Showing posts with label 2006. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2006. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Zapata Instructions

Zapata léase instrucciones, Buscando a Zapata Series, Oaxaca, 2010.

Our back and forth travels lately have left me with little time to write so I apologize de antemano for la tardanza with this post. 

Now only a few weeks from el grito commemorating the 200th anniversary of Mexico's Independence, and with this year also marking the 100th anniversary of la Revolución, it is, I think, appropriate that Zapata makes another appearance on this blog. One of my favorite, along with the Zapata Punk that no longer exists, in my Buscando a Zapata series, this mural sits inside a house nestled in the middle of our currently chaotic city of Oaxaca. Sometimes I think it might do better sitting outside where people can see and read it... A reminder of where we are 100 years later.

As for the chaos...
Transportation costs went up 64% from one day to the next with bus fares going from 4.50pesos a few days ago to 7pesos. Yesterday the streets were blocked everywhere, making it impossible for people to get from one place to another. We got home just in time for it...WELCOME TO OAXACA!

This is not the first time I see Oaxaca on foot, but the mere scale of this time's street blockades was much larger than I have ever seen except for the 2006 uprising. Traffic seems to be flowing today, and negotiations between state 'regulators' and the transportation companies have cut the initial increase to 22%, 1 peso for the time being... Still, it does make you wonder how much can be squeezed out of people, many of whom could barely pay the previous fee... 

In the meantime... Zapata con todo e instrucciones!


Thursday, June 3, 2010

Zapata en Chiapas


Zapata en San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas

I first traveled to San Cristobal in the summer of 2006 amidst the Oaxacan movement. To be completely honest, I can't say I liked it much. It took one tamal and about a day to decide to head back to Oaxaca as soon as possible. The town's mini European city feel with its abundance of cafes, wine and cheese bars, as well as the stark divisions between the indigenous population, revolutionary travelers, and coletos* to name a few, were too much to take while my head was immersed in Oaxaca's barricaded streets. 

I went back last week. This time I knew we would be there at least a week and I went with the intention of giving San Cristobal and myself a second chance.  Things turned out well and I have much to write and reflect upon. First off, however, I am posting some of the Zapata images I found throughout the city. 

To say you can find a Zapata or two in Chiapas is an understatement. Zapatas mark the Chiapaneco landscape like no other place I have been to in Mexico. Here is the first of two entries on Zapata in Chiapas. A very brief sampling of the contrasts and the irony of how his image is used.


"See you in 2010," stencil en calle Guadalupe Victoría, Centro, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, mayo 2010.


"Rebeldia Zapata Cover," Tierra Adentro, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, mayo 2010.


"Zapata Corner," San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, mayo 2010.


* Coletos - is the term used for people who are from San Cristobal.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Zapata Punk


Zapata Punk began to pop up in 2006 during the APPO movement. The art collective ASARO stenciled the Mohawk clad Zapata on walls in a sense claiming his image for the underground, marginalized and highly persecuted youth movement that sprung during the 2006 mobilizations. Four years later, despite an apparent return to the status quot, the youth movement that walked the streets in support of change continues to march to its own beat through small collectives. And so Zapata Punk continues to make his appearance here and there as if to confirm their continued resistance.

  'Zapata Punketo...' from the 'Looking for Zapata' series. Oaxaca de Juárez, 30 marzo, 2010.


Thursday, February 18, 2010

Aurora y Antonio

'Y las paredes siguen hablando,' photo by Mauricio Magaña. Oaxaca, 2010.

I will try my best to be brief precisely because it is almost impossible to think of brevity after spending hours and hours listening to people weave stories into tapestries of esperanza. Last week was probably one of the hardest and most fruitful weeks of my life. I have had little time to think or wallow in 'foreigness' lately. I have been overwhelmed with emotions rushing gushing and spilling out of me; laughter, happiness, uncertainty, impotence, sadness, rage, and so, so much esperanza it poured out in tears several times. Too much has happened and I had been unable to write anything out of sheer exhaustion. This is my first attempt at reflecting on some of what was lived last week and I have chosen to begin by writing about Aurora and Antonio.

On Friday we went to a local university to hear two ex-commanders of a guerrilla group called the Insurgent People's Revolutionary Army (Éjercito Revolucionario del Pueblo Insurgente - ERPI). The ERPI grew out of another well known guerrilla group here in Mexico, the EPR with whom these two commanders broke from to form the ERPI in 1997. Both Gloria Arenas Agis and Jacobo Silva Nogales, known as Coronela Aurora and Comandante Antonio were political prisoners until late October of 2009 a little over ten years after being apprehended in late October 1999. Curiously the year before their arrests was the year the Mexican government formed the Federal Preventive Police (Policía Federal Preventive - PFP). The PFP was in fact the unit responsible for their arrests just as they were in charge of bringing order to Oaxaca in late 2006 during the APPO rebellion.

Both Gloria and Jacobo were arrested without warrants, both were severely tortured, and both were accused of a long list of crimes including rebellion, sabotage, murder, terrorism, etc. When apprehended neither denied their identities and both were presented to the public at a rueda de prensa in an effort to show the government's efficiency at dealing with crime. Finally both were sentenced to over 50 years in prison. 

Being accused of a crime in Mexico, especially if done for political reasons, means guilty until proven innocent, or to put it bluntly it means guilty with a stroke of a pen and regardless of a person's innocence. Piles of evidence in a person's favor will do nothing to reverse sentencing and will most likely, depending on the judge, never leave a person's file to be reviewed. A case in point here in Oaxaca is the case of Juan Manuel Martínez Moreno currently in prison accused of shooting the American Indymedia journalist Brad Will in 2006.

The talk on Friday was inspiring. Walking into the room I recognized Gloria. Something about her was so familiar to me I felt I knew her, I tried to recall why I felt this way while rationalizing in my mind the impossibility. I decided I must have seen her picture or seen a video of her somewhere at some point. Like Jacobo's, Gloria's face reflected an enormous sense of peace that made the idea of  them spending 10 years in a maximum federal state penitentiary seem unimaginable. The room was full and the conversation focused largely on how to conceptualize and live fundamental social change without 'taking power,' ( to recall Holloway's 'How to change the world without taking powers'). Gloria and Jacobo spoke quietly yet with resolution while answering questions, showing an unfledging support and speaking of their incorporation into the continuing lucha for fundamental social change.

What was most surprising however, to most of us listening and asking from the audience was how these two ex-guerrilleros, Aurora y Antonio, political prisoners just recently released, having endured torture, and ten years in a maximum security prison, were tremendously moved by the people of Oaxaca. Their respect for the Oaxacan movement was unprecedented. I have heard reporters, NGOs, people disappointed by the movement, and a slew of academics discuss, speculate, and make conclusions over what exactly happened in the southern Sate of Oaxaca in 2006. The controversies extend from the usual arguments over semantics, (was this a movement? was this a rebellion? was this an uprising? and does it even matter?), to the aloofness of many who decided to shock-it-all-up to a few power hungry individuals pulling their usual puppetry tricks in the name of social change, in other words the tendency to reduce peoples participation to merely political manipulation. Ah but if only it were that simple... If only we could homogenise real life like we do often in our minds or on paper... Pardon me as I celebrate the fact we can't!

Gloria and Jacobo spoke with great admiration about the many lessons Oaxaca had shown the rest of Mexico in 2006, despite the aftermath and the current apathy that seems to permeate the Oaxacan landscape. It was clear that they had taken much from what was experienced in Oaxaca, not in the defeatist sense that many seem to have taken, or in fruitless arguments over whether or not what happened can be considered a movement, but by focusing on the glimmer of esperanza the Oaxacan movement was able to reveal, simply put, by imagining the possibilities.

To them the Oaxacan movement is exemplary of what el pueblo can accomplish, how it can organize, and even how it can surpass more than one would-be leader.  Yes some people within the movement sold their soul to the devil, yes there was repression, yes the same governor is still in power in large part due to the Federal Government's complicity, but beyond the materially and academically measurable how did people move, react, defend, fight, or even understand their own process etc. There will always be those who take the route of politics, who are able to gain materially by taking advantage of movements, but at the same time there will also always be those who will not follow, who will make their own paths, who will challenge through their actions, and surpass movement structures. That was more than evident in 2006.

Yet in a sense those of us in that room needed to hear it, not from the countless NGOs, reporters, or academics who have tried to speculate, but from Aurora and Antonio who have spent a lifetime working, fighting, and believing in social change. Their voices echoed in those walls louder  and more clearly than the voices of those of us who spend a lifetime behind desks analyzing data, deconstructing and reconstructing Babylon. In a sense their presence here in Oaxaca served to re-ignite a lingering flame amongst many Oaxaqueños whose participation in 2006 has been either elevated to misunderstood heroics or diminished to an anomaly. And so the flame of esperanza shines bright in the torn up streets of Oaxaca.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Oaxaca Vive Vive

To be honest I hardly know where to begin...

Tonight I listened to many stories. Stories about deceit, loss, triumph, disappointments, love, and even hope. I spent the night talking and sharing experiences. The kind of sharing you can only do after a few beers on a Tuesday night in a cantina in the center of town.

Lately there have been so many things making my head spin I have had a hard time processing my surroundings or my very feelings but tonight things were brought back into perspective.

Since we arrived late last year the uprising of 2006 has almost seemed like a far away dream Oaxacan's woke up from maybe a bit too early. Life in Oaxaca is almost seamlessly familiar, usual, and unshattered. The Swiss, German, French, Italian, and American senior citizen tourists, ex-pats, 'profesional anthropologists,' college students and 'artists' continue to arrive in busloads. Yet at least part of the young European and American backpackers/philanthropic activists that came before 2006 have now been replaced with what has been known as Turismo Revolucionario (a term first used  in Mexico to name the flocks of European and American activists that arrived in Chiapas after the 1994 EZLN uprising), who now come to linger in what remains of the 2006 Oaxacan landscape. The city with its wide blue skies, cotton candy clouds, and touch of honey evening light continues to unleash its magical spell on more than one unsuspecting passerby.

Lately I have been questioning my place here. Mostly because I have made an effort to stop myself from falling into the middle-class 'intelectual' comfort that comes with being a highly educated, yet poor, Pocha/mestiza living in southern Mexico. Walking through a city once sown together by  a network of barricadas, now literally torn apart by the construction projects of an exiting governor desperately trying to gain a fleeting and unattainable legitimacy, I have made an extra effort to see, listen, and feel Oaxaca from where I stand.

Tonight I heard, felt and saw disappointment, failure, loss, guilt, anger, pride, enormous love and so much hope it seemed to pour out from the catina and flow like rivers onto the streets of Oaxaca. It is hard to find hope after hearing about so much repression. After hearing about the continued persecution experienced by people in their everyday lives, the enormous losses they have experienced on personal and professional levels, the shattered lives that bear witness to a time and place that might otherwise seem to no longer exist. I listened to stories filled with bravery, self sacrifice, and experiences remembered and lived whole heartedly. As I listened I remembered that time that place, my heart filled with angustia, fear, and sadness as I left Oaxaca that September  in 2006 knowing full well that my father's decision to migrate to the United States at age 17 had given me the privilege of crossing to el otro lado and the ability to leave while others could not.

I listened to the crumbling of marriages, to the loosing of children, to the nights of anguish, to the embracing of the wounded, to the battles of rocks and sticks against armour and guns, the victories,  the defeats, to the comradery between people, to the helping hand, to the need, to the want, to the willingness to fight for change at all costs, and to the what ifs...

And yet in between it all, despite so much loss, despite so much sarcasm by others who no longer believe, and despite the what ifs, they are here in Oaxaca as they are in Oregon, broken, beaten, and tortured but unwilling to take the easy way out, to settle into the status quo, knowing full well maybe others might not follow, others might not care or take the time to listen. Knowing what that means for themselves and their families but believing there is something much greater... and so you can almost hear their voices once by the thousands in the streets of Oaxaca now filled with the rattling of destruction and reconstruction...