A La Marcha

I wrote in my March newsletter about going to hear Javier Sicilia speak as a part of a march for an end to drug-related violence in Cuernavaca. This month, another march was organized, this time from Cuernavaca all the way to the city square of the nation's capital--the zocalo surrounded by government buildings and the national cathedral.

An effigy of President Calderón hangs beneath a sign that reads "imperialism's puppet,"
with protesters and the cathedral in the background.

While demonstrations in Mexico City on May 8 attacked a variety of issues (most of them anti-Calderón in one way or another), the largest faction was the "No Más Sangre" group led by Sicilia. The complaints against the government are complicated and controversial, but the crux of their argument boils down to this: in Calderón's attempt to legitimize his presidency, he has declared an unmanageable and un-winnable war against the drug cartels, but this war's toll has proven too great--we either need a dramatic change of policy, or a all-out change of leadership.
Many question whether Calderón's actions influence the rising death toll of the drug war at all, or if his political posturing just makes him an easy scapegoat. From The Esteyonage:

I went by [the march] for a bit, and just couldn't help but thinking what the hell cartel bosses around the country were thinking watching this all play out on TV. I kept thinking about a friend's cynical perspective that they would see this as a joke. That the government - who most appealed to - can't fix the real problems.
Despite all the positive energy, and thousands of people, I couldn't shake that somber thought.

And The Globe and Mail:

But when he in turn condemns the Calderon administration, declaring, “Your struggle for power has torn apart the fabric of the nation,” Mr. Sicilia steps outside of reason.
His son was not murdered by the state, but by criminal gangs. Contrary to what the poet says, the death can only “be blamed on our failing institutions” insofar as those institutions have been unable to vanquish the murderous cartels, not because they have had the courage to try.

There's an important question here: to what extent does any president have the full control of his country? What's more, this political climate has an eerie echo: a dubious election, a divisive president, an unpopular war against an invisible enemy. And in Calderón's responses, I see the same cocky cowboy tenuously defending the pursuit of justice, rooting for courage in the face of terrorism. Maybe I'm getting too caught up in the excitement of being on the ground in the midst of a populist movement, but I couldn't help but see the urgency in people's faces as they listened to Sicilia speak on that blistering Sunday. I, too, worry that these demonstrations are pointless, but I can't help but hope that where our passions failed to unify us in the States, Mexico might find a different outcome. I won't stop hoping that although there are no easy fixes in wars against Drugs or Terrorism, saying "We don't know the answer, but we do know this isn't it," might be enough for the moment.

Two marchers, whose signs put a twist on the popular slogan, "No More Blood."
These read "Yes, More Love."

Headed South

I'm sorry I haven't been writing very much lately. Some of you already know that my Granna has gotten quite sick in the last few weeks, and it's been difficult for me to manage my time well between work, calling home, and taking a moment for a deep breath alone.
This morning I'm headed off to the southern state of Chiapas for my spring break trip. I'll be spending two weeks visiting ruins, learning about traditional medicine, and breathing mountain air with Anneli. I'm excited for the trip, although it comes at a difficult time. I'll have lots of stories and pictures when I get back, I'm sure.
Speaking of pictures, I posted a lot of new ones over at my flickr this week, especially of Ari's quince in San Luis Potosi. If you've got a moment to head on over there, I encourage you to. This blog gets a good amount of traffic, but my pictures feel a little lonely.

I also wanted to link to the English version of Javier Sicilia's open letter to the Mexican government and drug cartels. I referenced these events in my last newsletter, but the letter is so much more poignant than anything I could ever say. I hope you'll take a few minutes to read it. Here's just one paragraph...

There is no life, Albert Camus wrote, without persuasion and without peace, and the history of Mexico today only knows intimidation, suffering, distrust and the fear that one day another son or daughter of another family will be debased and massacred. You only know what you are ask us, that death, as is already happening today, becomes an affair of statistics and administration and which we should all get used to it.

Be well, and Happy Easter, if I don't "talk" with you before then.

La Estación - a prayer request

I wrote a lot in my last newsletter about the neighborhood where I spend most of my working hours, la estación. I feel it's important to share a news update, but I first want to stress that I am fine, that there's no reason to think I'm in any more danger now than I was when I first agreed to come to Mexico, and that there are lots of people spending a lot of time thinking about my safety.

image via google search, which took me here

The thrust is this: please be praying, in whatever way you can, for the people of this community. For their safety, for their peace, for their restored ability to trust one another, for the opportunity and the challenge we now face: to join one another in the small steps that can better our world.