fidel castro responds to barack obama

The English version

"Is it right for the president of the United States to order the assassination of any one person in the world, whatever the pretext may be?

Is it ethical for the president of the United States to order the torture of other human beings?

Should state terrorism be used by a country as powerful as the United States as an instrument to bring about peace on the planet?"

- F. Castro

Barack's Comments

a sad story

Good-bye, Bananas

flight..

The hills in San Cristobal are even more wonderful when experienced from bicycle handlebars and I imagine the whole city can hear my excitement.

se cayó

The rains have started in San Cristobal. At first they were sporadic and happened every few days. The past few nights, however, it has started to rain at about the same time, starting with a few splattering, fat drops and eventually growing into a deafening torrent, even drowning out Michael Jackson on the kitchen cd player. The rain can be isolating, trapping one in a cafe or a bedroom when not prepared, or it can be drawn around a group of folks like a warm, shared blanket bringing out stories and revelations. Last night we had such a moment, originally brought together for a cheap and warm meal, we then found ourselves stuffed with Joe's handmade tortillas and unable to leave the kitchen for the relentless rain, sounding much like billions of nails and tacks being flung onto our aluminum roof. We were all quite pleased to have each other's company and were all in happy agreement when Joe said one of his favorite things in the world was making and eating good food with good people. Can life really be so simple?

Lovely.

This past Sunday, after so many years wandering around Mexico, I had my first Mayan steam bath experience. We just happened to be walking down the street when some friends ran by and shouted, "Hey we're leaving for the temezcal, come on!" and it didn't take long for us to grab a towel and jump into a taxi with them, headed for a little mountain just outside a city. El Viejito was our guide (and he really wasn't old at all) and 14 of us crawled into a very low tent covered in plastic and cloth and crowded around a little hole made in the dirt. There were so many of us that it was impossible to sit without leaning a little bit on the people to either side of us and we had to be careful not to accidentally bump the steaming stones with our feet. Outside 2 careful fire tenders brought our guide hot stones and water and soon sweat was streaming in rivers from our pores in an amazing and deeply cleansing, not at all disgusting, way. Some folks played instruments and sang or clapped and others said brief prayers of thanks and by the time we all stumbled back out into the cool air of the outside we felt such a deep bonding among us that we all hugged and kissed one another, thanking each other just for sharing each other's presence. We shared fresh fruit and cool water and afterwards I took a long, peaceful nap. It was a beautiful experience, something I'd truly needed, and I'm hoping to go back again before I leave San Cris.

a few weeks ago....

i went to the caracol of Oventic, a Zapatista autonomous community, with a few musicians from Puebla...

gigantic...

Today a group of students came into the restaurant to look at the roof garden. One gal was wearing a dark-blue t-shirt with the familiar words "Western Michigan University" on it, so I immediately exclaimed, "Hey! I went to Western!" "Oh," she said, "actually this is from my ex-boyfriend, we're from the University of Michigan." Well, well, I thought. Of course if I'd waited a few more minutes I would have noticed that these kids were not from WMU, in the way that they quickly ascended the stairs, eager to see the garden, despite the fact that their guide hadn't even arrived yet. Ambitious. And I'd already blown my cover.

I can see them now, sitting around a table in their hotel, studiously going over their notes and scribbling ideas furiously or reading Zapatista comuniques outloud to one another, and as they take a small break, to lighten the mood, someone comments, "Yeah, well thank God we aren't going to Western, or all that we would end up doing is working in some coffee shop in Mexico." Maybe the years of hearing the disdain and condescension in the voices of U of M kids in regards to WMU kids has led me to believe one of those students would make that comment. Either way, I would reply, "Yeah and if I would have gone to U of M, I'd have ended up a lonely and cynical academic bound to desperate attempts at being at the vanguard and making incredibly vain gesticulations in order to impress people that other people assume are important."

Anyway, this past weekend I went out of town to a small community about an hour and a half from San Cristobal. We stayed in a cabin, swam in a river that was about 2 meters from our cabin, ate delicious homemade vegetarian food with handmade tortillas, and walked around in the forest until we found the source of the the fresh spring water that flows from all the taps on the land. It was a refreshing break from the city and so close that we could even leave early on Monday morning and I made it back (only slightly late) for work. The people were all amazing as well and each of them in their own way reinforced the same idea, "Live well and happy and simply."

perspective

If there's anything that has affected me by living in Mexico, maybe something that has had the biggest impact on me has been the realization of the beauty and value in the small things that life holds. Or, maybe it's the realization that the so-called "small things" in life, like human connection and expression or natural beauty or divinity, are really not so small after all. I see in the U.S. a society where humanity is denied and repressed and thus, ideas such as faith and spontaneity must be marginalized. Ah, the small things in life, if only we had more time, more money, more of them, wouldn't that be nice? People say this to themselves and continue on, wanting more, being afraid of losing what they already have, and never really questioning: Why do we choose to deny ourselves the things that are truly fulfilling to us in exchange for pursuing a course of life that we perceive is "acceptable?" Where does this idea of what is acceptable come from? Why are people rigidly defined early in life and reprimanded or isolated if they deviate from the expectations of others? Do I really need a resumé to be happy? I've met so many folks these past couple of years who would simply laugh at the latter question.

And just because you know that opportunities exist, does that mean you should take them? or even consider them? Does the privelege of knowing equal an obligation of accepting?

Sorry folks, I won't be working at a big-name corporation or NGO soon. I'd like to keep my life simple for now....and enjoy moments like when one of the Casa del Pan regulars, a young French lady, says, "Can you make the orange-papaya juice the way you always make it? Siempre queda riquisimo." Or days that revolve around hunting down a certain ingredient, or nights that revolve around finding the right onda, or relationships that revolve around something more than just geography and responsibility.

Ok, I have a resume. Will I use it soon? Can't say. But I'm happy. Nothing like descending on one of San Cristobal's city hills, seeing the sun drop zig zags of gold on the stones in the streets, the red-roofed homes and flowers and relative stillness of a still-small city, all surrounded by green hills and clouds, breathing in air that is always cool and fresh, sometimes moist and sometimes not, thinking "I could live here forever, couldn't I?," feeling very alive and then laughing at yourself when you slip on the steep sloping sidewalk. I'm not sure I could ask for more, or if I even should.

word of the day

tergiversar: to distort