The hint of a high cheekbone; the very loud and obvious statement of our cinnamon or copper skin... have been erased from our history.
In my Guatemalan-immigrant childhood, the great Mayan jungle city of Tikal was a symbol of the civilization in our blood.
Only now do I realize how deeply fraught the idea of being 'Guatemalan' truly is...with the cultural collisions and the racial violence that produced a country.
Men of Maize is Miguel Ángel Asturias's Mayan masterpiece...a deep dive into the forces that made and kept the Maya a subservient caste.
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