He speaks the local Kaqchikel Mayan language and is also fluent in Spanish, the language of government and trade.

Today more than ever, elements of a global popular culture have become commonplace in even the most remote corners of the world.

As a result of this versatility, he was elected to represent the village to municipal authorities in the town of Tecpán.

Yet this is unpaid service, and so to earn a living — like his father and his grandfather before him — Mr. Ordoñez grows corn and beans, squash and tomatoes. These are the native crops that have sustained the Maya for millennia.

Making the best of new markets

But Ordoñez, like many of his neighbors here in Guatemala, has begun to swap some of his beans and corn for broccoli, mini-zucchinis and other exotic crops, which are grown for export to the United States and Europe.

With earnings from these new cash crops, Mr. Ordoñez has been able to buy a pick-up truck to haul his produce directly to packing plants.

Globalized desires

He even has a cell phone of sorts — a car phone rigged to a battery and occupying the centerpiece of the dining table. He uses it to check prices — and to make sales.

Guatemala was long dependent on the traditional exports of coffee, bananas and sugar, which left its economy at the mercy of price fluctuations in the world market.

Some of his fellow villagers have not fared as well, a few suffering devastating losses at the hands of cut-throat intermediaries and market fluctuations.

Yet, overall, Ordoñez and other poor, rural Maya farmers see tapping into this new market as an asset — a potentially lucrative, if risky endeavor.

Studies of globalization often treat it as a one-way process: the march of progress emanating from the West crushes cultural diversity and imposes homogeneity on the rest of the world.

Risky choices

Certainly, today more than ever, elements of a global popular culture have become commonplace in even the most remote corners of the world.

And sure enough, in Tecpán, one finds the ubiquitous symbols of multinational conglomerates, such as Coke's suggestively curvaceous bottles, as well as bold red and white packs of Marlboro cigarettes.

Beyond dependency

But one also finds houses connected to an improvised cable system that broadcasts the Cartoon Channel and HBOlé. There are adolescents infatuated with international pop stars such as Los Backstreet Boys — and young children engrossed in the remote worlds of Japanese animated characters.

Maya farmers are simply doing what their ancestors have done for centuries: adapting to western capitalism — and interpreting it through an indigenous lens.

To say that such elements of an aspiring global hegemony are imposed upon local cultures ignores important aspects of individual desire. And it neglects the ways in which globalization can actually strengthen local traditions.

Guatemala was long dependent on the traditional exports of coffee, bananas and sugar, which left its economy at the mercy of price fluctuations in the world market.

Yet, over the last 20 years the country has diversified its economy, encouraging all sorts of non-traditional exports.

Sweatshops and veggies

Leading these new exports is apparel assembled in maquilas, the sweatshop factories where much brand-named clothing is manufactured.

Following close behind is an increased production of broccoli, snow peas and other non-traditional agricultural exports, which benefit from favorable growing conditions in Guatemala's western highlands.

Farming in Tierra Fría

Ever wonder how grocery stores now manage to keep all kinds of produce on their shelves year-round? Welcome to highland Guatemala, the land of "eternal spring" (as tourist brochures advertise). Only up at this altitude, it's more like a land of eternal winter crops.

Surveys show that Maya farmers see non-traditional agriculture as a positive thing — a strategy for holding on to their farms and, in the process, making a little money.

As it turns out, the consistent chilly temperature of the tierra fría around Tecpán perfectly suits cold crops — and local farmers have been quick to branch out into this new and profitable niche.

Some critics of non-traditional production fear that it is simply a new form of the same old economic colonization that has gone on in Guatemala for years: getting poor Maya peasants to grow food for the United States.

Worth the risk

It is commonly argued that these rural farmers do not understand the risks of new global markets, so when prices fall, they stand to get burned.

But scholar and consultant Guillermo Rodríguez, who is from Tecpán, cautions not to patronize these farmers: "It's not true that they don't understand the risks. They do understand what the risks are.

Change is good?

If you analyze the costs of old-line production of beans, of corn, these really aren't profitable either. They never have been. But these new crops provide some benefit to families."

Many farmers in Guatemala have begun to swap beans and corn for broccoli, mini-zucchinis and other exotic crops grown for export.

By and large, surveys show that Maya farmers see non-traditional agriculture as a positive thing — an alternative strategy for holding on to their farms and, in the process, making a little money.

But going after non-traditional agriculture is indeed riskier. Chemical pesticides and fertilizers are necessary but costly.

Bruised fruit

And because they are growing their crop for export, quality is of paramount importance. Many farmers complain of having some of their crop rejected at market for minor cosmetic blemishes.

That frustration, coincidentally, is not unlike that of European farmers in dealing with their market authorities.

The good, the bad — and the future

Despite all the transformation, argues Harvard University anthropologist Peter Benson, Guatemala's way of tapping into globalization is not simply eroding local Maya culture.

To say that global hegemony is imposed upon local cultures neglects the ways which globalization can actually strengthen local traditions.

That there is now a fried chicken chain restaurant in Tecpán has not diminished the cultural importance of corn and tortillas for local families.

Farmers have not stopped growing corn and beans, even though they now also plant broccoli and snow peas. Of course, it is not all rosy. A few street gangs now roam the streets of Tecpán at night. Crime is on the rise — and an elder generation laments that young people today aren't following traditions as they should.

Like father, like child

Amidst all this, Serapio Ordoñez and other Maya farmers are simply doing what their ancestors have done for centuries. They are adapting to circumstances imposed upon them to their own ends.

They co-opt western capitalism — and interpret it through an indigenous lens. And, with a bit of luck and a lot of hard work, they will build a better future for their children.

Edward F. Fischer is Associate Director of the Center for Latin American and Iberian Studies at Vanderbilt University, where he teaches anthropology.