In the United States we think of education as de rigueur for an ambitious young man or woman, not just learning to read and write, but college, even graduate school, a career, retirement, the good life — the American dream. For the Maya, such a concept is as remote as the planet Mars. The typical indigenous girl in Guatemala has little perceived need even to learn Spanish. Her whole world is a tiny corner in the mountains where only one or another of the twenty-two, mutually unintelligible Mayan languages is spoken. And the only people she will ever have occasion to speak with are the other residents in that village or hamlet, who also speak only language X. But even so, she seldom expects to leave her home. She will have many children, all born at home, some of whom will die, and in times of civil strife, others in her family will die as well. She will spend all day, every day, cooking over a wood fire, washing clothes in a river or lake, and caring for her children, all without any appliances. No one in the family will ever see a doctor, a dentist, or indeed a professional of any kind. For medications they will rely on traditional herbs, some of which are quite effective, but treatment for serious illnesses and accidents is out of reach. She may even believe that witches can bring on sickness, injury, and death. The typical indigenous girl in rural Guatemala will never learn any history; even contemporary politics will be about as far from her consciousness as the farthest galaxy. Her language probably has no word for ambition. She does know that there are rich people in Guatemala City, but she has never been there and it never crosses her mind that she might ever have any reason to go there.

The young man is in even worse circumstances. He generally has a few years of schooling, probably less than six, just enough to know that there is something different, which he perceives as better, and no way of gaining it; social mobility does not exist. Instead the typical young Mayan male faces a lifetime of drudgery, working in a shop or tending a mountain plot too small to feed his family and constantly worrying that the next heavy rain will wash it all away, perhaps carrying off his home and family in the process. Drunkenness, abandonment, and suicide are often perceived as the only relief of misery. 

Addressing the problems of poverty, illiteracy, isolation, inadequate housing, hygiene, medical care, and nutrition in Guatemala has for years engaged the efforts of hundreds of organizations. Yet most poor Guatemalans say that conditions are not improving; many say they are only getting worse, and in some respects they surely are—the housing shortage, for example, increases by approximately 43,000 units a year.  

Under such conditions it is easy to understand why the young people especially are ashamed of being Mayan. Until independence in 1821 and the abolition of slavery, a Mayan slave sold for less than the value a horse. The legacy of such racism today is easily demonstrated. The upper class regards the Maya as stupid, insensitive, and brutish. There is a saying in Guatemala, estupido como un indio, “dumb as an Indian,” our “dumb as an ox.” A teenage Mayan boy and girl who were in Chapel Hill, NC, in 2004, when asked if any of the students in their school would rather not be Mayan, replied in unison, “All of them!” A Mayan woman reported that the indigenous “think they have no value, no worth.” An elderly indigenous man with a reputation for wisdom in his society when asked what the Maya want most, replied simply “respect.”