News from a guatemalan village

Today is election day in Guatemala. I am down in the town of San Ildefonso de Ixtahuacan where all the people from the various villages in this municipality (west of Huehuetenango, up in the NW part of the country close to Mexico) come to vote...and to go to the market. Through the eyes of a western consumer, the market offers multiples of the same things: thread to make the traditional clothes (trajes), fruits, vegetables, watch repair, plastic shoes, soap (very harsh to make up for the lack of warm water), flashlights (to compensate for the lack of reliable electricity), a few chickens and many many products with the main ingredient being sugar: candy, soda, ice cream, bread etc. I doubt that the results of the election will change the daily lives of the inhabitants. It is said that the candidate of the party promising´´Mano Duro´ a strong hand, will win...that certainly didn´t work before except for the few who gain much when the majority works hard and suffers. But maybe the violence will dampen a bit after the election. Of course, in a country where a tiny minority owns most of the workable land, the only real change would be land reform. And if you attempt to put this possiblity into practice, your life may be cheap. For those of us who live in cities in the North, I think it is probably hard to feel this...we are so disconnected from our land and the sources of our food, houses and souls. I promised more cheer in my last post: since I was here a year and a half ago, 9000 trees have been planted in three villages up the mountain through the AFOPADI project! In January, they will take a census to see how many are living. How wonderful to be here when the plants are green! The milpa (maize) sways in the wind and towers about twice my height which is that of the average Mayan. Different other harvests happen and I am fortunate to try new fruits (Jacote...like a small tart mango with a giant seed, good laxative) and vegetables (Pacaya...a minature broom or octupus in form & texture with the flavor of an artichoke: first you boil it a long time then you dip it in whipped egg batter and fry). The great excitement is that the silo project and the organic agriculture and reforesting projects are in full tilt. The organic plots produce higher yields. The silos function to protect corn from the rats (not only do they consume the corn but leave their droppings which of course leads to sickness) as well as conserve for a time when there is little food in the village after the harvest. During these months (Jan. thru April) only women and children and hens and pigs, sheep and a few horses remain...the men now go mostly to work in construction in Cancun or in the fields of Mexico. Coffee is no longer a big product here, sugar cane remains a big guatemalan export to the States. The really scary truth is that here, where maize originated (a sacred spot), I hear that all the corn is genetically engineered and the compesinos must buy seed from Monsanto since it is patented...just like most of the corn in the States. This is one of the many reasons I do not believe Ethenol is the solution to global warming. Instead, from here, consumption in the States looms large. Daily life here does not include many cars. Among other luxeries. Instead, the salvation of the pick-up. To walk from Casaca to Papal (the village up in the clouds) takes a campesino 3 hours but 1 in the pick-up crowded in the back like sardines. Papal is an amazing place. While very deforested, the inhabitants have much land on which to grow crops...the land is high, the slopes are great, water is scarce and the distances to cart organic fertilizer is great. But the results amaze...I will post photos of the reforesting, the organic parcels, the profoundly shaped faces when I return. We visited the nursery in Papal: tiny seedlings trying to survive the brisk temperatures amidst cloud cover. We saw experiments of fruit trees and reforesting, all examples of great physical and internal strength and hope. I am not sure I would have such fortitude in the midst of such extreme conditions. Food, education, heat, water, electricity, health care, human rights all are extremely lacking. The people I have come to know inspire me with their persistance, gentle manners and friendly hearts. I miss my family and friends at home but am not sure they would be comfortable here. Spiders loom large and daily comforts are of a different sort than at home in the States. Each time I return from Guatemalan, I am most impressed by my liberal consumption of water. The elementals are profound here: during a Mayan ceremony to initiate an agriculture workshop, we lit candles to honor them: Red for the sunrise; Black for the night; Yellow for water; White for the wind; Green for the earth and Blue for the sky that is infinite. Only we are the limit to infinity. I am reading extraordinary essays by George Sanders (I think that is his name, he won a MacArthur Genius Grant and the book is called THE BRAINDEAD MEGAPHONE). I hesitate to finish the last essay, but it is about a 12 year old boy in Nepal who has mediated for 7 months without food. The author does such a fine job of examining the people around him and himself through the same lens. He discusses those human desires that have corrupted men and the earth for thousands of years. Perhaps knowing bit of those other motivational forces can instruct me for my return to my daily habits.