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The Mayan Identity Crisis |
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Macaria Tomasa insists she doesn't speak Mayan.
"Sólo Español," she says. Only Spanish. That's surprising here in this highland community called Chiabal where nearly everyone is of Mayan descent. Seated next to her in this sewing class is Eulalia Ramos, who adds that she doesn't consider herself Mayan. Macaria and Eulalia are learning to use a one-stitch sewing machine. They are taking part in an international development project designed to eliminate the extreme poverty that characterizes this part of northwestern Guatemala. It's possible these two women didn't understand my question about their background, since they are of Mam origin, one of Guatemala's ethnic Mayan groups. But Edgar Pineda, a Guatemalan staff member of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), believes their denial of their Mayan heritage may also be explained by centuries of racism and discrimination against Guatemala's indigenous majority. |
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"Historically these people were marginalized," explains Pineda.
One of the provisions of the peace accords signed in December 1996 was to promote indigenous rights and identity and to incorporate the indigenous majority into the process of reforming Guatemalan society. There appears to be a good faith effort so far on the part of the Guatemalan government to carry out the accords. However, changing the mentality on both sides of the rift is a long-term process. Education at a young age is essential. According to María Olga de Pérez of UNDP's Guatemala office, the education sector began examining inequities in the system over a decade ago, and education reforms grew along with the peace process. One of the goals for the indigenous population is bilingual education in Spanish and their own languages. But, Peréz says, "it's difficult, and there have been setbacks because there are not enough teachers and because materials are not available in all twenty-one indigenous languages." |
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Further down the mountain from Chiabal, where neither Macaria Tomasa nor Eulalia Ramos had the
benefit of this education program, is a three-year-old school in Chirijquiac. These children, aged
five to fifteen, are learning to be proud of their heritage, says a member of the parents' committee
which runs the school. Inside the classroom the teacher conducts a lesson about lines and shapes in
Spanish and then Quiche, the local language.
Next door a class of teenagers invites us in to hear them sing Guatemala's national anthem in Quiche. They manage to sing the first few verses which are written down, but falter toward the end. Then they ask us to stay, so they can sing the entire anthem again, flawlessly and entirely from memory. But this time they sing in Spanish.
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