here the mountains are on fire

note: photo of the Sierra Norte found on the internet

back from the mountains of Tanetze. back to Oaxaca City. back to a place where it´s easier to disappear amidst tourists and internationals:

earlier this morning a man i assumed to be Mexican called out to me on the street in English, ¨hey mister, where are you from?¨ in Spanish i told him that i didn´t speak English. i wanted to access that cloak of normalcy that i put on (a power i´m used to having as a white man in the u.s.) whenever someone calls out my place in this world – here in Oaxaca as someone from the global north, and a wealthy economy sharing some of its stolen bounty with me, and likely to be unthreatened by an oppressive state government. it felt similar to when i walk around columbia heights, d.c. and someone calls me out on a bus or sidewalk – not from here, with more money it seems, likely to be unthreatened by fancy new restaurants or police officers. and after brushing this guy off a few minutes ago because i was in a rush to write this post i can´t help but find the unfortunate irony – i often wonder how best to make friends here, how easy it seems for folks to stop and talk to one another on the street, how i hate the alienation privilege tends to leave as collateral for some future fantasy land of success and unchallenged comfort…i promise myself that next time i´ll at least engage the situation, afterall that´s the best chance i have to move beyond assumptions and grow…

back in Tanetze, where the tall mountains of the Sierra Norte are spotted with pines and pumas, where the plants smell like night, and the clouds are always poised to wrap you in fog or wash away the sweat from your forehead – i lived and worked with Juan and Maria (a primary organizer of the women-run coffee cooperative, Yu-Van (¨living earth¨ in Zapoteco) for four full days…i carried lots of firewood, weeded beds of onion and picked oranges, appreciated the hours and hours of tedious work it takes to pick through coffee beans before they are roasted (i dreamt of green coffee beans one night after helping out), and chatted late into the night with a proudly campesino couple – my first night there covering the Iraq War, spirituality, my reasons for coming to Oaxaca, their reasons for loving life with the land in the campo…a far cry and refreshing relief from the initial small talk i´m accustomed to…and full of learnings:

-Tanetze de Zaragoza is a small Zapotec community found six-hours from Oaxaca City up winding moutain roads ready to greet you with a waterfall or frozen breeze. for generations the community has been organized through some variation of usos y costumbres, the name given to indigenous self-governance here in Mexico, which includes general town meetings to make decisions on public works, celebrations, and conflicts that need resolution. it also tends to come with high-levels of accountability for any chosen representatives of the community – Juan told me an elected leader gets three chances and if they still aren´t representing the majority they get replaced.

-Yu-Van does have to struggle with this tradition though as well…women weren´t direct participants in Tanetze´s usos y costumbres governance. but Juan for one, an active proponent of Tanetze´s history of autonomy and self-organization, is learning to embrace the work of the cooperative and support the changing roles in the community that it encourages.

-Mexcio City´s attempts to dismantle Tanetze´s self-sufficiency intensified in the early nineties (can´t imagine this is unrelated to NAFTA) and various indigenous pueblos in the Sierra around Tanetze organized to resist…followed by jailings, disappearances and harassment of activists. And the Catholic Church, at this time purged of its more social justice oriented theology, either stood by or was complicit. in Tanetze i was told that now Sundays aren´t met with nearly as many loyal followers.

-last year when the teacher´s encampment was attacked on June 14th, hundreds of thousands of Oaxacañ@s from towns like Tanetze made the long journay to Oaxaca City to participate in a struggle that soon took on much more than the demands of the teachers. what would bring people from far and wide in the U.S., ready to give up everything and contribute to a struggle for something better…what would bring you…what history do we have to tap into that makes a world we create for ourselves not only desirable but as necessary for our living as oxygen?

-now Tanetze and other towns are found with an increased state police presence (police watching as each bus comes into town).

but as i was told, the land still provides. each day i was able to look out the kitchen window and see all of the food on my plate in its original form (corn, beans, peppers, fruit, squash). the generations of skill passed down to provide this type of security was the empowerment money only promises, and it felt like something worth fighting for. ´cause the land sends us a message of hope – fruit trees take years after they´re planted before they are harvested, plants and animals die around us but their bodies and spirits feed our lives, and sometimes we have to find the faith that our efforts bloom long after we know what it means to dig our fingers down deep into the dirt.

people in Tanetze are still traveling back and forth across a dangerous border thousands of miles away to make life possible here for friends and family, and communties in the Sierra Norte are still organizing – from my short visit i saw so many that hadn´t even considered giving up, there is land to care for.

i´ll be in Oaxaca City at least for the next week, meeting with an organization that does work around masculinity and gender violence (more to come), and planning for a visit to the Istmo near Chiapas, where support around community radio programming has been requested…here are some previous CASA articles that you may find interesting…

Reflections on Gender Construction in Oaxaca and Chiapas

When the Wind Blows, the Cradel Will Rock (some background on the struggles in the Istmo)

-Patrick

P.S. Check out the two new responses to our survey…

off to the sierra…

 

the graffiti here tells a story.  one of late night resistance and early morning whitewashing.  the stencils appear one day and disappear the next.  the words of people unable to live as before made paint.

yesterday i was able to read and help with the translation of CASA´s book of first-hand testimonials from the movement last year.  this is powerful stuff – priests backed by a theology of liberation, old women wearing disguises to continue their confrontations of an invading police force, indigenous leaders reflecting on the inner-workings of the APPO and what makes it something unique, organic and real…i am humbled by the adversity withstood, awed by the analysis, and inspired by the action, when the book comes out i´m sure these sentiments will be shared…

…also met with a member of the Mal de Ojo video collective, a sponteanously formed group of journalists, activists here and abroad, and longtime producers of video, that came together to document and educate a struggle.  it was interesting to learn about the role of street vendors in so widely distributing the documentation of repression and resistance, and learn that when women took over a primary television station last August this documentation was an integral part of the lineup…t.v. is either delusion or direction, depending on who´s behind the camera…what would you say to thousands of viewers, what are you longing to share and support?…another project of one of the member organizations of Mal de Ojo is focused on archiving thousands of hours of video footage filmed over the last few decades from indigenous communities in the mountains around Oaxaca…cultural heritage, language and structure being sucked north with migration while the waste of capitalism is sent south (cheap corn, roads destroying what they take people to see, and activists like myself hoping to be something else)…films that help us reflect on what was, what´s changing and what could be…

…speaking of which, today i head off to Tanetze de Zaragoza, where a women-lead coffee cooperative is located in a small Zapotec community…in the early 90´s coffee prices went down (in large part due to cheap coffee being imported to the US via Vietnam – from USAID grants prioritizing monoculture, chemicals and shade-less production) and many of the men from Tenetze de Zaragoza headed to Mexico City and the US to find work and money to send home (an expensive gamble)…the women left in the community organized and now sell coffee, honey and other products here in Oaxaca City organic market (one of the most beautiful markets i´ve ever visited…a rainbow of color atop deep red clay still stuck to my shoes as i type, and reflected in a pond thick with fish) where mostly expats, tourists, and middle and upper-class Oaxacans shop…i´ve been graced with the chance to travel up into the mountains with the woman largely responsible for organizing the cooperative…to learn about what patterns of immigration look like on the other side of the Shenandoah Valley and Northern Virginia, and to offer whatever help i can with the farmwork…i´ll be out of touch until next Friday most likely…

the other folks here in the CASA circle, some volunteers and visitors, are giving me the support i need to not dwell on homesickness, and be patient while my work here is finalized…there´s a lot of knowledge and experience around me, and i feel really, really good…yesterday i felt no chill watching fog surround the mountain tops, a breeze that reminded me of Fall back home – the years growth on the ground, an uncertain movement through earth ahead, and good things green and strong to come…a struggle to prepare for…

Patrick

P.S. i´ll be posting more survey results soon…i hope to hear from you all (and thanks so much to those that have sent me a piece of their lives electronically)

¿Qué nos da la inspiración?

Finding my Spanish de nuevo.  Wearing a sweater stung by bits of rain saying hello from Hurricane Dean.  Reflective after visiting a memorial to Lorenzo Sampablo Cervantes in the Zócalo, an APPO organizer killed by an URO (Ulises Ruiz Ortiz, repressive governor of Oaxaca) death squad one year ago.  There are few assasinations now, but the memories of a missing and missed 28 still invades the memory of the movement here.

Last night Casa Chapulin (a split-level house in a mixed-class neighborhood; there´s a self-suficiency on our block rarely found in the States -tortillas, carpentry, car repairs, and cheese is offered by neighbors) was visited by a friend of CASA – an organizer from Section 22 of the teacher´s union (dwindling in numbers as the pro-government union recruits), a participant and leader of last year´s marches, a teacher of preschool, and a veteran of struggles for indigenous justice in Oaxaca.  He came by to chat, and to review and sign a letter written to the editors of La Barrikada – a magazine from APPO put together primarily by male college students and friends of CASA, with the latest issue using the picture of an overtly sexualized women wearing a gas mask (titled ¨la niña de APPO¨) to sell their essays on the struggle.  The letter has been a topic of the house, written by the field coordinator here with CASA, and thoroughly making the connection between a need to address sexism and the objectification of women´s bodies and the fight to challenge an objectification of Oaxacan culture, land and peoples under neoliberal capitalism.  More to come on this, and what that infamous word ¨solidarity¨might look like,  soon.

But our visitor stayed after we watched the video Compromiso Cumplido (covering the human rights abuses of the state government in responding to the social movement here, by Mal de Ojo) to chat with us about questions we might have – and generous enough to stick around for well over an hour.  Here are some of the key learnings that I took away from what he, and others said (not intended to be a broad analysis):

• People are scared. The repression of Nov. 25th and thereafter (from the federal police) served it´s function to some degree.  There is confusion within the representatives of APPO as to what to do next, there hasn´t been a general meeting since November, and the organizations comprising APPO seem to be doing their work seperately.  Zaachila, outside of Oaxaca City, is holding on after electing to be governed by a popular assembly rather than by centralized state authority.
• URO is a symbol, and the marches of last year represented a long-held frustration with coersive and corrupt state power.  The teachers were surprised by the more general support they received from the Oaxacan population after June 14th, and the chants to take down URO came from the friends, families, and neighbors of the teachers.
• It´s a widely held belief here that the PFP (the federal police) would not have entered Oaxaca on Nov. 25th had it not been for the murder of the U.S. indymedia journalist Brad Will (ie, the feds had to move and take control after the death of a gringo).  The PFP facilitated the attack on the movement which most stomped on hope for a protracted fight.  The paramilitary killings ended then as well, for the time being.  And hundreds were arrested.  And Will´s death also brought along international attention. 
• But when asked what international activists can do here now - his response was hesitant, and focused on the fact that human rights abuses here in Oaxaca can´t be challenged internationally while the much greater Iraq War can´t be stopped by the largely held anti-war sentiment in the U.S.  He challenged us think about how to build a movement back in the States that could withstand repression, and win an end to the war.
• When asked about the legal process to document the abuses and hold perpetrators accountable, there was an acknowledgement that the courts don´t have justice to offer.
• Where does he find the inspiration to continue struggling?  In the reality that little has changed since the movement began, in the hope of digging deep over the next decades to spread the movement outside of Oaxaca City, connecting with indigenous struggles in el campo…right now this seems to be a central question…¿Qué nos da la inspiración?

I´m reminded of a quote from the filmaker Godfrey Reggio that introduced my last journal  – ¨In order to have hope we must find the courage to be hopeless.¨  This courage would be a window to new possibilities, directions, and strategies; it would force us to depend on our own two hands, and our abilitity to grasp those of someone close to us. 

-Patrick

PS – let me know what you find interesting, boring, relevant, not, etc.

Protests Against Mexican Governors in Chicago, New York and Dallas

These were major news in Mexico, and here in Oaxaca, check out the link (under news and education) to El Enemigo Comun to read more. I´m curious how the movement here responds to these actions though…

-Patrick

Travelin´ well…

Here I am.  Fighting off a sleepiness that makes me wonder if I should be composing this now.  But looking out to a view similar to the one you see above, my head is clear and ready:

I have to start with my ¨travel well¨ BBQ back in DC, as it´s still on my mind - 

Sometimes it`s hard to remember that we matter.  I often forget that my days affect people, touch people even.  It´s easy to struggle in the world feeling alone; on occasion I find myself with a despair that can eat at my motivation to struggle at all.  That feels distant now, even as I sit thousands of miles from the site of a BBQ that gathered people in DC that I wish I could´ve taken with me. 

These are people who, among others, wanted to say goodbye to me before I left to Oaxaca.  I want them to be here with me because they are fierce organizers, friends and mentors.  They care about their fellow tenants in their apartment buildings, they care about violence against women and racism, they care about me even.  That´s the hard part to remember, the part that makes me feel self-indulgent.  And the part that gives me a chance to stay awake while working and playing for something as big and bigger than myself, something worth caring for.  As I overheard from a friend quoting a Native American punk band´s intersong banter, ¨we think we should all live in communities based on respect.¨ Simple. 

Here´s my list of reasons for coming down here in the first place:

• The organization CASA (Colectivos de Apoyo, Solidaridad y Acción) needs volunteers to do their work supporting Mexican-based social movements based in indigenous communities, and educating international activists.

• The recent genesis of the Popular Assembly of the People’s of Oaxaca serves as a model for broad-based autonomous struggle and I hope to learn lessons that can be applied to movements here in the States.

• My organizing back home in Virginia will benefit from my experiences in Oaxaca – In the Shenandoah Valley small farmers lost ground as industrial-agriculture became king, and real estate developers are now ferociously seizing land for the construction of large expensive subdivisions, and theme parks designed to develop a tourist economy. In connection to this development, state and corporate interests consistently promote the expansion of Interstate 81. If carried through, this expansion would further disrupt Virginia’s rural communities, and expand on the suburban sprawl from Northern Virginia that leaves little room for low-income and working class families. In Oaxaca, there is a proposed superhighway that would similarly serve corporate interests and hurt everyday people; maquiladoras would continue to fill the economic void created by U.S. and PRI supported neoliberal policies hurting small farmers and communities.

• Through a desperate migration north the people of Oaxaca are influencing the direction of the place where I find my deepest roots and commitments; they are also powerful resources and potential allies. I want to make connections with immigrant justice work on this side of the border, and learn how to be supportive upon my return

• My Spanish needs a kick in the butt. I have the mobility and financial privilege at this point in my life to make this trip possible, and with the support of others I hope to make it responsible to change larger than myself.

And some of the concreate goals I´m trying to meet while here:

-Engage with radical organizers here in Oaxaca to get feedback from the questions mentioned in our survey

-Make contacts in the communities here in Oaxaca where many immigrants in the Harrisonburg area are from

-Learn new skills as a trainer and teacher, observing and engaging with the training and teaching going on within social movements here

-Report on ways lessons learned here can be applied back in Virginia

-Use my skills to support the social movements here

-Stay sober (there´s no moment of this I want to miss, and when I´m homesick the temptation to fall back on previous habits is forcefull)

And now that I am here to make my goals real –  through the haze above Mexico City and after 7 hours on a bus driving South (complete with Shaggy Dog dubbed in Spanish), I have a journey to turn around and reflect on, and one ahead to prepare for.

Getting off the plane at the airport the metro is easily found and I make my way to the bus station.  During rush hour there are green signs above two different walkways, one which reads ¨mujeres y niños¨ and another reading ¨hombres.¨ I wonder if this seperation down a gender binary is followed?  I wonder how many white americans see these and think to themselves, ¨wow, things must be bad here¨?  I wonder if I thought that too?  I wonder where the intiative to create these two walkways came from?  I wonder if they´re protected by the same cops that keep women with their children from asking for money outside the subway cars?  I don´t know anything.  At this point I am only noticing.   

Before boarding the ADO bus that will take me to Oaxaca in much more luxory than Greyhound, a man looks at me, turns to his friend assuming that I don´t speak Spanish and says, ¨Not many white folks in Oaxaca now.¨ His friend replies, ¨But it´s good that he´s going then.¨  I  then ask them both why they think there aren´t many white folks in Oaxaca, they answer, surprised and embarassed that I understood them, with the assurance that, ¨oh, they´re there.¨  Once I find my seat this man hands me his card, the director of a resort on the beach in Puerto Escondido.  [looking out the window of this internet cafe there´s no shortage of white american tourists here, and they pass by the wondering riot cops nonchalantly as they take pictures of old churches]

As we pull into the city late at night, a statue of Benito Juarez, ¨independent¨ Mexico´s first president, a Oaxacan,  stands tall and bronze above the quote, ¨the secret to peace is respecting the rights of the other.¨  Simple.

-Patrick

The Struggle for Immigrant Justice in Virginia

Amidst my trip preparations, immigrants, activists, workers, and community members are coming together to fight the racist anti-immigrant legislation that came out of Prince William County last month.  This struggle has implications for the rest of my homestate, and the country as a whole.  For more information on how to become involved in Virginia, contact The People United at (434) 906-0421 or info@thepeopleunited.org, or see the links below:

 A story from Beltway Area Indymedia detailing the organized response to legislation in Prince William County, Va. which would deny county services to those who could not prove their legal status, and force county police to check the immigration status of anyone detained.

Mexicans Without Borders website

 -Patrick