We Don’t Need Saviors, We Need Allies!
“We are not in nature—we are nature. We are Earth and Water.”
In this issue, we continue our report from our conversation with Juan Manuel (JM) from Taa'pi't in San Pedro La Laguna on Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. The interview was conducted and transcribed by Cilla Utne from an interview with JM earlier this spring.
The interview has been synthesized and translated from Spanish.
From Local Regulation to National Vision
In our last New Moon blog, we reported on a local law that states "Regulation for the Ecological Rights of the Grandmother of Lake Atitlán"
JM of Taa’pi’tI continues: In this context, "Grandmother" refers to the lake itself, viewed with deep respect and spiritual reverence in the Mayan worldview.
This specific local law for San Pedro La Laguna, is grounded in Guatemala’s national constitution and international environmental treaties. It’s localized, yes, but it’s designed as a model—a spark to ignite similar movements across other towns and lakes.
JM: This is entirely aligned with Taa’pi’t’s mission: to protect ancestral knowledge, promote environmental and spiritual integrity, and educate the next generation within their indigenous worldview. However, this journey isn’t ours alone. Without alliances—especially with the municipality—none of this would be sustainable. We now have access to legal, human, and even limited financial resources to take action.
Government Contradictions and Indigenous Resistance
In Guatemala, ecological and cultural activism from indigenous peoples is not new. Many defenders have lost their lives protecting forests, rivers, and mountains. Entire communities have been evicted for standing in defense of sacred lands. The state plays a contradictory role. On one side, it supports transnational corporations, using the military and legal system to criminalize land defenders. On the other, it creates ministries and commissions, such as AMSCLAE, tasked with environmental oversight around Lake Atitlán. Yet, the results are often minimal or symbolic. Their own office in Panajachel, for example, still dumps untreated sewage into the lake.
CCJ: Are there other NGOs like Taa'pi't in Guatemala?
JM: There are many NGOs around the lake, but not all have genuine intentions or authentic ties to Mayan communities. We, the indigenous people, can feel when interest is superficial.
CCJ: What makes you unique?
JM: What makes Taa’pi’t different is that we are a formally structured, community-rooted, culturally grounded organization. We educate children—something few others in the lake basin are doing. And unlike external programs, our pedagogy is built from Mayan cosmovision.
We Are Earth and Water
In Guatemala, JM tells us, our elders teach us: “We are earth and water.”
JM: We do not just live in nature. We are nature. This understanding forms the moral framework of our society: Mother Earth, Brother Tree, Sister Water—we are a family. A family protects, respects, and nurtures each other. This is not just environmental education. It is spiritual ecology, and it is radically different from mainstream systems that reduce the earth to a “resource” to be extracted and sold.
Despite this, governments—both local and national—have historically distributed synthetic fertilizers throughout the lake basin, despite knowing they are the primary cause of contamination. The contradiction lies in corruption and profit, not ignorance. And this is not hidden; it is widely known.
The Power of Global Exchange
Despite all this, hope continues to arrive—not just from within, but also from beyond.
CCJ: Earlier this spring, in March of 2025, Taa’pi’t hosted a group of students from the University of Washingtons Foster School of Business, participating in a field study course that brought together a diverse group students from various countries, including China. Tell us about how that was for you.
JM: The exchange was a mutual learning experience that deeply impacted both sides. These students arrived expecting something unfamiliar—and found it. They visited multiple indigenous-led organizations and saw alternative ways of organizing society and economy, rooted in culture and ecology. They didn’t just observe—they participated. They lived without luxury, shared our daily life, and adapted.
Of course, the tour had its’ set of common issues of traveling in a more challenging environment, but JM tells us their presence was motivating for their students and children.
JM: The students brought curiosity, respect, and encouragement, reinforcing the idea that our culture and programs matter—not only here, but globally. Our parents saw this. In a society where Mayan culture has been rejected and marginalized by the national education system and dominant religions, international interest serves as powerful validation.
A Call to All Who Listen
CCJ: Why are these intercultural and educational exchanges important?
JM: For us, these exchanges aren’t charity—they’re acts of solidarity, of healing, and recognition. Our work at Taa’pi’t is not just about farming, teaching, or policy. It is about reweaving the torn fabric of ancestral identity, ecological harmony, and cultural sovereignty. We don’t need saviors. We need allies.
CCJ: What message or question are you taking away from the experience?
JM: To those in Guatemala, across Central America, or beyond—if you see value in this path, let it inspire similar movements in your regions. We invite others to learn with us, walk beside us, and carry forward the understanding that we are not in nature—we are nature.