On Friday we were told to meet at a certain place "a las siete maňana." So we dragged our sleep 'til 9 or 10 asses out of bed at 530 am in order to shower and eat breakfast and walk to the rendezvous point by 7. Yes, that's a french word in an english speakers blog about travels through a spanish speaking nation. Ill allow your mind to finish boggling........ ok. Let's continue. Where normally we would sleep until 650 or so and then rush to show up less than 15 minutes late, this day we made sure we had all the time in the world because the overall purpose of the day was important to us. We were to meet with th zapatistas and see if there was anything we could contribute to one or a few of their many communities. The zapatistas (this will be an oversimplified explanation) are a group of indigenous Mayans living in southern Mexico. They have been marginalized in the same way that all indigenous people have been marginalized by explorers and conquistadors since the beginning of time. But this was happening still in modern times with the modern government. In an effort to preserve their culture and gain basic human rights, they organized, and began a movement, calling themselves the zapatistas after emiliano zapata. The list of notable moments in the zapatista history is too numerous to list. But the one that probably received the most coverage was the uprising in 1993 where they militarily gained control of 4 or 6 cities in southern Mexico. I read a little anecdote somewhere about an uprising that occured before the one in 1993 and it said something to the effect of the first zapatista operation was run entirely by women, it was entirely successful, and there were no casualties on either side. This is one of the major tenets of the zapatistas, women may fight in the resistance in whatever capacity they desire. They also choose who they marry and how many children they will have and raise. This is in contrast to times past where the strength of the indigenous women was underplayed.
Now, after a series of evolutions, the zapatista movement has shown that it has the ability to adapt and change, unlike most institutions that have existed for any number of years. There hasn't been any military offensives since the early 90's because the zapatista army is answerable to the people, not politicians or corporate interest. The people decided that the cost of war was too high for both sides of the struggle, and the army obeys. Still. Its a novel concept. The zapatistas are struggling for autonomy along with access to basic rights. Even though the government model that they have evolved has shown signs of efficacy, it is still in its relative infancy. But there are some very clear differences between what the zapatistas represent from what a national government represents. Rarely failing to be direct the zapatistas call their system of government "good government" to differentiate from all the other forms of government available in the area. The implication is obvious. It is a democracy by consensus rather than by majority rules. Compromises are made until there is total agreement. It seems impractical at first thought. And its true that it often takes forever to get anything done. But it takes awhile for a baby to learn to talk as well. And just because something is difficult and cumbersome doesn't mean it should be abandoned. I predict that once the zapatistas don't have to worry about basic survival, once their fundamental needs are met, they will be able to focus on streamlining the system that they've developed. The first computer took up 8 city blocks. And the telephone that I type on right this moment is exponentially more powerful than that. If the metaphor isn't obvious, WHEN the zapatistas have the opportunity to focus on thriving rather than surviving, they will be the example that sets into motion the end of any government that isn't "good." The positions in government are rotated rapidly so as to create a situation where its not the personality that's important, but the responsibilities of the position instead. There is a bottom up philosophy of mandate rather than top down as well. If its a testament to the progress made and the adherence to their values, many of the zapatista community resources throughout chiapas, clinics, education centers, etc. are being used by non-zapatistas. And they are welcomed. The reverse is not always the case.
My little anecdotes about the zapatistas are certainly incomplete, and probably inaccurate. But just do a bit of research. Wikipedia has a good introduction. They are a poetic bunch and steer clear of the sterile and refined messages of faceless institution. A google search and a bit of patient reading and I have no doubt in my mind, that you too will be inspired by their struggle and even moreso by the out of the box thinking that they have actually put into practice, regardless of whether or not you agree with all of it. But with that little bit of explanation...
We got to the rendezvous at 645 in the freezing morning and waited and waited and waited. Around 715 we began to wonder if they meant 700 pm, as we were told we would be going to a fiesta which is spanish for like a chips factory or something. Sitting there, we looked at each other and said "who fiestas at 7 in the morning, of course it was at night." How could we have been so stupid. Even though we were still pretty sure it was 7 in the morning. Just then a barefoot man with a smashed, very bloody head and a finger that had been stabbed came walking down the street. Judging by the clotting he had been walking the streets for a few hours We tried to help him as best we could but he was mentally ill, although polite, and he went on his way after assuring us he was close to home. Ill spare the suspense, because we just saw him a few hours ago in a completely different part of town. He very excitedly remembered us, showed me how his finger was healing. His head wound was actually far less severe than the bleeding conveyed. Heads bleed readily. He seemed no worse for wear and now had boots and a 49ers jacket. We felt better, you know... cause its all about us. Travel back in time to when we first saw our bloody buddy, and we walked home. After a couple hours of trying to see if Casa del Bagel was open (it wasn't, it never is) we got back to the hostel and got a phone call. We were to meet at the center of town in half an hour. It was supposed to be 7 in the morning, but there had been some problem that prevented them from meeting us. So we left for the center of town.
We met our guide, for lack of a better word, hopped in a taxi and were on our way to fiesta. We drove for about 40 minutes through the windiest, greenest, steepest hills you can imagine and arrived at a place in the Chiapan highlands that was nothing less than surreal. The breeze blew thousands of cornstalks planted patchwork almost vertically on the sides of steep green hills that layered themselves into the distance infinitely. We walked down a dirt road on the spine of one of the hills between rows of corn that towered over us and made a sound like the ocean as the wind passed through. As we moved past the corn, the hills and valleys opened before us in all directions and up at the top of the mountain there was a small church. The only way up was to scramble up the dirt, grass, and rocks, some arranged loosely into steps to ease the way. When we got to the top, there was a church service going on and the indigenous people were all dressed in some kind of very colorful traditional dress. Much of what went on was lost on me, as the language they spoke was Mayan and not Spanish. But the church lies on a border between the federal lands and the autonomous zone of the zapatistas. So it is a safe meeting place for the two groups. At the end of the ceremony, two keys were presented to two people who I can only assume were community leaders. And then everyone drank coke and fanta that was brought and served by state police officers. I'm not exactly sure, but I think they had recently reached some kind of an accord, and this was the celebration.
When the service was over the indigenous men walked down the path and were confronted by a large group of men that had been amassing on the path during the service. The entire thing seemed to have some kind of uneasy air about it, and around this time, it became obvious that it wasn't just our imagination. The struggle was real and it was constant. After a tense negotiation between two mobs that seemed to last forever, everyone just started smiling. They shook hands and went on their way peacefully. I still don't know what happened. I'm just glad that the alternative didn't.
We were brought to a van with a decal identifying it as a zapatista autonomous zone vehicle and driven again through the hills. We came to a city called san andres where it seemed that everyone who had been at the church was waiting. Without a lot of explanation we were brought into a warehouse where there was a table, perhaps 60 seats long, each with a bowl of meat and vegetable soup and again a bottle of coke and fanta. We sat down with everyone else and we ate. Their wasn't much talking while eating but after the meal was finished some basic conversation was exchanged in spanish. And then we all left so the next crop of 150 people could come in and eat. This city was the home of the zapatista good government presidency for the highlands zone. After a bit of waiting we were told we would meet with the "consejo' and speak to them about what we wanted to do. I didn't really know what to expect. But I did know that my grasp on the spanish language was tenuous at best, and my mayan is about as good as my klingon. I've never seen an episode of star trek.
We were brought into a room and told to sit down on a wooden bench in the middle of it. Already seated in the room when we entered were 10 our 12 or the zapatista good government council members. They were in a semicircle around us. The walls were bare except for the one in front of us which had plastered all over it images of revolutionaries throughout history. And I guess the best words to describe the initial feeling are nerve wracking. We were unprepared. They explained to us that they would tell us about their situation and then we would get a chance to explain what we were doing there. I would have a difficult time expressing that in english, let alone in spanish. So we listened. They told us that even though today was a fiesta, they live in constant sadness. They didn't actually have the money to celebrate. But the act of celebrating was imperative. So they did it anyway knowing they would have to struggle to recover later. The collapsing economy has hit them even harder because they were struggling even when times were good. They spoke of how they lacked access to even the necessities. The word tristeza (sadness) was repeated over and over. In the end they had conveyed, not so much through their words, but through their state of being that the challenges they faced were greater than anything I could wrap my head around. What was I to say to that? English or spanish, what could we do to alleviate any of their suffering. Nothing. But I stuttered in spanish something about trying to help in whatever capacity we could and trying to explain, inadequately, that we owed them for the inspiration they had given us. I told them we wanted to learn first hand about their struggle rather than reading watered down reports on a computer screen. I don't think it was enough, especially not with my spanish.
But the imprint left in our brains is something that we will carry with us. Even though we may not be in a position to do much now, that first computer took up 8 city blocks. The man who connected us with the zapatistas, came to our rescue in the end and summed up what were capable of doing, as we had been helping out at his women and childrens center for most of the week. His name is Sabas and he deserves something nice for sticking his neck out on our behalf. A piñata or something, I don't know. His organization is called SYJAC, which is a mayan acronym. Just search for it with san cristobal or chiapas if you want to see more about what they do. The council that we spoke with was only the first step. They have to check with community representatives to see if there is anything useful we might be able to do. So we are waiting in San Cristóbal for word. Even if this is as far as we get, we will take more away from this experience than we even have the capacity to contribute. And even if there's nothing we can do right at the moment a time will come, seeds have been planted...
And again, please excuse any inaccuracy or failure to convey on my part and find out for yourself what the existence of the zapatistas imply.
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