I met Edwin Canil when I was in High School traveling in Guatemala. He is an organizer and a resident of the rural village of Santa Maria Tzeja. As Edwin and I talked he told me a story from a time when violence had engulfed Guatemala.

After the Army had destroyed Santa Maria Tzeja, they moved through the jungle near the Tzeja river seeking those who had fled. They found the Canil family hiding under a piece of corrugated metal. Edwin managed to run and hide behind a fallen tree as the soldiers began firing becoming the only witness to the violence that wiped out his family. He described watching in horror as a soldier cut open his sister’s stomach with a bayonet and as his mother was shot to death as she tried to flee. He was six years old lef alone in the rainforest surrounded by the murdered bodies of his family.

I am traveling to Ft. Benning to evoke the spirits of Edwin’s family, to bear witness to their crucifixions. But I am also going because I believe in the resurrection, I believe that we must fight so that even evil’s strongest word is not final. There is nothing redemptive about the suffering of Edwin and his family, but when we witness to that suffering and resist it we are beginning to participate in the work of resurrection.

We go to Ft. Benning because we believe in the power of telling stories and evoking the presence of the martyred as a way to demand an end to the violence.

Tell Somebody!

The vigil itself was great. A large number of folks showed up, as usual, despite the cold and rainy weather. Tamara sang beautifully on stage, helping with the litany, as thousands stood in solidarity, chanting “Presente” after each victim’s name was read aloud. Though very much a time for mourning, the gathering was also a time to celebrate the resistence so many have taken part in through the years. Perhaps what helped convey this was the role the puppetistas played in the vigil.

The large puppets serve as a creative and engaging image to convey both mourning and celebration. While the litany is read, they lead the folks around the stage, to the gates, in what is pretty much a funeral procession. Once this is done, once the long list of the victim’s names are read, the puppetistas breakout in a drum beat and begin to dance. What was once mourning, what was once death, is suddenly brought to life in celebration of the resistence, solidarity, and community created by such acts. A certain theological concept comes to mind, no? I believe ressurection is the word we’re looking for here.

All in all, another fantastic experience I hope not to have again.

May the people of Latin America continue to experience ressurection. May they continue to join in solidarity with each other and experience life in the midst and face of death as brought upon them by the School of the Americas.

Tell Somebody!