On the far side of the checkpoint, four soldiers had stopped a dusty Ford Export pickup. A group of five traditionals—four men and one woman—stood beside the truck. All had the distinctive high cheekbones and arched noses of the Maya and were dressed in loose-fitting white shirts with brightly embroidered hems, baggy pants—or a skirt, in the case of the woman—and sandals. Like all of the campesino farmers in this region, the men carried machetes in sheaths hung from belts. They watched fearfully as two of the soldiers searched through the bags of corn, jerry cans of kerosene, and boxes of produce that filled the back of the pickup. The other two soldiers kept watch over the farmers, assault rifles at the ready.