By Ann M. Augherton
Herald Managing Editor
(From the issue of 11/27/03)

HERALD Managing Editor Ann M. Augherton continues her series on her travels through Central America, as part of a study tour, sponsored by the International Catholic Union of the Press (UCIP). She was selected to join 15 journalists from around the world on a three-week trip through Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador.

Journalists are supposed to cover the news, not make the news, but on a hilly road in Guatemala, the group of international journalists became a part of something they had not bargained for.

Our three-week adventure placed us at the Guatemalan border on Day 12, and following an eight-hour wait at the border, we were allowed to enter. CERIGUA, a news agency and our Guatemalan coordinators, helped us pile into two mini-vans and we were off for Tapachula. In one of the first really enjoyable meals of the trip, we ate at Pollo Campero, a Guatemalan fast food chicken chain. By the time I got home from the trip, this chain had just opened restaurants in Bailey’s Crossroads and Herndon, with three-hour waits for their signature chicken.

After dinner, the heavy rains began as we headed for Panajachel. People had already warned us not to travel at night because of highway assaults, but we seemed to have no choice. Our driver drove too fast, followed too closely, took chances passing cars and refused to slow down. Everything came to a head on a dark hill as we saw a truck stopped a few hundred yards ahead of us. With our headlights we could see a river of water, mud and rocks coming from the top of the hill down toward us. Our driver said we would wait a few minutes until we could pass. Despite our protests and the water getting closer and closer to the van, the driver held his position. The second van had already turned around and headed back several hundred yards. Our driver refused to turn around until the other driver told him to follow him. We were taking another route that would add six hours, despite the fact that it was 10 p.m. Minutes later the plan changed, and we stopped at a roadside hotel for the night. This incident fractured the group of journalists, as people lined up on both sides of the decision to not risk crossing the water.

Day 13 began early as we headed to San Lucas Toliman, where I had been some six years earlier on a mission trip. It was a beautiful sunny day as our two vans began the trek. The drivers stopped at a scenic overlook so the journalists could take a few pictures. The climb through these mountains was breathtaking. As we caravanned upward, we heard a pop. Seconds later an old white pick-up truck came careening down the road in front of us with one reverse light on. It looked as if the truck was going to run into the side of our van. Our driver swerved to the edge of the road to get out of its way. The pick-up truck stopped at our side and the man shouted to us "punto de asalto." He said there was a point of assault ahead on the road. It appeared he had been shot in the face. He then sped off in the opposite direction, as our vans did the same. We stopped the few cars behind us and told them what had happened. The look of terror on their faces spoke volumes.

Highway bandits frequently hide in the hills and come out to ambush cars. It was literally by just a few seconds that we missed being the intended target. Surely two vans piled high with luggage and camera equipment would have been more of a target than one man in an old truck. As we returned to the overlook point we heard a second shot and the robbers could be seen retreating through the hills.

After a wait, the drivers thought it would be safe to go through. The police had been called and even though they rarely catch the thieves, surely the bandits would not still be there.

We were anxious and alert as we drove past the assault point, not entirely sure where it had happened. When we got to the next little town we waited for the tourist police escort. It was two uniformed men who sat in the front passenger seat of each van. I found out later that one day earlier the office manager at the HERALD had called the Poor Clares to request prayers for myself and the other journalists — the power of prayer.

We reached Panajachel, a quaint little town on the shores of Lake Atitlán, by late afternoon. We checked into the Posada Xithec, once again the three Americans sharing a room to keep each other psyched for the remainder of the trip. We set out for the town market and were told to be back before dark. Well, a rainstorm, a hammock shop and some jewelry stands later, it was dark. We stopped a policeman to ask which was the safest route to the hotel. He offered to drive us, but I wasn’t sure the guy in the back seat wasn’t a prisoner, but it was another officer. The three of us squeezed in with the three police officers, with bags and my hammock in hand, and made quite the scene as we arrived at the hotel where a concerned trip organizer asked, "What happened?"

A hoot owl and some visiting Spanish tourists kept us awake most of the night. Morning came early as we left for 7 a.m. Mass only to find out it was at 8 a.m., but we had to be on the road by then. Antigua was the next destination, where we visited the church where Hermano Pedro is buried, and now is revered as a saint. We had lunch, toured the charming town that was once the capital of Guatemala, and hours later we were back on the road headed for Guatemala City, in the dark once again.

We arrived at a university dorm where the nine women were to share sagging bunk beds in one room, the six men in their room and all sharing one bathroom. The journalists refused and the organizers took the weary group to a lovely hotel in Zona Uno, the most dangerous zone of Guatemala City. We were warned by the organizers not to go out alone, not to wear jewelry or cameras around our necks and that all areas of the city were dangerous.

The meat of the program began on Monday with a visit to the offices of CERIGUA, the news agency that carried the story of the journalists’ wait at the Guatemalan border and the highway assault. We toured the downtown area, saw the municipal building built from concrete mixed with milk and the cathedral where the names of the massacre victims are engraved on the front walls. Some 200,000 people were killed during Guatemala’s 36-year civil war, with the military reportedly responsible for most of the deaths.

We learned about the current political situation in Guatemala and the upcoming elections, scheduled for just weeks after our visit. We were warned that political demonstrations and spontaneous road blockades might happen. Mostly we saw colorful banners of the different political parties plastered on trees, stores and even roadside boulders.

"This is a very important moment for Guatemala," said Miguel Angél Albizurez, coordinator of the Alianza Contra la Impunidad y Centro (The Alliance Against Impunity). "This is a very hard electoral process."

Guatemalan law was changed to allow former dictator and retired Gen. Efraín Ríos Montt to run for president. Nearly 200 massacres happened during his regime in the early 1980s. On Nov. 9, he was defeated by Oscar Berger and Alvaro Colom, who will face off in a Dec. 28 runoff election. Amnesty International reported that there were 21 election-related killings and 46 threats against journalists, in addition to "100 other election-related incidents of threats and intimidation."

Albizurez detailed some of his country’s history, the massacres and disappearances of many people, the prevalent poverty, land ownership issues, drug trafficking and organized crime, and the perception of government corruption.

"When the government or military are involved in crime, it’s impossible to prosecute them," he said. "There are good men in government, but they are afraid to do things and are the victims of the bad people in the system. Some people sell their souls."

Guatemalan society lost a full generation of leaders in the 1980s, according to Albizurez. "We lost laborers, priests and Church people, students, farmers, journalists.

"Wages are getting lower and there is no sign of recuperation of economic strength," he said, adding that out of the 131 municipalities, 110 are in a state of hunger. "People are dying of famine and there is no plan to fix that."

Albizurez said the main problem is land ownership. "In this society, private property is sacred, no matter that people are dying of hunger, there are no laws against majority land ownership."

"The international media said nothing about the genocide here," said Ileana Alamilla, director of CERIGUA. Her group was founded to tell the world what happened in Guatemala. And as she pointed out, even journalists were victims of human rights violations. This presentation detailed common intimidation tactics against the media and the lack of unity among journalists. This surprised me. Being on the national board of the Society of Professional Journalists, I know that our organization quickly comes to the legal and financial aid of journalists in the U.S.

Guatemala’s special prosecutor for crimes against journalists met with our group to discuss security concerns because of the highway assault. He would arrange for a police escort if we wanted it. It was put to a vote and the majority voted against it, much to the surprise of the journalists from the United States and Ghana. We thought it was a good idea, especially since it was widely recommended. We had brought with us a printout from the State Department that detailed the country’s rampant crime and urged people to use the tourist police as escorts. The other journalists called that "propaganda from the American government to discourage its citizens from traveling to Third World countries." At that point I gave up, and thought whatever happens will happen.

One of the translators epitomized the attitude of many in the group. "You must trust in God. He’ll protect you." When asked why God didn’t protect the man in the pick-up truck who was shot, she replied, "Maybe he didn’t believe in God, or he didn’t pray." We were incredulous that this was the answer given to a legitimate security concern. She said, "I live (in Guatemala) and I’m still alive."

After a few more meetings under our belts, we boarded the bus for the several-hour ride to the border of El Salvador, which we reached at dusk. As we stepped off the bus to present our passports, we were surrounded by men with large wads of cash in their hands asking if we wanted to change our Guatemalan quetzals for the currency of El Salvador — the U.S. dollar.

El Salvador is the second most dangerous country in Latin America, after Colombia. As we crossed the border, once again at night, the journalists hoped that our five-day stay would not live up to the country’s reputation.