How many newcomers need to come to our country intending to stay before we see them as future citizens rather than “immigrants?” Though they come from many parts of the world, do we place them all under the same demographic umbrella? And once they’ve arrived, it may be hard to see where these people come from and notice certain differences. They are often viewed under one simple label, “immigrant.”
Here in Oregon, a community of people called Mam, an Indigenous group from northern Guatemala, are exemplifying and giving way to that idea. Perhaps as the new nomads of American society.
Throughout the years, Oregon has seen a gradual increase in the Mam community, mostly in Newport and the Cottage Grove areas. Speaking a Mayan language only a handful of the population know, their vernacular has demonstrated the challenges that people go through coming into a new country. However, some individuals and groups have helped along the way, not just helping them adjust but giving them their rightful representation.
“Guatemalans began to come to Oregon in the 1970s, fleeing the civil war,” Lynn Stephen says, referring to the Guatemalan civil war that lasted 36 years and killed over 200,000 people.
Stephen is a professor of anthropology at the University of Oregon and has worked with the Indigenous communities throughout Latin America living in diaspora, which in most cases are people fleeing their countries due to civil war, gang violence or domestic abuse, and coming to the U.S. seeking asylum.
The Guatemalan War created a mass genocide against the Maya people and their government, leaving millions to leave their homes, in most cases families, and head to North America to find refuge. But it also created a history of violence for those left behind. In some instances, domestic abuse without the help of family.
As Stephen’s work points out, she’s worked on individual cases with women fleeing the country because of domestic abuse and has done extensive research with transnational immigrants moving into the country.
“We kind of did oral history interviews of these women who wanted to file asylum cases,” Stephen says. “Because you have to create something called ‘the Declaration,’ which is your story about what happened to you and why you’re seeking asylum.”
She is referring to the Los Angeles Declaration on Migration and Protection, an executive action issued by President Joe Biden in 2022.
Under this new executive action, a person from another country goes through a “credible fear interview.” This involves an immigration officer asking a line of questions about why they’re seeking asylum in the country. If the officer deems the story credible, then that person will be able to go in front of a judge and start presenting their case.
However, not everyone reports these instances of domestic abuse, and some in the Mam community remain under the social radar.
“My dad was super violent, he left us with my mom when I was only six years old, and he was threatening to kill her if she didn’t leave the house,” says Abelio Carillo Chalas, a Mam from Todos Santos, Guatemala.
Chalas moved to Oregon with his mom in 2014 when he was 13 years old, hoping to find a better life in the U.S. He works with the Rural Organizing Project in Cottage Grove, a grassroots organization that helps the community with local projects and people from other countries settle in.
“When I got here I was in middle school, but it was really challenging,” Chalas says. He recalls how difficult it was for him and his mom to go out and participate with others then, there were only a small handful of people speaking and translating Spanish, and no one really spoke Mam.
Because Mam is an Indigenous language that comes from different areas throughout Central America, it can create a barrier for people like Chalas and his family here in the States. Among the languages spoken by immigrants that come into the U.S. the one ranking the highest is Spanish, according to a study done by the Pew Research Center.
However, like the Mam people of Guatemala, there’s a handful of Indigenous languages that are spoken in Oregon. But due to obstacles and certain limits that the state provides, in most cases, these Indigenous groups get categorized as Spanish speakers.
“The majority of them do speak Spanish, not as their first language, but many of them understand it,” Alex Llumiquinga says. He is a program manager at Arcoiris Cultural, a cultural center that supports the Latin American community in Lincoln City and Newport, including the Mam. Llumiquinga has been working with the Mam community for over a decade, helping them not just translate but also find their way into society.
Arcoiris Cultural, together with Olalla Center, has been providing services for the Lincoln County area since 1978. Groups like this and others like Pueblo Unido and Peggy’s Primary Connection in Cottage Grove try to provide a safe place for people that come from Latin American countries and don’t speak Spanish as their first language. However, because there’s a limit with interpreters in the state many migrants face barriers with medical care, education and even finding work.
“The Newport area is interesting because a lot of them coming here are cultivating a plant called salal,” Llumiquinga says. “It’s one of the main industries of the Mam population that comes here.”
Salal is a native plant or shrub that grows throughout the Pacific Northwest, and is sold in floral shops for decoration and bouquets. Llumiquinga says the plant is cultivated by most immigrants who live in Oregon, and most men in the Mam community start working there.
According to one of Lynn Stephen’s research projects, “Un Estados de Inmigrantes, Inmigrantes de Guatemala en Oregón: Solicitando Asilo y Sobreviviendo al Covid-19” (The State of Immigrants, Guatemalans in Oregon: Seeking Asylum, Surviving Covid-19), workers were paid an earning wage of about $2.25 per bunch in the summer of 2020. However, that number went down to $1.75 by March 2021, and depending on the price and the day’s haul, their earnings would range from $87.50-$100 a day.
“It’s not really a good pay unless you’ve been doing this for a while and know where to look for the plant,” Mauricia Cardona says. She’s a Mam translator and works with Llumiquinga at Arcoiris.
Cardona and her family, which included her father and younger sister of 11, are Mam that came from Guatemala. Together they would pick salal, pine cones and other various plants throughout Bend. She recalls living with 15 people in a house and would work long days just to make ends meet for her family.
She now lives in Newport with her husband and daughter and works with Llumiquinga at Arcoiris, helping families settle in and finding different resources they might need.
As of 2016, a survey by the Oregon Community Foundation together with Oregon State University, tracked and found that almost half a million Latinos live in Oregon, with those numbers growing or unaccounted for according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
Along with those numbers an average of 20.2 percent of Latino babies were born between 2020-2022, according to PeriStats, a data center through the March of Dimes that keeps track of perinatal births.
For many in the Mam community, particularly the women, they come to the U.S. seeking an alternative to health care and medicine for their children. Although for many the experience can be volatile.
“I was hungry, they gave us food, but it was cold and we in Guatemala eat hot things and drink hot water,” an anonymous mother says in Cultures of Birth, a documentary released in 2023 by Nurturely, a nonprofit working on perinatal health disparities in the Eugene community.
The movie reflects and compares Mayan mothers and their perinatal experience both in the U.S. and Guatemala. It interviews various Mam women in Oregon and conveys a personal story of some of the inequities that people go through giving birth.
“I actually had the opportunity to live and work alongside midwives (comadronas) in Todo Santos,” says Emily Little, founder and executive director of Nuturely. “Most importantly, from a perspective of racial equity and social inclusion.”
The documentary also shares some of the traditions that the Mam people have both before and after giving birth. Like giving birth at home with comadronas, eating only hot foods, staying at home and healing for a month, and getting temazcal baths.
Temazcal is a type of sweat lodge that people build and use to heal the body and soul. In this case, the lodge is filled with water and stones and a fire heats up to warm the bath. The recent mom then will bathe every eight days in this water with various herbs and plants to wash them.
However, for many of the moms in the Mam community, they found that they still needed modern medicine, and Nuturely helps these groups of women with their birthing experience.
“Being able to just see, as an outsider, how these practices are so critical for pregnancy and postpartum health in this thriving community from Guatemala, where comadronas lead the community based health care, where the community supports postpartum healing is so foundational,” Little says.
The story of the Mam community has no definitive ending. Like most immigrant stories, theirs will take time to develop and hopefully grow. One thing is certain though, that progress in this country is seen through the help of its community. To take the time and effort in helping your neighbor no matter where they come from. That “immigrant” isn’t just a word or label, but an actual experience and background that deserves our attention and care.
Those in the Mam community not only demonstrate this but are the results of the present-day immigrant. A race with its own culture, tradition and values. And hopefully with time, the word “immigrant” won’t just be a stigma, but a celebration to their name.