 GUATEMALA JOURNALS
Photography by Steve Wallstrom
Journals by James Mallory
February 14, 2003
Soon after crossing the border into Guatemala from Mexico our eyes feasted on magestic mountains such as these. The change in scenery was dramatic and unprecidented in our trip as of yet. These mountains are where much of the worlds best coffee is grown. photo by SW
Xela, Guatemala
Arriving in Xela, we settle in for a couple weeks of Spanish classes. The non-profit school provides one on one instruction for 5 hours per day. Living with a local Guatemalan family is also a large part of the education as mine didn't speak a drop of English. This definitely creates an inspiring atmosphere as you stumble through dinner using more charades than vocabulary.
Before fully appreciating the new sedentary lifestyle we head off to the capital to replace our pathetic tires. Once again the process takes hours longer and we stare down the barrel of another night drive. Some day we'll learn. For now Steve translates the mechanic's warning as we fire up the bikes, travel at night no good, bandits on highway.' As darkness falls the first flashes of lightning appear in the distance. Fabulous. I quickly remind God of our little Chiapas escapade and petition that I see no reason for another trial. What starts as a nice Washington trickle slowly gains steam into a tropical downpour. Stubbornly refusing to stop and throw on our Gore-Tex pants we are promptly soaked. Serves us right I suppose. I'm not sure what part of the human psyche prefers two hours of drenched legs over three minutes of preparation, but whatever it is, I have no shortage. Although for a short while I foolishly enjoy the refreshing chill. Chico Mendez reforestation project near Xela. The project is both founded and run by local Guatemaltecos, altough foreign volunteers are more than welcome. This makeshift greenhouse contained about 5000 pine tree seedlings at the time this photo was taken. photo by SW
As the visibility dropped to 20 ft in a thick, soupy fog my countenance changed abruptly. Rolling off the throttle we enter the curviest stretch yet, thankful for the light traffic. A mystical, swirling layer of steam chased across the road, entrancing me but also making navigation quite difficult. Obscuring the painted lines, the mist only allowed a 1/2 second glimpse into your future. It is an unnerving game of trust. Although you have no idea whether the road hooks right or left, when it turns you'll make the correct choice in time. Something akin to riding a roller coaster at night, only closing your eyes and screaming has decidedly negative effect.
Entering the last ten minutes before Xela it rained with such a fervor the road became a boiling sheet of white water. Distinguishable from the surrounding blackness by the faintest line of white, the road continued winding. On top of all this I managed to tweak my helmet so the shield wouldn't close completely. Thus drops of rain covered both sides, creating an interesting experience with each oncoming car. For a similar thrill, drive at night through a rainstorm without your wipers. I wish all those people that professed their jealousy of this trip could see me now.
-JM
  
The inner courtyard of the Proyecto Linguistico Quetzalteco de Español provides an ideal study environment. Classes are taught by locals, each teacher having one student for five hours a day, five days a week.
Bumbling through Spanish in Quetzaltenango
It is an odd quirk of traveling but conversing in a foreign language allows touchy subjects to become more approachable. Either the culture is just more open or they figure your ten words of Spanish provide the perfect backdrop for spilling their guts. Regardless, tales of mistresses, war and shattered childhoods have all been spilled on me through painfully slow conversations. Possessing a very limited vocabulary somehow forces a very blunt honesty. Simply because you can't mince words even if you wanted.
Surrounded by magestic mountains on all sides this picture shows both present beauty and future hopes. A skeleton of PVC pipe shows the beginings of what will soon hold thousands of pine trees later to be transplanted in the fertile soil of the mountains in the background. photo by SWAs my host mom describes growing up without parents and working full-time by 12 I silently remind myself not to mention any of my petty problems. Through numerous patient meals I learn she earns $6 a day as a seamstress and a little over $4 a day from the school. After three meals a day I can't imagine there is much left over. But as always this is related with a smile and is borne not of complaints, just a matter of fact realization of life.
-JM
Guatemalan Life
Though where the land is accessible, carrots, beats, bananas, corn and some of the worlds best coffee can be found. Oddly most the locals can't afford to drink their own harvest and opt for the Nescafe instant variety.
Crossing the boarder one also experiences a dramatic change in the religious climate. While Mexico is still heavily Catholic, its southern neighbor has a profoundly Protestant feel. Both of our host families in Xela are strongly protestant Christian families. Attending church with them on Sunday was interesting, besides the language it could have passed for any stateside charismatic church. Catholicism is a different story as the indigenous beliefs have been stirred together to create a nearly unrecognizable mix in many regions.
Christianity in Guatemala has followed a long and tumultuous road. From Spanish Conquistadors with papal tendencies to the current evangelical Christianity, religious history here is stained red. The former president Rios Montt, one of the most atrocious criminals, with 200,000 deaths to his credit, used evangelical Christianity as his political platform. In the face of such horrible realities I must remind myself that Christianity is about Christ, not all the misguided humans that fall so incredibly short.
Sitting around the dinner table I listen to Mariah (10 years old) pray for the orphans, indigenous people and the poor. Her sincerity exemplifies the pure faith that has survived in the face of such distorted circumstances. This is a family that stands resolutely in the conviction of their beliefs, unwilling to trade their peace for the bitter surroundings.
-JM
Family Life in Xela
In between spoonfuls of spinach soup and the ever-present maize I inquire about the local school system. While the government calls it 'free', after one factors in uniforms, books, supplies, etc. the cost is out of reach for many Guatemaltecos. This could account for the 37% rate of illiteracy.
Mariah and Blacky keepin it real. photo by SWThrough deeper probing I discover Mariah could attend a private school for about the price of one lift ticket per month. Obviously a very good student, it is painful to contemplate the dead end road awaiting her high-school graduation. Though I think I may have stumbled upon a solution. Develop a foreign exchange program that takes all the lazy punks in America schools and swaps them with the likes of Mariah. The Americans would return a bit more inspired and the Guatemalans would get a chance at a quality education.
Once again though, you reach a difficult fork in the road. Send up a nice prayer and be on your way or get into the nitty gritty stuff. Though when traveling you must somewhat insulate yourself from the vastness of need or you'll never make it past the first malnourished toddler. Yet to sterilize and whitewash the local problems into mere statistics relegates you to the role of professor, always observing, never acting.
-JM
 
Service Projects Armando, one of the founders of the reforestation project said that hope lies in these trees. His hope is to have more volunteers that share his vision for protecting the land that God intrusted to us all.
Volunteer opportunities abound in Xela, a product of the large influx of language school students. Projects range from medical and nutrition to farming and reforestation. We visited Chico Mendez, an ambitious reforestation program that planted 10,000 trees last year. Created and operated by Armando, a native Guatemalan, the grassroots campaign is driven by a handful of dedicated volunteers and a shoestring budget. Fueled by a simple concern for the environment, their attitude stands in refreshing contrast to the short sided degradation so rampant in other regions.
Willing volunteers can contribute a few hours or a few months preparing soil, harvesting seeds, planting saplings and educating the local community. Room and board with a local family for about $30US per week is also possible for longer stays. Steve conducted a short video interview with Armando, who was quite excited at the prospect of more publicity and volunteers.
The project takes its name from Brazilian rubber tapper, union leader and environmentalist Chico Mendez. HBO produced a film chronicling his life and eventual murder. One of the most powerful movies I've witnessed, if you can get your hands on The Burning Season, watch it. "If a messenger from the sky came down and guaranteed that my death would strengthen our struggle, it would be worth it. But experience teaches us the contrary. It's not with big funerals and motions of support that we're going to save the Amazon. I want to live." Chico Mendes (From an interview December 9, 1988, published posthumously in O Jornal do Brasil.) Chico was gunned down by angry ranchers 13 days later.
Sparking world-wide protest, his life and death left a legacy of preservation. The foremost being the Chico Mendez Extractive Reserve covering nearly a million hectares of Brazilian forest. An eerie response considering his quote.
Guatemala also provides some rather unconventional opportunities. In the aftermath of the war, a secretive organization has sprung up, charged with the task of monitoring local Guatemalans bringing lawsuits against the gov't. With more than 200,000 murders over the last half century, there is no shortage of this need. Workers interview and report on the success of their legal battles to human rights organizations.
Because of the governments obvious disdain for such lawsuits, every measure is taken to prevent the process from moving forward. Roadblocks, delays, etc. are all employed to keep the plaintiffs at bay. Unfortunately these tactics can be quite successful considering the large distances many cover to plead their case. When the courts decide to reschedule, the burden of making a return trip is often too great. The entire process is very hush-hush as most volunteers won't divulge any specific information regarding their project.
-JM
One of the many Cooperatives run by local women in Guatemala. This one is located in Nebaj and is supplied by the work of more than 30 local women. photo by SWArrogance and Eating-
One of the first things you realize traveling is that some well intentioned recommendations are simply ludicrous. Many of these revolve around food. Don't eat peeled fruit or cut vegetables, always drink with a straw and don't even think of partaking of the food from street vendors. If you succeed in this manner, congratulations, you've managed to travel without leaving home. People have actually suggested I bring a spray bottle of bleach to disinfect every meal.
Probably the most secure method of insuring your stomach's safety would be direct supervision. During each meal, stand in the kitchen and observe every sliced pineapples, cubed ice and uncooked vegetable that could potentially grace your mouth. If you don't wither away from malnutrition at least you'll have alienated the locals.
There are limits to this line of thinking though. After two months of relatively pain free eating I got nailed. I imagine all the amoebas swimming in the comfortable confines of my intestines finally decided it was time for a mutiny. Sick of my arrogant rantings, they fought, determined to purge every last gram of food. Successful, they moved on to my eyes next. Constant ripples of water swirled through my vision, the entire world covered in a glassy sheet of water. Fun for awhile but it soon became annoying. A side benefit, I now have a much keener appreciation for the ills of those who are truly sick.
photo by SWWithin 24 hours my body regained some semblance of control and we headed by to Xela. Fortunate for my still weakened body, riding a motorcycle does not require an overwhelming amount of energy.
Deciding that we needed to put our nice new dirt tires to the test we rode north to Nebaj. Another epic evening of rain riding, but I'll spare the details. Close to Nebaj in the Ixil Triangle lies numerous villages supported by the Agros Foundation. A Seattle based NPO, their mission is to help local families in Central America become land owners while creating a self sufficient community.
Speaking with several members of the villages it became apparent that the Agros Foundations´ efforts are highly appreciated. As we walked around the 93 acre plot the locals pointed out the farmland, houses and schools providing by the foundation. In heavily agro dependent countries such as Guatemala, owning land can be the difference between a future and a hopeless cycle of dependence on outside assistance. Beaming with pride as she gave us a tour of her home and garden I realized the simple importance of having a place to call your own.
-JM
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