The land title offices were closed the day the Spanish conquerors arrived in Guatemala 500 years ago, which begins the reason for why I am here learning the things I'm learning and seeing the things I'm seeing. Things are pretty complicated. And on the other hand, things are painfully simple.

Yesterday we drove 6+ hours out to El Estor in the department of Izabal, on the north shore of Lake Izabal. We passed miles and miles (and miles) of what used to be United Fruit Company land as far as the eye can see. We began to get hotter and hotter as we whirled along the Atlantic highway out toward Guatemala's few miles of Caribbean coast. At night we had a chat with a local American Catholic priest who has been here for 27 years. He shared a lot about the history of this land.

This morning we woke up early (although it's so darn hot ya might as well just wake up) and had a plate of beans and eggs and climbed into a pick up to go out and visit some rural communities.

We passed the mining project and viewed the endless land that "belongs to the mining company" and also the communities which have been evicted, burned down, then rebuilt. Like Barrio Union in the video below in my last post. Then up into the mountain to visit a settlement called "Lote 8" (Lot 8) which consists of 100 families who were forcibly evicted off their land 2 years ago.

There is more to say, endless thoughts and words, but the internet is unreliable here and I'm tired. But I feel like something has to be said today because:

1. I saw a smile today that just kicked tears out of my eyes. As we rolled up into the mountain, where the picture below was taken, I was standing at the back end of the pickup facing backward looking over the road we had just bounced over when I saw a man hidden under a small bushes lining the road. His face was hidden by the shade of his big brimmed hat and he held a machete, but I saw, through the shadow of his face, a big toothy white smile. I realize I don't think many people think I'm an overly emotional person, a toughy some might say, plus my natural demeanor and some tattoos, but there is one thing, one place that makes mush out of me and that is Guatemala.

2. I sat in a palm thatched hut and listening to the mother and brother of a man killed not long ago in the community as a result of tension from the mining. I listened to them rage in their native tongue of Q'eqchi and then cry, together and in unison while his baby daughter dangled in the arms of her mother, the widow.

3. I met a man named Reginaldo who showed us the bullet hole in his cowboy hat. He was in a micro bus that was attacked in September of 2009 related to the mining company. There are many problems, speculations, doubts, bullet holes from this incident which deserves more explanation than what I'm capable of right now. Reginaldo's bag is pictured below. I got a big kick out of him. As we sat in the afternoon side by side on a bench he crumpled up a Squirt can, then looked over at me and Pilsbury doughboy-ed a tattoo on my arm, then resumed the can crumpling. At 65 years old he's stronger than I will probably ever be.

3a. The first time they were evicted 600+ police, military, and private security from the mining company arrived at 4pm in the afternoon. They burned down all the huts, even ate and took some of their food. They sprayed the villagers with tear gas and bullets. The second time, some 10 days later, 600+ of the same troops arrived and did the same thing. But this time their homes were made of tarp, and those who had some money had a roof of tin. The police and soldiers burned the tarp shelters and hauled the tin away. People ran off into the trees and returned after the police had left and slept outside in the rain and wind. This is because the people do not have a "title" to their land. They have no way to "prove" they have lived there forever. The deals made in Guatemala City with northern (US & Canada) mining companies do not consider the people who have lived their for centuries. They simply must be removed because it "belongs to the mining company." I know this may sound overly simplistic, but in many ways it is simple. The companies consider them "squatters" but they are historical settlements. However, some years back they discovered the mountains were rich with nickel.

4. I stood among the men of Lote 8 who survived 2 violent evictions of their land. Land of which they have no "title" to but theirs nonetheless. Theirs for being there for 52 years, before the mining companies came, theirs for being Guatemalan, not American or Canadian. During our meeting in which they told their story and we basically stood their listening and expressing solidarity, the whole conversation was translated from Q'eqchi to Spanish then to English and back again. As I mentioned, some of my fellow travel mates do not speak or understand too much Spanish. And all of our Q'eqchi is pretty rusty these days. But seriously, ok, the men of Lote 8 broke into prayer at the end of the meeting. 60 voices in Q'eqchi praying for us, for the trees, for their ancestors, for their children, for the sun, for tomorrow, for Americans, for everything important to them in those moments. It was unlike anything I have ever heard. Something forever in my memory but impossible to explain.

5. The men of Lote 8 wanted us to walk to their new settlement, about an hour on foot. There are no roads there, no electricity. But we could not because of time. The men did not understand much Spanish, they are farmers. There was no trash anywhere. There are no tiendas. Everything they eat, live in, do, comes from the Earth. All they want is land to live on. Land the Maya people were first to live on. But as I am learning and remembering and understanding, it is not that simple yet, like I said, so very simple. Land. A place to live. A place to grow some corn, beans and whatever else floats your boat. But here, it is too much to ask.

The road up to Lote 8 and 9

Reginaldo's "moral" (bag)

The men of Lote 8

The chatty Kathy I am in Spanish allowed me to strike up a convo with Emilio, a man from Lote 8. I asked him why his hand was bandaged and he showed me this. For 2 months it has been like this, even more swollen for the first 6 weeks or so. He speculated someone put a spell on him.