Women Making a Difference

We sat in the kitchen of our host family, talking about migration. The husband of one of our hostess's sisters had moved with his family from the village of Teotitlan de Valle to the U.S. when he was ten and stayed there through college. He came back to reconnect with his roots and fell in love. They now have three children. At one point he returned to the U.S. to earn money to build a house. As one of the women pointed out, it is possible to make enough money to live, but hard to save. one of the sisters had worked in New Haven for awhile and now does domestic work in Mexico City. One brother left for the States years ago but they have never heard from him and have no idea if he is dead or alive.

Most families shared similar stories of migrating north. Some went as kids only to be deported to places they have no connection to as young adults. Some went for 20 years or more then came back to care for elders or were deported. Some found ways to go with documents, but that is terribly expensive. It is clear that there was a long history of movement back and forth across the border. Both countries thought little of it until 1) NAFTA began destroying the rural economy and 2)September 11 intensified a focus on sealing the border and criminalizing undocumented migration.

Charlie spoke of the pain of deportation, forcing him to leave behind two daughters and returning him to a place he had left when he was a small boy. 

 Our home-stay was arranged as part of our visit to a women's collective called Vida Nueva. It's current form began with a group of 14 women, some of them single, who built on the work of a previous group to help women build their own economic security through developing their own handicrafts businesses. The area is known for its weaving, but they also developed a candle business and a pastries business. The goal was to help the children in the family, especially the girls, be able to stay in school longer so they would have more opportunities. They helped the girls learn the local folk dances, and all were thrilled as they entered local dance competitions.

Women from the collective in the front row.

In 2000, after hearing ads for government programs to help local development, they decided to apply. That began a huge learning process, taking them to Oaxaca city for the first time. They got connected with NGOs and began doing more in the community on many levels. They held workshops on running a business, domestic violence, women's health issues, learning Spanish (many still speak Zapotec at home). And they began saving as a group for projects to help the collective and the community. (The community still is run in the old way, with collective decision making and required community service.)

In 2006 they decided to do a project for the community. Concerned about the impact on their health by the wood stoves in the kitchen, they worked with a student from Oregon to build ecofriendly stoves and toilets. In a year they did 30 stoves.

In 2007 they decided to place trash bins on Main Street with an awareness-raising message on them. At first there was resistance, then support from the town. The bins are still in place and the town now has added more.

One of the recycling bins near the market place.

Next was a project of care baskets for older women without children. Again, their small project grew beyond their dreams.

In 2009 they decided to tackle reforestation, beginning in a small way with the 30 trees they could afford. (tree cutting, both by local people and by timber companies has and a bad impact on the ecosystem.) Because much of the land is held in common, they had to go to the town government to ask permission for where to plant their trees. The council decided that this was a good project and that to protect the trees, everyone needed to be involved. They required a community service day for the preparing of the land and the planting. In the end 600 trees were planted and a fence built around it to,protect the small trees from grazing animals. They created a committee to care for the trees, so that they get watered every day in the dry season. Young people caught drinking too much or in other trouble may be sent to care for the trees as a way of repairing their relations with the community.

Food is a chronic problem. In a community without a lot of cash, growing your own food is a good idea. In 2011 they began a project to help people grow small gardens both to feed their families and to sell extras in the local market. They have held workshops helping people learn what they need to know food.

All of this has played a role in changing the possibilities for women in the community. Women play a more active role in the community assemblies. More girls are staying in school for longer times, and young women have access to information about health issues and domestic violence. They have ways of selling the stunning woven tapestries they make, as well as other handcrafts.  And when there is more economic security, there is less need to migrate.

It was a deeply complex visit, full of both inspiration and the sadness so families pulled apart by migration and deportation. And great beauty in the physical setting and in the crafts.

We returned today in time to see a huge (500-800 people) march through Oaxaca, ending at the nearby zocalo, of teachers, teachers in training and students protesting privatization of education, the closing of the community college (which is free, making education accessible to indigenous youth from the villages)and other education "reforms". Their energy and creativity was great! Slogan of the day "Revolution is not an act of rebellion- it is an action for justice!".

The Face of Migration

Juan sat in the small circle of our delegation, grinning self consciously at the attention, probably a little unsure what these people from the U.S. wanted to know about him. We asked a few broad questions, then, as he grew more comfortable and as we had a better sense what to ask, his story unfolded.

Juan is 22. He is from rural Guatemala. The violence there killed his mother when he was very little. His father fled to the U.S.   He hasn't heard from him since.  Juan was raised by his grandparents and spent some time in an orphanage. At 15 he headed north. When he got to the border, he worked for a bit to get the money needed, then paid someone to help him get across the border. They put a tire around him and pulled him across the river. Once in Texas he would find bits of work and kind people. Eventually was picked up at 17 and sent to a detention center, where he spent a month. "I was put in this white rabbit suit. It was one piece and had a hood. But they treated me pretty good because I was a minor."  Once back in Guatemala, he did his military service, then returned to the U.S. A priest helped him hop a train by showing he when the surveillance camera was pointed away and gave him some money to help till he found work. When ICE brought dogs to search the train he rubbed his whole body with garlic. Men nearby were picked up, but he made it undetected. He found work, found a place to say, then got an apartment. It was looking good till for a moment his youth got the better of his good judgement and he was picked up for an open container on the street and deported. This time he was warned that if caught again he would spend a year in jail.

So here he sat, one of the thousands of migrants from Central America making their way through Mexico. It was clear he felt Guatemala held no future for him. He had no family. No community. The jobs he had at 14 and 15 paid less than $3 a day which was not enough to live on let alone feed a family. In the U.S. he could work in kitchens or do agricultural work for $100 a week or more which, even with higher costs, seemed doable to him.

We asked if he had any questions of us. Yes. If caught, would he spend the year in jail or detention? We answered most likely jail. He nodded. We asked if knowing that he would still go. He shrugged. Yes. There was no reason not to try.

Juan will stay with me for a long time.

We met Juan at a shelter for migrants in Oaxaca. There are a number of these facilities across the country along the main migration routes. While they primarily serve people traveling north from other Central American countries they also sometimes assist internal migrants. They try to educate, to make sure people know what they are getting in to, assisting them with medical needs (common after the swampy crossing on the southern border of Mexico).

Memories flooded in of people I met at a similar shelter in the north who were so frighteningly unprepared for a dangerous crossing, the faces of my Guatemalan friends at home and the haunting memory of my friend Giovanni, who was killed shortly after returning to Guatemala in the very violence he had fled in the first place. It was a powerful morning.

This afternoon included a visit to RASA (food sovereignty and security in urban Oaxaca). Through mutual aid and networks people in the city support each other in community projects that involve food sovereignty, which they see as the ability to decide for ourselves what we will eat and how it will be produced. They are part of the indigenous network addressing food sovereignty throughout Mexico. Their work is so exciting.

As we reflected on our visits so far many of us commented that these amazing projects give us hope but that they seem so small in the face of the huge tsunami of neoliberal globalization.

Tomorrow we travel to Teotitlan de Valle, about an hour south east of the city. We will be visiting the Vida Nueva Cooperative, a women's weaving collective. We will spent the night in the homes of women who are in the collective and return to the city on Friday, so I won't be writing here tomorrow night.