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Santa Maria Dolores Village

After 6 hours hiking, the column finishes the 5 kilometer hike. World class runners need 14 minutes to travel this distance. After negotiation and discussion with local authorities the Santa Maria Dolores community agrees to let the procession pass the night. Distrust and fear reside in every community in the Ixcan. The war and military misinformation keep local populations in a state of fear and obeisance.

We spend a quiet and restful afternoon in Santa Maria Dolores. Paulino sleeps for three hours under a tree, eating and drinking a bit. Later he ambles to the river and bathes -- the river of life. Most every community in the Ixcan is near a river, to bathe, wash clothes, water crops, drink and play.

In the evening 10 men arrive, sweating and exhausted, from San Antonio. They hurried along tomorrow's trail, to warn us. San Antonio is a divided community, like so many in the Ixcan and throughout Guatemala. One part of the community is under the control of the PACs and the military commissioners. They are against the returnees -- seeing them as guerrillas coming to take their lands. The other part of the San Antonio community favors the return of the refugees. They know that the land originally belonged to the returnees and are willing to share it with them.

Divide and Conquer

A most successful political/military strategy of the Guatemalan Army in the 1980s was to pit poor against poor. San Antonio is a perfect example. After the scorched earth military tactics forced hundreds of thousands of predominantly Mayan Guatemalans to flee the army and government, then brought in other poor, landless Guatemalans to occupy, work and get provisional title to the "abandoned" lands. Now, the 1990s, as the returnees come home, from Mexico, the mountains, or the big cities, they find and sometimes come into conflict with Guatemalans, many now with strong ties to the army, who have poured sweat and tears into the land for ten years.

With the divisions set, and the dire and real needs of both groups of Guatemalan poor, the army, in some cases, sits back and offers to mediate these disputes.

The pro-return members of the San Antonio community tell us there has been violence in the San Antonio community over the past months as the PACs and members of the Association have rallied hundreds of club bearing people against the returnees. They tell us the San Antonio PACs recently constructed new outposts to further their control over their communities, and to prevent unwanted entries into their communities by people from outside. The returnees are enemies in their home land.

In Santa Maria Dolores, as night falls soft and grey, the pro-return San Antonio men tell us that their families will offer their homes and church for the returnees to sleep in. Tomorrow, when the returnees arrive, they explain, there will be 80 families there to meet and escort them into the town. This was not to be.

It is quiet in the night, in the cool of the Ixcan evening. The heat and pain of the days walk forgotten. All is soft. Rain clouds accumulate grey, black and billowing, rolling in from the Nebaj sierra to the south. We sit, watch, relax in the pre-storm swirling wind. Marvelous, I forget today and tomorrow. All around, a windy world of shades of green and grey. A good moment. All is simple here. All is very hard.

Wednesday, June 28, 9 am

We are three hours walk down the mud trail. More and more of the children smell of urine. They sometimes pee sitting atop their fathers backs. When walking, no one likes to stop -- the trail is narrow and everyone behind would have to stop. No one has a change of clothes. I'm exhausted and sweating like never before, like yesterday. In the shade, on fallen logs of an abandoned hut, I sit and rest, no energy to go back along the trail and help.

At this highest point of the trail in this part of the Ixcan, we have a 360 degree view of the jungle. To the south, the Nebaj sierra looms. To the north, the returnees see, for the first time in 14 years, their home, still a three hour mud and rock trail to go. Excitement and tension build, as the end draws near, knowing that guns and clubs may well be waiting.

Again, the accordion and guitar appear, music on a muddy trail in the hot Ixcan. Under the shade of the trees and plants, returnees sit, rest, play music and talk about San Antonio. Here, we wait an hour for the procession to catch up -- people at the end are far back, struggling. From here on the community will walk together, to arrive as one group. Only organized and together will they have any chance of getting home.

One more time everyone loads up their odd and heavy assortment of packs. Girls carry buckets with seedlings to be planted -- a new beginning. Every imaginable type of bag, pot, container is used to carry every imaginable type of thing you might possibly want or have. An incredible mosaic mishmash of people struggling against great odds.

The Standoff Begins

Not yet in sight of the entrance to the San Antonio community, a loudspeaker blares out: "Do not come any further. Our government has failed us and you. We know these are your lands, but .... Go back, we don't want refugees here. ... The Minister of Defense promised us on May 9 ...," and so on. We walk closer together, til we come in view of 15 men transmitting messages of rejection. The standoff begins.

The five international observers, we stand, midday in the jungle, shaded, with representatives of the returnees and San Antonio, witness to an impossible discussion: "We live here now." "These are our lands from before." "Well, go make a camp somewhere outside of our town ...." "But we have invitations and the right to come in and stay in San Antonio while we resolve our problems, and besides you people do not have to leave your lands."

The San Antonio returnees spend the afternoon setting up camp, under small trees, in the bushes, seeking any protection from the sun, and the rain that will come. They have no tents, no ground sheets, little of anything. But they have their determination, and they aren't going back along the trail -- where would they go?

Wednesday, June 26, 5 pm

As foreseen, the discussions went nowhere; the San Antonio Association people said a most definite no to allowing the returnees to enter into the town: "If you don't respect our words, then who knows what might happen later; it will be worse." In the afternoon we five observers walk alone one kilometer down to the edge of town to try and mediate.

The edge of town: a mud trail leading to a wooden foot bridge crossing a small river. Once 'in town' a mud trail leads up the hill to two PAC outposts, with men and boys armed with Army issued M-1 rifles. Around us are, hundreds of men and some women, armed with clubs and hatred. Not a promising situation.

San Antonio is a divided town. The Association people have guns and clubs, and links to the army. They run things their way. A hateful and loud argument is taking place all around us, between club bearing Association members and unarmed pro-return community members. The same issues as always are argued, not resolved.

For 20 minutes we discuss with them the possibility that the elderly, young and sick pass the night in town, out of the rain. No. No. No. Nothing but anger and rage. An Army Colonel is present. With three heavily armed soldiers, he has come to investigate the violence of the past days. He argues with the Association men as well. They are steadfast: "No, my Colonel, no."

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