Mexico
(Español) La casa que resiste al Nuevo Aeropuerto de la Ciudad de México
Por Redacción Somos el medio
Desde hace 17 años, el Frente de Pueblos en Defensa de la Tierra (FPDT) ha luchado contra la construcción del Nuevo Aeropuerto Internacional de la Ciudad de México (NAICM) que esta destruyendo el Lago Nabor Carrillo y su territorio.
La imposición del Nuevo Aeropuerto de CDMX, ha provocado cientos de violaciones a derechos humanos de los pobladores y constantes amenazas e intentos de desplazamiento y despojo de sus tierras.
Uno de estos casos es el de Doña Nieves, madre soltera, que lleva años en resistencia contra el paso de una autopista que forma parte de las obras del NAICM y que de terminarse destruiría su patrimonio.
“Aquí tengo veinte años, mi niña estaba chiquita, creció acá, y para mí en otro lado no va a ser lo mismo, pero aun así seguimos resistiendo”:
An invitation to: “The Impossible Movie Theater”
An invitation to: “The Impossible Movie Theater”
Sixth Commission of the EZLN, October 2018
ZAPATISTA ARMY FOR NATIONAL LIBERATION
Sixth Commission of the EZLN
Mexico
October, 2018
To the persons, groups, collectives and organizations of the national and international Sixth:
To the support networks for the Indigenous Governing Council:
To those for whom cinema is a hobby, vice, or obsession:
Part I and only:
THE IMPOSSIBLE MOVIE THEATER.
(Opening scene: The Serpent Offers the Apple)
You’re walking without a destination. You don’t know where you’re going, much less why. Behind you is the busy street which runs along the wall whose crumbling facade mocks the also deteriorating poster of the Happy Family. In the distance lies the monumental stadium and its impertinent question: “Who rules?” Anyway, right now you have no idea where you are and you’re starting to wonder if you should turn back…but you don’t know where or why you’d go in that direction either. So you stop, but only for a moment because a little girl grabs your hand and hurries you along: “Hurry up or we’ll be late to the movie.” You don’t have a chance to respond because you’re immediately faced with a colorful sign declaring: “All adults must be accompanied by a child [niño].” But someone has crossed out “un niño” and written “a girl [una niña].” Another anonymous hand has scratched that out to write “unoa niñoa.” Someone else crossed that out and wrote instead, “None of that matters here.”
Someone wearing a ski-mask stops you, but the little girl says to the masked face, “he’s with me.” The masked person allows you to pass. You walk down a slope partially covered in cement, through puddles, rocks, and mud. Off to the side there are multiple wood structures with tin roofs. The fog is heavy, so the humble structures appear and disappear with every step you take, like “fade in” and “fade out” scenes. You keep going without knowing where you’re headed. The atmosphere reminds you of an old mystery movie…or a horror film.