Friday, June 22, 2007

"You have no god."

"I was sleeping when the attack on Disa started. I was taken away by attackers, they were all in uniforms. They took dozens of girls...during the day we were beaten and they were telling us: "You, the black women, we will exterminate you, you have no god." At night we were raped several times. The Arabs guarded us with arms and we were not given food for 3 days." --female refugee from Disa, West Darfur, as quoted in 2004 by Amnesty International



















S
ince the primary theme of my work here in Guatemala is the genocide that took place in the early 80s, I thought it only appropriate to keep some notes here on the genocide that's unfolding on our generation's watch...and most importantly, what we can do to avoid complicity.

We say never again. The phrase has become a brand rallying cry, characterizing the movement against genocide and repeatedly resulting in not much more than an empty promise. And today, a genocide is raging in Darfur, a marginalized Western region of Sudan. According to a recent Amnesty International report, some statistics on the growing crisis are as follows:
  • 2.2 million… number of refugees and people displaced by the conflict.
  • 285,000… estimated number of deaths from starvation, disease and killings in Darfur since 2003.
  • 7,000… number of African Union monitors deployed in Darfur.
  • 13… number of UN Security Council resolutions adopted on Darfur.
  • Zero… number of United Nations peacekeepers deployed in Darfur.
While news coverage, rhetoric and even some policy moves from the global north have far exceeded levels of these indicators during genocides of the past, there is still little being done to effectively stop the current and ongoing devastation.

At it's most genuine, "Never Again" it is a show of solidarity; a sorrowful conviction that what has passed in Rwanda, Cambodia, and many other countries were acts of utter inhumanity. Although we have come a long way in the recognition and denouncement of genocide, outcries of Never Again have proved futile. Darfur is an ongoing reminder of that, and we would do well to heed it. It's important to fight to keep from ignoring the atrocities being committed there; because somehow, apparently, genocide is a very easy thing to ignore.

“Race murder,” as genocide has been called (see Samantha Power's A Problem from Hell), may be one of the most difficult concepts for us to fathom as reality. But the incomprehensible nature of a truth like genocide does not absolve us from recognizing that not only is it going on, but it may well also continue. Daily events that take place in Darfur and that occurred years ago in Treblinka, Poland; Quiché, Guatemala; Kigali, Rwanda; and Srebrenica, Bosnia among others will take place again somewhere not yet known. That is unless we face the reality of genocide, struggle with it, and finally, come up with the conviction to create the intellectual and practical machinery to prevent it.

There's plenty of reading to be done to sort out the particulars of the violence in Darfur--scholar Gérard Prunier calls it "the ambigious genocide" in part because of just how complex the antecedents, ethnic lines, and characterization of victims and perpetrators are. We ought not to call it simply one side systematically devastating another; however, nor should we stall any longer chalking up the violence to overcomplicated ethnic warfare founded in too-deeply-rooted historic background. (On this note, for a really interesting and well-written take on humanitarian intervention [relating to Iraq and the Balkans but nevertheless revelant] check out this article from The New York Times by Roger Cohen.) Below are some links that help clarify the history and debate, along with some powerful visuals to make the events real in our minds.

Perhaps more surprisingly, another thing that there is plenty of are ways to act--on individual and collective levels--to start sending a signal that the violence calculated and committed by Sudanese government forces must stop. The links below are also where you can find a range of options for action from divestment to letter-writing to awareness campaigns.

Suggested methods of action may sound like just making noise, but making noise is one thing that needs to happen--stopping genocide is a task that's neither easy nor cheap, so if politicians have no reason to believe we care, they certainly won't make efforts to end the crisis.

Cali to Guate

















"Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again;
we had longer ways to go.
But no matter, the road is life."
- Jack Kerouac

I have to apologize for taking a holiday from the blogging. There’s much to say about the past few weeks, so I’ll try to catch us all up as best I can.

First and foremost, my wonderful parents made the trip down to Guatemala for a visit and we had a blast for two weeks of gallivanting around the country. We started with a short flight from the capital up to the department of Peten, host to Tikal National Park, and the largest Mayan ruins discovered to date.

Tikal was incredible, as much for its lack of people and amusement park-like accoutrement as for its historical and cultural impressiveness. We had the park virtually to ourselves, 23 square miles of ruins, hiking trails, and jungle wildlife.

View from atop a Temple IV



A near-perfect rendition of my parents on vacation--in this particular moment we had spotted a toucan nest with babies and a proud mama in a hole in the trunk of a tree near the temples



The Grand Plaza...

After flying back south from the Peten jungle, we spent three days in Antigua, the old capital. I've had mixed feelings about the little town ever since I got down here--Semana Santa (see previous post) was incredible, but generally when I'm there, between enjoying the relief of safety and its colorful cuteness, I spend a lot of time resenting the too-touristy bustle of vendors and myriad bars that make you wonder if you just tripped onto a college campus in the states. However, much to my delight, fully embracing the tourist persona makes Antigua a total joy. If you have plans to visit (and aren't on a backpacker's hostel-ready budget) treat yourself and stay at the Cloister. I'm not one to care where I crash while traveling, but I swear, this place is a total dream. It's a small B&B ideally located under the landmark yellow archway a block from the central plaza, complete with a gorgeous garden courtyard, wonderful staff, flawlessly outfitted rooms, and delicious food. I hate to get Lonely Planet on you here (or worse but perhaps more fitting, Travel and Leisure) but really, this hotel was heavenly. Besides thoroughly enjoying our accomodations, activities included textile shopping, climbing active volcano Pacaya (my parents are so cool), and strolling the cobblestone streets to pop in and out of art galleries, very old churches, and european style sidewalk cafes.

Dad braves the volcano

Finally, we made our way to Lake Atitlan, which has quickly become one of my favorite locations on Earth (of those few that I've seen so far), no kidding. Tzutijil Maya, an indigenous group that live largely in the Atitlan area call it the Mother Lake, the world's umbilicus, the center and life source of the earth.

The lake’s periphery is decorated by volcanoes and villages, each of the latter with its own characteristics, many with varying indigenous influences. We stayed at my favorite spot in the village of San Marcos de la Laguna. San Marcos is a beautiful underdeveloped haven right on the shore, littered with organic vegetable gardens, yoga/massage studios and even an authentic Buddhist temple for meditation. When it comes to pace of life it has a lethal (or heavenly, depending on what you’re looking for in a vacation) combination of hippie chillax with classic ‘Guatemalan time’ (ie. everything gets going at least an hour later than planned). Anecdote: we were headed for dinner one night to find that the restaurant we had picked out was closed. As we turned around to walk back in search of alternatives, an elderly Keqchikel Maya woman comes running toward us, “No, no se van! Ya estamos abierta, pase adelante!” (Don’t leave! We’re open, please, come in, welcome!) She wouldn’t take no for an answer even though the place was clearly shut down, proceeded to unlock the doors, turn on the lights, fire up the stove, and cook us a delicious meal while we sat waiting.

Markets in Guatemala are not few nor far between and beautiful handmade textiles-for-sale abound wherever you go. Yet, everyone (gringos and Guatemalans, market enthusiasts and critics alike) says Chichicastenango, Guatemala's most famous market, is truly unique and a must-see, so we fit it in during out time at the lake. It didn't disappoint--a bustling, chaotic, colorful vibrant maze of stalls, Chichi overflows with tapestries, fruits, vegetables, livestock, and flowers; hustlers hollering, infants crying, musical instruments playing; and the strong, distinct scent of market—anyone who’s spent time in Latin America knows what I’m talking about—it’s a mix of raw meat, herbs, tallow candles and corn tortillas on the griddle.

Super-colorful Chichi...

We then moved on to a new hotel in a village down the shore from San Marcos, a place called Casa del Mundo--also raved about, also whose praise is very well-founded. It's a hotel built right into the cliffs with clear views of various volcanoes and other villages on opposite sides of the lake. Swimming and hiking here turn from common activities to ethereal experiences, and the views from the rooms are spectacular. So ended a great trip--a much needed dose of home for me, and a welcome encounter with some little-known gems of central america for my parents.

Lake Atitlan from Casa del Mundo...

One last note: thanks mom and dad, what a wonderful two weeks--you guys are the best.