Chapter 6: Anna's First Journal Entry

In the past I kept journals so that I would remember to listen to my children. As much as I love mom, she really doesn't listen to me. She never has. So I began to keep journals. Mostly I wrote about the trips I took or the boys I was in love with, or thought I was in love with.

Amy stopped reading.
Her grandmother had always listened to her.

All that changed last week--about the reasons why I kept a journal. I saw the documentary called Bitter Fruit. It was about the CIA and its role in overthrowing one of the presidents of Guatemala who as trying to create a more democratic country through land reform, democratic in the sense of wealth distribution. I realized that I know nothing Guatemala, about my father and his father and their life in Guatemala. I know we have my grandfather's books and some of his letters. But I've never looked at them except to look at my grandfather's penmanship.

Amy stopped reading.

She thinks about the mahogany bookcase.

Whenever dad talks about Guatemala he tells us about how he ate fresh fruit. How beautiful the weather was--that Guatemala is the land of eternal Spring. He talks about his education, and his favorite book The Three Musketeers. He likes to tell me about Lake Atitlan and the twelve Indian groups that lived around the lake each named after one of the apostles and each group wearing its own distinct dress. And he always said that the Indians were happy and that they didn't want to change.

Amy stopped reading.

She had heard these stories from her grandfather.

I knew my grandmother just barely. She didn't speak English, so mostly I remember sitting close to her and waiting to see what she pulled from her purse. She always seemed to have whatever was needed at that moment. My grandfather died before I was born. Dad never talks about him. When he does, he calls him Mr. Rubio. I know that my dad has nine siblings, two are half brothers.

Amy stopped reading.

She knew this about her grandfather.

I'm writing what I know because what I don't know is beginning to feel very large.

I know that my grandfather worked for some Guatemalan presidents, that he wrote books (which we have) and that he was the Consul General to Guatemala for the Southeastern states when he died in 1944. I'm wondering what role he played in these repressive governments I'm just now learning about.

Amy stopped reading.

She knew this about her great-grandfather.

But she had never wondered about him in this way.

To tell the truth, I'm afraid of what I'll find out. But I couldn't sleep last night, so I'm pretty sure I need to find out.

Amy stopped reading.

She's not sure what to think.

I called dad last night and began to talk to him about the documentary. He says that the communists needed to be stopped, that the communists were the ones killing and shooting. That under Ubica Guatemala became safe again and roads were built and the killing stopped. He says that nothing else happened except that the communists were put down and Guatemala was saved from communism. But I could tell he was upset that I asked. I had never asked about Guatemala and its politicals. And dad had never offered that information.

Amy stopped reading.

She never saw her grandfather get upset.

Every summer during high school I worked for my dad's freight forwarding company on Camp Street. He arranges for goods to be shipped to Central American countries. My job was to go to places like the United Fruit company and to consulates to pick up the bills of lading or to get the documents stamped required for the shipments. I didn't know anything about the United Fruit Company and how it was part of the coup in Guatemala back in the mid 50's.

Amy stopped reading.

She didn't know this about her mother.

She didn't know what her mother was writing about.

I start this journal with the intention of finding out what I can about my family's past, about my father's past and his father's past. It's his father's past that's actually the mystery. That's what this journal will record--who my grandfather was. I'm writing this for myself, and maybe for my children.

I talked to my brother and sister, and told them about what I am doing. My brother as usual encouraged me to continue. My sister as usual became agitated at the thought of uncovering something unpleasant.

Amy stopped reading.
My mother had a sister?