Vuelta de Guatemala By Cris and Tyler

Tomorrow, February 12^th marks exactly two months since my Dad arrived to Guatemala (and two days from which he returns to the States). During his time here, my Dad has been staying at his favored place downtown, Casa Mercedes, just one block from his school, Celas Maya. http://www.celasmaya.edu.gt/ My Dad has enjoyed his stay in Xela so much that he plans on flying south again next winter.

The first two weeks of my Dad’s stay in Guatemala began with a vuelta (or trip) de Guatemala and Honduras. After waiting for what Tyler called my Dad’s “adventure travel gear” to arrive from its three-day layover in Houston and for Tyler and I to renew our 3 month visas at immigration in Guatemala City,we hopped on a mini-van for a bumpy, five-hour ride to Copán, Honduras. As a result, my Dad was quickly “broken in” to the luxuries of traveling by crowded private (or public) transportation in Guatemala. The border crossing from Guatemala to Honduras was uneventful and simply required a small payment of 10 quetzales (about $1.30). (The Central America Four agreement allows one to travel across the borders of Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and El Salvador without a visa for each country. This is, of course, very convenient for those travelers just passing through. However, now that Tyler and I have already renewed our visa once in Guatemala City, we’ll be required to head to Mexico or Costa Rica to renew our visas again in March, since the above agreement does not allow for visa renewals within the Central American Four.) The bruises from our sardine can-ride were quickly forgotten as 15 minutes just past the Honduran border we were met by the very friendly people of the small town Copán Ruinas. We were immediately charmed by the smiling faces of young kids; the cobblestone streets; impressive, tropical plants; red-tiled roofs; absence of trash; and excellent food. We immediately decided we’d be staying longer than we had originally planned, just as our guidebook warned might happen.

The small town of Copán Ruinas is located just a mile from the archeological site of Copán. This “southernmost center of Maya civilization” (Rough Guide to Guatemala) was just a short, pleasant walk down a country road. Upon arriving, we hired a knowledgeable guide to show us around the central part of the massive, 24-square kilometer site. This was the 8^th abandoned Mayan city that Tyler has visited, and while the architecture, symbolism and ornamentation have become familiar, Tyler states it has never gotten dull.

We learned that Copán’s location in a long broad valley made it quite suitable as a site to build a city. The small river running through the valley floods during the rainy season and brings nutrients to the flat valley floor, perfect for growing crops. Also, the two nearby outcroppings of stone in the surrounding hills made for excellent quarries. Sometime around 100 AD construction at Copán began, only later to be abandoned in the 9^th century AD. The best guesses as to why the Maya abandoned the city include over development, over-exploitation of resources, and war. (Again, another opportunity for us to learn from history.) If you’re in the neighborhood, Copán is not to be missed.

After our two-day stay in Copan, we returned to Guatemala and headed for the Caribbean Coast. We arrived to the ugly industrial port of Puerto Barrios, the main port from which the United Fruit Company (now Chiquita Banana) exported its goods to the U.S. and the rest of the world. We only stayed in Puerto Barrios long enough for my Dad to use the restroom at the brothel I accidentally escorted him to and to take the 30 minute ferry ride to Livingston, a coastal town only accessible by boat.

Livingston (population 6,000) is an interesting little town on the Caribbean coast at the mouth of the Río Dulce. As there are no roads connecting Livingston to the rest of the country, all goods must be brought into town in small boats. Unlike Puerto Barrios, there are only low docks that do not allow for large, industrial deliveries. Although there is a minimal road system in the town itself, there is very little motor traffic. A taxi driver told us that there are 80 registered cars in Livingston, as 80 was the limit of car permits the city allows. Pedestrians and bicycles rule the road here. This was definitely our kind of town.

Livingston’s isolated location probably allowed the distinct Garifuna culture of the town to thrive despite being surrounded by the dominant Guatemalan culture. The Garifuna have much more in common with Belize and the Caribbean Islands than with Guatemala. The Garifuna are ethnically a mix of African, Carib, and Arawak peoples and their language is today a mix of Arawak, Carib, French, English and Spanish. The Garifuna men and women use distinct dialects of the same language, which may be a result of pre-Columbian ethnic wars in which the males of the losing side were dispatched and the women were taken as captives and later companions by the victors.

The obvious cultural differences that you see walking around town are the slower pace of life and the music. Reggae, punta, and soka music displace synthesized merengue and traditional marimba ensembles that are ubiquitous in the rest of Guatemala. The main tourist activities in town are eating and chilling out.

While in Livingston, we stayed at a small resort on the sea a couple of kilometers north of town. We took a taxi about three miles from the dock where we arrived to the edge of downtown where the road ends. From there, we walked about a mile along the beach to get to our resort. The resort was composed of a group of several cabins made from lath walls and palm roofs, with a central large open palm roof structure that served as a restaurant and dining room. The first night we unsuccessfully slept through a major offensive launched by the local mosquitoes; however, the second night our mosquito nets acquired from the resort’s caretaker foiled these menaces’ blood-thirsty plans.

Our first day on the beach we spent listening to the rain pound the palm roof of our cabaña, which deafened the sound of the Caribbean Sea lapping on shore just 20 feet in front of us. The following day the clouds broke, the sun filled the sky, and we hiked north along the beach to Siete Altares (Seven Altars). Siete Altares aptly describes a nearby river that runs out over smoothed, limestone rocks, turning into a series of waterfalls and shallow pools. It was a treacherous hike for Tyler as he was barefoot, but even he agreed the gain was worth the pain as you can see from the photos. There were orchids growing on everything and the river was crystal clear.

As the three of us walked there from our resort, we avoided the crowds that often arrive to Siete Altares by boat together from downtown Livingston. Will, a local who had just moved back from New York, taught us how to climb up the face of the waterfall so we could jump off into its deep, pleasant pool. On our way back from Siete Altares, some of the local Maya kids spotted our camera and asked us to take their pictures.



Obviously they have learned from previous tourists that if they stand long enough to pose, they will be awarded with a glimpse of themselves on the playback screen of the digital cameras. I did, however, have to draw a line in the sand to prevent the kids from continually moving too close to the camera’s lens. J I learned this trick from our friends Mark and Bev with whom I sailed to Tonga where we also met enthusiastic local subjects.

In the evening, as the temperature inside our cabaña rose, Tyler and I took our pillows and sheets outside, set up a couple of the resort lounge chairs on the water’s edge and went to sleep to the gentle rolling of the shore onto the beach. We moved back in to our cabaña only as the rain of the days before returned.

The next day we arranged for a boat-taxi to take us from our cabin on the sea back to Livingston. As we were in a very remote location and had spent our last quetzales on breakfast, we notified our “lanchero” that we would have to pay him for the boat ride once we arrived back into town and could get some more money. Once back in Livingston, we learned that there was no cash in either of the two ATMs, that they weren’t expecting any more cash for a couple of days, and our credit cards were useless at the banks but could be used at some restaurants to buy lunch.

As we wondering how we were going to pay the lanchero, Carlos, the Argentinian owner of the jungle eco-resort Finca Tatín, the next resort where we would stay, pulled up to the dock. As he was there to retrieve us, we explained to him our situation, and he quickly lent us the money to pay the lanchero and to get a cup of coffee while he did some grocery shopping before returning to the finca.

Having paid our debt and filled up the small boat with provisions, we all climbed in and turned south up the Río Dulce. Although it began to rain on us in our open “lancha”, we hardly noticed as we were captivated by the numerous birds and 300 feet high, vertical canyon walls that surrounded us as we motored toward the finca. Upon our arrival to Finca Tatín (http://www.fincatatin.centramerica.com/mainE.htm), we immediately knew we were going to like this place. Tyler, my Dad, and I were assigned a comfortable, quaint cabin right on the river’s edge, with a complete bathroom and single bed downstairs for my Dad and a double bed upstairs for me and Tyler. All over the swampy ground of Finca Tatin - around our cabin, around the common areas, etc. - there were thousands of tiny blue crabs slowly crawling around and threatening each other with their 1” long claws.

The common area at the resort was filled with hammocks, books for trade, and handmade scrabble, backgammon, and chess boards. The menu listed good, healthy options for breakfast and lunch while dinner was communal, bringing everyone at the resort together at one table. Everything eaten or enjoyed at the resort was based on an honor system.

The resort kept a book in which each guest had his or her own page where one kept track of one’s meals, drinks, kayak trips, etc. At the end of the stay, one’s total was added and then paid. We added a couple nights stay, a kayak trip to the Biotopo Chocón Machacas (a government protected manatee reserve), and a couple of T-shirts to our tab before moving on up river to the town of Río Dulce. The town of Río Dulce wasn’t much more than a crossroads where we withdrew money from the ATM to pay our hosts on the river and catch our bus northwest to the town of Flores, seven hours away.

Flores, the town nearest to Tikal, the most important ancient Maya site in Guatemala, is a touristy but cute little town built on an island in Lake Petén Itzá. The town is basically looped by one cobblestone street and is connected to the mainland by a human-made bridge. The cobbled streets are clean, the restaurants generally decent, the motor traffic minimal, the people friendly, and there’s always a view of the lake. We were still dealing with a shortage of cash as we quickly learned there were no ATM machines in Flores, and those ATMs in Santa Elena, the town on the other side of the bridge, did not contain any cash. However, we got lucky when an armored car arrived as we were standing outside the third bank we tried and the ATM was restocked. After withdrawing as much as we could, we returned to our pleasant, air-conditioned rooms.

On our second day in Flores, my Dad took the day off and chilled out in town while Tyler and I took a hired sardine can/mini-van to Tikal. We got there relatively late in the afternoon, found a guide, and took an express tour of the ruins. We got really lucky with our guide, who grew up just a few miles from Tikal in Uaxactún (sounds like Wa-shing-ton, seriously), and was extremely knowledgeable in medicinal plants, botany, biology, and local history. Our late arrival turned out to have an advantage; there were no tourists to distract our enjoyment of the park. We climbed several pyramids to find that we were the only ones on the structure. The views from the tops of the pyramids were spectacular, and the forest was busy with spider monkeys, parakeets, parrots, wild turkeys, oropendolas, woodpeckers, brown jays, hummingbirds, and much more. We saw many groups of leaf cutter ants carrying little green flags across the footpaths. The ants put their leafy treasures into fermenting holes and later eat the fungus that grows on the rotting leaves. We learned from our guide that these ants are basically mushroom farmers.

Our third day in Peten (the northern Guatemalan state or “department” where Flores and Tikal are located) was spent visiting Ixpanpajul, an overpriced park with suspension footbridges and tree canopy excursions located not too far from Flores. The staff at the park keeps the paths in good condition, and the long suspension bridges offer nice views of the park and surrounding area, but we felt the $25 entrance fee per person was a bit steep for a hike through foliage similar to that found at Tikal. While Ixpanpajul did offer the sounds of howler monkeys miles off in the trees, it lacked the magnificence of the ruins and flora and fauna of Tikal, for which we paid the equivalent of $7.00 each. On our way out of the park, I politely told the woman at the front desk about our disappointment at being charged so much for so little.

Our next destination from Peten was the old colonial city (and former capital of Guatemala) Antigua, about 45 minutes outside Guatemala City. We had two options for making the trip to Antigua: 1. Take a 9.5-hour bus ride from Flores to Guatemala City, then a shuttle to Antigua, or 2. Take a 1-hour plane ride (for about $100.00) from Flores to Guatemala City, and then a shuttle to Antigua. It didn’t take long to make that decision. We flew at night and the whole country was dark; only a few times were there a few lines of dim street lights indicating a village below. Suddenly we came over a mountain range and the orange-yellow lights of Guatemala’s capital spread out to the horizon. We arrived at our hotel in Antigua, an elegant colonial style building with a courtyard and garden, at about 11 pm and quickly went to sleep, dreaming of the next day’s adventures.

We woke up in Antigua on Dec 24^th, had our complimentary breakfast, and took a stroll around town. Our only plan for the day was to find the best coffee and pastries in town, an admirable goal for which Tyler happily takes credit. As it turned out, Christmas Eve was not the best day for pastry hunting as many shops were closed; however, we were able to find some acceptable cheesecake and cappuccinos.

On Christmas Day we had lunch at the Swiss owned Mesón Panza Verde. The three of us agreed that this was the most significant culinary experience we’d had in a long time. Tyler tried to take note of all the subtle and perfectly balanced flavors so he could try and recreate them later in his tiny kitchen in Xela. Beginning with our incredible arugula salads with a homemade dressing, we knew we were in for a culinary treat. My Dad and I went for the traditional turkey dinner with mashed potatoes– the best I’ve ever had (sorry mom!). Tyler had salmon with baked squash and yams. We were in ecstasy all the way through to the arrival of our chocolate mousse and apple streudel desserts, and even then we were not disappointed.

As we walked off our lunch around town, we happened upon a Christmas parade. We were enjoying the antics of the masked parade-goers and marimba players so much that we followed them for a couple of blocks. Later in the evening, Tyler and I went out in search of dessert and came upon a fusion Thai restaurant called Café Flor. We enjoyed the live piano music that was playing, but I was a little put off by my chocolate brownie made from corn flour, and we were both put off by the host/pianist’s peddling of music CDs at our table when the bill came.

On December 26^th, we headed back to Xela from Antigua by bus. We were glad to see the landscape change to pine trees and feel the air change to the cool mountain climate of the Western Highlands. After two-weeks traveling around Honduras and Guatemala, we were happy to be back at our home away from home.

El Día de Todos Los Santos by Cris

November proved to be a very busy month here in Guatemala.

Halloween came and went without a trick or a treat. Although Tyler and I had bought a bowl full of Hershey Kisses and gum wrapped like gold coins, not one trick-or-treater found his or her way to our front step. Perhaps it was the scary music Tyler had playing outside through hidden speakers?

However, November 1st, All Saints Day, was much more lively. On this day we headed down to the local cemetery where we witnessed a sea of colors. Flower vendors, kite sellers, and fruit hawkers were lined up outside the cemetery while young boys walked around the graves selling cotton candy. Rather than a day of mourning, it looked much more like a day at the fair.

In Guatemala, as in some other Latin American countries, while All Saints Day commemorates the saints (as its name implies), November 2nd, All Soul's Day, remembers those unfortunate souls stuck in purgatory. During these two days, the souls of the underworld walk among the living. If family and friends don't bring offerings to their passed loved ones, the living may be punished by illness, crop failures, tax auditings, and a pimple on the end of their nose. (Okay, so I made up those last two.) People may also decorate their houses and leave a sort of offering of liquor, food, candles and flowers on a shrine. While I did see these shrines in Mexico when I lived there, I did not witness them here in Xela. Customs range somewhat from country to country and even from village to village.

In Quetzaltenango, it is a happy coincidence that the winds pick up in November, and as most cemeteries are flat and devoid of trees, the conditions are ripe for kite flying. The Maya village of Santiago Sacatepequez has become famous for the 10-20 foot bamboo and tissue paper kites that are flown in its cemeteries during these first two days of November. The tradition began back in 1940 when three young men built the first large kite to entertain the families as they swept the dirt off grave sites, trimmed overgrown grasses, painted weather-faded tombstones, and layed flowers on headstones. It has now turned into a competition to see who can build the largest kite. As is written in Culture and Customs of Guatemala, Kenneth W. Smith, an anthropologist who spent time studying the kite flying tradition in Sacatepequez, "believes that the practice became a way of attracting single, young women of the town, who were generally inaccessible during most of the year, as virtuous women should not be seen conversing openly or flirting with men" (Shea, 2001, p.42). For our single friends out there, forget Internet dating. Go fly a kite. It sounds like more fun.



































The following weekend Tyler and I headed to Guatemala City for the NTC (National Teachers' Conference) put on by IGA-Guatemala (the administrative headquarters for the school I work for in Xela). The conference took place over the course of three days with about 900 people in attendance. This made for 150-180 participants in each of my four workshops. Luckily Tyler was there to assist me as I tried to arrange the crowd into groups of four. However, it wasn't all work and no play. Tyler and I had the pleasure of sharing a cocktail or two and swapping stories with Monterey Institute professor Kathi Bailey who was also presenting at the conference. In addition, we shared a very nice evening at IGA's cultural center where photographs of Native Americans taken by Edward S. Curtis were on display. The exhibit, "Sacred Legacy", (of which there is a book of the collection by the same name) is sponsored by the Public Affairs and Cultural Affairs sections of the US embassy here in Guatemala. As I understand, one purpose for the exhibit is to celebrate the beauty and traditions of indigenous people and to introduce Guatemalans to the native people of the US. Examples of these incredible photos can be seen at the following website: http://spanish.guatemala.usembassy.gov/curtisfotos.html


Just five days after returning from Guatemala City, I began teaching a four-week, 60-hour teacher training course for 12 pre-service and in-service English teachers from Xela and the surrounding areas. The course covered topics ranging from first and second language acquisition, to cooperative learning, to grammar in context, to using authentic materials. Tyler even cameoed with two workshops on speaking and listening activities. The course culminated in each participant presenting a lesson plan and teaching part of the lesson to the other course participants. I am happy to report that everyone involved felt it was a very worthwhile, informative experience. I, personally, am thrilled to now know 12 more people in Xela.

From left to right, back row to front: Brenda (Director of IGA-Xela, http://www.igaxela.org ), Jorge, me, Glenda, Irma, Tyler, Javier, Veronica (in pink), Ana, Lilly, Astrid, Rufino, and, Cesar. (Miryam and Claudia were not present.)

With the NTC and the teacher training course now under my belt, Tyler and I are leaving once again, on the 4am bus, to meet my father at the Guatemala City airport on December 12th. Our next posting should be of our exciting trip through Honduras and Northern Guatemala as we visit different Maya ruins and howler monkeys. Stay tuned, and happy holidays!

Work, Play, and the United Fruit Company by Cris

Work: It’s hard to believe it’s already been a month and a half since we arrived in Guatemala. I’ve been keeping very busy at work observing teachers and writing up observation reports, working with teachers and administration on testing students and placing them into levels, evaluating and choosing student textbooks, and facilitating teacher trainer workshops. My office is downtown at IGA-Sede (http://www.igaxela.org) . (Sede means central seat or office.) Here classes are offered in the mornings before work or school from 7-9am and in the afternoons from about 3-7pm. It is also the home of the bilingual secretary program for girls in grades 10-12.

The building where IGA-Sede is located used to be a private house and then a hotel. The rooms are arranged around a central courtyard, as is typical in Spanish architecture. Saturdays are the busiest days at IGA when both university students and elementary kids come to study for 3-6 hours. Therefore, most of the teachers at IGA Sede teach six days a week. I only go in on Saturdays when I have to observe. Having the weekend off is one of my cultural customs I’m clinging on to.

Although IGA-Sede is non-denominational, it coordinates and runs the English programs at two local Catholic schools: Liceo Guatemala, the boys Catholic school, and Maria Auxiliadora, the girls Catholic School. Both schools are Kindergarten through twelfth grade with the 10-12th graders specializing in a profession. The boys are offered careers in Computation, Graphic Design, Medicine, and Sciences. The girls are offered a career in…being bilingual secretaries. IGA-Sede is currently working on getting a teaching program for the girls approved by the Ministry of Education; however, it is currently an uphill battle. Of course other options are available to both male and female students if they study in a bachillerato or college prep program and continue on to college.

I don’t work so much with students but spend most of my time with the teachers. They are a really great, hard-working group, most of them teaching both at IGA-Sede and in the Liceo and Maria programs. Brenda, the Director of IGA-Xela (which includes Sede, Liceo, and Maria), was a Fulbright scholar in the States and has a background in non-governmental organization (NGO) administration. Before directing IGA-Xela (a non-profit organization), she was both a teacher and worked for the NGO Save the Children. She runs her programs very professionally and, at the same time, treats her faculty and staff like family. I have told Brenda that I feel as if I have won the English Language Fellow lottery, having been placed under her direction. Needless to say, I am really enjoying my job.

Play: As one can note from his previous posting, Tyler’s mission in life here is to find the best mountain biking trail and something more diverse to eat. Just recently Tyler participated in a night race, 4km (about 3 miles) almost all up a steep slope. He has become a familiar fixture at the local bike shops. Tyler also scored for us yesterday when he bought a 2 pound bottle of Tahini from the local restaurant owner of Café Babylon. Tyler has been a big support to me both at home and at work. This week we team facilitated a workshop on Teaching Grammar in Context.

The weekend of October 7th Tyler and I finally took a trip out of town to Panajachel (Pahn-ah-ha-chell) with an American, Scott, who works at IGA-Sede and who has been living in Xela for the past seven years. Panajachel is a small village located on the beautiful Lake Atitlán, about a four-hour trip on one of the local chicken buses if the road is clear. (Hurricane Stan caused a lot of damage last year, so bridges are being built where roads were washed away.) Panajachel was once populated by the Tz’utujil until they were defeated by a rival Maya group, the Kaqchikel, with the help of the Spanish conquistadors. Panajachel is a quaint little town with cobblestone streets, but it has long been discovered by gringos. Therefore, much of the businesses along the main drag pander to foreign tourists. As a result, the spectacular views of Lake Atitlán and the surrounding volcanoes are somewhat spoiled by aggressive locals selling their wares and services.

Lake Atitlán is a spectacular sight; however, it has faced it's own share of environmental degradation. One of the islands the lake surrounds is a nature preserve to protect the local species of grebe from extinction as the island consists of reeds that are necessary for the birds' survival. Unfortunately, however, with the introduction of black bass not native to the lake's ecosystem, the birds were unable to avoid their tragic fate as the carnivorous fish feasted on the small grebe offspring.

Panajachel and the villages of Lake Atitlan are the first places we have seen where Maya men still wear the clothes of their ancestors. Due to the prejudice against the Maya, many Maya men who had to deal with their European brethren found it easier to do business if they succumbed to wearing the clothes of westerners. However, many Maya women in both the larger cities and smaller villages honor their traditional heritage by weaving and wearing the multi-colored huipil (blouse) and corte (woven wraparound skirt), the skill of which has been passed down through hundreds of years. Maya men and women wear only the colors and patterns of textiles that represent the region where they are from.

The central plaza in Santiago Atitlan is a meeting place for both young and old. The plaza is where you'll find the local shool, church, and market. It is the cultural center of town.

A common sight in the streets of towns and cities in Guatemala is the large loads Maya women carry on their heads to and from the market. I never cease to be impressed by how much they can balance on their heads.

Keeping one's shoes cleaned and shined is a serious business in Guatemala. Most of the shoeshiners are young boys who will offer their services for 2 or 3 quetzales (about 30-40 cents). It's somewhat controversial engaging in commerce with such a young person for their are two sides to the coin. On the one hand, by taking advantage of his services you could be supplying the shoeshiner with much needed quetzales in order to get something to eat. On the other hand, one wonders if one isn't encouraging him to stay in the streets to make his living (rather than going to school) and encouraging his parents to send him out into the street to earn for his family.

Our afternoon in Santiago Atitlán ended with the 20-minute boat ride back across the lake to Panajachel. Our small lancha was occupied by Americans, Europeans, and a few Maya locals. The Europeans shared with everyone the small, sweet bananas they had just bought, and I couldn't help thinking how such large cultural and language barriers can so simply be crossed with a piece of fruit. Of course the irony is how much conflict was also brought to the country of Guatemala over bananas. Anyone who has studied the history of Guatmala, especially the years which led up to the bloody civil war only 10 years past, knows what a significant role the United States played in Guatemala's very recent conflict.

United Fruit Company: In 1931 Jorge Ubico was elected president of Guatemala. According to Maureen Shea's Culture and Customs of Guatemala (2001), for thirteen years he ruled "with an iron hand...tolerating no dissent." Paraphrasing Shea, Ubico was able to keep the Guatemalan economy from total collapse by courting, largely, US investors and through exploiting the Maya people as a labor force. In order to maintain power, Ubico continued to grant US investors, particularly the United Fruit Company, with the most fertile lands, lands that were often already being cultivated by Maya, in return for US support of his "illegal, fixed reelections" (ibid). Ubico permitted the United Fruit Company to continue to exploit the Maya workforce and made the company exempt from import duties and property taxes. Nine years after Ubico's first election, 90 percent of Guatemala's produce was being sold directly to the US. During World War II, as many educated Guatemalans became aware of the ideals of freedom being espoused by the US, many students protested and were joined in a strike by laborers during the October Revolution. As a result, in 1944, Ubico, the largest landowner in Guatemala, was forced to resign.

The period from 1944-1954 following Ubico's resignation is known as "The Ten Years of Spring". A provisional government run by two military officers and a civilian governed until Juan Jose Arevalo, a progressive, was elected, largely with the help of student support. Although Arevalo brought about reform in literacy and voting rights, it was not until his successor Arbenz Guzman, elected in 1950, was the issue of land reform addressed.

In order to decrease Guatemala's economic reliance on the US and bananas and in order to improve the conditions of the Maya people, Guzman "attempted to diversify crop production and establish alternative institutions to compete with those that United Fruit dominated" (ibid). In 1952, the Guatemalan government passed into law the Law of Agrarian Reform which called for the redistribution of unused or underutilized land to the landless Maya people. "Lands that were to be redistributed were public lands, those that were not farmed or those in excess of 488 acres, with exceptions made for those that were efficiently farmed" (ibid). The elite landowners saw this as a threat to their wealth and power, as did the United Fruit Company which only utilized 15 percent of its landholdings. Also, the Board of Directors of United Fruit were "angered by the provision that the value of their land would be determined by what they had reported for tax purposes, since they had misrepresented this value for years" (ibid) and that they were required to pay $10.5 million in back taxes for the International Railway Company in operation in Guatemala, a branch of United Fruit. As a result, the United Fruit Company began a smear campaign in the United States during the McCarthy era and labeled Guzman and his government as communist. John Foster Dulles, then US Secretary of State, and his brother Allen Dulles, then head of the CIA, had close ties to the United Fruit Company, and they were able to persuade President Eisenhower that United Fruit was "being victimized by the communist regime in Guatemala" (ibid). The Catholic church in Guatemala, itself a landowner and ally to the landowners and conservatives who supported the clergy, also protested the land reform measure and cried 'communism'. "In short, the Catholic Church, the United Fruit Company, and the US governement formed a powerful alliance and began to pressure the military" (ibid) which resulted in a CIA-led military coup in 1954 of a democratically elected president, ending the "Ten Years of Spring". Guzman was replaced by Castillo Armas who led the invading forces into Guatemala City and who, shortly thereafter, "annulled the 1945 Constitution, did away with the Law of Agrarian Reform and returned the expropriated lands" (ibid). Shea has named the period that followed the coup the "Era of Darkness" from which arose the bloody Guatemalan civil war that would last until 1996. One cannot help wonder what life would be like now for Guatemala, especially for the Maya, if the reforms Guzman had put into place had been allowed to stand. It sure makes once think twice about buying bananas from United Fruit Company, now known as Chiquita.