Through four generations, so much love is sown and cultivated. In the mountains of Quiche, Guatemala.

Arriving at this place in the mountains of Quiche, I had to accept that I would not have access to my hot green tea at 10:00 am, that I would have to use latrines instead of flush toilets, and that to get from house to house, walking long and difficult paths would be the way, rather than the comfort of paved streets that I am used to. Visiting the Village of San Francisco in Chiché, Guatemala, just three hours from my house, meant going to a different place, less developed as they say, without many comforts, and without access to drinking water in the houses. Many of the adult inhabitants of this community did not finish primary school, most of the adult women are illiterate and can only express themselves in their mother tongue, the K’iche Mayan language. They speak Spanish, the official language of Guatemala, with difficulty. When they leave their village to go to the city, it is common for them to be considered inferior, ignorant, and even savage, not only because they don’t speak Spanish well, but also because of their appearance and their different ways of addressing people. This perception and treatment stems from the fear of what is different, by ignorance, by not knowing how to practice tolerance, by a lack of curiosity and empathy. These wonderful women carry great wisdom in their traditional clothing, whose symbols tell us about the Mayan worldview. And they themselves have abundant knowledge; they know the phases of the moon, the art of cultivating the land, they know compassion, parenting tenderly, they keep track of the threads in their weavings in an amazing way. They know how to connect with nature in their ceremonies, they practice respect for plants, trees and others. Their experience in the city reminds me of a line from the poem “Pueblera'' by Humberto Ak'abal:

“...you are alone, in the city your shadow is not seen, nobody knows your name.”

In their home of San Francisco, there is an abundance of love, a sense of community and responsibility for nature, all of which form part of a strong but subtle K’iche Maya identity. For centuries their ancestors have passed on the knowledge they received from their grandmothers. The Popol Wuj, where the mythology and history of the Mayan K’iche people are written, offers us a view of their conception of the world and of themselves. In the Popol Wuj, the common or the community is central:

“Let everyone get up

Let no one be left behind

Let us not be one or two

but all.”

Popol Wuj

Along with a group of people I have come to this place to evaluate the feasibility of a project they have requested support with - fulfilling their community objective of bringing drinking water to all families. We evaluate the technical feasibility of the project as well as the socio-economic conditions of the community. This part of my work is what I love. Even when it’s hard, it’s never laborious or difficult. Rather it is enjoyable and fills me with a sense of gratitude. Connecting with my Guatemalan Mayan brothers and sisters is a privilege and also a responsibility. It brings great responsibility because I am in a position of power where I need to process the information and recommend that an alliance be formed with the community to accompany them in their project of bringing water to each house. It’s a privilege because by connecting with them I learn about my own grandparents from another K’iche Mayan town. I was denied much of this learning when I was young because when my mom was a child she went to live in the city in search of opportunities, leaving not only her town, but also her way of life, her language and her Mayan clothing (an interesting story for another time.)

This family, like all the others, open the doors of their home to me and my team and share their stories and their difficulties related to water. But more importantly, they share their hospitality, cordiality, dignified treatment and a genuine willingness to connect with us as people, regardless of our differences. Upon our arrival, the mother is embroidering a traditional Mayan skirt that characterizes her community. This work is one of her ways of earning money for the family. The love between this family can be felt everywhere, it feels so strong as if it came from generation to generation, from time immemorial. They each have the noble and firm character of the trees that surround the house and you can breathe peace and harmony. Every day the younger women and children walk a total of two hours to bring water home. They also need to walk the same distance to do the laundry. A three hour drive from here, at my house, I can turn on the tap and most of the time, unaware of how lucky I am, I receive water that comes pumped from a deep well. What fortune I have every day!

Three years have passed since I took this photograph, and once again I was able to testify to the strength of community projects. They succeeded with the families of San Francisco working long days digging trenches for pipes, putting up money for materials and making decisions at community meetings. In January 2022 in San Francisco there was a party that lasted three days to celebrate that in each house there is a tap with drinking water. I could not attend the ceremony, not knowing that in spite of this I would still receive a noble lesson from the community. They sent me a handwoven bag to remember the celebration. I like to use it because it reminds me of people with a noble and firm character like trees, and I need such inspiration when I feel intimidated by wearing my Mayan clothing in the cities. Maltyox!