31 August 2017
I learned a new word this morning: manifestódromo. A rough translation
would be “center of chaos-provoking public protest actions.”
This morning’s newspaper, Noticias,
Oaxaca’s most popular and the one that I read online every morning and buy in
“hard copy” once a week (to line the cat litter tray) proclaimed that Oaxaca is
Mexico’s major manifestódromo.
Cautioning that the data is still preliminary, and citing only “the sources
that we have consulted,” the newspaper’s tally of 2,890 disruptive actions for
the first seven months of this year in the State of Oaxaca included:
478 occupations of public buildings
475 blockades of highways
210 marches
241 blockades of city streets
137 occupations of city government
offices
123 occupations of highway toll booths
(with tolls, presumably, going into the pockets of the occupiers)
107 seizures of vehicles that are used
to block roads (trucks and buses, mostly)
Many hundreds of miscellaneous
seizures, acts of destructions, temporary seizures of public officials, etc.
2,890 disruptive actions. Statewide that is 3-5 blockades, 2-4
occupations, and 3 other disruptive acts per
day!
For folks like us it is mostly just a nuisance. Disrupts the
day’s activities. Makes planning difficult (we keep our calendar in pencil).
And it doesn’t overweigh the numerous joys of living in Oaxaca —the beauty, the
cultural diversity, the fabulous cuisine, the art scene, the awesome
archaeological sites, the rich fauna and flora, the rich community of friends
and colleagues— but it is
frustrating. For the state as a whole, it is a disaster. Small businesses
struggle, and frequently go belly up. Larger businesses move out of the city
and out of the state, not in. While much of Mexico has developed a potent
industrial base —Mexico City, the whole Bajío from Querétaro to Guadalajara,
Puebla, Monterrey and Saltillo, to name a few places — why would a major
industry want to establish a plant in Oaxaca?
In the absence of any apparent significant government action to
even try to mitigate the problem,
disruptive protest seems to increase weekly. In my naiveté (and my limited
experience as dean and provost working with employees, clients, and unions in
the rarified atmosphere of quasi-rational research universities) I believe that
there are ways to balance the principles of free speech and the right to
protest, the obligation of government to be responsive, and the public’s right
to freedom of movement and to make a living. One could designate a large venue
or two as places for protest (the new soccer stadium comes to mind – and it
will hold 20,000 or so). Then prohibit and enforce the prohibition of blocking
public thoroughfares and centers of commerce. When a group has a petition or
wants to protest some government action, have government officials show up,
listen, and in a reasonable time show up again to respond. If the government,
with its competing interests and finite budgets, can’t agree to all the
requests (always couched as demands), explain why and lay out ways in which the
parties can collaborate in accomplishing at least some of what is requested.
Stress that democracies provide conduits (i.e., elections) for redress of
wrongs and disaffection with the government’s priorities and actions. Like I
said, naiveté.
And in the meantime, we cope.
I took our young cousin Jasper down to the coast for a few days
while Linda was in the States for her monthly clinical trial monitoring. 250
kilometers, a 6-hour drive, over the whole breadth of the Sierra Madre
Occidental, with altitudes from 0 at sea level to 2600 meters at the highest
point. Rained nearly the whole time, probably an edge effect of Harvey. Still,
two extended periods of sun and breeze allowed us to cavort on the sand and in
the breakers, and to tour the endangered turtle breeding facility and a coastal
lagoon. On our return trip, the sky cleared again when we reached the SW edge
of the city. It should have taken us a half hour to get from there to Jasper’s
host family in San Felipe del Agua, but the blockades on Niños Héroes, one of
the city’s major east-west arteries, jammed us and forced us to corkscrew
through the cobbled alleys of the Jalatlaco neighborhood until we found an
un-picketed crossing point. Took us an hour and a half. The protesting groups
occupying crossroads in various parts of the city: the teachers union, the
moto-taxis union, the transportation workers union, and two squabbling villages
that have blocked all access to the Central Valleys’ regional sanitary
(allegedly) landfill facility.
After leaving Jasper I had to get back to the Etla Valley, on
the other side of the mountain from San Felipe del Agua. All the efficient routes involve an end run around the mountain,
but that required crossing or driving on Niños Héroes. I tried to get to the
Fortín Loop, but commandeered busses blocked the entrances to all the
intersections. It took me another half hour to extricate myself from the
traffic jam. So I decided to go over the mountain, that is, if I could find a
way to climb the nearly 350 meters (1,000 feet) over the semi-paved and dirt
roads that zigzag through the scruffy, less affluent houses that cling to the
steep slopes. Which, by asking people at every choice point, and with the help
of a taxi or two, I managed in a little over an hour. Met some nice people.
Interesting architecture. Beautiful views. A little park shaded with huge
laurel trees. A market that might be fun to visit on a sunny day. Got home at
nightfall just as the skies opened up again.
Next morning I left early to go pick up Linda at the airport.
Not a bloqueo to be seen.
Life in pencil in Oaxaca. What
frustration! What a privilege and a delight!
David
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