Oaxaca Civil Unrest Grows as Another Group Begins Voicing its Discontent

Our neighborhood meeting was scheduled for 6:00 PM: Not knowing if that meant 6:00 o’clock Mexican time (which would be between 8 and 10, with a variation for whether one acknowledges neoliberal, or daylight savings, time) or 6:00 USA time, I stepped out my front door at 6:00. Two other women on our street were also leaving their houses, so I was at least in the right time zone for the discussion of what to do about the lack of water.

The meeting was held in the local vegetarian restaurant (no food, just jamaica to drink) and when we entered there were already several people seated around the tables, with the neighborhood president in the corner. Between her and me, half a dozen other women chatted throughout the meeting, and one guy and one woman read. The woman was reading an archeology magazine while she was discussing the neighborhood’s problems.

The president said we were there to decide what to do about the lack of city piped water, but first she would entertain a report on the installation of the parking meters. The meters are widely perceived to be another way for the governor to rip off money, a violation of the character of the cultural patrimony status of the historic center and an affront to the poor in case they happen to own cars. Nobody was consulted.

I ain’t dumb. This group is mighty pissed at the governor and his henchmen. Following the parking meters, the discussion momentarily reverted to the water problem – our barrio will now receive city water once every two weeks. Around me the women discussed their household problems, the quality of rain water (we might be entering the rainy season) for shampooing one’s hair, and the rumor that the governor sold Coca-Cola the right to pump from wells while the central city is dry as a book. One woman averred she has drunk Coke only three times in her entire life, and she’s now fifty-two years old. Healthy and has all her teeth.

But the conversation with the presidential chair had shifted to a corner sidewalk where a tree has caused a huge bulge and threatens old ladies with breaking their hips. And then, there is the very unsatisfactory garbage collection. Back to the water, and what shall we do?

This is how participative democracy works. Not for the faint hearted nor for those enamored with efficiency, but very educational for all that, and a glimpse of basic contempt for the governor among urban people who are fed up. People entered throughout the meeting and somehow seemed to know what was going on. Eventually a decision was reached to confront the water authority, and just as quickly discarded as being pointless. Then the decision was made to confront the municipal president (mayor). I didn’t say anything. I saw this guy (appointed by the governor to fulfill the term abandoned mid-way by the puppet president Jesus Angel Ortiz ) confronted by the neighbors of Crespo.

The Crespo neighbors have been trying for two years to get the city to re-route heavy traffic which makes their street a fume-ridden health hazard. Finally, last Sunday, they simply went into the road and blockaded it. Esesarte, the acting municipal president was called to the scene, presumably by bus companies or taxi drivers. Esesarte instructed the neighbors to open the street. The neighbors refused. He insisted. They didn’t budge. The eventual conversation went, President: “I don’t get involved with political groups.” Neighborhood Leader: “Huh?” Faced with that, the blockade was removed.

So why does anyone imagine that going to city hall will make any difference? Nevertheless, it was decided as the first step. Street representative were asked to stand and sign up. Which they did. The meeting adjourned.

By this time about forty people had come and gone, drifted into private conversations or finished their magazine reading. I was eager to get over to the women’s event a block away on Garcia Vigil in front of Carmen Alto church. The women were marching for the release of David Venegas and other political prisoners. My main curiosity was to see if they would enter the zócalo. It was a splendid march, with a band, women puppets on high poles wearing corn husk hair and children dressed in multi-colored costumes as alebrijes, as Venegas is also called el alebrije. So no, they didn’t enter the central square which was being used for another event, I think celebrating children’s day. But oddly, there were no barriers in place. Maybe women aren’t considered a threat? Somebody should re-think that.

The bureaucrats union marched right in, and we are just days from May 1, Labor Day, when traditionally every union in the state marches through the zócalo. Instead, the women circled back up Alcalá, and held their rally on the Carmen Alto plazuela. Lots of shouting, singing and slogans such as, “We are all the APPO!” and “Ulises out!” Excellent level of high spirits. Eventually I headed home and stopped en route to chat with Doña Estella, who runs the bakery on Quezalcoatl Street. She’s APPO. We exchanged conversation about the water rationing, which she assured me was due to the governor stealing public funds, although she was unclear about the precise money that should have gone into the water system. Privatization of water would be a nightmare for most of Oaxaca’s residents, who, although most reside in houses owned for decades by their family and are built with cement – not dirt – floors, are generally cash poor. The cost of living goes up and the salaries don’t, if indeed salaries exist at all.

I was back home by 9:00. George, who stayed home with a cold, had come out the gate and was strolling down toward the rally to see if I was lost or captured. None of that. Everyone had a good time. After the three marches this week (the third was a student march), the May events will include more marches (the teachers already blockaded the highway this week) and work stoppages… and what comes next?

Stay Tuned.