Freedom is just another word....

Week three in Mexico, and as I type this, a parade of thousands is marching by, celebrating the independence of Mexico. It has been an interesting week (as usual) only to be punctuated by this weekend’s festivities. Oventic was busy, full of activities such as mural design, weaving, theater planning, and then staying an extra night to attend a boot-making workshop on Saturday. Staying Friday night was really relaxing, about half the group stayed and most of the promotores leave, so it the campo pretty empty. The fog and the cows only added to the serenity of the evening. Saturday morning, the boot workshop was nothing as I expected. Warned  not to get too excited, as the boot makers where known to cancel at the last minute, I expected masked peoples giving out harsh orders and being very direct with group of 7 Americans. But I was wrong. The two out of the normally seven boot cooperative workers were really nice, friendly, and patient. They showed us the preliminary steps to cutting out the soles, cutting the leather, and then let us work away. It was a brief, but memorable experience, as I don’t think I own anything that I have actually seen where it has been made.

            That being said, there have been times when I feel so touristy and uncomfortable that the only thing I can do it turn off that part of my brain. For example, during the weaving, although it was cool to be able to make my own bag, having two indigenous women huddle around me and show me how to do their craft was not something I necessarily want to experience again (too bad! Cause weaving is every Tuesday from 5 pm- 7pm). Talking to Tony and other group members, I have come to the conclusion that even though the power dynamics remain in play (I am American and you are Indigenous. Show me your ancient crafts!!) the circumstances are different. We, as the MSN program, are here for global solidarity, at the invitation of the Oventic community. They want us here and hopefully our ganas to learn change the typical commodification aspects of white/Western travellers going to indigenous communities. That being said, especially while being San Cristobal do I feel very uncomfortable with my own presence in Mexico.

            San Cristobal, as I am learning each weekend, is a very interesting place. Even as I am typing this, the streets are jam packed with the conflicts and juxtaposition of a city newly found by foreigners and long occupied by rural Mexicans. Literally, I just watched a whole slew of armed Mexican soldiers go through the parade. It was about 20 minutes of people in camouflage holding giant guns, some on giant tanks, and then even more armed and uniformed military personnel. It is always hard to swallow the glorification of violence that western civilization has, but here in Chiapas, after watching documentaries about the atrocities the Mexican paramilitary and military groups have been apart of and have occurred in the past 10 years against indigenous peoples, it is almost too much to bear. Watching the military march by, fully clothed in the green foliage and green face paint only reminds me of the documentary I watched last week, in Oventic, about the paramilitary attacks that happened in 2005 and the faces of whole communities forced to leave their villages at the hands of the very same people marching past and being celebrated.

            Never being one for patriotism, days of “independence” have never sat well with me, regardless of where I am in the world. The visceral reaction to today’s parade and last nights madness I also felt on 4^th of July, on Nantucket, when I was 12. Seeing so many rich white people drink wine and shoot fire works while screaming “America!!” just didn’t sit well with me in 2006, and still today the feelings are the same. But, I am not Mexican, so this isn’t my country to hate on (and I don’t hate Mexico at all! I just am working through feelings of witnessing injustice and learning about the interconnectedness of the capitalist owning class) but yesterday, after coming down the mountain from Oventic, and landing straight into drunk independence celebration was pretty intense. Last night, seeing white tourists wearing sombreros with painted on moustaches was pretty intense. There were parts that were pretty fun. The whole zocalo was filled with food booths, and there lots of churros to be had. The live mariachi band was fun to dance to, although I had never in my life been as glad to be sober than last night. MSN program asks for us to be sober (for a variety of reasons, both stemming from safety and also respect) and I have no problem following the rules. Last night was a perfect example of why being not at all drunk was necessary. Extremely wasted men kept trying to get all up in our business, which is not at all something I am used too, especially when in big crowds listening to live music. Rereading that sentence makes it sound like I am being sarcastic, but I am not. Truthfully, I was very glad to be sober with three of programs male bodied people out with me as well.

            So I guess that is all. I had more eloquent things to say, but due to the large amounts of drumming and marching that has been happening for the past two hours it is hard express what else I want to say. So in conclusion, things are going. Going and going, weekends are weird in San Cristobal and really mellow in Oventic. Getting excited for travelling after the program and generally all the cool things I am learning. Aight y’all see you on da flip side.

Xxoo

Violeta

WEEK 2 Y'all!

OVENTIK/OVENTIC/OVENTIK/OVENTIC

Week two has come and gone, and as I sit in San Cristobal, on this sleepy Sunday, finishing up homework, hoping it doesn’t rain, I am having a hard time articulating what this past week has been like. For one, there is a need for security culture, meaning that because I am living in a community that has a volatile history and a need for privacy/a little bit of secrecy, I am not sure how comfortable I am sharing all the details of what I have been doing. Please don’t think that my lack of details means I am training for the revolution or doing anything subversive, it is more for respect for the Oventic community, which is full of inspiring men and women, both (very) young and old.  Second of all, I have four more weeks of living in Oventic, so I don’t feel like there is a rush to write anything at the moment. But what I will say is this: Oventic is nothing as I expected. The night before leaving, I was very nervous. The group discussion we had on how to behave and how the week will go painted a picture of strict militant adult figures, secrecy, and hard physical conditions (no hot water, no flush toilets, no mattresses). But, I was wrong. Oventic has so much heart and love, in my mind due to the large amount of children running around, the murals on every building reminding everyone why they are a part of the movement, and the beautiful surrounding green mountains.

            First, I’ll start off with the van ride up to Oventic from San Cristobal. An hour drive up the windy mountains in a van filled with 12 people is not for the weak stomached. But it was a beautiful drive, up a twisted mountain side, speckled with roadside fruit stands, children dressed colorfully playing with chickens, and pits of garbage sometimes on fire. The drive has shown me the “poverty” that I was expecting to see. The whole idea of poverty is complicated but I don’t want to get into that right now.  Pulling up to front gate and seeing my first actual Zapatista with the ski mask checking IDs and then getting in the van with us to direct us down the hill is a memory that I will never EVER forget. Anyways, in Oventic, I am staying in a room with my 11 other compañer@s with the actual community living right next door. Waking up to the sounds of a community happening, wood being split, babies crying, and chickens squawking has defined my mornings. The soft sounds of tzostil have become the soundtrack to my days.

            Meals are served 3 times a day and are very tasty. I am so happy I love beans, tortillas, and avocados or else this would be a long trip! Classes take up about half the day and then around 5 pm I am free to do what I please. My free time is spent looking at cows (why are they so beautiful??), walking around the campo, and reading. A lot of reading. Classes are interesting. Twice a week I have class with Tony and the other MSN people, discussing readings and how to bring the feelings of community and resistance home to our own places and the other 3 days I have Spanish class. The Spanish classes are taught by promotores also known as Oventic community members and focus a lot on Zapatista history and current issues in Mexico.

Oventic is also home to a secondary school for the surrounding towns, so we share the campo with 100 or so indigenous middle schoolers, many of whom are dressed in their “traditional” clothes. Sometimes we (MSN people) get to have activities with the secondary school kids. One day in particular we played a game that focused on using consensus to solve an issue (the Mexican government drops millions of pesos from the sky…what do you?) and then come to a solution in groups of 5 and then in the large group of 12 smaller groups. I was so amazed at the young boys an girls in my group wanted to leave the money where it was and not use it because “we are an autonomous community and have everything we need” and “the government has done nothing but harm our people and take away our land…it could be a trick.” Pretty inspiring anti-capitalist words from a bunch of young people…the struggle and fight for basic rights never ends for many communities across the world and I feel like I am here to listen. Listen and learn and see how I can be ally. Being an ally takes many forms, but I am not quite sure what they are yet. I have a whole three months to listen, question, and listen some more.

I have much more to say and many other feelings to articulate, but enough is enough. Here is to one more week filled with challenges (both good and bad), feelings of both complete isolation as well as being part of a close knit community and of course beans.

Love

Violeta 

p.s. photos will appear eventually, but google "oventic murals" to see some wonderful pieces of public art that I see every day