In March 1980, photographer Ian Dryden and I traveled to Mexico’s Lacandón rainforest. We worked for the San Diego Union and were in search of Guatemalan Mayan people rumored to have fled genocidal violence and found rough shelter in the remote forest. After days of chasing leads, we found the refugees. The excerpt from my book below reminds us that today’s flood of Central American refugees has been with us for more than 40 years. What follows was originally written for the Union.
Even a casual conversation with the refugees, Mayans from the northern departments of El Quiché and Huehuetenango, elicits talk of a horrifying, unexpected death at the hands of Guatemalan troops.
Refugees from places near Mexico, such as La Unión, Santo Tomás, pueblo Nuevo, Ixtlahuacán, Los Angeles, Mayarán and Kaibil tell of a military campaign
started last year and continuing today aimed at wiping them out.
“I guess the government doesn’t want any more Indian race,” said one refugee.
Rodríguez carefully pulled a color photo from a nylon bag. In the photo, he stands smiling, wearing an orange T-shirt, his arms folded across his chest.
Children of all ages—his children—and his wife crowd around him.
When the soldiers came to Santa María two months ago, Rodríguez and most of his children were away working on a farm. But the soldiers found his
wife and several of the children.
“My wife here, they shot her in the back twice when she tried to run away,” he said, pointing to a plump,
dark woman. Two of his daughters, one seven, the other five, wear green dresses in the photo.
“The little one,” he said, pointing to the smaller girl, “they shot her right here,” said Rodríguez, his finger resting just below his left eye. “All of this,” he continued, his right palm cupping the back of his skull, “got blown away. My other little one, they beheaded her.”
Rodríguez and two other men offered to guide us to one of the villages that had been attacked. They assured us we would
find human remains, proof of the army’s savagery. Ian and I agreed that venturing into Guatemala with killer soldiers on
the loose was far too risky. We declined the offer.
Some forty percent of Guatemalans are Mayans, and the other sixty percent are mestizos. As a mestizo, I am more than one-third of indigenous stock. That one-third is comprised of Mayan, Mixe of Oaxaca and pima of Chihuahua and Arizona. For most of my life, I have felt a bond with native people. It’s literally in my DNA. I felt a powerful connection with the refugees. The horrific nature of the stories overwhelmed me. How could such a widespread genocide continue without the outside world’s knowledge?
Link to the book: https://www.amazon.com/We-Were-Always-Here-Americans/dp/1558859136
Ricardo Chavira Chicano 