It was the middle of May, just days into the rainy season when we made the trip to Lote 8, one of the dozens of Maya-Q’eqchi’ villages scattered within, and against, the steep and perennially green Sierra de Santa Cruz in far eastern Guatemala. Clouds built and dissipated over the Western Highlands, reaching the lowlands around Lake Izabal and the Polochic River basin in the falling dusk. Then the stagnant heat broke, in storm. In the weeks to come, the rains would increase, scouring the mountains of their red earth, forcing it to the valley below, and eventually out to sea.
