la vida rural

this whole past week our group was in Amatlan, which I have written about before -- its the indigenous community that has retained a lot of the communal land and has a strong organizing history. Anyway, we stayed for a week with families there and took small day trips to other communities in the state of Morelos to talk to rural people about farming, land, water, immigration, the environment, and so on. the meetings were pretty amazing. we talked to a 72 year old woman who is not married and still plants corn every year. she talked a lot about why she sticks to traditional ways of farming and does not use transgenic corn (which the government pressure farmers to grow). the transgenic corn (and some of you might know this already) does not allow farmers to collect seeds to plant the next year, and forces them to buy new seed every year. meanwhile, the government is trying to take the seeds that campesinos have developed over thousands of years to make a seed bank -- so essentially they are asking indigenous farmers to give their good seeds to them and grow transgenic corn. man, there is so much more that I could write about her and other people that we visited, but I want to write about the family that I stayed with, because I love them SO MUCH.

first of all, the really ironic, sad, and humbling things about visiting with and talking to Mexican people is that EVERY SINGLE PERSON says, "Our doors are always open to you, whenever you come back to Mexico, please seek us out if you need anything, or just want to say hi. this is the beginning of a relationship, a friendship, and we hope you have the trust and confidence to seek us out." Ok, first of all what a contrast to the United States. how often do we say that? and also, these people who are opening their homes and lives to us cannot even come to visit us if they wanted to. our policies to don't permit us to give back the same hospitality and the same warmth that we are received with here. when they do come to our country, we push them down, raid their homes, take advantage of them, and treat them like criminals. such an injustice.

so anyway, the family that I stayed with was so nice, kind, and welcoming that I didn't want to come back to Cuernavaca today. there are tons of people who live on their property, and I think that is one of the things that I liked best, the family was really close to one another and there was always someone in the kitchen willing to talk. First, there was the mom and dad, Doña Chimina and Don Bonaficio. They have six children, 5 of whom I met. 3 of their sons are married, and two live with their wives and children on the same property. Then there are two single sons, one who runs an internet cafe (more like a room with computers and revolutionary symbols on the wall) and one that works in a traditional medicine clinic. I shared the family with another girl from the program, and since we were feeling a little sick Raul took us to the clinic and she got some medicine (made from plants, yes). I have been feeling fine so didn't get anything (unfortunately, right? haha). to top it off there were 5 dogs, roosters and chickens, 2 turkeys, and a cat that is about to have kittens. so its a very full house, and I just had the best conversations with them about migration, what it is like to live in the US, what it is like to live in Canada, music, traveling, politics, all of it.

The oldest brother, who I didn't talk to that much because he and his family live in their own house at the bottom of the property talked with the group about his migration experience. he had gone to the US fives times, all illegally. he crossed through the desert, walking 3 days and nights and sleeping when he could, with little food and water. one time when he was walking he saw a human skeleton. can you imagine? being torn away from your family and newly born kids because there is no work available where you live, and seeing a skeleton and wondering if you are going to die and never see your family again? unbelievable. and then when he got to the United States, he made some friends, but the general feeling was one of being humiliated, put down, treated like a criminal, an animal. he cried when he told of how hard it was to not see his kids grow up, while he was working in the US. he just returned in December, and said he hopes he never goes back. and I just felt so ashamed of my country that he would be treated like that, but also so ashamed at the privilege that a lot of us have to never have to think of living our lives like that. and I sincerely hope that he never does have to go back, because it tears people's hearts in two. and I guess a reason why I didn't talk to him much at the house is that I didn't want to give him any reminder of the United States. I felt that by seeing me, he would be reminded of how small he was made to feel and how sad he was to be away from his family, and I didn't want to put that on him again, even if I did want to talk to him more about his experiences.

yesterday and today they were all like, "are you ever coming back? please come and visit us? how long are you in Mexico for? we will wait for you." And I do really want to go back because that is the best I have felt this whole time. I had to speak Spanish the whole time, and I really like the atmosphere of a close family. I think I am going to go back for a few days over Spring Break. On March 19th there is a festival where people walk across the mountain range that the town is built up against, and they walk over to the town on the other side where there is a festival. so, I think I am going to try and make that. I just have to work on my mountain hiking abilities (ahh!). I want to go back right now!

In other news, I might be starting my internship on Monday! Keep posted…
Miss you all!!