Yes we had homes, but they destroyed them and burned them. Some of the companeros had stores, but they looted all the merchandise. That's why we left. The women gather behind, with the children between their legs and babies on their chests. An older woman covers her face with the white huipil bordered in red, the traditional clothing of this village.
Sobs cause the women's chests to convulse.
The barefoot children, hanging on their skirts, cough, and some cry. The older women begin to speak. Little by little, all the women talk at once, in Tzotzil. A litany of laments. It doesn't matter to them that the journalists don't understand.