On the topic: The Storm and the Day After. Part eleven: ‘Otroas’ on the day after?

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On the topic: The Storm and the Day After. Part eleven: ‘Otroas’ on the day after?

On the topic: The Storm and the Day After.

Part eleven: ‘Otroas’ on the day after?

“Well, one less obstacle on the intricate path to happiness,” said the captain.

I know, this beginning may seem disconcerting to you, so let me put it “in context.” We are again in the hypothetical situation of the day after in an indigenous community that did see the storm coming and prepared for it. There, the matter at hand began like this:

The captain, applying his “divide, confront and you will be in trouble” method, had organized squads of stationary bicycles with dynamos each. Well, they are not actually stationary bicycles, they are mechanical with an ingenious wooden structure that allows the rear wheel to roll in the air. Thus, the only resistance to its rolling is that presented by the dynamo that generates energy, which is conducted by a jumble of cables, connected in parallel, that lead in an accumulator.

The captain summoned the “compañeras” and told them: “Let’s talk like the women we are. We know well that the ‘pinches’ men make fun of us that we have no strength, that we are too fat or that we are too skinny. So they have thrown us a challenge. They say that we cannot generate enough energy to recharge a 12-volt battery in an hour of pedaling. I, as your self-appointed representative, received the challenge and raised the ante: we can charge 2 accumulators. They laughed, as damned men do. So, we have this problem of whether we are going to allow ourselves to be mocked as the women that we are. Or if we are going to defeat them, humiliate them, hit them, shake them, throw them and dance the ‘Cumbia del Sapito’ on top of their miserable corpses.”

Contrary to what the captain expected, the flamboyant speech did not produce the expected incendiary result. Some yawned, others continued embroidering. Of course, none of them stopped pedaling.

Once the female shift was over, the captain went to where the men were gossiping and said to them: “Brothers in the misfortune of being dominated by females. The damn women have challenged us with everything and their presses. They say that we can’t last even 3 minutes and that we won’t be able to recharge two 12-volt accumulators by pedaling. I understand and share your confusion and indignation. In addition to forcing us to cook and wash clothes, the evil women with hair pressers try to question and humiliate our manhood. I believe, and you will agree with me, that we cannot but honor the patriarchal system that formed us with diligence and perseverance for centuries, and we have to respond to the challenge with gallantry and grace.»

Contrary to what one might think, the speech, full of testosterone, failed to interrupt the gossip that dominated the men’s squad that pedaled with reluctance. Of course, they continued embroidering with skill and enthusiasm.

The captain was calculating that, with 4 batteries maxed out, he could well power at least 2 speakers for a batch of cumbias, when the ‘otroas’ arrived.

These ‘otroas’, honoring their natural rebellion, are ‘contreras’ (naysayeres). In other words, as people say, they are always against everything. That is why they do not identify as men or as females, thus challenging the biological, anatomical, ideological, religious, political and logical laws that the heteropatriarchal system has managed to establish for centuries. Making a noise, they demanded from the captain that they be excluded from the gender confrontation, and, incidentally, they demanded an explanation of the term or name of “otroas.”

The captain looked calmly (which is how the capi names panic and terror when they take possession of his beautiful, well-formed body) at the contingent, lit his pipe with a trembling hand, and began, not without an initial stutter, to explain:

“Look, I explain the origin of the word. Zapatismo is very different, as it were. And, thanks to the first gods, those who created the world, it has not lost its capacity for wonder. When, in the early days of our public appearance, we contemplated with surprise that the world was larger than we imagined, and that it contained many worlds in its being. We detected that we were in tune with other people who, like us, were despised, humiliated, persecuted, violated, imprisoned, disappeared and murdered, because of who they were. In addition to women in general, we find harmony with differences. At that time, we also began to talk to gays and lesbians. But then it turned out that there were more differences: transgender, transsexual, transvestite, intersex, bisexual, queer, asexual, bi, poly, etc. So who we wanted to talk to were more than we thought. The world was not only populated by these “minority” differences, they were also being attacked by the system. And the problem is not the use of bathrooms, but the violence they suffer. As if the hegemonic desire sought to homogenize all of humanity, turning difference into a crime and persecuting it to extinguish it. The thing is that, as Zapatista people that we are, we realized that there would always be differences and that everyone would name them however they wanted. Since the differences are more than our limited knowledge, we decided to use the term “otroa” not to designate an identity, but to emphasize the differences (and our ignorance to name them). It is our way of saying “et cetera”, but not to exclude or minimize, but to always be open to the presence of new differences that, logically, may not be so new. In summary: “otroas” names all the differences that exist and those that are going to exist, or that already exist and are not named.

When he finished his explanation, if you can call those threaded incoherencies that way, the captain realized that no one was listening. The otroas had taken the bicycles by surprise and were pedaling with such an admirable rhythm and speed that they would be the envy of males and females. The captain, instead of being daunted by his failure as a speaker, did the math and concluded that, with the otroas, there would be energy for up to 2 or 3 more rounds of cumbias, since it was to be expected that the otroas would honor their difference and surpass men and women.

When their shift ended, the captain curiously asked a group of otroas if, in addition to loving and caring for each other, they also fought, argued, and scolded each other when they interacted with each other. They responded yes, of course, of course, that it was to be expected, but that the captain would have to specify what he was referring to.

The captain took up the axiom enunciated by the late Supmarcos – may God bless him in his holy grace and may the Blessed Virgin shower him with blessings – which states: “the origin of a heartbreak lies in whoever has the TV control. Traumatic separations, divorces, endless hatred and world wars have their origin in the possession of that infernal device. And well, also in the issue of where one squeezes the toothpaste tube.” The captain, who tended to be more lapidary than the deceased, summarized it like this: “The history of humanity, that is, the unwritten history, is the history of the fight for the television control.”

An ‘otroa’ stated with annoyance: “there are no televisions anymore,” to which the captain responded with the phrase with which this text begins.

-*-

In the next meeting-dance (always on the day after), everyone, (men, women and otroas), flooded with movement plain, muddied by the recent rain. Meanwhile, the most discreet couples sought to distance themselves into the darkness because dancing, as love and friendship, usually has its own light. The batteries lasted a long time, although not as long as the day before the storm, when the dances began at 2000hrs, southeastern time, and ended when the sun finally lifted the sheet of fog and the sound system could be heard: “There is hot coffee and ‘marquesote de pinole’ in the dining room “Uca, Uca, quien se lo encuentre se lo emboruca” [“Finders keepers, losers weepers”] Free entry.”

On the field, a group of ‘contreras’ [naysayers] continued to dance the “cumbia del común” [“cumbia of the common”]. The parts of the whole illuminated the gloom. As if the stars, bored with their distant distance, came down to earth and nibbled on the day after.

From the energy bike squad.