guatemala city | guatemala
2026
chicken bus | camionetas
guatemala city | guatemala
2026
Chicken buses, locally called camionetas, are retired North American school buses painted in bright, vibrant colors and used as public transit across Guatemala.
textile in maya brocade style | lake atitlan region
panajachel | guatemala
2026
lancha crossing lake atitlan
panajachel | guatemala
2026
A lancha is a small motorized boat that is a common form of transportation among the communities around Lake Atitlán.
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
tamales
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
tuk tuk
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
Tuk tuk is a small, three-wheeled motorized vehicle used for short-distance transport, common throughout Asia, Latin America, and parts of Africa. The name comes from the "tuk-tuk" sound made by early two-stroke engine versions.
san pedro la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san juan la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san juan la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
san juan la laguna | lake atitlan region
guatemala
2026
panajachel | late atitlan
guatemala
2026
escuela oficial rural mixta maya kaqchikel
solola | guatemala
2026
Students in this early elementary classroom are formally exposed to Kaqchikel, Spanish, and English.
corn fields
solola | guatemala
2026
santiago atitlán | guatemala
2026
church of santiago apóstol | parroquia de santiago apóstol
santiago atitlán | guatemala
2026
The Church of Santiago Apóstol in Santiago Atitlán, Guatemala, was built by Franciscan friars around 1547 on a site believed to have held a Mayan temple. Its twenty entrance steps echo the twenty day-signs of the Maya calendar — a subtle act of resistance to colonization. Today, the church retains deep ties to the Tz'utujil Maya community and represents a fusion of Catholic and Indigenous Maya beliefs.
volcan de picaya
guatemala
2026
la antigua | guatemala
2026
la antigua | guatemala
2026
el comalote - tortillería
la antigua | guatemala
2026
la antigua | guatemala
2026
arco de santa catalina
la antigua | guatemala
2026
A yellow arch built in the 17th century so cloistered nuns from the Santa Catalina convent could cross the street without being seen by the public.
long trip guatemala
2026
I returned from Guatemala thinking less about what I had learned and more about what I am still trying to understand.
Throughout the journey, I kept coming back to a question:
What happens when people create new possibilities for themselves while remaining deeply connected to the traditions, languages, relationships, and communities that have sustained them for generations?
That question came alive in many different places—from conversations with young Indigenous women and visits to schools, to farms and coffee fields, to the food, languages, and everyday life of the communities we encountered.
I was particularly moved by the work of MAIA Impact School, where young Indigenous women are being supported to imagine possibilities beyond the roles traditionally available to them while remaining rooted in their culture, language, and communities. It made me think about education not simply as opening doors, but as creating the relationships and conditions that allow young people to decide for themselves which doors they want to walk through.
I saw another expression of this at La Voz Que Clama en el Desierto, a Maya Tz'utujil coffee cooperative in San Juan La Laguna. Here, land, agricultural knowledge, economic opportunity, and collective ownership come together. The cooperative is rooted in tradition while actively creating something new—a reminder that cultural continuity and innovation do not have to be opposites.
And then there was corn.
Learning about the central role of corn in Guatemalan life helped me see it as something that can organize communities, connect generations, embody knowledge, and express relationships with the land. The idea that some of what is grown is shared not only among people but with animals stayed with me as a small but powerful expression of reciprocity.
It also brought me unexpectedly back to the Long Trip in Detroit and to something I once heard about activist and labor organizer, Grace Lee Boggs: her advice that if you want to do community work, learn how to grow your own food.
Food is never simply food. It is about land, labor, self-determination, relationships, and the ways communities build and sustain their own futures.
Across these experiences, I became increasingly interested in the space between tradition and change; and came home with stories, conversations, and moments that continue to shape how I think about community, education, culture, and possibility.