Suggestions? 9/30/05

Sr. Urrea,

 

My name is Ryan Riedel.  I write to you because you have been a particular point of inspiration for an upcoming endeavor, and I'm hoping that you might have some advice and constructive criticism about the project I'm going to undertake.

 

To make a long story short, I'm planning on riding a mountain bike along the entire 1951 miles of the U.S./Mexico border, volunteering with various social service and human rights organizations and collecting narratives for a book.  My aims are two-fold: to not only better educate myself about border life and culture but also develop a work so that others may also share in the conversations that will come about.  The project should take at least three months, although I imagine that it will last much longer.

 

This idea came from three sources.  The first was a conversation that I had with a 21-year-old who was cycling from San Francisco to Boston.  The second was my own personal interest in the border (my mom's side of the family is from Nogales, Arizona), and the third was a seed of a thought that came about after reading _Behind the Wire_.  I really admire your work, and I'm thinking of doing something similar.

 

I plan on recording narratives with handheld recording device--stories of individuals' particular experiences, their thoughts on particular problems along the border, the kind of change they want to see in their communities, etc.  Aftering collecting those narratives, I hope to compile them into a book.  I'm still thinking about whether or not I want to make this a book of short stories. I don't want to distort anybody's voice, however I do think that it would be appropriate to include information about the circumstances in which a particular individual and myself came to meet.  The idea is that I don't want to make this a "cold" book--just a bunch of dialogues packaged together--or a book that focuses on me and my learning experience and my journey.  I want to make this book relatively warm and accessible to a diverse audience.

 

I should start this trip sometime early next week.  My idea is that this trip will tell me what kind of work is appropriate, meaning so say that I think that the book will develop a bit more organically once I'm actually on the road.  I'm just looking for some feedback from someone who "knows".

 

If you have the time and inclination, please drop me a line at this email address.  I also have a blog set up.  I'd be happy to answer any questions that you might have.

 

Thank you very much for your time.  Again, I really think a lot of you and work.  Best of luck in future writings.

 

Ryan

the plan, 8/29/05

"This is a journey.  Don't even hesitate in doing it.  You've already taken the first step in considering it."

My friends,

This email is half catch-up and half open petition.  I am currently working at the Sierra Trading Post in Cheyenne, Wyoming and living with one of my best and most gracious friends, Adam Keizer.  Some of you might remember that I had a plan to build a something-or-other in Mexico after I graduated and another to volunteer in Guatemala.  For a number of reasons, the former is still up in the air, while the latter is on hold. I've got another plan, and I need your help to make it happen.

I intend to ride a bicycle along the entire U.S./Mexico border for three months, volunteering along the way and writing a book of short stories about the people with whom I come into contact.   My aim is to better understand the effects of U.S. and Mexican immigration policy, while actively helping out nonprofit and bi-national communities.   In compiling stories, I plan to ask people what they have to say about the border—where they came from, what they've experienced and where they're going.  My dream is to eventually educate people about border life and challenge them to consider their role as global, rather than strictly national or local, citizens.

THE INEVITABLE LIFE AFTER COLLEGE

There's something about post-graduate life that leaves me laughing.  You spend four, five years planning on doing something or being somewhere after graduating—in short, having some path laid out.  That didn't quite happen for me.   I ended up spending a month wallowing in front of a T.V. in Arizona, another at youth leadership camps and visiting family, and another still in Cheyenne, riding mechanical bulls, drinking more Budweiser than I ever did in college and selling shoes at an outdoor retail store.   Who the hell graduates college as an honors student with two degrees and winds up working retail?  Wasn't I supposed to besomebody?

I guess the honest answer is no.  And yes.  Working and volunteering at those camps, I rediscovered a direction that I had lost sight of in my last year of school.   There is something about "youth" and "leader" that is interminably inspiring.  In Colorado, I grew closer to a family that I hadn't seen in ten years.   I now have irrefutable evidence that you all can blame my dad and his side for my sense of humor.  By just not going home when I said I would—by ditching two great friends and staying in town with another after Cheyenne Frontier Days ended—I've been able to tuck away some money, enjoy the company of some overwhelmingly supportive friends, and engage in many unexpected conversations that turned out to be life changing.   The wandering path I've led the past few months has taught me that I'm no "somebody"—just another guy looking for new experiences, to be closer to family and to make a difference in the world.  Somewhere along the line I realized how easy it was to do all three, and this, I realize, might separate me from many.  Such a realization makes me a humble "someone".

NOW TO DO "SOMETHING" AND BE "SOMEWHERE"…

I heard a guy speak just recently, and he said "if you pray, then move your feet."  For long enough now, I've been volunteering and working with different organizations that serve homeless and Spanish-speaking communities.   From that involvement, I've seen how much work still needs to be done—how much we, as aware and socially-responsible individuals, can care for and enable the neediest in our communities, from "top" to "bottom".

Now, the U.S./Mexico border is becoming an increasingly crazy place.  Civilian militia groups are popping up, targeting migrant groups who are trying to cross the border in search of better job opportunities and lives for their families back home.   In Arizona, thousands of would-be migrants have died in the desert, while honest individuals are prosecuted in federal courts for taking severely dehydrated survivors to hospitals.   In Texas, young women are dying by the hundreds as victims of violent acts right under the noses of two governments.  On both sides, issues of xenophobia and community health are of increasing concern, as the U.S. and Mexican governments recognize but do little to attend to shared epidemics of racism and poverty. These are just some examples.

For a while now, I've prayed for solutions to these problems but have done very little to affect any real change.   Eventually I see myself working along the border more formally as a social worker, educator and activist, but for now I've set my sights on "moving my feet."  I plan on pedaling, meeting people and helping out along the way.   I know that something needs to be done, and I know that the border offers so much life and culture.  I've just got to see it all for myself, mile by mile.

THE JOURNEY AND THE PETITION

This is where I need your help.  I have some ideas of and connections to places where I want to travel/document/help.   Intuition tells me that I'll also discover a lot along the way.  To make this trip work, though, I figure the best place to start is with the many people who, in some way or another, have contributed to this venture—you all.   I ask you simply, do you know of any places where I can volunteer, stay and learn for a week at a time?  Do you know of any people that I should talk to?  Can you think of anybody on the border with a worthwhile story to tell?

My basic plan goes something like this: travel (by car) from Cheyenne to Austin, TX on the 21st of September for a music festival.   From there, I intend to meet with faculty at UT Austin and the American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker group that is highly involved in human rights issues on the border. After that, I'll start the bike trip though Corpus Cristi to Brownsville/Matamoros on the Gulf, eventually making my way over to El Paso/Juarez on the other side of the state to talk with people about the feminicides and community health issues.   The middle of the state is open territory. 

I have no plans for New Mexico, i.e. I'd greatly appreciate suggestions.  In Arizona, I've got some early leads in the Douglas/Agua Prieta area working with a company that exports fair trade coffee beans.   I also am looking to help out with No More Deaths (Ni Una Mas) and Humane Borders, two groups in the Tucson/Nogales/Naco region that have done a lot of work with migrants crossing though the southern deserts.   I'm still searching for opportunities and interviews in the Yuma/San Luis/Somerton as well as Mexicalli and Tecate.  There are a couple of places in which I could serve in Tijuana and San Diego, although I don't really have anything solid to go on just yet (other than, again, the AFSC).  After three months, I will re-evaluate my goals and make a decision to continue the journey, stay in one place or consider another project.

RIDING WITH MY HEAD ON STRAIGHT

Some of you will say that I'm insane for doing this: the border is 1,580 miles long, I'm out of shape, I'll be traveling alone, the trip is too dangerous, I don't know shit about bikes and bicycling, I don't know shit about writing, I don't know enough Spanish, it's going to be fall/winter, I'm going to be cold, etc.   Some of these criticisms I can't get around: this isn't the safest of trips, I know, but others I'm willing to simply ignore as acceptable risks that I will struggle, work and learn through.   The thing about being on the road is that you're never quite alone: someone is almost always around to help.  I'm counting on that "almost always".  Faith in community is what is going to make this project succeed.  Or fail.

Again, this is where you all come in.  Although money isn't really an issue right now, I'm sure that it will be later.   I have saved up and am willing to finance this entire trip on my own.  However, I am actively looking for sponsors .  If you or any individual/organization you know of is willing to support this project, I would greatly appreciate your help.  I currently work at an outlet outdoor store, and I have a fantastic discount on gear.   Sponsorship would entail staking a financial claim to the equipment necessary for the trip: socks, bicycle shorts, a helmet, etc.  I imagine that gear costs (including bicycle) would total around a conservative $600, so any tax-deductible donations that a corporate body, nonprofit or individual would like to make would help immensely.   I will have a list of needed items in an email soon to come.

I'm also looking to write along the way via webblog and paper publications that take even an inkling of interest in the journey e.g. Arizona Highways, La Voz, the Arizona Republic, Latino Perspectives, etc.  If you have any other press-related connections or suggestions, please let me know.   I also plan to take pictures and put together a visual presentation that recounts the places and faces that will compose and illustrate the project.  Finding a publisher, to note, is something that I'm going to have to work out on the way.  

A GUY'S GOT TO HAVE A DREAM, RIGHT?

This is my plan and this is my dream.  I want to know what individuals along the border have to say about their own communities in their own words, not from a textbook or news blurb.   I hope to be able to help them as they see fit and eventually educate and encourage others to do the same.  I dream that I can engender free thought and social activism to the benefit of individuals and cultures along the border and beyond.

Taking this trip and writing this book is one way to accomplish this dream.  It is my way.   I have no ambitions of being a Che Guevarra, a Lance Armstrong or a Kurt Vonnegut.  I have ambitions to live a life of service as the person that I am and hope to become, alternately ambitious, respectful and considerate.

Somebody once said that your success is directly proportionate to the amount of help you are willing to ask of those around you.   You all have had a profound impact upon my life thus far, so I am entirely willing to ask you of your help and guidance still.  For this project to be successful, it must be about more than me and my project and my journey.   It must be about you; it must be about us; it must be about diminishing thethem.  I invite any suggestions and criticisms that you have.  

April 10th, 2006

On April 10th, millions of people marched in support of undocumented immigrants. Almost without expection, the demonstrations were both peaceful and awe-inspiring. Almost.

Of all the cities across the United States, Tucson proved to be the lone exception. After the procession concluded, several thousand people (15,000 by some estimated) convened for a rally at Armory Park in downtown Tucson. Much to everyone's surprise, the Border Guardians, a splinter group of the Minuteman Project and Minuteman Civil Defense Corps., situated themselves in the center of the park with the intentions of burning a Mexican flag. They had done the same the day before at the Mexican consulate. Talk about a fire starter. 

Spearheaded by Derechos Humanos, the Border Action Network and No More Deaths, the local April 10th Coalition provided security ("Peacekeepers") for the march and rally, and immediately encircled the Border Guardians to protect them from any potentially violent response from the marchers. The Border Guardians shifted their position to a set of shuffleboard courts at the entrance of the park, and they remained in the protection of Peacekeepers and, later, the local police until the unfortunate end of the rally. 

On a weekend break from Three Points, I volunteered as a Legal Observer for the Coalition. In short, I documented the rising tension in the crowd as it came to a head: a sixteen-year-old girl was arrested for trying to douse the Mexican flag with the spray from her water bottle. Some of the water hit a policeman, he considered it assault, and a cadre of officers hauled the girl off through the middle of the rally. One young Latino male apparently came too close to the squad car in which the girl was to be detained, and he was thrown by an officer and beaten. Several others were also thrown violently or beaten. 

To memory, six marchers were charged with misdemeanor offenses. All were either given a plea bargain or acquitted.

Conversation with Erin, 5/10/06

3:08 AM erin: i love to hear how your border-life evolves.

3:09 AM how have you been?

 me: oh, do i have stories for you: life, death, love, heartbreak, minutemen, migrants...

3:11 AM my soul is taxed lately. the last few months have been nothing short of heavy. i'm drinking beer, though. lots.

3:12 AM erin: i can't wait to come back home...we will just have to plan on a really long, lovely all-night session of global south beauty and horror and heaviness of being.

3:15 AM erin: it's strange. a conversation earlier this week illuminated solutions to the question that I have spent the last year trying to answer. I feel compelled to do something with that information besides just let it change my thinking (which it has) and reorder my understanding of struggle (which it is)...I just don't know what yet, how I want to or can engage.

3:17 AM me: that's what we call "staring into the void". you've got to do something. just what is it?

3:18 AM erin: excellent question. i'm not quite prepared to buy a bike, but I certainly can't return home for long...

3:19 AM me: you can't come home again. you can't.

3:20 AM erin: ah, there's the rub....hey, do you talk to people on the border about the heaviness you feel? you aren't just inhaling all of their pain and leaving it to sit inside you? You have people to express to sit with and unburden, right?

3:25 AM me: yes and no. some of my companeros are in the same mess. they do this work, whatever it is, and let it consume them. i have our friends here. i have friends along the border who understand how important it is to drink a lot of beer at times. i've been really angry lately, and i've been trying to let go for the past few days. it takes work and time.

3:30 AM erin: cheers to Oatmeal Stout!...I imagine beer comes in handy, but I also imagine it doesn't help that much most of the time.

3:34 AM me: it does and it doesn't. riding a bike is good. making love to women is good. talking about dead men and minutemen and migrants is good. the opportunities aren't always available, but when they come, i accept.

b101 pictures -- the U.S.-Mexico border, Mexico, Guatemala and Ecuador

Border 102: The 102nd Voice

I now find myself sitting in an airplane on my way to the United States. With my Danish passport, it’s so easy for me. It feels too easy when I think about what migrants go through to get to the same place.

I’m going to Arizona to experience the border between the United States and Mexico. I hope that I’ll be lucky enough to share in the company of people like those I met on the other border. This has been an important time for me, and I hope with this 102nd voice that I can pass on some of theknowledge that I gained.

Mia

Border 102: Casa de Migrantes, Ixtepec

Four days later we arrived at the Casa de Migrantes, situated outside the city along the railway. The albergue had just been created and was little more than a dirt field, the skeleton of a chapel, a shed full of food and blankets, and a place to sit in the shade. Father Alejandro greeted us. He was dressed in white from head to toe and carried a cross around his neck. Even though he didn’t look like it, he was seventy-two.

He invited us into the shade where a few other people were sitting. Two were a couple from Honduras. In the conversation between them, Father Alejandro, Father John, and some of the volunteers, I learned three important things about migration:

--Father John: It’s extremely difficult to get a work permit and only migrants with work permits, he said, pay taxes. Migrants will come through anyway, so if migrants came through on a work permit the state would get something out of it as well.
--Father Alejandro: Migrants stay longer and longer in the U.S. because it’s so hard to get there. When they finally arrive, they stay for longer and longer periods.
--The Honduran couple: “The United States is a good place to work, but we (migrants) don’t want to live there.”After two days in Ixtepec, a train arrived with hundreds of migrants. Some of them recognized us.

Ryan and I helped direct people to the Casa del Migrante, where they picked up food, water and medical supplies, and after three hours they jumped onto another train to continue on their travels.

This time Ryan and I heard the whistle in time to see the train take off with the migrants. As the train took off, we saw migrants running and jumping on the train, and people waiving from the top of the freight cars. It was a very special moment. Even though there is so much difficulty in the migrants’ journey, there was so much joy in their faces as they left.

When we came back to the Casa, I learned my last lesson along the Guatemala-Mexico border. There was a conversation between the volunteers and the migrants. One volunteer tried to explain how important it was for the immigrants to maintain their hygiene, take showers, wash their clothes and look proper. Then a tall gentleman from Nicaragua stood up and said that, for him, it was important to look like a migrant. When people see migrants dressed well, he said, they think to themselves that it’s not hard to be a migrant. It doesn’t look hard to be a migrant but it is hard, he said. “It’s not the hunger, the thirst, or the sickness. It’s that we have to leave our country and our families behind.”

Border 102: Casa de la Misericordia, Arriaga

After a five-hour bus ride from Tapachula, Lois, Ryan and I arrived in Arriaga. Juan, a young volunteer from Casa de la Misericordia, greeted us. Right away he took us to the railway in the center of the city, where we got the opportunity to meet with the migrants and talk with them about their journeys. The migrants had been waiting for a train that leaves every three days. For some it was their second or third attempt at reaching the States without luck. Others had been deported and separated from their families in the United States.

After some heavy conversation we turned to a light game of soccer. Players from Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua and El Salvador all came together, with a spice of Danish and North American. For those two hours, I forgot what these people were going through. I heard that migrants are categorized as terrorists and criminals, but in these moments I realized that they were just people chasing a dream for a better life as they were chasing soccer balls. Now we were all just playing this game, fighting together to win.

I was the only woman there, but Juan told us that ten percent of the migrants passing through Arriaga are women—women who experience a lot of discrimination, women who are robbed, women who are raped. They go through such an inhuman travel to reach a human life, I thought to myself. The three of us left at the whistle of the train, a whistle that rang loudly to us because we knew what it meant to the migrants.

Later we were invited to speak with Father Heyman Vásquez. He started the albergue two and a half years ago. When the migrants come to the albergue, they often are very tired, hungry and sick because of the long walk from the border. They often spend two to three days at the albergue to recover before they seek the railway at the center of the city and wait for the next train to leave.

The Father has seen a lot of migrants and how they are treated. “Where are human rights?” he asked us. Migrants, he said, can’t really do anything about the corruption and violence of the police. “La situación de los inmigrantes es terrible.” He wishes that the government would spend more money on something to solve this problem, for example, by giving more money to the under-funded Grupo Beta.

From inside the office, we could hear the train give another long, loud whistle. We ran outside to say goodbye, but when we reached the railway the train had already passed and the migrants were on their way to their next stop: Ixtepec, Oaxaca.

Border 102: Casa del Buen Pastor, Tapachula

Later in the afternoon we went to Casa del Buen Pastor, more commonly referred to as Casa de Doña Olga, a place for migrants who fought for a future that the trains took away.

The migrants who come to Doña Olga’s have lost limbs or suffered severe injury while attempting the northward journey by train. There are approximately twenty checkpoints on the highway between Tapachula and Mexico City, so the railways have become a popular—although more dangerous—means for Central American migrants to avoid contact with authorities that might extort or deport them. Because of the exhausts of basic human needs—dehydration, hunger and a lack of sleep—and the malvados along the way—gangs, thieves and police—migrants often fall off or are thrown off the trains. Many become amputees, and there are no official services available to take care of them.

Casa del Buen Pastor began almost twenty years ago when Doña Olga recognized the need to take care of the amputees. Beautiful and graying, she started Casa del Buen Pastor after she herself survived a life-threatening sickness. It has never been easy and to this day she still has to fight for the survival of the albergue. Although some non-government organizations have helped considerably, in Doña Olga ’s words, both the government and local church has closed its eyes to the amputees. The International Red Cross doesn’t provide them with anything either. If the albergue wants to buy blood, it’s more expensive to buy from The International Red Cross than it is from the hospital.

The albergue, however, takes care of more than just their guests’ medical needs. Most of the migrants are farmers and are used to using their bodies as tools, tools that the train has taken away from them. Volunteers teach them technical and language skills so that they can develop new tools to make a living in the future.

“Mi elemento de vivir!”, Doña Olga told us. “Mis hermanos, mis gentes, mis familias….los migrantes!” ("My essense of life! My brothers and sisters, my people, my families... the migrants!"

Border 102: Militares and Balseros, Ciudad Hidalgo and Tecún Uman

The next morning we grabbed a colectivo and went to Ciudad Hidalgo and Tecún Uman, two of the most visited cities on the Mexico-Guatemala border. There we saw the cat and mouse game in action. As people crossed the Suchiate River “illegally” on inflatable rafts, the Mexican military watched but didn’t do anything to stop them.

It’s a forbidden but obvious traffic. Well-dressed people board the balsas to get to work; others start their journey through Mexico; and behind it all there are armed militares there supervise the crossings, but at no point do they interfere. A few hundred meters from the official border checkpoint, it’s everyday life at the river.

For those making their way toward the United States, the next move is a three-hundred-kilometer walk across Chiapas to catch the trains in Arriaga. It hasn’t always been this way. In 2005, Hurricane Stan hit the coast of Chiapas and destroyed the railway from Tecún Uman to Arriaga. Some Central American migrants decide to take the trains in the north of the state, but for others the journey has become even more difficult.

Border 102: Albergue Belén, Tapachula

If there’s a lack of information about people trying to come from Central America to the United States, there are teachers in this world trying to inform us. Father Flor María is one of them. He is a Scalabrini Brother with a long flowing robe and an even longer flowing beard. With his hands up in the air and a cross around his neck, he is the eccentric director of Albergue Belén in Tapachula.

Fr. Flor María said that the Albergue was a springboard for the migrants to continue their travel and an umbrella to protect them. They provide migrants with food and a roof over their heads for three days as they go into Mexico, the hardest country for Central Americans to pass before going into the United States.

The father had a lot of stories to tell us about migrants, some who reached the United States and others who had to try over and over again. He’s seen it all. He talked about the corruption in Mexico—a corruption so bad that he considered Mexico a “cemetery without crosses”. He said that it was a cat-and-mouse game for the police and migrants: the cats get fat and the mice keep on running.

Even though this world of migrants had so much bad in it, Fr. Flor María still believed in the Zapatistas. He thought of the group of indigenous rebels as the “revolution of tomorrow”.

Border 102: Grupo Beta, Tapachula

We met with Francisco Aceves Verdugo, the director of Grupo Beta in Tapachula. With a thin mustache and his hair slicked back, he told us that Grupo Beta is a branch of the Mexican immigration services. The government started a pilot program in 1990 in Tijuana and moved southward to Tapachula in 1996. They did it to provide migrants with basic human rights protections at both the American and Guatemalan borders —first aid, legal representation, etc.

In the beginning Grupo Beta agents carried weapons and were authorized to arrest traffickers. But there was an inherent conflict between guns and the job of working with migrants. If a criminal comes to a doctor with a wound, it’s not the doctor’s job to judge the crime. It’s her or his job to treat the wound. Grupo Beta is a doctor disposed to a national illness of migration. For the coyotes and drug runners there is always the military, but for migrants there is now Grupo Beta. It can be corrupt, but it is one of the few resources available to migrants.

Border 102: an introduction

Border 102

I’m sitting in a cab. I don’t know exactly where I’m going. I’m with Lois, Jody and, of course, Ryan, and we are on our way to Grupo Beta. Lois is with the Samaritans; Jody is with No More Deaths; Ryan does what Ryan does; and I have no clue what Grupo Beta actually is. All I know is that I am with these three people from Arizona and they all have a vision of creating a more human border. I am here to learn from them and with them.

I started my travel three months ago, and I was going to this faraway place of Central America. The bible of my trip was a Lonely Planet. I had nothing planned. I wanted to see the culture and know the reality of this subcontinent, but with the Lonely Planet in my backpack it became a tour of ruins, beaches and hostels.

After five weeks of backpacking in Mexico, I arrived in Guatemala and left my Lonely Planet behind. That was when I met Ryan. He introduced me to another world of migrants, Zapatistas and NAFTA, and his bicycling “Border 101” project that somehow connected them all together.

What is the border?, I thought to myself. What is migration? I am Danish. Migration is not an issue for Danish people like it is for those in this side of the world, especially in Arizona. People migrate to Europe from Africa, but Denmark is too far and too small for many to notice. Migrants often go to Spain and France.

But here I am sitting in this cab, heading off to my first lesson on the Mexico- Guatemala border.

Border 102: Experiential Midwifery

While it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, we may also assume that, to all things, there is a statute of limitations. An absence too long felt is but a memory, and memories too often fade away. So I write in the hopes that we arrive at either a fondness or an exception--that you, dear reader, will rejoice in the rebirth of the Border 101 site or at least be willing to shake the dust off these brilliant blogs.

Did you miss me?

Truth be told, much of the work has been done for me with the following posts. Consider me a widwife with these words. I offered an experience and Mia Pallisgaard Hansen, Border 101 intern (also known as Border 102), put down the stories. Mia and I traveled together along the Mexico-Guatemala border in March '07. Grupo Beta, revolutionary priests, the "visualy selective" Mexican military, raft-riding migrants, the amputees at Dona Olga's, the train hoppers: you'll find them all here. Enjoy.

Chiapas, Mexico: on the hiatus

Compañeros y compañeras, everybody,

To the few and bold followers of this blog, I hope that you all are well. Perhaps this post will answer some questions for you, particularly on why I haven't been publishing anything recently.

I'm currently in Chiapas, Mexico. At the turn of the year I will attend the Intergalactico, an international encounter put on by the Zapatistas. I'm hoping to learn from and with global contingent of adherents to the Zapatista cause--against the grinding machinery of neoliberalism and for a "world in which fit many worlds". This is propagandistic at best, in my words, by the idea is to learn about a model of resistence that has worked and continues to work with an oppressed population.

I stopped blogging, more or less, in August. Since then I've spent a few weeks with No More Deaths in Tucson and Arivaca. I returned to the desert to talk with Minutemen and ranch owners. I made my way to El Paso and Juarez not once but twice for the Border Social Forum (Foro fronterizo social) and a stop with the Other Campaign, a listening tour by Zapatista spokesman Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos a.k.a. Delegado Zero. From there, I followed the Subcomandante through northern Mexico, made my way to Mexico City, visited friends in a Nahuatl-speaking community in Guerrero and found myself here. For the next few months I will be writing, revisiting and slowing making my way up north. From there, as always, we'll see what happens.

I've started writing the book. The working title is "Border 101", to no surprise. It will include 100 "voices"--transcribed and translated conversations--from the border and below. The 101st will be my own. I also write as a "zero voice" to accompany the different "chapters" or groups of voices in my life on the border.

Right now I have what we call in Spanish a "rompecabezas"--a "head burster". Photos, video, audio, you name it. In the future, I'll be able to sit down and put it all on this site. For now, however, I've convinced myself to become content with learning and living, rather than being overtly and excessively productive. The way I figure it, I have to develop a voice before I use it. For me, this means relative separation from internet cafes, web publishing software and, unfortunately for some, blogging. Know that I am putting my mind and soul to good use, however. You'll just have to be patient to see what comes out of this.

I appreciate all your support and guidance over these last few months, now years. I plan to be done with everything by the end of this upcoming summer. I love you all more than space here allows for me to say. Take care of yourselves and eachother. I'll write more in the future. I will need help. Know that I will do whatever I can for you.

Peace and rebeldía,
Ryan

for Teri's class...

Speech given by Joseph Nevins to the Coalicion de derechos humanos (Human Rights Coalition) in Tucson. Boundary Enforcement and National Security
in an Age of Global Apartheid.

Douglas Massey, The Walls that Keep Illegal Immigrants In. If you don't want to pay, try googling it.


From here on down, these sites are great resources. You can also subscribe to their listserves.

International Relations Center Americas Program: http://americas.irc-online.org/ Solid reporting on Latin America.

Southern Poverty Law Center: http://www.splcenter.org/intel/intelreport/intrep.jsp. Check out the Roy Warden article. He's nuts.

Narconews: http://www.narconews.com. Lot's of Zapatista, Oaxaca and Atenco coverage. "Below and to the left".

Frontera Norte Sur News (FNS News): http://www.nmsu.edu/~frontera/. The listserve is on hiatus, but they provide fantastic news reviews.

I'll get back to you on Peter Shay's site.

The Minuteman crowd:

Minuteman Civil Homeland Defense: http://www.minutemanhq.com/. Check out the blog/forum for key insight.

Minuteman of One: http://www.minutemanofone.blogspot.com/. Headed by Fred "shoot a couple of 'em bastards and they'll learn" Pucket.

Mothers Against Illegal Aliens: http://www.mothersagainstillegalaliens.org/. Head by Michelle "they're bringing leprosy into the United States" Dallacroce.

The Border Guardians: http://www.borderguardians.org/index.php. Headed by Roy "Rott Weiler" or "I will blow your freaking head off" Warden.

words from subcomandante marcos in tijuas, Spanish

Buenas noches Tijuana.

No, el honor es mío de haber estado en estas tierras. Voy a contarles una mentira, que es la que estamos viviendo en todo el país. Porque muchos de ustedes, si no es que todos, están trabajando y cada día que pasa ven que nada mejora. Y resulta que hay negocios y empresas aquí en Tijuana y en todo el país. Y hay un negocio y una empresa que no paga impuestos y que está llena de corruptos, que son los partidos políticos.

Lo que hemos escuchado en estos días que hemos estado en Baja California, nos lleva a pensar que el gobierno de Baja California es una vergüenza para nuestro país. Estuvimos en el Valle de San Quintín, donde el gobierno de Baja California dice que hay migrantes, y descubrimos otra Oaxaca: indígenas organizados y explotados, como si estuviéramos en la época del porfiriato.

Estuvimos también en el Cañón de Buenavista. Unos indígenas también de varios lugares de Oaxaca y de Chiapas, que ni siquiera habían reconocido su derecho a la tierra que llevan desde hace 16 años habitando. Peleando porque haya luz, porque haya agua, porque haya drenaje, y nada.

Y estuvimos también en La Zorra con el pueblo Kumiai, y escuchamos cómo les están despojando de la tierra, mientras que el gobierno de Baja California dice que en este estado no hay indígenas.

Estuvimos también donde está la regasificadora, que si hay una desgracia la gente que va a morir no es la gente que está arriba, sino la que está abajo.

Estuvimos en Ensenada y escuchamos mucho dolor. Y estuvimos aquí en Tijuana y escuchamos historias que dan rabia y vergüenza, como da rabia y vergüenza lo que hemos escuchado en todo el país.

Todos sabemos lo que nos está ocurriendo en nuestro trabajo, en nuestra casa, en la escuela. Nos cuentan que el salario anda por 100, 105 pesos al día en maquiladoras, ocho horas de trabajo. La cuenta que traemos nosotros: que para vivir decentemente se necesitan 485 pesos al día.

Y lo sabemos que sube la cuenta de la luz, del gas, del transporte. Todas las cosas que vamos consumiendo, que necesitamos para mal vivir.

Y nos platica un compañero aquí de Tijuana, de edad, ya mayor de edad, y nos dice que trabajó 45 años y ahora la pensión que recibe es de mil 600 pesos. Que va al Seguro Social y lo humillan, lo tratan mal, le recetan una medicina que además no tiene el Seguro Social y que tiene que ir a comprar a una farmacia y le cuesta 400 pesos y le dura 10 días. En el mes se tiene que gastar mil 200 pesos en medicina, y le quedan 400 pesos.

Y el señor Vicente Fox, que estuvo seis años haciéndose tarugo en la presidencia de la República, va a recibir una pensión de 3 millones 350 mil pesos. Y son tres las cosas que hizo Vicente Fox en su gobierno: comprarle las toallas a Martha Sahagún, uno. Proteger a los hijos criminales de Martha Sahagun, los hermanos Bribiesca. Y tres: imponer a Felipe Calderón como presidente de la República.

Entonces, resulta que en este país, un criminal recibe 3 millones 350 mil pesos de pensión por seis años de crímenes. Y un trabajador con 45 años de trabajo recibe la humillación y el desprecio del país al que sirvió tanto tiempo.

Y nosotros sabemos que quienes nos están escuchando no son criminales, son trabajadores. Si fueran criminales estarían en la presidencia municipal de Tijuana o en el palacio de gobierno de Baja California.

Nosotros estamos recorriendo el país, compañeros, todo el país. Venimos desde la otra esquina, desde Chiapas, desde las montañas del sureste mexicano. No estamos pasando a los centros turísticos, ni hablando con los políticos, porque nosotros hablamos sólo con gente decente.

Y estamos descubriendo, y el país que estamos descubriendo no tiene nada que ver con el que Vicente Fox está anunciando en la televisión. Ni con aquel que dice que va a gobernar Felipe Calderón, que no va a llegar al 2012.

Lo que estamos viendo es otro país: lleno de dolor, que quiere rebelarse y que está harto por todas partes. Lo que estamos viendo es que el gobierno de Vicente Fox lo único que hizo en los seis años es cargar sobre las espaldas de los mexicanos y chicanos que están trabajando al otro lado de la frontera no sólo el peso de sostener la economía norteamericana, sino que además ahora sostienen la economía mexicana.

Cómo es posible que además a esa gente se le persiga con la migra de aquel lado y con la migra de este lado. No es posible que la gente que está trabajando en estos comercios todo el día, honestamente, con empeño, no pueda vivir decentemente mientras los políticos están viviendo de no hacer nada y cada vez se enriquecen más.

Lo que nosotros queremos es conocer a México, al México de abajo, escucharlo. Nosotros no estamos proponiendo nada, no les estamos diciendo que hay que poner de candidato a Marcos, o a otro, al que sea. No estamos promoviendo un partido político. Nosotros no queremos tener el gobierno, queremos tumbarlo y lo vamos a hacer.

Queremos derrocar al gobierno municipal de Tijuana, al gobierno del estado de Baja California, y al gobierno de la República, y al gobierno de todos los estados, así como los oaxaqueños están por derribar a Ulises Ruiz en Oaxaca.

Y en su lugar ¿qué? ¿En su lugar otro que venga a engañarnos? Otro que venga a decirnos… Porque nosotros estamos diciendo aquí en la Otra Campaña que no queremos líderes, no queremos nadie que nos mande, ni queremos mandar a nadie.

Queremos que la misma comunidad en cada lugar decida cómo se va a gobernar, y decida qué es lo que se va a hacer. Porque descubrimos que en Tijuana hay mucha riqueza, y no la tienen los tijuanenses. Entonces, alguien se está quedando con esa riqueza. A lo mejor el banco HSBC que está ahí enfrente. Los banqueros, los grandes políticos, y los grandes empresarios.

Y ayer en la mañana que fuimos a orinarnos en la barda de la frontera —que eso fue lo que fuimos a hacer— nosotros nos dimos cuenta que la barda está para que nosotros los que estamos de este lado no nos crucemos de aquel lado, porque los gabachos cruzan como quieren con todo su capital. Y vimos en toda la península muchas empresas con capital norteamericano.

Y nosotros decimos: ¿dónde está la soberanía de esto que llamamos patria? ¿quién la está defendiendo y quién la va a defeder?

Y nosotros decimos que para que podamos vivir felices, para que no tengamos que vivir con la angustia. Si somos jóvenes vamos con la angustia de a ver cuándo nos va a levantar la tira, y cuánto nos va a bajar. Si a ver no nos va a despedir el patrón en la maquiladora o en la empresa donde estamos trabajando.

Si somos mujeres, con la angustia de ver si no nos van a agredir, a secuestrar, a violar o a asesinar. Si somos ancianos con la angustia a ver si vamos a poder encontrar algo para el día siguiente, para vivir con dignidad. Como niños, como estudiantes, con la angustia de ver si va a haber educación. Y como cualquier trabajador, con la angustia de si vamos a poder vivir. Y como ama de casa con la angustia de si va a alcanzar el gasto para el otro día.

Y no podemos seguir viviendo con esa angustia por tanto tiempo. Ni podemos, ni debemos pensar que alguien va a venir a resolver lo que tenemos que resolver por nosotros mismos.

Lo que se propone la Otra Campaña es eso: que cada pueblo, cada comunidad, cada barrio, tome en sus manos su propio destino y tome sus decisiones.

Se trata en breves palabras de acabar de destruir con el México que ahora es una vergüenza, el México de Fox y de Calderón, y construyamos otro México, sin esos políticos, sino con la gente de abajo. Con ustedes y con nosotros.

Gracias compañeros, gracias compañeras.



Fuente de informacion:



www.ezln.org

Tucson, AZ: National Guard troops and "entry identification teams"

I spent half of last week with the Tucson-based No More Deaths in Nogales, Sonora, and I was suprised to see National Guard humvees and tents nestled into the hills next to border fencing and ports of entry. From everything that I had heard from and read in the media, the National Guard troops were deployed to the border in a strictly supportive role. They would build and maintain roads, map what poorly-charted terrain, and take part in behind-the-scenes operational activities--filing paperwork, monitoring border sensors, etc. This was all well and good from a public relations standpoint, but it didn't explain the presence of heavy-duty war-time vehicles and camouflaged troops just yards away from the border itself. "A crock of bullshit," I thought to myself.

I called up the Tucson-sector Border Patrol, and they connected me with Major Fay Ludens, a public information officer with the Army National Guard. She told me that a number of deployments have come to the border as "rotational staff". Troops from Arizona and New York left after three-week stints, while others from Virgina and Kentucky will be in the Tucson sector for weeks still.

The Virginia deployment, I wasn't suprised to find, is operating in "entry identification teams"--four person units that are the "eyes and ears for the Border Patrol," said Ludens. They sit on the border in strategic areas and call up B.P. agents when they see people crossing.  "They are strictly in a support role," Ludens reiterated. 

Unfortunately, that's not what I heard from migrants as they were returned to the Mexican side of the line. One group was quite adamant that they were detained by National Guard troops. The would-be migrants said that the troops came across their group in the early morning, corraled them, and had them in their custody for fifteen minutes before Border Patrol agents arrived. When asked if the detainers might have been BORSTAR operatives--a search and rescue contingent of the Border Patrol that, in their camouflaged uniforms, might be mistaken for soldiers--one individual said that they clearly identified themselves as National Guard troops.

Although the group didn't report any particular instances of abuse while in the soldiers' detention, one major abuse remains clear: if the story checks out, National Guard troops violated the law. 

 The Posse Comitamus Act of 18-- makes it unlawful for military personnel to actively police within the domestic United States. If the National Guard the migrants into custody within our borders, they would have acted in direct conflict with that law. Such an act would demonstrate complete disregard for the Constitutional rights extended to all people within the United States--citizens, undocumented migrants or otherwise.

Whether or not the National Guard detained the migrants without legal authorization, the character behind police-state enforcement tactics is pervasive.  I relayed this story to a No More Deaths volunteer.  "So, the National Guard troops are just like the Minutemen," he said.  "They watch and wait for people to come across, and they call Border Patrol whenever they spot someone." "Yeah," I replied, and then I cringed. In my

personal experience, I've observed Minutemen detain not only migrants but also journalists and hikers. I've watched them assume and abuse rights that are not theirs. I've seen how the media reports them, I know their rhetoric, and I can testify that what they say and what is said about them only infrequently matches up with the reality of their behavior.

For this reason, I am wholly concerned about the National Guard troops on the border. If the troops received an executive order to carry out similar functions for another three years, as I was told by a reporter who spoke with the head of the Kentucky National Guard, the possibility that abuses will occur is greatly enhanced.  In any case, their presence is now status quo.

Chandler, AZ: update

Home sweet home.

To say that Arizona is wrought with political and social tension is an understatement. Arizonans feel the stress of immigration and border issues in their classrooms, their restaurants and their places of work. For many, the stress is pervasive, difusing from their local environment into their daily actions. For some, the Spanish-speaker down the street, monolingual or otherwise, is a stranger, an alien--nothing short of an incarnation of what shouldn't be in the United States. For others, that same person is part of a freshly charged and united community, regardless of his or her ethnicity or status within this nation's borders.

Ethnicity, status. Race, documentation. There's more to the border and immigration debate than just issues of economy and national security. Communities are split. Tensions are high. Comprehensive immigration reform might patch together broken policy, but it's not going to heal my state.

I'm not sure where you start.  The last two weeks have been busy.

Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio organized his posse to arrest undocumented migrants, President Bush declared a controversial plan to place up to 6,000 National Guard troops on the border, and the rhetoric continued from the Minuteman camp and their splinter groups. Chris Simcox and the Minutemen claimed that they still have plans to construct border fences, while Roy Warden and his Border Guardians have threatened to "blow the heads off" any "Mexican" or pro-immigrant activist that interferes with their operations.

At Tucson-area high school, Dolores Huerta, a longtime Latino civil rights activist, proclaimed that "Republicans hate Latinos." The school countered by bringing in a Republican Latina to speak about the merits of the Republican party--how proud she was to be a Republican, etc. MEChA (Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlan) students wore shirts emblazoned with messages of support for Huerta, duct-taped their mouths, and walked out.

Tonight (Wednesday), the Sheriff's posse is meeting to wrangle up some new volunteers. Tomorrow, G Dub is venturing down to Yuma, Arizona, much to the delight of the local community. 

Where to start?  I'll be at both events.

Tucson, AZ: "accident" or foul play?

This is scary. Check out the A.P. article below on a immigrant who, contrary to the evidence given by his family, shot and killed himself.

Someone needs to do some serious investigation of what happened. If he was a migrant and if he was shot, my guess is that a ranchowner or vigilante could have pulled the trigger.

This just doesn't sound right. Not at all. I'd be interested to hear what the official word is from the Border Patrol as well.

Illegal Immigrant Found Dead in Desert Apparently Shot Himself
May 9th, 2006 @ 6:18am
by Associated Press
An illegal immigrant found dead in the desert south of Tucson apparently died from an accidental self-inflicted gunshot wound.

The Pima County Sheriff's Office says Reymundo Beltran-Aispuro died in a remote area after he entered the country Friday with his cousin and a group of other illegal entrants.

The cousin, Israel Beltran-Aispuro, told deputies they were crossing a fence when someone shouted ``stop,'' and then there was a gunshot.

The cousin says Reymundo Beltran-Aispuro then yelled that he'd been hit.

One member of the group used a cell phone to call relatives in California, who informed the Border Patrol.

Homicide detectives were still awaiting final autopsy results yesterday from the Office of the Medical Examiner