Sunday, January 09, 2005
Carlisle: Burn a gringo...
My friend Carlisle is a journalist with a morning English language program: Good Morning, Guatemala. It's on an ABC affiliate station called Emisoras Unidas, you can hear it at www.supercadena.com, online, 7a.m. - 8:30 a.m. Guate time, the same as US Mountain time.
I've known Carlisle for many years and so I appear on it periodically, usually covering my favorite topics; honey exports, CAFTA, or maquila. I'm going to add his account of an unusually difficult moment in his life to this post...just don't take this as the usual Guatemala bashing, we look at this a bit differently...like, better not be in the wrong place at the wrong time! Not here, not anywhere.
"On the afternoon of Friday January 7 I drove from Guatemala City to Jucanya, Solola, choosing the upland Pan American highway route in view of the recurring assaults on the shorter "old road" route. At the Km. 117 turnoff to Las Trampas, approximately 50 police officers in riot gear were milling about. I asked if something had happened and was informed "Not yet, it's the issue over the pasarela (pedestrian overpass)," and that there were "several thousand protesters at the mirador (scenic overlook)." As I proceeded to the overlook at Km. 121, I noticed that there were indigenous sentinels posted along the high (15-20 ft.) embankment flanking the highway which in that sector is largely a cut.
At Km. 121 I counted approximately 70 additional police officers, two PNC buses and a half dozen patrol cars. The police carried automatic weapons, and wore riot gear and bulletproof vests. There were (although this was about to change) only 40 indigenous people at the site, along with the lowboy trailer carrying the 17-ton tubular iron mill shell, stranded for the past several weeks with several tires flattened. I identified myself to the tactical commander, called Emisoras Unidas, put the newsroom in direct contact with the police chief, and decided to leave. At that time a noisy mob came streaming down the highway, around the corner to the overlook, and approached the police commander, who was literally at my elbow. A traje-clad woman (referred to as the alcadesa), was the first to speak, telling the police that she was there to uphold the rights of the indigenous of the region and that the police must leave.
She was relieved by the mayor of Solola, who gave a discourse alternating between "we are humble, followers from four departments who are protesting the passage of the mining equipment, and" the police and the mining companies are all-powerful". He stated that they were weary from two days of negotiations and of being told the same thing, or in effect nothing. He complained that they had been lied to by being told that the mining equipment was part of a bridge. He then stated, supported by the alcadesa that the presence of armed police was a provocation, and that the police were "requested" to leave. He immediately changed the demand to use the word "ordered" to leave, within 15-20 minutes. An impromptu interview (since there were no press there at the onset, I surmise that they had been waiting with the protesters for developments) with the mayor and alcaldesa ensued. I asked why if the mining equipment were destined for San Marcos it was a Solola issue, and he repeated a Guatemalan saying to the effect "San Marcos today, Solola tomorrow." I then asked if the police left, would the equipment be damaged? He replied to the effect that he hoped not, but of course he couldn't control the people (a recurring theme). My questions, his comments and other journalists' questions were recorded and videotaped. The only media I recognized were Guatevision and Noti Siete and that recognition was only via the logos on their (probably stringers') microphones.
While waiting for the police to contact headquarters, I detached myself from the several hundreds surrounding the mayor and the alcaldesa, and attempted to interview several men carrying the baston indicating they were mayors. After it became clear that they didn't speak Spanish, I thought it prudent to make a phone call to 1) inform an interested party that there was a risk of a serious incident and 2) make sure someone knew where I was. I spoke to her in English. This was a mistake.
I was immediately surrounded by a sub-mob of about 100 indigenous men, demanding to know why I was speaking a foreign language, and insisting that I must be calling police reinforcements. I was particularly aggressively accosted by an individual wearing a vest that said "prensa" who announced to the crowd that he knew Emisoras Unidas and that I was lying because there is no English language program on EU. I was clearly identified as press from EU and offered him my cell phone to call EU to verify my identity. At that point someone behind me said "Queme el gringo", another said "Tenemos gasolina", and a third, to widespread approval called out "Quemamos el gringo." At this point I decided to leave and had three alternatives. I could force my way through a crowd that had me hemmed in ten deep, call out to the police, who were some 30 meters distant, or take a third approach, which I did. I insisted firmly that I be taken to the mayor of Solola. Escorted there I told him that he knew I was a journalist, that I was charging him with my safety, and that the crowd had threatened to burn me. I asked him to ask the mob to permit me to leave. He spoke to the crowd in Kaqchikel. It parted, escorted me to my vehicle and surrounded the Explorer. I gingerly drove away, all the while expecting the vehicle to be struck with the staves and pieces of re-bar many men were carrying. It was about 3:35.
The road between Km. 121 and Los Encuentros, the site of the overpass at Km. 127 is strewn with chunks of concrete, downed trees and other detritus. Other claims to the contrary, I estimate that there were no more than 1200 protesters at the site and along the route, virtually all males.
(end of narrative)
Conclusions:
What happened to me is part of my job and I feel no particular ire or resentment at being detained and threatened. However, I think the incident underscores a conclusion that it is no longer safe for foreigners (or indeed Guatemalans) to move about in rural towns and areas in Solola and perhaps elsewhere. The detaining of a listener on a back road from Solola to Xela as reported on the air a few weeks, the detaining of the mountain-climbing group, and now this, seem to point to the need for a warning or perhaps a warden alert. The ordinary risks from bandits in Solola are now increased by risk of association with the mining issue, and anti-foreign sentiment may become manifest.
I am aware of the timing of plans to move the mining equipment to its San Marcos site, with promises from the government of military support. The prospect of attacks on a slow-moving lowboy carrying mining equipment approximately 160 kilometers through hostile territory may cause people to think twice about using the Pan American highway
I've known Carlisle for many years and so I appear on it periodically, usually covering my favorite topics; honey exports, CAFTA, or maquila. I'm going to add his account of an unusually difficult moment in his life to this post...just don't take this as the usual Guatemala bashing, we look at this a bit differently...like, better not be in the wrong place at the wrong time! Not here, not anywhere.
"On the afternoon of Friday January 7 I drove from Guatemala City to Jucanya, Solola, choosing the upland Pan American highway route in view of the recurring assaults on the shorter "old road" route. At the Km. 117 turnoff to Las Trampas, approximately 50 police officers in riot gear were milling about. I asked if something had happened and was informed "Not yet, it's the issue over the pasarela (pedestrian overpass)," and that there were "several thousand protesters at the mirador (scenic overlook)." As I proceeded to the overlook at Km. 121, I noticed that there were indigenous sentinels posted along the high (15-20 ft.) embankment flanking the highway which in that sector is largely a cut.
At Km. 121 I counted approximately 70 additional police officers, two PNC buses and a half dozen patrol cars. The police carried automatic weapons, and wore riot gear and bulletproof vests. There were (although this was about to change) only 40 indigenous people at the site, along with the lowboy trailer carrying the 17-ton tubular iron mill shell, stranded for the past several weeks with several tires flattened. I identified myself to the tactical commander, called Emisoras Unidas, put the newsroom in direct contact with the police chief, and decided to leave. At that time a noisy mob came streaming down the highway, around the corner to the overlook, and approached the police commander, who was literally at my elbow. A traje-clad woman (referred to as the alcadesa), was the first to speak, telling the police that she was there to uphold the rights of the indigenous of the region and that the police must leave.
She was relieved by the mayor of Solola, who gave a discourse alternating between "we are humble, followers from four departments who are protesting the passage of the mining equipment, and" the police and the mining companies are all-powerful". He stated that they were weary from two days of negotiations and of being told the same thing, or in effect nothing. He complained that they had been lied to by being told that the mining equipment was part of a bridge. He then stated, supported by the alcadesa that the presence of armed police was a provocation, and that the police were "requested" to leave. He immediately changed the demand to use the word "ordered" to leave, within 15-20 minutes. An impromptu interview (since there were no press there at the onset, I surmise that they had been waiting with the protesters for developments) with the mayor and alcaldesa ensued. I asked why if the mining equipment were destined for San Marcos it was a Solola issue, and he repeated a Guatemalan saying to the effect "San Marcos today, Solola tomorrow." I then asked if the police left, would the equipment be damaged? He replied to the effect that he hoped not, but of course he couldn't control the people (a recurring theme). My questions, his comments and other journalists' questions were recorded and videotaped. The only media I recognized were Guatevision and Noti Siete and that recognition was only via the logos on their (probably stringers') microphones.
While waiting for the police to contact headquarters, I detached myself from the several hundreds surrounding the mayor and the alcaldesa, and attempted to interview several men carrying the baston indicating they were mayors. After it became clear that they didn't speak Spanish, I thought it prudent to make a phone call to 1) inform an interested party that there was a risk of a serious incident and 2) make sure someone knew where I was. I spoke to her in English. This was a mistake.
I was immediately surrounded by a sub-mob of about 100 indigenous men, demanding to know why I was speaking a foreign language, and insisting that I must be calling police reinforcements. I was particularly aggressively accosted by an individual wearing a vest that said "prensa" who announced to the crowd that he knew Emisoras Unidas and that I was lying because there is no English language program on EU. I was clearly identified as press from EU and offered him my cell phone to call EU to verify my identity. At that point someone behind me said "Queme el gringo", another said "Tenemos gasolina", and a third, to widespread approval called out "Quemamos el gringo." At this point I decided to leave and had three alternatives. I could force my way through a crowd that had me hemmed in ten deep, call out to the police, who were some 30 meters distant, or take a third approach, which I did. I insisted firmly that I be taken to the mayor of Solola. Escorted there I told him that he knew I was a journalist, that I was charging him with my safety, and that the crowd had threatened to burn me. I asked him to ask the mob to permit me to leave. He spoke to the crowd in Kaqchikel. It parted, escorted me to my vehicle and surrounded the Explorer. I gingerly drove away, all the while expecting the vehicle to be struck with the staves and pieces of re-bar many men were carrying. It was about 3:35.
The road between Km. 121 and Los Encuentros, the site of the overpass at Km. 127 is strewn with chunks of concrete, downed trees and other detritus. Other claims to the contrary, I estimate that there were no more than 1200 protesters at the site and along the route, virtually all males.
(end of narrative)
Conclusions:
What happened to me is part of my job and I feel no particular ire or resentment at being detained and threatened. However, I think the incident underscores a conclusion that it is no longer safe for foreigners (or indeed Guatemalans) to move about in rural towns and areas in Solola and perhaps elsewhere. The detaining of a listener on a back road from Solola to Xela as reported on the air a few weeks, the detaining of the mountain-climbing group, and now this, seem to point to the need for a warning or perhaps a warden alert. The ordinary risks from bandits in Solola are now increased by risk of association with the mining issue, and anti-foreign sentiment may become manifest.
I am aware of the timing of plans to move the mining equipment to its San Marcos site, with promises from the government of military support. The prospect of attacks on a slow-moving lowboy carrying mining equipment approximately 160 kilometers through hostile territory may cause people to think twice about using the Pan American highway
