so we last left you before going to have a beer, err beers, ended up at the freakin´ frog, a mediocre and semi despisable place except for the bubble wrap on the windows, used to shield the place from it´s strip mall surroundings. we got the 1 dollar per beer backpacker special on icehouse, and had to listen to some effete college wanker prattle on about how we need to be careful down here, mixed in with atrocious spanish that i gave up correcting.
after some beers and shitty but tasty fast food burritos, we walked off to the airport. it was a good walk, reminded us of missing our stop on the bus to madrid airport and having to walk a few miles back, in the process getting to hop and fence and almost get arrested for trespassing.
i slept in the airport, then on the plane, then in the houston airport, then on the plane to cancun. it equalled a full night´s sleep but didn´t feel so much like it.
exited the plane in cancun, walked out into the parking lot, and bartered the busdriver down to 5 bucks for both of us to ride into the city. on the bus we met some other activists, from mexico city and france, and all piled off the bus in the city center, just in time to meet up with the march of the peasants (via campesina).
the march had prolly more then 2000 people, and wound for a mile or so, to the blockaded entrance to the bridge to the zona hotelera, the hotel zone, a spit that extends out from the coast and is covered with puke and vomit, err actually western hotels and gringos and outback steakhouses.
the cops were behind the barricade, in full riot gear, teargas at the ready. for the last day or so the police were prohibiting locals and nationals from entering the hotel district, where the meetings are taking place. the objective was to break through and get to the convention center, to shut it down.
i must say that the march was pretty disorganized, but before long people were banging away at the fence, trying to tear it apart. there were slogans being chanted in every language you can imagine, though mainly in spanish, i recognized many from the zapatista events i went to last time i was here.
after maybe 25 minutes a section of the fence was torn way. the police popped some teargas, but not very much, all it made me do was sneeze. the crowd kept at it, jumping on the fences like angry monkeys, throwing huge chunks of concrete at the cops, who deflected with plastic shields. the cops began throwing the rocks back, which was scary as hell, cause none of us had shields. the koreans burned a wooden float/battering ram, along with some flags, and then the thing that still amazes and terrifies me came to pass.
aaron and i watched a korean man, prolly in his 40´s but who knows, climb up onto the fence. next thing you knew, he wasn´t up there, and there were shouts of ¨socorro!¨ and calls for medics and ambulances. we didn´t find out until later, but it turns out that he commited hari kari, the ritual suicide, right there on the fence. we saw the whole act on mexican television, the blood welling up and the expression on his face. and we were maybe 20 yards away. it baffles me, and aaron, and it´s hard to stop thinking about it, that this was important enough to him, or the time he chose for who knows what reasons, but he ended it all sitting on a fence, surrounded by protesters and riot cops, by pushing a knife into his own heart.
the event was at a bit of a standstill after that, some wanted to push through and fight to the meetings, some wanted a paficifistic approach, and in the end everyone pulled back to assess the situation. aaron and i were drenched with sweat, and left in search of water and food.
we pitched tents in the anti-imperialist campsite, next to some college students from the university of mexico in mexico city, the unam. good folks all, we became fast friends, planning on meeting later on to talk and maybe drink some cawambas, mexican for liter beers.
aaron had never had a chance to swim in the carribean, so we took the detour route out to the hotel zone, to jump in the water. on the bus we met a bartender from mexico city, she thought it novel that i spoke spanish, and told me she had no interest in moving to the u.s., but was looking onto going to canada instead.
after our swim we came back to eat beans and rice. aaron and i surprised the restaurant owners by eating habanero peppers, the hottest peppers known in the world, raw with our meal. that was more then 1 hour ago, and my lips have finally stopped burning, but another activist was astounded by our feat, and aaron hazarded that he could join a mexican circus as ¨the gringo with the mexican tongue.¨ i agree, he could.
our campmates lit up when we brought beer back to camp, and quickly ¨shared´ half of my bottle. we took this as a lesson, drink as fast as you can when drinking with mexico city anti-imperialists. they bought the second round, and we returned the favor.
the sound of a mexican band playing guns and roses is tickling my ears in the background, so i will take my leave, more tomorrow. they say by saturday it should get really really confrontational, and aaron and i have pretty much resigned ourselves to getting at least pepper sprayed, if not beaten a little. but just a little everyone, no need to worry.
la tierra para quien la trabaja!
dan
Posted by bendan at September 10, 2003 08:36 PM | TrackBack