An immersive record – as it is characteristic of Raúl Romero, describing the challenging trajectory of La Extemporánea from San Cristóbal de las Casas to Vienna, Slumil K’Ajxemk’Op’s territory.

By Raúl Romero.

Wednesday, September 8.

The wind farms and PEMEX compounds urge us to go faster. We don’t want night to fall on that stretch of the highway in the state of Veracruz. On other journeys we have been witness to criminal and state violence in that area. At nightfall, on this stretch of road, the commercial bus lines decide to wait for other units and travel in a caravan to support each other. Memory kicks in: “if they throw a stone at our window, don’t stop,” I tell my companion who drives the van we are traveling in. He replies: “It is not so easy, it depends on the amount of damage.” We both know that this is one of the practices used by some criminal groups to force you to stop, and then rob and/or kidnap you.

These are the things that we in Mexico have had to learn in order to be able to travel in a “more secure” way.

I finish sending the agreed message, at the agreed time, to the group monitoring us in Mexico City. I look up and a group of about ten people of African descent walks along the road. They are traveling with very few belongings and bottles of water, part of the migrant caravans that cross Mexico to reach the United States. The scene becomes commonplace. I try to keep count, but there are so many groups we encounter along the way that I have forgotten how many we have counted.

We arrive at our destination, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, at 8:30 pm. A couple of comrades are waiting for us.

We have a brief conversation, catch up. Hugs will be for another time: mouth covers, gel and disinfectant spray accompany our meeting. It’s time to rest. We have been on the road for more than 13 hours. We get settled in the space that we have been lent in solidarity to spend those two nights. In the early hours of the morning, I hear notifications of messages on my cell phone. I hear them in the distance, while dreaming.

The next day when I wake up I finally consult the phone.

“Don’t go out, there is turmoil in the village.”

“How are you? Don’t go near the north of Jovel.” These are some of the messages I read.

According to the Fray Bartolomé de las Casas Human Rights Center, the night witnessed confrontations between criminal groups in the northern area of the city of San Cristóbal de Las Casas, near the community known as Molino los Arcos.

The situation is serious: people assassinated, houses burned, terror. In Chiapas this scene has also become common: paramilitary and organized crime groups carry out constant attacks against rural and urban populations.

The municipal and state governments do not seem to be concerned about stopping this situation; on the contrary, they guarantee impunity and free mobility to these groups. The interventions of the federal government are also insufficient, or complacent depending on how you want to see it. Chiapas is a powder-keg. Its governor, Rutilio Escandón, “is kept in the government with pins” and through agreements with other power constituencies.

On Thursday the 9th, the entire day consisted of preparations and informal meetings with compañeros and compañeras from other organizations. In the morning we went to the Center of Autonomous Resistance and Zapatista Rebellion Caracol Jacinto Canek, a Zapatista caracol in the heart of San Cristóbal de las Casas. We signed up on a list and announced that we would accompany the caravan. The next day La Extemporánea, the Zapatista airborne delegation will leave for Mexico City, where they will stay for a few days and then fly to Vienna, Austria. Outside the Caracol remain people of solidarity, comrades, filmmakers, independent journalists. We share information and tips for the trip.

In the afternoon of the same Thursday we attended a seminar held by some collectives of the region. The predominant theme of the interventions was the attacks that occurred in the early hours of the morning.

They talk about organized crime, corruption, dispossession, resistance, the struggle for life, the role of women, the objective of the intensification of the war in Chiapas, the situation of terror. There is fear and uncertainty.

An older man takes the floor and maps the links between local governments and organized crime.

He concludes: “we have to ask our allies in Mexico City to help us communicate what is happening in Chiapas. If we write it, they will kill us.”

Night falls again, a reminder that we must hurry.

We distribute the tasks between the three: buy food, water, put gas in the car. My travel partners go together, and I walk through the center of San Cristobal. I adjust my mask, dodging tourists and moving away from where I see the highest concentration of people. It seems that for the hundreds of visitors the pandemic is over: they go without masks, or healthy distance, or any other measure. I meet up with three comrades who live in town, friends of many years. We find a corner and quickly catch up. Jokingly I tell them, “the pandemic is over here, isn’t it?”. Their response is similar to what I have read in the press or heard from others: “The health measures here are a disaster. Listen to what the health workers say… In the protests against AMLO a few weeks ago there were not only the compas of the CNTE, there were also women and men doctors and nurses. Many people died in the communities who were not included in the COVID statistics.”

On Friday, September 10, very early, at 6:00 am, we arrived again at the Caracol Jacinto Canek. The Extemporánea has already boarded the four trucks that will take them to Mexico City. Also on the trucks are the Comando Palomitas, the group of boys and girls who have a special mission on the trip: to play. Also on board is Después de los 17. (The Ixchel-Ramona Militia Section). A total of 177 people make up La Extemporánea. At the head of the delegation is the spokesman of the EZLN, Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés, who is also the coordinator of La Travesía por la Vida – European Chapter.

The Extemporaneous is the second Zapatista delegation to travel to Europe this year. Just last May, Squadron 421, the Zapatista maritime delegation, composed of Lupita, Carolina, Ximena, Yuli, Bernal, Felipe and Marijose, left on the ship La Montaña for Europe. After several weeks at sea, in June 2021, Squadron 421 arrived at its destination, which it renamed SLUMIL K’AJXEMK’OP, which means “Rebellious Land”, or “Land that does not surrender, that does not yield”. During its stay in Insubordinate Europe, Squadron 421 met with different organizations. It also led the historic mobilization of August 13, 2021 in Madrid under the slogan: They did not conquer us.

The caravan of vehicles is formed and begins to take its course. A filmmaker runs alongside us with his camera in hand. From the truck in front of us, half of the body of another documentary filmmaker comes out of the window: camera in hand, making funny contortions to get better shots. They both want to record this historic moment.

Several cars break away from the caravan before leaving San Cristobal de las Casas. From there we will be four trucks, five vans and one car that will make the trip.

We have already identified ourselves and we know who should go where. In Tuxtla Gutiérrez we notice that a local police patrol is following us. They take pictures of us. They speed up and get between the cars of the caravan. The same scene will be repeated in Tabasco, Veracruz, Puebla and the State of Mexico: state police patrols passing us, taking photos, closing the road.

Something similar happens with the patrols of the National Guard and the National Migration Institute. These two groups stop us on at least three occasions. The treatment is cold, aggressive. In one of the stops the situation becomes more tense than in the previous ones. Migration and the National Guard stop us at the same time. They want the compas to get out of the trucks. The human rights observers accompanying us argue the right to free transit. Migration insists. All of us accompanying the caravan surround the agents. Some of us turn on our cell phone cameras and start recording. A colleague begins to transmit live via Facebook. The agents look surprised, they don’t expect that kind of reaction. They let us go. We get back on the road.

On two separate occasions we stop for food. The Zapatista delegation is well prepared: bananas, water, tortas. They organize themselves to distribute them. Everyone always wears masks and safety face shields.

16 hours after leaving the Caracol Jacinto Canek we arrived at our destination: Carmona y Valle no. 32 in Mexico City. The location shows off the murals and ribbons that a brigade of artists had painted a few weeks earlier. Other Zapatista sympathizers have attended the reception. The large contingent from the Otomí Community residing in Mexico City stands out. The arrival is, like the departure, quick and orderly.

The Extemporaneous has arrived safely at its first destination. It is time to rest.

---

Published originally in Mexican-Castillian language by Camino al Andar. Part one of two, the second part to be published tomorrow.

Chronicle by Raúl Romero, photographs by Francisco Lion.

Translation by taller ahuehuete.

Zapatista Sixth Commission
Mexico

August 30, 2021.

To the Europe below and to the left:

To the Sixth in Mexico and abroad:

To the organizations, groups, and collectives that seek truth and justice for the victims of forced disappearance:

Sisters, brothers, and hermanoas:

Compañeroas, compañeras, compañeros:

We would like to begin by saluting the struggle and the commitment of all those people who search for the disappeared, for their missing loved ones. Their struggle is also, and above all, a struggle for life. It is no coincidence that on this day, we announce the following:

First, after an endless string of paperwork, obstacles, and problems, we hereby announce that the Zapatista Airborne Company, which we have called “La Extemporánea,”[i] will leave Mexico City for Europe on September 13, 2021.

Second, the destination is the city of Vienna, in that geography called Austria, and we will travel in two groups.

Third, a first group will leave the Mexico City airport on September 13, 2021, at approximately 12:10hrs. It will arrive in the city of Madrid, in that geography called Spain, at 06:00hrs on September 14. After a 2-hour layover and connection, the flight will resume at 08:20hrs, to land in the city of Vienna, Austria, at 11:05hrs on September 14. A second group will depart on the same day, September 13 at 20:45hrs with a layover, also in Madrid, at 14:35hrs on September 14, resuming the flight at 16:00hrs and landing in Vienna at 19:00hrs on September 14. Fourth, La Extemporánea is organized into 28 “Listen and Share our Word” teams (made up of 4-5 compas each), plus one Play and Mischief team, and one Coordination team. La Extemporánea can thus cover 28 corners of the European geography simultaneously. A few days later, we will be joined by the delegation of the National Indigenous Congress-Indigenous Governing Council and the Peoples’ Front in Defense of Land and Water. Along with that delegation of sister organizations, we will continue the work started by the 421^st Squadron, which is currently covering that geography they call Switzerland.

Fifth, in a few days we will announce the date on which we will leave the Semillero “Comandanta Ramona” to gather in the caracol of Jacinto Canek in San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. From there we will travel by land as a vehicle caravan to Mexico City where we will garrison at the premises on Carmona y Valle street until the day and time of departure. We include this in case anyone wants to accompany the departure and trip from San Cristóbal to Mexico City. Sixth, we dedicate this effort (which included many non-Zapatistas and some even anti-Zapatistas), to all the disappeared, to the families who suffer in their absence and, above all, to the women and men who fight to find them and achieve the truth and justice that we all need and deserve. Know that your example, your tireless work, and your refusal to give up, give in, or sell out are for us, the Zapatista peoples, a lesson in human dignity and authentic commitment to the struggle for life. While we are in Mexico City, we will deliver the minutes of the assemblies of the Zapatista, non-Zapatista and anti-Zapatista communities, with their agreements to support the fight for truth and justice for the victims of violence, according to the popular referendum that was held on the first day of August of this year, 2021.

That’s all.

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast,

Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés
General Coordinator of the Journey for Life—Europe Chapter
Still Mexico. Year 501.

[i] See the EZLN’s August 17, 2021 communique for an explanation of the use of “La Extemporánea” [the extemporaneous]: https://enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx/2021/08/17/only-500-years-later/

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Al Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional
A los pueblos del México
A los pueblos del mundo
A la Sexta Nacional e Internacional
A las Redes de Resistencia y Rebeldía

La Comisión de Coordinación y Seguimiento del Congreso Nacional Indígena- Concejo Indígena de Gobierno, informamos que invitados por el Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, hemos nombrado y comisionado a 13 compañeros y compañeras del Congreso Nacional Indígena y del Frente de Pueblos en Defensa de la Tierra y el Agua, representantes de la lucha que somos en las geografías donde florecemos los pueblos, naciones, tribus, comunidades y barrios indígenas de este país México, de donde somos originarios, para participar en la GIRA POR LA VIDA en su primera etapa por el continente europeo.

Nos decimos listos y listas para pisar las tierras europeas, tenemos los pasaportes que nos acreditan como mexicanos y que logramos obtener gracias al apoyo del Colectivo «Llegó La Hora de los Pueblos», esto luego de que casi todos los delegados hubieran recibido negativas, requerimientos, nuevas negativas y nuevos requerimientos por ser “extemporáneos”. No todos lo lograron y en el caso de algunas comunidades, ni siquiera podrán acompañarnos por tal motivo.

O sea que vamos 13 delegadas y delegados, que, por ser extemporáneos, nos costó trabajo acreditar ser mexicanos, mas aún si tenemos una palabra que decir, un oído para escuchar y un corazón colectivo que siente la rebeldía por la vida de los pueblos del mundo.

(Continuar leyendo…)

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Solicitud de entrada en territorio francés de una delegación de comunidades de pueblos autóctonos de México, principalmente zapatistas

Paris, 13 de julio de 2021

A la atención de M. Darmanin

Ministro de Interior

Place Beauvau 75008 Paris

M. Le Drian

Ministro de Europa y Asuntos Internacionales

37 Quai d’Orsay, 75007 Paris

Copie a M. Jean-Pierre Asvazadourian

Embajador de Francia en Mexico

El 13 de julio de 2021

Señor,

Una delegación de ciento sesenta nacionales de México, principalmente de comunidades de pueblos indígenas autóctonos zapatistas de Chiapas, se ha estado preparando durante meses para venir a Europa y reunirse con colectivos solidarios, asociaciones culturales, grupos artísticos, sindicatos, ONGs, y entidades de defensa de los Derechos humanos.

Entre julio y septiembre están previstos numerosos eventos en los que su presencia es fundamental para intercambiar sobre temas de salud, educación, ecología, justicia, derechos sociales y derechos humanos.

Más de 800 organizaciones, instituciones y personalidades, han firmado la declaración Esperando al Barco por la Vida (https://viajezapatista.eu/es/esperando-al-barco-por-la-vida/) en la que puede leerse: “Desde nuestras geografías, territorios y espacios, les reiteramos la invitación a llegar a Europa, a visitarnos, a encontrarnos en estas tierras que no son solo las del capital salvaje y transnacional, sino que es el lugar desde donde luchamos para conseguir que la vida, y por lo tanto, el mundo, sea un lugar digno donde vivir”.

Ante la actual situación de shock planetario, las comunidades originarias y en especial el movimiento zapatista, viene a Europa a “Realizar encuentros, diálogos, intercambios de ideas, experiencias, análisis y valoraciones entre quienes nos encontramos empeñados, desde distintas concepciones y en diferentes terrenos, en la lucha por la vida”, como se señala en el texto titulado o Una Declaración por la Vida.

Quienes les hemos invitado a venir para realizar esos encuentros e intercambios, consideramos que la lucha por la vida es un asunto de vital importancia, un asunto imperioso; si no luchamos por la vida, no habrá futuro.

Y como consideramos que para el Gobierno Francés, esta lucha por la vida también debiera ser prioritaria, entendemos que la administración pública francesa debería admitir este motivo como uno de los motivos imperiosos para entrar en el país, porque el viaje es para la reconstrucción de un tejido de esperanza y libertad.

(Continuar leyendo…)

The Journey for Life: To What End?

June 2021

A clarification: often when we say “los Zapatistas,” we are not referring to men, but to the Zapatista villages [pueblos]. And when we say “las Zapatistas,” we’re not describing women, but the Zapatista communities [comunidades]. That’s why you’ll notice this ‘gender-hopping’ in our wording. When we refer to gender we always use “otroa” to mark the existence and struggle of those who are neither men nor women (our ignorance on the subject prevents us from going to details—but soon we will learn to name all of the differences).

-*-

  That said, the first thing that you should know or understand about the Zapatistas is that when we are going to do something, we prepare first for the worst. We start with a disastrous ending and prepare in reverse to confront it, or ideally to avoid it.

For example, we imagine being attacked: the usual massacres, genocide disguised as modern civilization, total extermination—and we prepare for those possibilities. On January 1, 1994, we did not imagine defeat: we assumed it as a certainty.

Maybe that helps you understand our initial shock, hesitation, and any puzzling improvisation on our part when, after so much time, effort, and preparation for ruin, we discovered that…we live.

So it is out of that skepticism that we develop our initiatives: some smaller, some larger, all outrageous. Our calls are always directed at “the other,” that which is beyond our daily horizon but which we recognize as necessary in the struggle for life, which is to say in the struggle for humanity.

In the maritime version of this initiative-gamble-delirium-folly, we prepared for the Kraken, a storm, or a stray white whale to wreck the vessel. That’s why we carved canoes and sent them with the 421^st Squadron on La Montaña all the way to Vigo, Galicia, Spanish State, Europe.

We also knew that we might not be welcomed, so we sought in advance consensus for the invasion—that is, the visit… Actually, we’re still not sure whether we’re exactly “welcome”. For more than one man, woman, or other [una, uno, unoa], our presence is annoying, if not frankly disruptive. And we get it: it could be that after a year or more of lockdown, some might find it inconvenient that a group of indigenous Mayans, mere producers and consumers of commodities (electoral or otherwise), would try to talk in person. In person! (Do you remember how that used to be a part of daily life?) And worse, that they would make it their principal mission to listen to you, to pepper you with questions, to share nightmares and, of course, dreams.

(Continuar leyendo…)

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THE AZORES ISLANDS, PORTUGAL, EUROPE

 June 11, 2021.
(Note: Times and dates are in accordance with Mexican geography.)

With a dusty face, a cleaned and refreshed exterior, and repaired sails, La Montaña departed Cienfuegos, Cuba, on May 16 and headed East. Skirting along the edge of the Las Coloradas beach, with the Sierra Maestra mountains to its left, the ship was accompanied once again by the dolphins convoked by Durito Stahlkäfer, who cursed as the vessel passed the US aberration in Guantánamo. They were greeted by whales near Haiti, and Durito and the Cat-Dog disembarked on Tortuga Island^[i] mumbling something about buried treasure… or treasure to be buried. In support of the support team, Lupita, Ximena and Bernal amicably threw up, though they would have preferred to offer support some other way. In Punta Rucia, Dominican Republic, La Montaña docked and waited cautiously for strong winds to pass. On May 24, at daybreak and propelled by its sails alone (“as not to scare the wind,” Captain Ludwig said), La Montaña set off northwards. This time orcas greeted the ship, waving farewell as it departed Caribbean waters. Between May 25 and 26, the schizophrenic ship [el navío] – who thinks he is a she as well as a mountain – navigated around the Bahamas and on May 27 turned Northeast, now on the open ocean, Duc in Altum^[ii].

On June 4, having exited the so-called Bermuda Triangle, the ship and its esteemed crew reoriented East toward the rising sun. Between June 5-9, they navigated waters where, according to legend, the mythical city of Atlantis lies.

It was 22:10:15hrs on June 10 when, through the haze of the European dawn, from the top of La Montaña’s crow’s nest, the outlines of a sister mountain became discernable: Cabeço Gordo on Faial Island in the Azores Archipelago, autonomous region of the geography of Portugal, in Europe.

It was 02:30:45hrs on June 11 when the coast of the port of Horta came into view, just a stone’s throw away, bringing tears to the eyes of the crew and passengers. It was 7:30am in the Azores mountains. It was 03:45:13hrs when a port authority motorboat approached La Montaña to indicate where to drop anchor. At 04:15:33hrs the shop dropped anchor in front of the other mountains. At 08:23:54hrs the Port Captaincy picked up the crew members of La Montaña and took them to shore for Covid PCR tests, and returned them to the boat to await the results. At all times the “Autoridade Maritima” of the port of Horta was friendly and respectful.

The crew and passengers are in good health, “in good spirits, happy, with no problems, gossip, or fighting. (In the 421^st Squadron) they take care of each other.”

It is now time to tell you who else, besides the crew of the Stahlratte and the Zapatista 421^st Squadron, have made the voyage. Tasked with documenting the maritime journey are María Secco, independent filmmaker and photographer, and Diego Enrique Osorno, independent reporter. In the role of support team for the Zapatista delegation is Javier Elorriaga.

In accordance with the traditional Zapatista ways and customs, and in addition to paying their own expenses, these three people were required to show written authorizations from their families, partners and children. Each letter was presented to Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés. Wives, husbands, mothers, sons and daughters wrote and signed the authorization letters. I got to read them. There was a little bit of everything, from philosophical reflections to children’s illustrations, including a little girl’s respectful request for a whale. Nobody requested beetles or cat-dogs, which is either an affront or a relief, I’m not quite sure. In the children’s writing you could detect pride in the fact that their mother or father had to ask permission from them (as the Zapatista saying goes: “the ducks shoot at the rifles.”^[iii]) I imagine you will have the opportunity to get to know María and Diego’s observations, their anecdotes, their reflections and their assessment of their participation on “the front lines” (both are filmmakers) of this delirium. New gazes are always welcome and are refreshing.

-*-

When this news arrived in the mountains of Southeastern Mexico, the Zapatista communities sent a message to the crew of the Stahlratte via the captain: “Thank you, you all are fucking awesome.” They are still trying to translate it into German.

-*-

Something to reflect on: the motto of the Azores is “Antes morrer livres que em paz sujeitos” (Better to die free than live in peace as slaves).

-*-

In the distance, to the East, the Pillars of Hercules – which in their day were the limits of the known world – gazed in astonishment on a mountain that has made a journey by sea from the West.^[iv]

I testify.

SupGaleano.

June 11, 2021

[i]Small island off the northwest coast of Haiti which was a major center of Caribbean piracy in the 17^th century.

^[ii]“Duc in altum et laxate retia vestra in capturam” – “Cast out into the deep, and let down your nets for a catch” (Luke 5:4).

[iii]Phrase used when a subordinate attempts to go over the head of his/her boss.

[iv]The Pillars of Hercules was the name given in ancient times to the rocky mountains at the edge of the Strait of Gibraltar.

From the Notebook of the Cat-Dog

The Boarding

We boarded La Montaña [The Mountain] on April 30, 2021, at the scheduled time. The boat was docked about 50 breaststrokes away the harbor, “far from the hustle and bustle / of fake society.”[i] Fluttering around the boat were laughing gulls, cormorants, frigate birds, corococo birds, and even a little lost hummingbird making a nest in the pulpit. In the ship’s hull beneath the water, bottlenose dolphins drummed the beat of a cumbia, a whale shark kept the rhythm with its fins, and a manta ray moved its black wings like flying hips.

The buccaneer group, headed up by Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés who, along with a troop made up of an insurgenta[ii] who is part of the Tercios Compas [Zapatista media team], an insurgente who is a driver and a mechanic, a driver who is a Zapatista base of support, 5 more Terci@s Compas, a comandanta and two comandantes[iii] came to send off the maritime delegation—the 421st Squadron—and make sure that the group had everything that they needed for the nautical epic. A support team from the Sixth Commission also attended in order to write the obituaries of those who might die during the mission.

 The ship’s crew didn’t put up any resistance. In fact, the captain had previously ordered that a large banner be raised on the mast of the boat with an image depicting the Zapatista maritime delegation, thereby including La Montaña and the whole crew in the struggle for life. With the masts and spars exposed, the symbol of Zapatista delirium rippled even more brightly in the wind.

We could say that it was a consensual boarding. There wasn’t any aggression on the part of the Zapatista troops nor by the vessel’s crew. You could say that there was a sort of mutual understanding between us and the crew of La Montaña even though in the initial meeting they were as surprised as we were.

We would have stood there looking at each other if it weren’t for an insect looking extraordinarily like a beetle who came out of the stern and screamed, “Boarding! If there’s a lot of them, we’ll run! If there’s only few, we’ll hide! And if there’s nobody, onward! We were born to die!” That was what settled everything. Bewildered, the crew looked first at the bug and then at us. We didn’t know if we should apologize for the interruption or join the pirate attack.

Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés thought it the right moment for introductions, so he said: “Good afternoon. My name is Moisés, Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés, and these are…” Turning around to present the troops, SubMoy realized that no one was there.

(Continuar leyendo…)

421st SQUADRON

(Zapatista Maritime Delegation)

April 2021.

The calendar? An early morning in April. Geography? The mountains of the Mexican Southeast. A sudden silence overtakes the crickets, the distant barking of dogs, and the echo of marimba music. Here, in the belly of the mountains, it sounds more like a whisper than a shout. If we weren’t where we are, you might think it was the murmur of the open ocean. But it’s not the sound of waves crashing against the coast, the beach, or the cliff edge marked by a sheer drop. No, it’s something more than that. And then… a long wail and a sudden, brief tremor.

The mountain gets up, shyly lifting its skirts a bit and, not without some difficulty, pulls its feet out of the earth. It takes a first step, grimacing in pain. Far from maps, tourist destinations and catastrophes, the soles of the small mountain’s feet are bleeding. But here all are in on the plan, so an unexpected rain falls to wash its feet and cure its wounds.

“Take care, daughter,” says the mother Ceiba tree. “You can do it!” says the Huapác tree, as if to itself. The paraque bird leads the way. “Go east, friend, go east,” it says as it hops from side to side. Clothed in trees, birds, and stones, the mountain walks, and with each step, sleepy men, women, persons who are neither men nor women, and boys and girls grab onto her skirts. They climb up her blouse, crown the tip of her breasts, continue up her shoulders, and, when they have reached the top of her head, they awaken.

To the east, the sun, just edging above the horizon, slows its stubborn daily rise. It’s quite a sight to see a mountain, with a crown of humans, walking along. But besides the sun and a few gray clouds that the night left behind, no one here seems surprised.

“So it was written,” says Old Man Antonio as he sharpens his double-edged machete, and Doña Juanita nods and sighs. The fire smells like coffee and cooked corn. A cumbia is playing on the community radio. The lyrics speak of an impossible legend: a mountain traversing history against the grain.

-*-

Seven people, seven Zapatistas, will make up the maritime division of our delegation to Europe. Four men, two women, and one other (unoa otroa). 4, 2, 1. The 421st Squadron is already stationed at the “Zapatistas Maritime-Land Training Center” located in the Comandanta Ramona Seedbed in the Tzotz Choj zone.

(Continuar leyendo…)