Led by Sebastian, at 6am on Mother's Day, we walked up the Río Negro mountain trail to Pacoxom, the site where the March 13th massacre occurred. Back in 1982, Sebastian, only 16 years old, was told by his mom, "Run! Hide! They are coming!" Sebastian listened, reluctantly, and took to the hills. What he witnessed on that day was the end of the remaining community members. Since the village men had all been killed (75-80 individuals) just weeks before on February 12th in the neighbouring village of Xococ, only women and children remained. Soldiers and the CDP marched the women up the mountains in the heat of noon and carried out a brutal slaying. Sebastian hid, but could hear the sounds of women being raped and witnessing the murder of their loved ones. In the end, a heap of bodies, some barely alive, lay in a ditch. Eighteen boys were kidnapped, among them Jesús Tecú Osorio, and few managed to run for their lives. Although fearful, that afternoon Sebastian and the few other survivors returned to the horrific site and saw the horrible and brutal result. Among the bodies, lay his mother.

At this burned snag, soldiers demanded that the women dance. Words cannot describe the feeling I had, and still have, when I think of this event.
(Photo credit: JP Laplante)

Catherine, walking the same path as the mothers of Río Negro, carried with her images of her children along with the Mother's Day cards that they gave her prior to her departure.

"The CDP of Xococ on the 13th of March carried out a massacre of 70 women 107 boys and girls by force."

"Never again. On the 13 of March 1982 70 women and 107 boys and girls were massacred by force by the CDP of Xococ."

The ditch where the women and children were thrown - now a memorial site for annual gatherings on the anniversary of the massacre.

The trees which stood witness to the events of March 13th, were used to kill the women and children. They also live with the memory.

Sebastian stands alongside his family's memorial plaque.

Memorial plaque created by families who return and remember.

On the boat ride back to the van, Sebastian's son Nelson, who we called El Capitan, helped us to smile.