Guatemala: Forced Disappearance and the Search for Justice in El Jute

As the evening sun disappeared below the horizon I could just make out Don Virgilio’s profile against the fading but brilliant orange, blue and purple light of dusk behind him. Don Virgilio, like all the campesinos I have met in Guatemala is extraordinarily hospitable, humble and kind. He was dressed in impeccably clean jeans and a long-sleeve dress shirt—despite the oppressive heat—recently polished boots, the ever present cowboy hat and a machete: always with the machete, even when there is not the slightest chance that one might need a large knife men here always carry around their machetes. Don Virgilio is pushing 40 and shows the wear and tear of struggling to make a living in rural Guatemala. Grasping his hand for a shake you feel the calluses of a thousand hours spent turning the earth with a wide-bladed hoe and chopping fire wood. “*

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