From West by Northwest.org Voices for the World Gloom in Guatemala: A Tale of the Blessed Rats and Death in Chiquimula By Jerry Gabay Feb 7, 2003 1/21/03 The last time I wrote was almost 2 months ago. Hard to know why. Perhaps some of the newness had worn off; perhaps some of the sadness had taken over. Perhaps it is sloth. Whatever, it is cloudy today; I have an hour before leaving to visit a friend from work at his house on the outskirts of Antigua, and if I don't start now, perhaps I won't again. But maybe it is not just as simple as that. I sat in bed this morning reading the summaries of a series of conferences in Central America on issues of Peace, Ecology and Theology. In fact, it is apparent that the real focus of the conferences is to generate an organized opposition to "neoliberalism" and the globalization which is neoliberalism's economic arm. (Or perhaps vice-versa.) I won't write more on that now, as I am leaving tomorrow to participate in the next round of this effort, in Guatemala City, and will know more later. But what struck me as I sat outside having breakfast with Susanna this morning is the contrast in Guatemala between what appears to be a striking reverence for other forms of life, and the simultaneous devaluing of human life. In the prior round of conferences, a Mayan elder told a story (apocryphal or not?) of a village where rats were ruining the maize crop. The leaders did not want to kill them, as all life has a right to exist and eat, so they captured a dozen of them and took them off to the priest to bless. Once the blessed rats were released in the area they had been taken from, all the rats ceased to eat the maize. This does conform with an earlier experience I had at the project, where a few of the employees were trying to take a large poisonous insect from where they found it in a passageway to release it unharmed in the grass. People here do appear to have a deep sympathy for the plight of others to live, even when it inconveniences them. Perhaps it all stems from the Mayan heritage most here share, at least to some degree. But contrast that with the plaintive message I received this week from my friend Nelson whose uncle had just been shot and killed in broad daylight at his store in a small town in the deserts of Chiquimula. Nelson said the exact same thing had happened to another uncle the year before, and his family is "destroyed." He can't see how he can live any longer in a country such as this is. In Guatemala City last year, an average of 10 people were murdered each day, year-round. Friends speak of hitchhikers who appear quite innocent in a land where few have vehicles, but who will assault and rob you if given the chance. Where is that respect for life otherwise indicated? Of course, it is possible that those people who respect it so much they would not harm a rat or giant wasp are not the same people who wantonly kill seemingly without plan or provocation; not the same as those who ripped fetuses from mother's stomachs during the government terror to use as soccer balls. But can the culture be so disassociated? Or can cultures so different exist side by side, regardless of ethnicity? I donít think there is an answer for this question--at least not one I will be able to fathom on my own. On a political level, I have come to think of the violence as an intentional policy of the government-military-drug complex to continue to keep people off balance and without the hope or will to organize. As an internationally excusable continuation of the terror of the armed conflict; as a politically acceptable cover, if you will. No matter how much one might struggle to improve one's situation, no matter how much one might study and save, no matter how high one might rise, there is almost an assurance of downfall caused by sources over which one has little if any control. You could think of it as Greek tragedy on a grand scale, minus the hubris. My friend Marco, intelligent, serious, thoughtful and capable--his pickup truck was stolen a few weeks ago from in front of the project (medical clinic) here in the middle of the day. There were people going in and out of the main gate, there was a guardian at the gate, the pickup was locked and had a "baston" on the steering wheel. How is it possible? However that may be, Marco just lost a vehicle worth between 1 and 2 years total salary. His wife must return to work just a few months after giving birth, and against her desires. The family cannot afford to visit his parents as planned at their small ranch in Chiquimula. A strong, handsome man, he is churning and defeated within. Or take the case of Gustavo, head of the medical services here. Medical doctor, masters in public health, very intelligent, dedicated to expanding outreach here to serve the real, deeper needs of the people, former employee of the Pan-American Health Org in Washington, DC. Three living children and a wife who works as a travel agent. But because salaries are so low here, half of their income came from a mini-van they owned, and used (with hired help) as a tourist bus. In November, it had an accident; was totaled, and a tourist died. When Gustavo went to make a claim with his insurance agent, he was told he was not covered. Apparently the policy was cancelled five months earlier, when the bank where the policy payments were being made failed to forward the payments to the insurance company. Gustavo had done everything right, paid as instructed, on time; the bank was failing and keeping the money; and the insurance company failed to notify Gustavo of anything. Yet he is out everything. He could sue, but the courts here are as corrupt as the rest of the government, and money rules. So just after Christmas, he and his family moved to a much smaller apartment, and he let the furniture company repossess the furniture they had just bought months before. He says things are bad in the country, but "es mi hogar" (it is my home). What to make of it? Is this by chance? Is this merely the unraveling of a society never held together by anything more than force and violence in the first place, as my friend Tani, a Guatemalan-American anthropologist suggests? Is this the blueprint for other countries, including our own, once the veneer of wealth evaporates from the dwindling middle classes? My 13 year-old daughter asks to be reassured that this is not so; that she can feel safe, at least in the United States. But the longer I stay here, the more I seem susceptible to such an Orwellian analysis. Jerry Gabay is a member of Eugene Meeting who is in Guatemala working at a medical clinic. See Jerry Gabay's first letter to WxNW.org at Political Realities: A Report from Rural Guatemala For another WxNW.org perspective on health care in Central American visit Mary Gallinger's A Limón Journey © Copyright 2000-2004 by West by Northwest.org