This confusion is created by the company itself; it’s a part of their strategy,” he said. “They’re looking for multiple mechanisms to divide the community. But Sipacapa is a community with a great deal of dignity, and I think at the end of the day, they will reaffirm to Latin America and to the world that dignity is not for sale. “

A few scenes from Sipacapa’s celebration.

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Podcast: Mayans say “No to mining, yes to life”

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 25, 2010Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Mining, PodcastsTags: Goldcorp, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, James Anaya, Mining

Podcast: Mayans say “No to mining, yes to life”

(Above: James Anaya, U.N. Special Rapporteur on Indigenous Rights (left), and Mayan leader Francisco Mateo Rocael, flanked by thousands of Mayan mining resisters at Zaculeu, the Mam Maya ruins outside Huehuetenango.)

HUEHUETENANGO, Guatemala – They arrived in pickup trucks, in school buses and on foot, resplendent in the vibrant purples and reds, blues and yellows of their native highlands. They came by the thousands to witness a day that would mark history for their people: a visit from James Anaya, the world’s highest-ranking indigenous advocate, U.N. Special Rapporteur for Indigenous Rights.

“There are some who believe the Mayans are gone, and all that remains are these ruins,” a man dressed in white was speaking from the stage. “We are here to tell them: we are alive, and we are hear to bring these monuments back to life.”

Listen to the podcast:

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Goldcorp’s Marlin Mine: “Development for death”

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 24, 2010Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Mining, WhyTags: Central America, environment, Goldcorp, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Latin America, Marlin Mine, Mayans, Mining

Goldcorp’s Marlin Mine: “Development for death”

Author’s note (June 24, 2010): Today’s Prensa Libre carried the news that the Guatemalan government has agreed to abide by the requests of the Interamerican Commission on Human Rights, the Catholic Church, the International Labor Organization and the U.N. Special Rapporteur on Indigenous Rights and has ordered the temporary suspension of operations at the Marlin Mine. Goldcorp, the Canadian owner, has announced it will continue operations. “We welcome this opportunity to demonstrate once again Goldcorp’s record of respectful, environmental sound operations at Marlin,” Goldcorp CEO Chuck Jeannes was quoted in Mineweb, a publication covering the mining industry.
This is the second in a series about Anaya’s recent visit to Guatemala and the issues surrounding that visit.

SAN MIGUEL IXTAHUACAN – The road up into this mountain town seems to wind forever upward, and I’m frustrated because we’re late. The meeting with the U.N Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous People, James Anaya, is scheduled to begin his meeting with the people at 8. I don’t understand why Joshue is stopping for breakfast.

I needn’t have worried. I’m with Josue Navarro and Bart Van Besien, two members of the dedicated staff of COPAE, the Pastoral Commission for Peace and Ecology, and their peaceful trajectory is in keeping with local traditions.

We arrive at the parish hall to find it filled with animated people in their colorful native dress, milling excitedly around a spectacular mandala created from colored sawdust and flowers in the center of the floor – but no James Anaya. Feeling lucky to find a seat, I settle in and wait; listen to a few speeches and a few marimba tunes, shoot a few photos and wait some more.

This is a big day in San Miguel Ixtahuacan. This small town has drawn big headlines in the past few months, and has been the subject of several documentaries. That’s because the transnational Goldcorp has a tremendously profitable mine here, the Marlin Mine, which many in this Mam Maya community say they never agreed to.
Residents complain of strange rashes on their children’s skins and other symptoms, of cracks in the walls of houses near the mine, and of repression from local authorities when they dare to speak out against the mine. A recent study by University of Michigan physicians showed elevated levels of heavy metals in the blood of residents living near the mine, but said they were uncertain whether those levels constituted a risk.

Goldcorp officials – here in Guatemala the subsidiary is called Montana Exploradora – say there is no evidence of contamination, and the government so far has agreed.

The wait stretches into an hour, and suddenly everyone gets up to leave. Everyone seems to know what’s going on except Bart and me. “We’re going to the field,” someone explains to me. The field? “Yes, that’s where the helicopter is coming.”

Sure enough, everyone was gathering around a big field, holding up signs that expressed their rejection of the mine.

The helicopter landed to great fanfare and paparazzi, and James Anaya emerged from the helicopter: a tall, photogenic man with Native American features and a gentle smile. He and his entourage were greeted by local leaders and led back to the parish for the proceedings.

The first order of business was a ceremony. A group of beautiful young Mam Maya women and men gather around the mandala and perform a graceful dance in honor of the sacred elements, the water, represented by the earthen pots they carry, and the earth, represented by the green tree seedlings they “plant” at the center of the mandala.

Now it was Anaya’s turn. Hundreds of traditionally dressed Mam Maya highlanders looked on with bated breath as Anaya, perhaps the world’s highest-ranking authority on indigenous issues, knelt before the altar to light the red candle.

“Red signifies abundance, energy and life, and whoever lights the red candle has the responsibility of looking out for the well-being of our community,” Sister Maudilia had said, handing the matches to Anaya.
The task was not as easy as it seemed. The wick was short, and the flame wavered and threatened to fail. Anaya, however, was up to the task. He persisted, working with the candle and nurturing the flame until it grew steady.
The onlookers erupted into applause.

Carmen Mejia, a leader of the San Miguel Association for Integral Development, took the mike and began with a short history of the mining company’s entrance into the community.

“They entered under deceit and lies; they were offering productive jobs for people here. They didn’t say they were a mining company; they never said they were here to extract gold and silver. They said it was a project for development, and they began acquiring lands. Once they had some land they began to coerce the neighbors to sell their land. ‘If you don’t sell to us, you’ll be surrounded and buried,’ they were told if they resisted.”

The company continued, she said, manipulating and gathering signatures under false pretenses.

“The company is operating illegally, because it lacks the social license to be here,” she said. “The people of San Miguel were never consulted.”

Exploration of the mine began, and that’s when the damage began occurring, she said. Neighbors began speaking out.

“The answer was criminalization, persecution, the threatening of campesinos and campesinas. In 2007, we had seven comrades processed; five were liberated, but two were condemned to three years of prison and liberated, under the condition that they stop speaking out against the mine. In 2008, eight women campesina leaders, indigenous Mam Maya women, were under an order of capture, just for speaking out for their rights. In 2009, five campesinos were arrested and charged, and in 2010 five more. And why? Because the people of San Miguel have demanded their rights.

“They’ve spoken out for their right to life, for their right to water; for their right to safe homes. In San Miguel, more than 120 houses have been cracked and broken, their lives are in danger…. They’ve spoken out for the environment, for the rivers and the flora and the fauna that are being contaminated.

“This is what we’re living here in San Miguel; we’re seeing more illnesses, in the people and in the animals, including animals that have died after drinking contaminated water.

“Seeing all of this, seeing all of the manipulation and the criminalization and the conflict that has occurred at the community level, we have come to the conclusion that an extractive industry like a mine is not compatible with a Mam community.”

Anaya heard from a labor leader who said there were miners who had been injured and who knew about the contamination but weren’t free to talk; a women’s rights leader who said the company claims to be giving women opportunities but that they are being manipulated and exploited; and from a number of others.
“Next you’ll go and speak to the government officials and the mining officials, and they’ll tell you we’re just a little grupito of troublemakers,” said a man introduced as Don Ricardo. “But we are not a grupito. We are thousands. We represent our communities, and we represent many more who are afraid to speak up because of the reprisals.”

Sister Maudilia López, of FREDEMI (Front in Resistance of San Miguel), a Catholic sister and a Mam Maya leader of the resistance against the mining, presented the officials with handmade earthen pots used for carrying water.

“These are humble works, but they are made by our own hands, and we make them not to do damage but to give life – to share the sacred good that is water,” Maudilia said earnestly. “I ask myself, why are we doing damage to our Mother Earth, and to all of the mothers who make these pots from our Mother Earth? This is not a development for life, it’s a development for death.”

The next stop was with Alcalde Joel Domingo Obidio Bamaca, mayor of San Miguel Ixtahuacan. “There’s a group that says yes, and a group that says no – and I can’t take sides, because I’m the mayor of all the people,” Obidio told the dignitaries. “I’m not a scientist and I’m not an environmentalist; I can’t say one way or another. It’s complicated.”

After a few minutes, the public was asked to leave and the officials held a private meeting.

The next stop on the tour was a trip to the tiny settlement of Ajel, home of Crisanta Hernandez, where the light of day shines through huge cracks in the walls and ceilings. Like about 120 other families whose homes have opened large cracks since the beginning of mining operations, she believes it’s the constant grinding of heavy equipments, trucks and blasting in the area – once a quiet neighborhood on a mountainside – that has destroyed the houses.

“We’re afraid to be living inside this house now, but it’s all we have,” Hernandez said. “It’s a great damage they’ve done to us. We worked for years in the fincas, suffering in the rain and in the sun, for years we ate cold tortillas with salt, to save the money to buy this house. We wanted to have a dignified home to leave for our children…it’s not fair.”

The company denies any responsibility.

Crisanta Perez, however, is the first to speak, and she tells of her arrest in 2008 and again in 2009 for speaking out against the mine. She tells the officials that she was in hiding but returned home to give birth and a few days later was apprehended by officers and very nearly taken to jail but that local citizens intervened and demanded her release. Ever since, she has been afraid to leave her home.

Grahame Russel of the Canandian group Rights Action tells Crisanta’s story here, with video and background information. http://www.rightsaction.org/articles/Goldcorp_&_Mam_woman_020410.html

Dozens of journalists and supporters crowded into the tiny home to listen. When a villager began to speak about the skin rashes and prepared to undress her baby to expose the condition, Anaya asked us to leave so they could talk alone.

As we waited, neighbors prepared us a delicious ginger atol – a drink made from corn – and chicken soup.

The next stop was the Marlin Mine, where the reception was decidedly colder; the public and media waited out in the rain while Anaya’s team went inside and met with company officials.

After that, we bid our farewells and headed up to Huehuetenango, the site of Thursday’s gathering. I was left with an image of the Marlin Mine, a vast extension of brown amid the rolling green mountains and a bluish green tailings lake that stretched for what seemed like a mile.

I was reminded of the statistic that perhaps holds the greatest impact for the people of these regions: In an hour, this mine uses the same amount a Mayan family uses in 22 years.

Videos:
An excellent short documentary, “La Mina,” by Paul Plett and Esther Epp-Tiessen for the Mennonite Central Committee: http://mcc.org/stories/videos/la-mina

And a four-part investigative series by the Canadian broadcasting network CTV, “Paradise Lost”:
http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20100415/w5_paradise_lost_100415/20100417

Images from San Miguel Ixtahuacan and Ajel on the day of Anaya’s visit:

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Indigenous Guatemalans to UN: No to mining, yes to life

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 17, 2010Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Indigenous rights, Mining, WhyTags: Goldcorp, Guatemala, Huehuetenango, Indigenous rights, indigenous territory, James Anaya, Marlin Mine, Mining, Zaculeu

Indigenous Guatemalans to UN: No to mining, yes to life

We fell into step behind a river of them making their way to Zaculeu, the ancient Mayan ruin on the outskirts of the city, and they poured into the entrance. A sun-bronzed elder, her hair done up in the beautifully woven cloth traditional in her village, lit up when she saw me and embraced me, greeting me as though she had known me for years.

“Buenos días,” she said. “Gracias – Thank you so much for being here.” I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
As we entered the complex an astounding vision met us: the pyramids, which I had seen a few hours before in their stark whiteness, were alive with people – thousands of them – traditionally dressed Maya people in all their glory.

Many of them were holding placards. “No to mining; yes to life” read some. “San Juan Atitan says no to the multinational corporations,” read another.

“There are some who believe the Mayans are gone, and all that remains are these ruins,” a man dressed in white with a cowboy hat was speaking from the stage. “We are here to tell them: we are alive, and we are hear to bring these monuments back to life.”

The crowd roared its assent.

Anaya was here along with other members of the U.S. High Commission on Human Rights, part of a weeklong information-gathering tour in the wake of allegations that the Guatemalan government has illegally granted hundreds of mining concessions on indigenous lands to multinational corporations without their consent. What he was witnessing was part of a mass uprising of indigenous communities that are becoming increasingly organized and increasingly vocal in a desperate bid to protect their territories from growing pressure from the extractive industries.

On Monday he met with government officials in the capital; on Tuesday he was greeted by an estimated 12,000 mostly indigenous people in the highland village of San Juan Sacatepequez who had come from all over the country to denounce the violation of their lands by foreign-owned mining companies, hydroelectric companies and a giant cement operation.

Wednesday the delegation made its way up into the remote mountain village of San Miguel Ixtahuacan, where the transnational giant Goldcorp operates a gold mine that has stripped away a vast stretch of these mountains.

And today, the fourth day of his fact-finding mission, he began at the crack of dawn here amid the pyramids outside Huehuetenango, observing in an ancient Mayan ceremony. Later he heard from community leaders of a mass movement that has organized an estimated half-million indigenous people in a series of consultas, or referendums, around the country in a near-unanimous rejection of mining on their lands – referendums authorized under an international law signed by the Guatemalan government, but which it now declares to be nonbinding.

“This is a historic day for our people,” said Aniseto Lopez of FREDEMI (Front in Defense of San Miguel de Ixtahuacan). “We have been crying out for many years, but today our voice will be heard. This meeting won’t solve everything, but it’s another step ahead. And cost us what it will, we will achieve our goal – because reality is on our side.”

Tomorrow Anaya will deliver a report to the Guatemalan government. Meanwhile, here are some images from two incredible days with the indigenous resistance and their entreaty to James Anaya.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Archaeologist shifts focus to modern-day Mayans

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 16, 2010Posted in: Featured, Food Security, Forest protection, Guatemala, ProPeten, WhyTags: environment, Guatemala, Latin America, Maya, Mayans, Peten, ProPeten, Rosa Maria Chan, Sustainable development

Archaeologist shifts focus to modern-day Mayans

POPTUN, Guatemala – It’s been a long day, and Rosa Maria Chan is still not finished. She’s traveled for hours on twisty, rocky country roads, held community meetings in three villages, toured a cacao farm, met with the liaison for funding from the World Bank and a tilapia farmer, answered questions all day long from a visiting journalist, checked in with the Guatemalan Vice-Minister of the Environment and a score of others via cell phone, and ate a hasty dinner while checking her e-mail.

It’s 9 p.m., and by most people’s standards, it would be a good time to turn in. She has a two-day workshop on watershed protection beginning tomorrow, and she needs to prepare.

But now the mayor of Poptun is here, visiting with a Guatemalan legislator who is head of the committee on environment, and she has some networking to do.

There’s no such thing as down time for Rosa Maria Chan, director of ProPeten, archaeologist turned administrator of one of the country’s most respected environmental organizations. The tireless drive she once applied in six-day jungle expeditions, like the one where she discovered an ancient Mayan village she named Zapote Corozal, she now channels into marathon searches for funding.

This time, however, she’s motivated not by the call of an ancient people but the spirit of their descendents, migrants who have been pushed off their land by poverty and war. These are the people she sees as key to a stable, sustainable future for a seriously troubled region.

The Peten, home of Tikal and a host of other magnificent Mayan cities, takes up a third of Guatemala; it is the largest of the country’s states, or departments. Until relatively recently, it was an untamed jungle wilderness. In the 1960s, that began to change, with the construction of a new highway, followed by wealthy landowners coming in and clearing the jungle to make way for enormous cattle ranches. These landowners, called latifundistas, were seeking a calmer place to live, away from the conflicts in the highlands resulting from an attempt at agrarian reform, and Kek’chi and Mopan Mayas moved there to work the plantations.

The ‘70s and ‘80s brought a different sort of migrant, those fleeing violence in their homelands in the highlands. In three decades, the population of the area increased 10 percent each year; in 1990, the former wilderness was home to 300,000. But the bulk of the newcomers didn’t find the good farmland they were hoping for, as most of that had already been snatched up by the latifundistas. Instead they settled on parcels on the hillsides and planted their milpas as they had for centuries. The forest was decimated.

In 1990 the government responded to international pressure to preserve what was left of the forest – mainly a huge swath of jungle and wetlands in the north, where the Maya Biosphere Reserve was created, forming the largest natural preserve in Central America. In 1995 it followed suit with four smaller preserves in the south of Peten.

In theory, it sounded good. The problem was that the people living there had nowhere to go. A long-range plan to resettle them was not carried out, and continued population growth led more and more people to invade the preserves, causing escalating conflicts, especially in the region of the Maya Biosphere Reserve, where ProPeten – at that time a project of Conservation International – had a field station to do research and work with local communities to protect the preserve.

Unfortunately, people in the local communities saw the environmental community as a threat to their survival. The tensions culminated in the burning of the field station and a highly publicized incident in which members of the ProPeten staff were held hostage.

This was all before Rosa Maria’s time, but she relates the history as if it were her own – as it was soon to be, as Carlos Sosa, her longtime friend and mentor and the founder and director of ProPeten, asked her to become the head of its board of directors. “I know you, and I know you will never sell out ProPeten,” he told her.

The hostage crisis, Rosa Maria says, just brought to a head the differences in philosophy between the staff of Conservation International and the local staff of ProPeten. As she sees it, Conservation International, like most of the mainline conservation organizations at the time, took a strictly conservation-oriented approach, whereas the local staff recognized the need to integrate social policies into the organization, a need that CI failed to respond to.

“That’s why I refer to myself – and to ProPeten – as an environmentalist, not a conservationist,” Rosa Maria told me on the day we met. “I see people as part of the environment, and if you don’t include them in your plan, it will fail.”

Sosa gave up trying to convince the Conservation International leadership to change their strategy and decided it was time to separate. What ensued was a painful power struggle that Rosa Maria euphemistically calls “a divorce.” As chair of the board of directors, she was drawn into the struggle. It was a nightmarish time that she doesn’t like to recall, especially the most painful part. During that year, Sosa was diagnosed with late-stage cancer, and soon after, he died.

The board of directors called an emergency meeting and immediately asked Rosa Maria to take over as director. It was a difficult decision, as she was currently involved in a high-profile archaeological project at Piedras Negras, listed as one of the world’s most endangered historical sites by UNESCO. The organization was left nearly bankrupt and without even an office or supplies after the rift with CI. Most people would have run in the opposite direction.

But Rosa Maria felt called to the task. She finished her two-month commitment at Piedras Negras and set to work rebuilding the organization. Seven years later, by all accounts, her work has paid off; ProPeten is seen locally, nationally and internationally as one of Guatemala’s most successful environmental organizations.

One key to Rosa Maria’s success has been her longtime experience working with government and nonprofit agencies. She started by working her way through college in a job with the Guatemalan Secretary of Planning. Here she learned how to do budgets and negotiate the system, and she began to build allies at the national level. She later held jobs with several other nonprofits, including the German nonprofit GTZ, and learned how to write fundraising proposals.

On a normal day, she juggles telephones and e-mail accounts and meetings with the agility of an acrobat. But today, she’s left all that behind to enjoy the fresh air of the countryside and meet with some of the communities she’ll be raising funds for. I’ve been invited to ride along, because this is really the only time she has to meet with me. So she and two ProPeten staffers, Elder Hernandez and Hector Choc, explain to me some of the many programs ProPeten is sponsoring in the countryside as we bump along a country road past scorched hillsides and grazing cattle.

On this particular day, she’s meeting with some of the five communities that have expressed an interest in starting cacao farms. Rosa Maria is approaching international foundations to find the funding for this project, and she wants to be sure the communities are prepared to invest the time necessary for a successful project.
“Cacao is a good thing to promote here because it’s native to the area, and it’s part of their indigenous tradition,” she explained. “It requires shade, so it’s a form of agroforestry, which protects the soils and the watersheds.”

Ultimately, however, perhaps the most important result is to give these families a way to earn a living on their own land without slashing, burning and using it up, as so many families have done. It will also give them the incentive to resist the land speculators coming through to buy up tracts for the oil palm companies, which ProPeten and other environmental groups see as an increasing threat to the region.

Other programs that ProPeten is sponsoring now throughout the countryside include tilapia ponds, ecotourism projects, a educational program with a soap opera and xate cultivation – xate is a native plant used by the floral industry which has been severely depleted in Guatemalan forests by foraging campesinos who sell it to make a living.

In fact, the illegal harvesting of xate has grown to the point that, as Guatemalan forests have been depleted, people have been crossing over the border to Belize to harvest their xate. The plant is now in danger of extinction and the government has passed a law requiring xate dealers to verify that their harvests come from legitimate sources. Guatemalan incursions into Belize for xate harvesting is on the decline in the past year, Rosa Maria’s Belizian contacts have told her, in part due to the new law and in part because of the xate cultivation promoted by ProPeten.

After two days in the communities come two days of meetings of an entirely different sort: local and regional leaders gather to map out a strategy for watershed protection. Then, on Saturday, a meeting with a local women’s cooperative.

While Rosa Maria’s work may be tiring, it is not without its rewards. Southern Peten has embraced her with open arms, and everyone from the mayor to the local agriculture administrator and the head of the regional planning department shows up to spend two days mapping out a watershed management plan under her direction.

“I’ve had the opportunity to work closely with Rosa Maria since the beginning of my administration and I’ve seen the success she’s had administering this organization and working with the local groups and the municipality,” said Poptun Mayor Angel Kilkán Ochoa. “She’s a woman of enormous vision, and I wish we had 10 or more people like her, and that all the municipalities would work with her and her team to lift up our communities together.”

Donald Perez, coordinator of the regional organization of community leaders, agreed. “I would say that today, ProPeten is the NGO with the weight and experience to represent the initiatives of conservation and human development in Peten – and given that Peten represents a third of Guatemala, we could say that we’re really good ambassadors for conservation at an international level for our country, thanks to the live experiences of ProPeten that are excellent examples.”

Here are some images from the four days I spent with Rosa Maria, Hector and Elder. The videotaped interview with Rosa Maria (above) is available only in Spanish at this time – sorry!). For more information about ProPeten, visit their website, www.ProPeten.org.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Dear friends of Guatemala (A letter from IMAP)

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 14, 2010Posted in: Featured, Guatemala, Instituto Meso Americano de Permacultura (IMAP), Organic agriculture, Permaculture, Reforestation, Watershed protection, WhyTags: disaster relief, Guatemala, IMAP, Instituto Mesoamericano de Permacultura, Lake Atitlan, Mesoamerican Permacuture Institute, permaculture, Rebecca Cutter, Rony Lec, Tropical Storm Agatha

Dear friends of Guatemala (A letter from IMAP)

Following is a letter from Rony Lec, cofounder of the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute (IMAP), which I wrote about recently in (Permaculture takes root in Lake Atitlan). The letter is to IMAP’s supporters, and if you’re not already on their list, this would be a good time to join them.

Rony is now among the leaders of his town’s efforts to rebuild the local community of San Lucas Toliman and the surrounding villages. Any support that can be given either to his organization, or through his organization to the reconstruction effort, will help strengthen the Permaculture community and philosophy in this region, an approach that is firmly rooted in native tradition and ecological practice. For more information on how to help, contact Rony at nativasemilla@hotmail.com or Rebecca Cutter at rebecutter@gmail.com.

Dear friends of Guatemala,

We are sorry we have not informed you about the tragedy that probably by now you have probably heard about. First there was the volcano, Pacaya, and then Tropical Storm Agatha. We have been very busy trying to respond in a coordinated way.

The magnitude of the catastrophe has had more impact than Hurricane Stan in 2005, since it was early in the rainy season and we had 4,000 millimeters of water in 24 hours, which the rugged topography of our land could not handle. Making matters worse is that this is just the beginning of the hurricane season.

At the national level, the storm has left us with more than 400,000 people affected; at least 152 are dead from flooding or landslides, 98 are still missing and147 wounded; 87,000 are in public shelters and uncounted thousands more sheltered with family and friends; and 48,000 homes are damaged or in high-risk areas. The roads have been ruined and that has caused food prices to increase. That, along with the loss of all the crops that had just begun coming up, will soon be manifested in a severe food shortage.

In the Lake Atitlan area, most of the communities were affected. Throughout Guatemala, 19 areas of high risk have been identified, and 9 of them are located here in our department of Sololá. Forty-one emergency shelters in Sololá reported 7,500 homeless this week. In our village of San Lucas Toliman, where IMAP is located, fortunately only 10 people died, but thousands have been left homeless. Eight neighborhoods are still habitable but they are in such high-risk areas it’s not recommended that they return.

Our center at IMAP has been designated as a shelter for the community of Pachitulul, which is one of the 13 communities of the San Lucas Toliman municipality. Pachitulul is also a high-risk area, but this time they were not affected directly. We are now compelled to step forward and participate in the emergency relief effort of the entire San Lucas municipality and coordinating throughout the Lake area by working together with other community groups to fill in for the leadership void that is now presenting itself.

IMAP has been working since 2000 on risk management in this disaster-prone area by generating information and educational materials, and holding workshops that have educated hundreds of people throughout the region. We have promoted reforestation, land and water management and food security by promoting seeds and foods that are more resistant, not only to disease but to these dramatic weather changes we are experiencing.
Fortunately that strong sense of community of the Guatemalan people has come again to the rescue, and thanks to that, the situation is under control. However, their resources are limited and the danger is still very present.

Our effort right now is to encourage that solidarity and at the same time channel all the information and efforts of all the organizations with the idea to coordinate so that we can be more efficient and more resourceful.
Food is present at the shelters but it is scarce. Aid has been delivered but not always the appropriate aid. For example, many of the indigenous women won’t wear Western clothes no matter what, and most of the women’s clothing being donated won’t be used. Milk is being delivered, which is not healthy for most indigenous people, who have a high incidence of lactose intolerance.

Governmental presence is intermittent and not very substantial, limited mostly to moral support. One local NGO was quoted in the Prensa Libre estimating that about 80 percent of all assistance has come from private citizens, not the government.

If you’re interested in more information or in supporting the relief effort in any way, please contact us and we will direct you in the best way. Also, if you want to support IMAP directly so that it can continue doing its work, we would be more than grateful.

We thank you for your solidarity, which has always provided for us.

Sincerely,

Rony Lec
for the Instituto Mesoamericano de Permacultura (IMAP)

Permaculture takes root in Lake Atitlan

Tracy Barnett

Published: June 8, 2010Posted in: Environmental education, Featured, Food Security, Forest protection, Guatemala, Instituto Meso Americano de Permacultura (IMAP), Organic agriculture, Permaculture, WhyTags: Guatemala, I'jatz, IMAP, Instituto Mesoamericano de Permacultura, Lake Atitlan, Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute, Permacultura America Latina, permaculture, Rebecca Cutter, Ronaldo Lec, Rony Lec, seed banks

SAN LUCAS TOLIMAN, Guatemala – Rony Lec is roasting coffee beans on a clay comal when I arrive, stirring patiently as the smoke rises. He grew the coffee out back, and every step of the process, like many of his processes, is his own.

We’re seated at his kitchen table now, in the home he designed and built, sharing a cup of the freshest coffee I’ve ever tasted. A soft-spoken Kakchiquel Maya with a loose ponytail and a gentle voice, Rony takes a sip of the fragrant brew and settles in to tell me his story.

The light filters in pleasantly from above through a skylight, an artfully placed series of bamboo tubes and the brown, green and white glass cylinders high above us that are set into the adobe walls. Later I learn, to my surprise, that these colorful cylinders are discarded bottles.

A tree trunk with its gracefully gnarled limbs emerges somewhere from the wrought-iron staircase; a lamp woven from bamboo hangs above us. The stone wall and arched door of the sauna in the background, the lush greenery of the garden out back and the savory aroma of home-grown and home-cooked food complete the picture of natural harmony.

I am at home with a permaculturist.

Permaculture, for the uninitiated, is a design system that incorporates everything from agriculture to architecture to community and organizational development into an elegant system that works in harmony with nature.

How permaculture came to this tiny village amid the volcanoes on the shores of Lake Atitlan is a story as winding as the canals Rony designed to slow down the torrential floodwaters here.

Rony was one of the hundreds of thousands of Guatemalans whose lives were blown apart by the 36-year civil war. He was just a boy when his father was killed by the army.

“My family was always involved in community development and organizing, and that was the reality in those days; anyone who was working with the community was perceived as a threat.”

His family, in fear for their lives, fled to the United States with the help of the Catholic diocese of New Ulm, Minn., which has a strong presence in this village.

Rony studied at the University of St. Thomas in Minnesota, earning a degree in cultural anthropology, but always with the idea of coming back home and applying it in a way that would make a difference for his people.
“I never wanted to gain knowledge just to put it in a book on a shelf,” he said. “For me, knowledge has to go beyond theory, it’s something you must put into practice.”

Returning home in 1994, when the conflict had calmed and negotiations were underway, he looked around for a project that could apply what he’d learned about his roots in the Mayan tradition, a tradition interwoven with the rhythms of nature.

“My idea was how to reconstruct and rescue the traditional, ancestral knowledge, and of course much of that had to do with agriculture, because that’s the base of our culture.”

On his own he read far and wide about alternative agricultural practices, and he began to dig into the ancient traditions of his own people. He found his first project on a piece of flood-prone land near the lake, owned by the Catholic Diocese. The land was compacted from many years of cattle grazing, and it flooded, along with the surrounding homes, every rainy season.

Rony asked for the land to try out the ancient system known in ancient Nahuatl as chinampas. The chinampa system is most famously illustrated by the design of ancient Mexico City, which was built by diverting the waters of a swampy lake into canals. Xochimilco, a historic neighborhood in the south of Mexico City, is the last vestige of the old chinampa system.

Here in the Guatemalan highlands, the Kakchiquel Maya had the same concept with a different name, but it fell out of use many years ago with the advent of modern agriculture.

Rony organized a group of subsistence farmers to help him analyze the situation and reclaim the land so that they could farm it, and they spent weeks digging the ditches that would slow down and channelize the rushing waters. But come rainy season, it didn’t work; the canals were clogged with sediment, and the project was swamped.

“Of course, in the anthropology books they tell you about the chinampas, but they don’t tell you how to build them,” he recalls with a laugh.

That’s when he was invited to a conference in the States on traditional agricultural practices, and he decided to make the trip with a dual purpose: to visit the Santa Fe-based center of Permacultura America Latina.

It was there at the “permaculture mansion” of one of the PAL board members that Rony began to realize the potential of permaculture to transform living systems. He explained his plan to PAL founder Ali Sharif, who took a look and quickly diagnosed the problem. The canals he had made were linear and angular – not like anything you’d find in nature. The trick to designing systems that work well is in mimicking nature, Sharif explained, working with nature instead of against it.

The trip was a breakthrough for him, and he ended up making another trip to Australia to study with the legendary Bill Mollison, one of the founders of the permaculture system.

Soon after his trip to Australia, he was joined by Rebecca Cutter, an artist, designer and educator from New York, who had heard about Rony’s group, then called Ija’tz, the Kakchiquel word for seeds. All she knew about the project was that it combined design and organic agriculture in some innovative ways. She came down to volunteer and ended up staying.

The new chinampa design was by all accounts a success. Rebecca took me on a tour and I was able to see the lush forest they had created on this urban tract of about 60 by 150 meters, where there once was only barren, compacted ground. It was raining, so I saw the canal system at work.

“What this does is slow the water down,” Rebecca explained. “Fast water is destructive.”

Runoff from surrounding hillsides carries tons of soil, silt, sand and other debris with it, which formerly ended up in the houses of the people who were flooded each year. Now the water as well as the soil it carries is retained on the land, and at the end of each rainy season when the canals dry up, the farmers empty them of that season’s load of rich soil, sand and silt, piling it up on the sides. In this way, mounds of rich, fertile soil a meter high or more has been built along the meandering canals.

A profusion of tropical plant life, much of it edible, sprouts from those hills. Rebecca shows me the house where they once lived on the site, and a “banana circle,” a permaculture technique involving a circle of banana palms used to treat greywater.

IxChel, Rebecca and Rony’s curly-haired, bright and energetic daughter, accompanies us on the tour, running off to gather wild strawberries and yellow flowers to share with us.

The growers collective who made up Ija’tz eventually decided to focus their energy around the production and commercialization of organic coffee. Rony and Rebecca supported their decision but wanted to continue promoting Permaculture with a focus on the protection of genetic diversity both locally and throughout Mesoamerica. So in 2000, Rony and Rebecca founded the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute, or IMAP, and the two associations continue to collaborate and support each other.

In the decade since its founding, the group has organized local growers to produce seeds and vegetables organically and has helped to create fair trade markets and seed exchanges with farmers and organizations working locally and throughout Guatemala; set up a center that has adapted the permaculture system to a subtropical and indigenous setting; where they’ve taught hundreds of students, both local and international; and responded to the disaster created by Hurricane Stan with low-tech water treatment systems, soil conservation practices, community gardens and other appropriate-technology approaches to disaster relief.

Perhaps their biggest success has been the establishment of a seed bank, housing seeds from thousands of native plants and disseminating them among local growers to keep them in circulation. The seed bank is a concept that has been growing in response to an increased homogenization of agriculture, with corporate growers pressuring local varieties out of existence.

Now, however, it’s time for us to go, and the rain is growing stronger. My tour of IMAP and the seed bank will have to wait for another day.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.