Holy Week in Guatemala 

The past week we traveled out to Chichicastenango and around Lago Atitlan. We left on the tails of our goodbyes to host families and the end of Spanish classes, so the week was a real change of pace. Throughout the week we saw examples of hope being held with pain, a contradiction that has commonly come up throughout the semester. 

In Chichicastenango, we visited an organization called Ruth and Noemi. The founder, Diego, explained to us that it began during the internal war after the area was bombed. Diego returned to Chichi after the bombings, once the military was allowing people in, and found that many of his friends had lost family members. The violence in the area combined with the disappearances by military forces had left many women as widowed single mothers. He saw an urgent need in his community and decided to go to Quetzaltenango, a nearby city, to find help. He returned with some bolts of string and a plan: if the women would weave using the string he brought them, he could take it and sell it for them. Slowly this plan came into action and more women joined in. It was and continues to be an avenue for women’s empowerment through economic independence. Now, Ruth and Noemi is connected with Ten Thousand Villages and involves over 30 families. The women of Ruth and Noemi are a remarkable example of resilience in the face of violence and adversity. In the wake of so much loss they found a way forward, together. 

Next, we took a boat ride over to Santiago, Atitlan where we spent two days with ANADESA. ANADESA is an organization that was born after Hurricane Stan brought devastating mudslides to Santiago that destroyed many homes and killed over 250 people. Women from the community of Panabaj came together to figure out how they would rebuild. The group helped many families relocate to the nearby neighborhood of Chuk Muk, and now continues projects of education and economic independence for women.

While in Santiago, we also visited the Peace Park which is situated beside ANADESA. A man named Juan came to talk with us about the park’s origins and significance. The peace park was built to memorialize and honor the lives of those who died in the fight to demilitarize Santiago, two of whom were his teenage students. After decades of military violence, a few soldiers drunkenly roamed the town wreaking havoc. This was the tipping point for Santiago. That same night, thousands of people gathered, armed themselves with white flags, and marched to the military base in protest. As they peacefully protested, the military opened fire. The massacre triggered a powerful mobilization of Santiago. The next day, over 30,000 people had thumb-print-signed a petition to remove the military. After two weeks of protest, the military left Santiago, making it the first area to be demilitarized during the internal war. As Juan explained this history, I was struck by his eagerness to share about this very painful part of his life. Towards the end, I asked him how he feels the community as a whole remembers this time. He immediately responded saying that the young people are not interested in our history, now money is the king that rules their lives. Looking at the Peace Park memorial that has been left unkept and run down, the truth of Juan’s words was clear. 

Guatemala has a complex history riddled with suffering, often at the hands of the US, and resilience. There have been so many efforts, like the Peace Park, to memorialize the harm that has been done. The following day we did an exercise in EMU class that personified truth, mercy, justice, and peace. Toward the end, we tried to decide where in the room each one would be to describe the current state of Guatemala. My first thought was to put truth front and center. We have learned about and visited so many projects that have brought the stories of what people endured during the war to light; the REMHI project, the Human Rights office, museums, documentaries, and memorials. As others weighed in, I began realizing my original stance was representative of the Guatemala I have seen in the last three months, not the true picture of Guatemala. The work of truth-telling has been done, but it is now sitting in the corner collecting dust. Juan’s words kept ringing through my ears as I thought about the importance of remembering. We cannot have peace without mercy to reconcile the harm, and we cannot have mercy unless justice is being actively worked towards, and we cannot have justice until the truth is seen and remembered. These four elements— justice, mercy, peace, and truth— must work in tandem because without all four present, none can properly be carried out. I left the session thinking about my role as a young person in these processes. The US has her own history of governmental oppression. How can I play my part in remembering and honoring the suffering and resilience in my own country’s past? 

We spent the next few days around Lago Atitlan where we visited and learned about the cooperatives they have in San Juan. The coops take advantage of tourism in the area by banding together and standardizing their services to give everyone enough business. To me, it seems like a genius way to allow for tourism to positively impact the local economy instead of the massive companies that take advantage of land and people to earn more money. 

We ended our week in Antigua, a notable destination to experience Holy Week. The small city was teaming with tourists and Catholics. The cobblestone streets were decorated with intricate “alfombra” designs made from flower petals and colorful sand. At all hours of the day and night, processions were being carried out. They often consisted of horses, men carrying 20-foot long wooden floats with various biblical scenes displayed on top, a band, women clearing the way for the float, or carrying lanterns. The processions would march right on top of the gorgeous sand and flower carpets and at the end of each one, a clean-up crew would shovel the trampled remains into a truck bed. Soon you would see a group assembling to build another carpet, a multi-hour long process. It was an incredibly coordinated operation requiring hundreds of people’s cooperation and organization.

Throughout the semester, we have attempted to tackle the theme of trauma and resilience, and this week was no different. There are times I’ve felt very pessimistic and leaned heavy on the dark realities we learn about, unable to see the ways there is also hope. At this point in the semester, however, it has become very clear that where there is pain and suffering, there is also hope and resilience, and that doesn’t need to be a contradiction. Somehow, we must find a way to hold both the pain and the joy, the suffering and the resilience, and the painful past with hope for the future. It is the only way we can sustainably and equitably move forward. 

–Maria Longenecker