San Marcos -- an example of REMHI Phase IV

By Dave Lindstrom - FHRG

Rodolfo Godinez, leader of the small REMHI team from the Catholic diocese of San Marcos, guides our two small vans up a steep, dusty, but reasonably well-maintained gravel road. The town of San Marcos is already a half a day's drive up into the mountains. We pass campesinos, carrying large loads of wood or even rocks down the mountain road -- the women carrying them on their heads, the men on their backs. As we travel higher, the gravel road gets narrower, and in more disrepair. As the sky becomes gray and overcast, we realize that we are in the clouds. Rodolfo points-out the families, including small children, who break-up rocks for different grades of gravel. They carry them down the mountain to sell below. "When land and work is hard to come by, you do what you have to do to survive," he says.

Our destination is the village of Sacuchun. This is one of the 30 parishes that the 3-person REMHI team has covered since the beginning of the REMHI project. The team doesn't have a car. As in our case, people from the parish volunteer to drive -- and help. "They are lucky to have a road," Rodolfo says. "The government started it many years ago, but has never finished it. The men from the village have completed it by hand -- with crude tools."

I ask Rodolfo if many of the villages have roads. "Not many," he replies. "We usually walk up the mountain on trails. It takes anywhere from 4 to 6 hours."

We finally arrive at a peaceful little village, with houses in small groups on both sides of a small valley. I imagine that they never see the sun there, living eternally in the clouds. We get out of our vans and head on foot to an open space -- a town square? -- between what appears to be a church and a few other municipal buildings. There are a few men standing around a pickup truck.

It is hard to imagine that this was the scene of a massacre by the Guatemalan army.

The massacre of Sacuchun

(Picture purposely defused)

A transcription of the testimony of one individual, which was collected by the team as part of REMHI Phase II, describes the history, context, details and names. It can be read on the Foundation For Human Rights in Guatemala Web Site: REMHI Testimony - Sacuchun Massacre.

More people from the village gather as one man tells us the story of the massacre. "…You see the tower in the church over there? The army captain went up there and spoke to us. They said that many of us were helping the guerrillas. They had us -- the whole town --come to this square, where you are standing," he says. "They had us form two lines. They brought us around, between those two buildings there. The school is behind there. They made it into a holding-place. Some of us went there. But many didn't get there. We didn't see where they took them. But we found them later…"

Through the man's story, and more that we were able to gather later, I begin to construct images of the massacre. On January 1, 1982, a huge number of army personnel quietly began to surround the entire village, blocking all the routes of escape. They gathered the entire community and spent the day checking id's and documents on each individual. Then they made everyone form lines. They took the suspected guerrilla sympathizers to a remote camp. Fourty-three people were taken that day, tortured and killed. Throughout the following week, a handful of others were also tortured and killed.

The man continues, "Some are buried over there…" Looking between the buildings, I can barely see a small graveyard across the valley. "Most were taken down the mountain and buried in the graveyard in San Marcos."

"You can see, we have nothing. Nothing!" The man speaking to us seems very agitated -- angry. The tone of his voice seems to communicate that he expects us to do something. I want to do something -- but I feel helpless.

Some older-appearing women and children have gathered. They are barefoot. The man asks one of them to tell us what happened.

As she talks, here voice quivers. She can't hold back tears -- but she methodically continues. Then another woman speaks -- and another. For me, the stories blur together. "I cry every day," she continues. "They took him. He didn't do anything, and they took him…."

As each woman speaks, others who had previously remained silent, seemed to find courage to speak. "…I have to work to raise my children. How can I feed them?…"

After the stories, the man describes life as they find it now. "It is very hard for us. Our water supply is contaminated. They [private companies?] took our land. We have been trying to get them [the government] to give us a new water supply. They keep promising, but they never respond." As he continues talking about their current daily hardships, I feel that he is expecting our group to do something.

The man thanks us for listening. "You are only the second group of [international] people to come here to listen to our story. A group from the United Nations came before. They promised to help us, but we have never heard from them."

We ask what role the Church, specifically the REMHI team, has played here. He replies, "The Church has been a great help, especially after the massacre. Many of our people found refuge in the Church. They have listened to our stories. They have helped us to talk about what we have experienced."

But even as he tells us about what a help the Church has been, he seems to be asking for help. "We want to build a monument here, to all the people who died," he explains. "But we don't have the money." He indicates that they have been waiting -- for what?, I wonder, thinking back to the men who carved a road out of a mountain side by hand.

We thank them for sharing their pain with us. Some of our group embrace the widows. We ask if it would be all right to take a few pictures. They say, Yes, and at least 10 cameras instantly appear. The children, and even the widows, are very fascinated as they see themselves in the image of a digital camera that one man in our group has.

Some of the men invite us to look at their school. We walk away from the buildings and take another way, climbing a steep bank, and squeezing between a fence." We built this ourselves," one man explains. He seems very proud of the school, which looks like 50 to 75 students could comfortably attend. "It took us several years." He goes on to explain that the army took the space during the massacre and used it as a sort of jail.

Having said our Goodbye's, we are mostly silent as we travel down the mountain. Rodolfo later takes us to the graveyard where most of those who were massacred are buried. We ask if the Church is going to allow them to be re-buried in their own village.

He answers, "After the massacre, we went and got the bodies and took them here. We would certainly be supportive of their taking them to be re-buried -- this would be a very important step in their dealing with the massacre. But we want them to make the effort." He goes on to explain that they have developed quite a "dependency" mentality, due in no small part, to the years of victimization. "They feel helpless. Some are afraid to come here, but many expect us to do it for them. Telling their stories is the first step. But they need to continue in their effort to overcome the pain. Wherever they make the effort, we are there to help and support them."

Read Transcription of REMHI Testimony - Sacuchun Massacre

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