The circle of faces - both old and young - around Rodolfo observe a respectful silence as he concludes his story about Kerem Ka'al the Sun-Boy. It is an old Mayan tale about the birth of the sun and the moon, about an elder brother who went out to collect honey with his little brother. The younger child did most of the work but the elder took all the honey since he was bigger and stronger and could climb to the top of the tree. Those listening can relate to this sort of thing, it's a pretty close description of their relationship to those in government. Many nod their heads in agreement with what they interpret as a poetic representation of contemporary suffering.
[ web maintainers note - what is presumably the same story is also related as being told by a Commadante Samuel in another community at the end of this essay ]
Outside the Sacred Mother spills her light over the muddy fields of the community. She is the Mayan moon, represented in the story by the younger of the two brothers. Rodolfo's story has a twist in the tail. The younger boy conspires with the moles so that they dig right under the roots of the tree his brother has climbed high up in order to get at the delicious honey. Oppression is finally ended when the tree comes crashing down under its own weight. Everybody claps and cheers, and goes home to bed. They'll be up at five the following morning to bring in the last of the crop of beans from underneath the towering maize plants.
Things have become a little easier in the village recently since the electric light returned. The locals fixed it up themselves with what few materials they had access to. I make a mental note to ask Rodolfo what significance this artificial wonder might possibly have in his story. Somehow I feel quite certain he would manage to incorporate into the legend with consummate ease. In contrast to what State Governor Albores claims, the indigenous people do appreciate technological progress - they just want to enjoy it on their own terms.
Further into the Lacandon Jungle, other Indians are fighting to stop Federal soldiers from building a road through their community. It will increase the already massive militarisation here, but the real reason behind it is oil. Amid suspicions that the Tabasco oilfields may shortly run dry, the state oil company Pemex and various firms from north of the border are looking towards the indigenous lands around Ocosingo with increasing interest. That's why paratroopers suddenly dropped in on the inhabitants of Amador Hernandez just a couple of weeks ago, with large numbers of infantry coming in behind them. They are equipped with sinister gas canisters made in the USA and labelled "lethal weapon" - it's rumoured to be some kind of nerve gas that paralyses those who come into contact with it. Yet so far the locals have managed to hold them back with only stones and mud balls. The soldiers are beginning to get frustrated.
In Diez de Abril the last lights are switched out, and the community snuggles into a cosy darkness. The sun will rise again tomorrow.