Ghosts, memories, testimonies

There are places where the past is no more past than the lingering smell of this morning´s meal. Places where things live on, perhaps not in action, perhaps not materially, but they live on nonetheless, an everpresent reminder in a people´s psyche.

´La Violencia´. This is what the time of the civil war is called here- ´The Violence´. A time of untold horror, a time of unspeakable cruelty, a time of countless atrocities and acts so inhumane it seems unfathomable that they could be carried out by people. Sons. Fathers. Uncles. There are many stories from this time, testimonies only now beginning to be told, only now coming into light, after so many years of forced silence. They weave together to form a tapestry of, at once, the resilience of the human condition, and of the horrors that man can commit. There are many, many stories from this time. Today I had the opportunity to hear one such story.

Her name is Chona. She has worked at the mission for the past 42 years, primarily as a cook, though during ´La Violencia´, her role was much more. Here is her story.

The story of our life here is very hard- 1980, ´81 and ´82 were very difficult years. I am the mother of four, and during the time of ´La Violencia´, we here in the parish worked on behalf of the suffering people in our community- you see, lots of people here had problems either because of the military or because of the guerillas. The guerillas would come and offer the Mayans lots of incentives to join: more land, money, anything to get them to join. During this time, there was much violence at the hands of both, and one had to be completely neutral: if you were to help one person on one side, the other side would come after you and your family.

Before the peace accords in 1996, we were not allowed to talk about ´La Violencia´; it was too dangerous. Though there was violence everywhere, we here in the highlands were hit the hardest by the military forces.

It is very hard for me to talk about this. I lost my husband to the military, and when I am telling the story I relive the moment. I know I am not the only one who suffered, there were many. I know people whose parents were killed in front of them; whose children were killed in front of them.

I didn´t see my husband murdered. He worked on a land redistribution project, so for his work, the military accused him of being a guerilla. At this time you couldn´t do anything to help the people; by helping others you were accused of being a guerilla. One day, my husband was working with some final paperwork on a project, and went to meet with some lawyers in Sololá. He never returned. We were told that he was taken by the military- dissapeared. 28 years ago this happened. We were never told any more.

Still, it feels like yesterday. The pain I remember the most is trying to take care of my children; night after night staying at different houses for fear that the military would come and kill me and my children in the night. I had to fight hard for my children and I prayed hard for the strength to help others.

In 1982 I had to help a group of children. I knew that the military was on their trail, looking for them and would certainly kill them.

Only Father Greg and I knew the movements of the guerillas and the military. We could tell no one and we worked together many times to save others.

One day, a priest in the Quiché region called Father Greg asking for his help, saying there was a group of children who neede to be saved. Their parents were killed right in front of them, and by the grace of God, somehow they escaped and survived. The military knew that they had witnessed the murders and so they were looking for them to kill them as well, to leave no trail, no witnesses.

So the priest asked Father Greg to help get them and bring them to a local orphanage. All in all, there were eleven kids from two families, the youngest were one year and a year and a half.

¨How do we get them out?¨ Father Greg asked me. ¨If the military finds out, they´ll kill us all. But, if we do nothing, they´ll kill the children. How are we going to get them out?¨

I told him ¨Look for a car and a driver and I will go get them myself.¨ So we got a car and a driver and we went to Quiché. There were three military checkpoints along the way. I went with a letter for the priest from Father Greg saying that I was coming to get the kids. I was so scared and worried about what would happen if we were caught. I told the priest to tell the children that if the military asked, that I was their mother. Only, I was scared because I was only 30 at the time, and there were 11 kids. They´ll never believe me.

The priest said that he would pray for us. I told the kids- tell them I am your mother and that we were coming to visit family in Quiché, but that you are from San Lucas Tolíman. So, we left and the kids were very sad to leave their family, their home, all that they knew. It still hurts my heart to think of them. I remember the eldest child hiding the suitcases of their few belongings under the seat, so as to not upset the other children.

At the first military checkpoint, everyone was scared, shaking and crying. I told the children ¨Don´t worry, calm down, the military will want to talk to me not you, we´ll be fine. But, if they see you crying, they´ll never believe us and they´ll kill us all.¨ The officer stopped us asking what I was doing here with all these kids. I told him that I was their mother and we were coming back from visiting family in Quiché. Another officer told him to take us all out of the car to question us, but by luck, the first officer said, ´no just check around the perimeter of the car for weapons.´ And they let us go.

At the second military checkpoint, again all the children were scared and crying. I thought ahead of time to bring candy, and I gave each of them a piece of candy, so they would be distracted when we got to the checkpoint. Again, an officer asked ¨Where are you taking all these kids?¨ Again, I told him, I am their mother and we are coming back from visiting family in Quiché. I felt bad because the eldest children were holding the younger ones as I was talking to the military, because they were still scared of me because I was a stranger. And thank God, once again, they only checked the outside of the car before letting us go.

At the third military checkpoint, the kids were again scared and crying. I told them this time ¨Let´s pray together¨ so that when the military came, they would see that we were praying. Again, an officer approached the car and asked ¨Who are you? Where are you going with all these kids?¨ I told him that I was their mother and that we were from San Lucas Tolíman, just coming back from visiting family in Quiché. The officer yelled to the others ¨Take them out of the car.¨ Another officer said ¨No, they´re kids, they don´t have weapons, they´re fine, leave them.¨ By the grace of God, they let us go.

When we were finally just outside San Lucas Tolíman, I turned to the children and told them we have arrived, thank God, we are saved, we are free. You´ll have a home, Father Greg will take care of you and no one will come after you in the night. You can laugh, you can cry, because thank God, you are safe, you are free.

Three of the children stayed in town and are now married with children. For christmas every year, there is a tradition of eating tamales and bread, and they brought me these telling me ¨Thank you, you are our mother.¨

From that time, Father Greg and I helped many people with problems with the military and guerillas. We helped children, families, and the religious as well because at this time many religious were being killed. And to help all of these people, we were accused of being guerrillas by the government. We recieved a letter from the military saying that they were going to kill us for this work we were doing, so we were forced to flee to the United States for five months.

When we returned, I took up my work helping the widows, and I still help sell their weavings and crafts, to help them support their families.

This is my story. There are many others. Thank you and God bless you all.