Success story
The Q’eqchi’ Women - Journal of an Encounter in Guatemala
It all began in Antigua, amidst the bustle of preparations. Every step had to be carefully planned to make the most of the few days ahead: scheduling meetings, structuring interviews, and most importantly, understanding my role in this project. Learning to listen. Sharing without erasing. It was in this context that I met Claudia, a young Q’eqchi’ woman involved with Na’leb’ak, a cooperative that partners with the Volunteer Cooperation Program. Through her work mobilizing communities, three participants agreed to take part in the interviews. Three women, three stories to hear. I had the feeling this project would change me.
A few days later, we took the road to Chisec, in the department of Alta Verapaz. The landscape changed quickly. The city bore the visible marks of rapid modernization, but also of deep-rooted inequalities shaping daily life. But it was only by leaving the urban centres, winding through mountainous roads, that I truly grasped the quiet strength of this region.
As the day broke over the misty mountains, children clung to the backs of trucks on their way to school. These simple scenes gave resilience a tangible meaning: that of women, families, and communities who keep moving forward, no matter what.
Our first visit was to Na’leb’ak’s office. This women-led cooperative supports other young Indigenous women in developing their skills and autonomy. Backed by the Volunteer cooperation program (VCP), it offers practical training and close mentorship. The welcome was modest, but warm. The space—simple yet full of life—radiated commitment. Every detail reflected a grassroots approach, working with and for young women.
I met the participants: young women, barely 18 years old, shy at first, but curious and determined. Just being in that room was already a powerful act. A statement. A desire to tell their stories differently.
The next day, I led a workshop on photography and videography. It was a first for me—especially in Spanish—but their attentiveness, curiosity and engagement immediately put me at ease. Soon, the initial shyness gave way to genuine smiles. We talked, experimented, laughed. The group photos broke the ice. It wasn’t just about learning how to frame an image—it was about taking control of a tool to tell their world in their own way. Claudia and Irma, in particular, showed deep commitment. The drone amazed them, but more than the technology, it was the chance to see their environment from a new perspective that truly moved them.
The following day, Claudia and Irma brought us to the communities. We visited Romelia, a 19-year-old, and her family. They welcomed us into their home with disarming simplicity. Romelia spoke Q’eqchi’, as most people here do. Claudia translated, but smiles and gestures often said enough. Their hospitality left a deep impression on me. We talked about culture, work, and the land.
Romelia took us through the fields. Here, agriculture is subsistence-based and passed down from childhood. Though harvests are modest, they provide a form of autonomy. At every stop, a fruit picked, a gift offered. I had come to teach, yet I was the one receiving lessons in humility.
Later, in another home, we met Lesvia, 17, passionate about crochet. She spoke to us about her daily life calmly, with quiet confidence. Her home was full of life, and despite the noise and movement around her, she remained focused. Her father watched silently. In this region, girls sometimes contribute to the family income through their skills. But what I witnessed went beyond contribution—it was pride, creativity, and agency.
Thanks to the training provided by Na’leb’ak and supported by the VCP, Lesvia and other young women are acquiring concrete technical skills. This enables them to generate their own income, take part in community life, and build their futures on their own terms.
As I photographed Lesvia, her sister, and then three generations of women knitting together, I realized these images wouldn’t just be memories. They carried a perspective. A voice. A message.
On the last day, we met Laura Carolina, 16. Through her sewing training with Na’leb’ak, she had already sold one of her creations. Beside her, her mother stood quietly, watching with a reserved smile. Laura embodies this generation of young women who move forward, despite the challenges. Step by step, they gain independence, organize, and support one another.
Before heading back to Cobán, I took my final shots. Misty landscapes, simple moments of daily life. Everything I wanted to carry back with me—not as a souvenir, but as food for thought.
This project was an enriching and transformative experience, turning stress and routine into unique and lasting memories. The resilience and generosity of the Q’eqchi’ women left a profound mark on me, offering a true lesson in humility and humanity.
