A MARATHON IN THE MOUNTAINS OF THE MEXICAN SOUTHEAST

Sep172024

A MARATHON IN THE MOUNTAINS OF THE MEXICAN SOUTHEAST

September 2024.

Weeks ago, groups of Zapatista youths had meetings to see how they could promote the issue of commonality among themselves and with youths from political parties.

Then they had the idea of a marathon (23 kilometers) on dirt roads with steep slopes (that is, «hills» – as we call them here).

Their plan was that there would be no personal benefit prizes among those who won. Instead, the objective was for the award to be a productive base to start first with the groups in their towns. From there, the next step is to create common projects, where youths from political parties are involved.

The prizes were then breeding animals and farm animals. Although the pelibuey couples would be for the first places, each and every participant would have the money to buy chickens and start their projects for collective farms. The GAL (Local Autonomous Government) of each town will ensure that the commitment is fulfilled and will request reports.

This was what they explained to me that they would do and (they are Zapatistas), that is what they did.

They chose the date of September 16 to celebrate the beginning of the war of independence and the place that the indigenous peoples had and still have in that process – and throughout the entire history of this geography called “Mexico” -.

According to what the Tercios Compas in the area tell me (Note: the “Tercios Compas” are groups of young Zapatistas who do media work: from taking videos, editing them, making recordings, radio programs and sound engineers; to “covering” what happens in their towns, regions and zones), the marathon began at 3 in the morning national time (4 in the morning accordins to Zapatista southeastern time), and, from two starting points, they would converge on the Dolores Hidalgo Puy (or “caracol” ). There would be a category of “jóvenas” and “jóvenes”, that is, women and men.

Although there was no age limit, about 200 Zapatista young men and women registered. Their average age was below 20 years, but the majority are girls and boys between 12 and 16 years old.

The youth groups that do not participate by running in the marathon were organized so that some covered the start with cheer slogans; others of the arrival with batons and targets; others go in trucks encouraging them along the way in case someone faints, and with music and with words regarding the common, as they pass through the communities; and others are in charge of the talks about independence, the presentation of prizes to those who participated, and the final dance.

Those who arrived first did so about 3 hours after departure. But most were still a third or half of the way there. Those who were coordinators were consulted about whether the ones missing should already be collected and transported in trucks. It was agreed that they should asked those who were on the way.

According to what they tell me, the compañeras who were offered to get on the bus rejected it, responding, with more or less the following words “Of course not. In itself we are going to get to where we need to go, maybe it takes a while, but we are going to get there, even if it is by crawling.” Upon learning of this response, the men also had to refuse to be “rescued.”

And, indeed, everyone arrived eventually. At night they danced. And that’s how the celebration of the 16^th of September went down… in the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

I attest.

The Captain.
Mexico, September 2024.

P.S. OF MORAL IN FACE OF THE STORM. – There were men and women who kept the pace and rhythm, and completed the challenge in the first places. The others explained: “they prepared ahead of time because they already knew what they were going to face.”

P.S. GENDER AUTOGOAL GOSSIP. – The Zapatista special envoy at the scene tells me: “The men reached the finish line and collapsed exhausted. With cramps and covered in dirt, lying on the esplanade of the Caracol, they only listened to the slogans and the noise. One of the runners confessed: “uh compa, I’m not even thinking about dancing, right now even my cap hurts.” Instead, the compañeras only drank water and asked what time the dance was going to be. While a group of young girls laughed and joked among themselves about how they had finished, one of them declared: “We ask about the time of the dance to see if we can take a bath, or we dance as we are, since we are already the color of the land.” They all smiled happily. They had completed 23 kilometers of an unpleasant route, on whose hills even motor vehicles struggle.

Mmh, I think I’m not going to put this in. It would be recognizing that the compañeras have more resistance than compañeros, and gender solidarity prevents me from doing so. So delete this part.

P.S. TO GOSSIP. – And just as it was said, at the time the dance started, only the young women were raising the dust to the rhythm of the cumbias. Only after a long time, and in what is called “gender pride,” did the men join in. Limping and grimacing in pain, but without losing their composure, they said: “We’re fine, it’s just a new way of dancing that we just invented and called “Cumbia of This happens to you for not preparing for what’s coming.”

-*-

Echoes of a distant dance and a keyboard compete with out-of-tune crickets. A spark and the smell of tobacco barely outline a figure on the lintel of the champa. The night is now queen in the mountains of the Mexican Southeast. Up at dawn, with a nagua of stars and a moon with a jagged edge as a medal on his chest, she moves her hips to the rhythm of the “cumbia del Común”.

Again I attest.
The Captain.