Viva la Revolucion!

This past weekend, we had to go to Mexico so we could renew our student visas.  We went to San Cristobal in Chiapas.  It is a really beautiful city, kind of like Antigua, Guatemala but cleaner, better preserved, cheaper, safer, and with fewer tourists. 

We had one free day, which was primarily spent in the huge open-air artisan market.

Here are two little boys wrestling in the middle of the market. They were so cute and everyone had to walk around them.  Their mothers, selling these beautiful necklaces made from native seeds and nuts, just let them be.

Our second day, we went to two villages, Ovantik and San Juan Chemula.  Ovantik was amazing.  It is an autonomous Zapatista village (really, it’s more like a meeting ground, but people do live there).  The Mexican government and army aren’t allowed to interfere with/enter the Zapatista villages but we were lucky enough to be granted permission.  They were incredibly humble, thanking us for coming to learn about their movement, and asking us to spread the word that they were, indeed, still active, and still involved in the struggle.  The buildings are all painted with beautiful murals, most of them involving corn in some form.  The Zapatistas are well known for their anti-globalization position (US-subsidized corn and NAFTA really screwed over Mexican farmers, who primarily make up the Zapatistas). 

This was the sign upon entering: "You are in Zapatista territory. Here mandates the people and the government obeys. A junta of good government..." 

Murals. 

Emilio Zapata (for whom the Zapatistas are named) on his horse.

The primary school.

A person masked with maiz, Emilio Zapata is at the door with corn in one hand and a rifle in the other.

The Zapatistas have not been violent for 13 years, but there was a 12 day period of armed conflict between the Mexican government and them.  And I can only guess that if it came to it, they would be willing to take up arms again.  They wear red bandanas and/or ski masks to protect their identity.  Here are two of the Zapatistas that helped to answer our questions.

 We could only take pictures of the few people in the room answering our questions, none of the Zapatistas outside, especially if they weren't wearing their masks.

This was the coolest thing I have probably ever done, and I regret we couldn’t spend more time there and talk more with the people.  To see a group of impoverished people empower themselves by setting up autonomous governments and dedicating/risking their lives to fighting for a cause they truly believe in is great.  I wish I could have asked some of the villagers about life under Zapatista rule, but people were either a) wearing their ski mask or bandana, which makes it pretty intimidating to talk to them or b) didn’t speak Spanish very well. Plus we just didn’t have a lot of time.

Ovantik was pretty dang hard to beat, but Chemula was pretty cool.  Chemula is a village comprised of only indigenous people—it is illegal to sell land to anyone who is not of the indigenous group native to the region.  We visited the Catholic Church there, which is used in a completely non-traditional way.  There are no masses and no regular clergy, but people come in on their own as they choose to realize their own indigenous-inspired rituals.  There are thousands of candles, lots of saints with mirrors on their chests (the mirrors reflect the sun during the monthly processions, which gives wisdom to the people), and when we went there was a family getting ready to slaughter a hen.  There is one volunteer “keeper” for each saint, and they maintain the saints, scrape the wax off the floors, and cover the floor with pine branches.  Cameras were forbidden inside the church unfortunately, and I didn’t feel like cameras were that welcomed in the village generally, so I didn’t get many pictures.

As usual, there were little kids following us around asking for pesos or trying to sell us trinkets.  A little boy came up to me with a basket of tiny felted turtles plus one odd doll. When I asked him what the doll was, his sister simply said “Marcos,” referring to Subcomandante Marcos, the leader of the Zapatista movement.  I couldn’t help but buy it.

So, all in all, it was another great weekend.