We arrived in Chixlton about two hours late and the people from the community had left (they intended to greet us upon our arrival — damn!) except for a few members from the Mesa de la Directiva (Board of Directors). We slept on woods planks in the one room clinic and told stories with shadow puppets (we’re all kids at heart!) on the ceiling using our hands and flashlights.

The roosters didn’t stop all night, but we all woke up refreshed by the cool mountain air.

December to May is the dry season, so right now they ration water by allowing only women and children to wash clothes and themselves. We also passed an ancient watering hole is about 450 feet deep, which is now dry. Their ancestors told them that they once were able to drop buckets on rope down the hole and retrieve clean water. Manuel and Marcario wanted to show us how deep it really was so they started prying large stones out of the ground and hurled them down the into the pit. We didn’t hear the 20 pound rocks hit bottom.

After playing near the "bottomless pit" we headed back to the village’s church where they served us a breakfast fit for royalty: stewed spinach in beef broth, large chunks of beef, yellow and blue corn tortillas, salt, coffee and sugar — a community that gets their water from a muddy hole gave us all of this. I’m constantly reminded how selfless our new friends are, they’re an inspiration to me.

When we were all full and happy and had expressed our endless gratitude to the women who prepared our meal, we went to pick coffee cherries in Manuel’s coffee "parcela". We picked coffee, ate oranges from the organs trees that provide shade for the coffee plants, and closed out our visit with our new friends and family here Chixlton.

The issue of indoor air quality for women and children also hit me pretty hard. Women do all of the cooking and boiling of water for drinking in tin shacks that have small opening near the roof. The openings do not allow sufficient airflow, however, so the walls and ceiling of these kitchens are coated with black soot. I can’t imagine what the women’s lung must look like. I asked about asthma and other respiratory problems among the women and children of the village, but no one seemed to know anything. Simply installing some inexpensive chimneys or vents would really help out. Maybe this could be a focus of one of the next trips?

Today we head for Yachil, a young, farmer-owned cooperative that is way off the beaten path. The farmers have to carry every 70 kilo bag that they produce over 2 miles over slick, narrow, rocky paths to the nearest road. Evidently, the village where we are going has never before received foreign visitors, never ever.

Background on Yachil:

• 1,400 members
• The co-op is far enough from Mut Vitz (another Zapatista-owned coffee co-op) that they’re not taking away or competing for business
• German and English coffee roasters are currently buying coffee from Yachil
• Most farmers of Yachil are currently working on organic certification (some are already certified), they just received FLO certification which means that Fair Trade coffee purchasers and brokers can now purchase coffee from them.

We just hiked trails that run deep into the mountains, muddy, slick, humid trails. We’re now sitting in a community that has never before seen foreigners in person.

- general observations —

• A lot of people have silver or gold teeth
• Different traditional dresses and worn by men of this group, haven’t seen any women or children anywhere
• All of the tables and benches are newly made
• I’ve heard music early everywhere we’ve gone, maybe the acoustics of the mountains carry music farther than in other places?
• The birds are singing really loudly right now
• We walked passed 15 foot tall sunflower plants — it was like Alice in Wonderland
• A lot of the men are wearing white cowboy hats
• The native language is Tzetzal (zet-zall) and they end all of their sentences with short humming that starts low, goes high, and end lows (kind of like when we say, "ohhh")
• The building we’re in is used as a church, a meetinghouse, and storage space. It’s made of 12 inch planks of woods and corrugated steel roof
• The skinniest chickens, roosters, and dogs run around freely outside and occasionally peer in the building to see what’s going on
• All of the men are probably in their 30s or 40s. The oldest men of the village live to be 60 or so
• Yachil has 46 members in San Juan Cuncuc, 30 of which are at the meeting
• In total, the Yachil has 1, 325 members — 230 members are currently certified organic producers, the others are in transition stages

The meeting begins with the usual welcoming, thank you, introductions and explanation of why we are here. By now, everyone has their introduction down pat.

Conversation between our group and the farmers goes through two translations: English to Spanish to Tzetzal and vice versa. I can’t help but wonder if some words get lost in translation?

This year is a small yield year for the co-op with only 6 containers predicted in 2005 (one container is 40,000 pounds of coffee), two of which have been purchased by Cooperative Coffees. Last year, the co-op produced 28 containers. They operate on a high-low yield cycle every other year.

The farmers and their families need medicine, water, a patio for drying the coffee beans and need more de-pulping machines (they currently have two right now). They realize that the co-op is young and that the benefits of being a FLO certified co-op are on the way. In short, Fair Trade prices for their coffee help reduce their suffering. They suffer because, like all Zapatistas, they are in resistance to a bad government, the federal Mexican government.

After the meeting, we ate another huge meal and checked out their compost pit and the tables that they currently use for coffee drying. We all gathered for a few pictures and gave our thanks and said good byes. They sent us on our way with huge pieces of sugar cane to gnaw on while we made our way back up the hills to the van. They give so much.