{"id":3412,"date":"2017-09-11T12:37:27","date_gmt":"2017-09-11T20:37:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/?p=3412&#038;lang=en"},"modified":"2018-04-12T11:21:20","modified_gmt":"2018-04-12T19:21:20","slug":"combative-poetry-from-a-young-kaqchikel-poet","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/uncategorized\/combative-poetry-from-a-young-kaqchikel-poet\/?lang=en","title":{"rendered":"Combative poetry from a young Maya Kaqchikel poet"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>By Juan Jos\u00e9 Alvarado Sitavi<\/p>\n<h4><em><strong>1. Yesterday\u2019s woman, today<\/strong><\/em><\/h4>\n<figure id=\"attachment_3393\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-3393\" style=\"width: 258px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-3393\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-704x1024.png?resize=258%2C375\" alt=\"\" width=\"258\" height=\"375\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?resize=704%2C1024&amp;ssl=1 704w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?resize=206%2C300&amp;ssl=1 206w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?resize=768%2C1117&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?resize=335%2C487&amp;ssl=1 335w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?w=822&amp;ssl=1 822w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 258px) 100vw, 258px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-3393\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Dibujos por Juan Jos\u00e9 Alvarado Sitavi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>\u201cIndian!\u201d is the first thing that barefoot woman heard. \u201cMaria,\u201d everyone called her, though she had her own name.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGet out of the way!\u201d those people said to her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou hear?\u201d they repeated to her in a language she didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo dirty!\u201d But if she every morning went down to the river to play with the water\u2026<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFilthy-hair!\u201d But if she braided her own hair\u2026<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUgly paws!\u201d said those eyes that watched her walk barefoot in the streets.<\/p>\n<p>She is an adobe brick in a mountain of snow.<\/p>\n<p>In Guatemala there are many strange people like her, who walk without understanding that when they\u2019re shouted at or spoken to it is only to degrade or insult them.<\/p>\n<p>She never answers these people, because she has never understood their language since she only ever nursed from her own dialect. She is the person who stands aside, not out of fear, but because her grandmother taught her that manners don\u2019t fight anyone, but instead make you bigger.<\/p>\n<p>She is the foreigner and the stranger in her own land.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><em><strong>2. That social network<\/strong><\/em><\/h4>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-3391\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3-1024x663.png?resize=452%2C293\" alt=\"\" width=\"452\" height=\"293\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?resize=1024%2C663&amp;ssl=1 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?resize=300%2C194&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?resize=768%2C497&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?resize=335%2C217&amp;ssl=1 335w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?resize=1050%2C680&amp;ssl=1 1050w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado3.png?w=1270&amp;ssl=1 1270w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 452px) 100vw, 452px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Yesterday the best social network was the fire, since it brought together our grandparents, parents, and us, the children, to talk and hear advice.<\/p>\n<p>Yesterday everyone connected with each other around the fire made in the middle of the kitchen, as the coffee and <em>chirmol<\/em> boiled.<\/p>\n<p>Yesterday everyone told each other, \u201cthat\u2019s good,\u201d \u201cthat\u2019s bad,\u201d \u201cthat needs to improve.\u201d This way our parents and grandparents assessed us, and meanwhile we the children froze the moment to keep in our mind\u2019s eye, without anyone being able to see it.<\/p>\n<p>All of this is over, that fire that united the family disappeared. Today only ashes remain, and the three stones that held the <em>comal<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>Now no one keeps or freezes those beautiful moments of life in their mind. Now the world decides if they\u2019re worthy of the approval they need.<\/p>\n<p>Today there\u2019s no more <em>Pixab\u2019anik<\/em> (council) like yesterday; today we see and find advice in memes, and if we like them we \u201clike\u201d them\u2026 only if we like them. We miss that yesterday, that fire that united the family as our grandparents gave us advice.<\/p>\n<p>In this present we disconnect from the land to sail in the ship of a cellphone, immersing ourselves in the ocean of the internet and with the sharks of technology\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><em><strong>2. Where are they?<\/strong><\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\" wp-image-3397 alignright\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1-788x1024.png?resize=331%2C430\" alt=\"\" width=\"331\" height=\"430\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png?resize=788%2C1024&amp;ssl=1 788w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png?resize=231%2C300&amp;ssl=1 231w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png?resize=768%2C998&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png?resize=335%2C435&amp;ssl=1 335w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2-1.png?w=1016&amp;ssl=1 1016w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 331px) 100vw, 331px\" \/><\/a><\/h4>\n<p>\u2026Yesterday my grandmother told her secrets to the trees, and she bathed with pine needles to smell nice.<\/p>\n<p>Today she walks with a cane and when she lifts her eyes toward the hill that was her playground, where she too climbed the trees like the <em>k\u2019oy<\/em> (monkey), her eyes fill with tears.<\/p>\n<p>My grandmother always says, \u201cDid you ever ask the hill permission to tear off its clothes? Did you give thanks? Or clothe it again?\u201d \u201c&#8230;Who were they? What day did they do it?\u201d my grandmother asks herself. She also thinks that when she dies she will have to go back to play and visit the hill, but then she asks herself, just like this, \u201cHow can I smell nice if there aren\u2019t any pines left? What tree will I climb?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She asks herself where the trees went, or perhaps the <em>Nahual<\/em> of the hill hid them\u2026 she thinks in a low voice.<\/p>\n<p>Aaaaaaaaay! Where did the trees go? I want them to tell me today the things I confided in them before, because now I\u2019ve forgotten, aaaaaaaaay! I want them to shade me, for pine needles to fall to smell nice like yesterday\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Where did the trees go? Aaaaaaaaay! They tore them out and with them went my secrets. Where are the trees that yesterday I climbed? And from which I looked upon my town, Aaaaaaaaay! They tore them out and took them and with them went my secrets\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-3395 alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4-764x1024.png?resize=361%2C484\" alt=\"\" width=\"361\" height=\"484\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?resize=764%2C1024&amp;ssl=1 764w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?resize=224%2C300&amp;ssl=1 224w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?resize=768%2C1029&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?resize=335%2C449&amp;ssl=1 335w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?resize=1050%2C1407&amp;ssl=1 1050w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado4.png?w=1074&amp;ssl=1 1074w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 361px) 100vw, 361px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>Juan Jos\u00e9 Alvarado Sitavi was born in 1989 in Chi Xot (San Juan Comalapa) in the state of Chimaltenango.<\/p>\n<p>He has participated in two national and international poetry contests in Quetzaltenango and Chi Xot. He is a prize-winner in various poetry events, has several honorable mentions and has been invited to different cities to participate in both unpublished poetry readings and readings with famous writers. In 2010 his poem \u201cWhen they didn\u2019t want to sleep\u201d was featured in Guatemala&#8217;s national historical memory poetry competition.<\/p>\n<p>He has developed politically and intellectually with different organizations, like: Somos Seres, Sol Maya, Maya Balam, Yo Tambi\u00e9n Decido. He is a member of the collective Aj Tz\u2019ib, and also collaborates with MIA (Women Beginning in the Americas), which educates male students to eradicate femicide in the University of San Carlos in Guatemala City.<\/p>\n<p>His poetry is mystical, coming from the context that be believes, that he breathes, that he lives.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>By Juan Jos\u00e9 Alvarado Sitavi 1. Yesterday\u2019s woman, today \u201cIndian!\u201d is the first thing that barefoot woman heard. \u201cMaria,\u201d everyone called her, though she had her own name. \u201cGet out of the way!\u201d those people said to her. \u201cYou hear?\u201d they repeated to her in a language she didn\u2019t know. \u201cSo dirty!\u201d But if she [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3394,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[409,446,1,438],"tags":[1017,1016,1015,560,65,1010,1013,1018,997,87,1011,1014,1012,568,576,567,577,1019,1009,1020,1021,1022,693],"class_list":["post-3412","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture","category-literature","category-uncategorized","category-youth","tag-cultural-preservation","tag-cultural-survival","tag-culture","tag-guatemala-en","tag-guatemala","tag-guatemalan","tag-historical-memory","tag-identity","tag-kaqchikel","tag-maya","tag-mayan","tag-memory","tag-poem","tag-poema","tag-poema-en","tag-poesia","tag-poesia-en","tag-poet","tag-poetry","tag-poets","tag-resistance","tag-resistence","tag-youth"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/seresjuanalvarado2.png?fit=822%2C1196&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7ljt7-T2","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2663,"url":"https:\/\/www.entremundos.org\/revista\/culture\/telaranas-de-regina-jose-galin\/?lang=en","url_meta":{"origin":3412,"position":0},"title":"Regina Jos\u00e9 Galindo\u2019s Telara\u00f1as","author":"EntreMundos","date":"15 mayo, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"By\u00a0Ediciones del Pensativo This year, Ediciones del Pensativo published Telara\u00f1as, a book of poetry by Regina Jos\u00e9 Galindo, who is known internationally for her work as a visual artist specializing in performance art. 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