Un Blog Rojo

Ok so I´m not a socialist or Communist, yet. Certainly not a Marxist, though impressed by his grasp on economics. Still, this whole trip has got me to thinking.

A quick life plan update. I had planned on spending the early half of my twenties traveling around, learning about the different struggles and difficulties people have, volunteering and working with small local organizations in various regions (how Che of me!) and then taking this knowledge to some powerful wealthy important institution (like perhaps the government) and seeing if I couldn´t help make some institutional reforms based on what I had learned people needed.

Unfortunately my plans are going to hell based on what I am learning here. Questions like who am I to work with, to ¨help¨, people so different from me, and whom would I even choose to ¨help, (how that word stinks as it rolls of the tongue! or maybe that was the tuna pattie and garlic tomatoes I had for breakfast) abound in that scrambled confused brain of mine. Some ideas floating around my head thanks to my experiences and education here, banging up against my carefully laid plans and understanding of the world, permanently altering my mind´s structure to some new, as of yet unknown form: ¨To work for a cause you must join in solidarity with a movement become part of a community, never ¨help¨. Struggles should be political. Politics is screwed, at least in the States. The system is what is screwed. The system of capitalism that is. Infinately more important than government and NGO band-aides which perhaps perpetuate a system of oppression and exploitation is the struggle to change the ownership of the means of labor so that people can work for themselves not for a hierarchical leader. The power hierarchy of the world is immoral and representative Western ¨democracy¨only perpetuates this problem.¨ I´m probably not even sounding too coherent as I write this! Maybe this happens to all great revolutionary socialist leaders!

But wait, I´m no socialist! I could never win a senate seat if I was a socialist. Besides, revolution? Che? How cliché of me!

Anyway, as you can imagine, my whole system of thinking is going through the rollerpins here. Maybe its the lack of organic peanut butter. Or too many corn tortillas perhaps?

Either way, I am becoming great friends with the little Zapatista revolucionaritos that live here. I haven´t seen the Che or Marx dolls recently but have been pushing the kids around in a cart and telling them stories (in Spanish! oh yeah!) The kids don´t mind that I´m not as commie-pinko as some of the people here (or am I??) I´m learning to play a song that goes Que Triste se oye la lluvia en los Techos de Carton. (How sad to hear rain on roofs of cardboard)

Anyway. We visited a refugee camp of Zapatistas displaced by paramilitary violence (they steal their land and the government tells them to stuff it. Actually the government pays the paramilitaries and then claims it is an intercommunity conflict. Breaks down the moral of the Zapatista struggle. Low-intensity war. And so on) There were 5,000 people living in the community. They don´t have access to enough land to grow their own food, nor money to buy it. At least their roofs are made of tin.

I´m making an artisan craft. It takes like 5,000 stitches. I don´t think I´ll finish but then again, the rebellion is never over. Especially one which isn´t focused on taking state power.

¡Todavía estoy aquí!

Sorry I couldn´t come up with a better title for this blog. Though there is much going on, I couldn´t think of a better way to encapsulate it all then ´I´m still here´ ¡Todavía estoy aquí!

Because I am still here. In Mexico that is. Well actually, I´m kind of not. I am currently living in a Zapatista Caracol, or community center (direct translation being snail). Zapatista communities are considered Tierra Libre, or autonomous from the government. The Zapatistas consider their communities to be that way anyway. The Mexican military has other ideas. Still it is a really incredible and beautiful world here in Zapatista territory. A commune in the true sense of the word, this community of Mayan descendents decided in 1993, ya basta, enough with 500 years of oppression. They declared autonomy, fought a 12 day war starting on Jan 1 1994, and have been self-organizing a communal corner of the Earth ever since that would have brought tears to Marx´s eyes! In a good way. Makes you think a bit.

In class we are studying Neo-Marxism and the history of Neoliberalism in Mexico (think Reaganomics mixed with a douse of Pinochet and a dash of Margaret Thatcher, oh and add Wolfawitz to the mix). Everyone, including the teacher, is far enough Red (in the left-ward sense of the word) to make me seem like Milton Freidman. Actually the professor looked at me yesterday and asked ´Milton might you be able to explain the economic argument behind the IMF Structural Adjustment Program?´. Its funny really considering how anti-neoliberal I am but as most of you know, I like a good two-sided conversation in class, and life, and if I am going to debate with folks here, its got to be from the right. Still, I am absolutely fascinated by the system the Zapatistas have developed here in their corner of Chiapas, Mexico and am beyond convinced that the modern economic political system has gone to the dogs (as Prof. Watts would say, and did a good job of convincing me two years ago back when I still had my original ACL). Of course seeing an alternative movement actually existing, functioning, that´s really quite something.

In other news, I found a bathroom with a toilet seat, which I will have access to about once every week or two and earlier today I was playing with a little girl named Estér and her Ché Guevarra doll. Unfortunately her little friend Paco had taken the Carlitos Marx doll away. Or maybe she was sharing it with him. That would make more sense.

Much love to all of you. Write and let me know what´s up in your world!!