la vida en technicolor

MEXICO IS TIRED. WE’RE BREAKING THE HABIT OF DESPAIR. Yesterday, graduate students from Universidad Nacional, responded to the federal government’s accusation of aiming to destabilize the nation.

The following is a rough translation of what the students had to say. All though it may not be the best translation, we do this so that more people know what is going on in our country, an where does the student movement stand.

PEÑA NIETO: Shielded under grief, they pretend to make their protests valid. Protests that sometimes, have no clear objective. It would seem that they respond to an interest of generating destabilization.

UNAM’s GRADUATE STUDENTS ANSWER.

It’s been said that we want to destabilize the country.

NO, Enrique. What we want, is to stabilize the country.

Graduate students are tired.

Tired of the number of politic prisioners that grows larger each day.

Tired of the impunity pact between the entrepreneurial and political elites that control our country.

Tired of a declining economy holding on to the same system that has enriched the richest and impoverished the poorest for the past 30 years.

We are tired of presidents leading viceroys’ lives, when there is so much poverty in our country.

Tired of legislators that pass bills in order to make dispossession and looting legal. Like they did with the energy reform.

Tired of minimum wage that can’t buy a basic food basket.

Tired of justice being substituted by the settling of scores, so characteristic of mobs and mafias.

Tired of having the only options of unemployment or narco, or who the hell knows.

Tired of being excluded, rejected from the educational system.

Tired of politicians not representing the citizenship.

We are tired of impunity being the norm in our country.

Tired of mothers having to look for their sons in mass graves.

Tired of the ministers of the Supreme Court collecting millionaire salaries, to serve the interests of the president in-office.

Tired of the attempts at silencing the truth with the assassination of journalists.

Tired of the informative manipulation by the slavish media.

We are tired of the prioritization of the interests of the extractive industry that destroys our country.

Tired of the dangers our families face when leaving our houses, due to violence in the streets.

Tired of crying for our dead and calcined children at ABC Daycare Center.

Tired of living in a party-rule that has kidnapped our country.

Tired of a government imposed by television networks, at service of the higher bidder.

Tired of the government setting free drug traffickers, such as Caro Quintero.

Tired of politicians selling our country to make themselves richer.

Tired of Peña Nieto’s government condoning 180,000 million pesos in taxes to his ‘buddies’ while raising them for the citizenship.

Tired of you doing nothing to change this country.

MURILLO KARAM: Thank you very much. I’m tired.

We are tired of doing nothing.

CROWD: Out with Peña!e

Who’s more tired? You, the corrupted government. Or the citizenship?

Mexicans have begun to brake the habit of despair, in order to get organized and start fixing this mess of a country you’ve left us with. THIS IS JUST GETTING STARTED.

Beggining on November 15th, a series of confrontations have developed between the student movement and police forces. The first of this confrontations took place near the facilities of a very politically active schools of the university, UNAM. It began when a group of students asked two agents of the PGJDF, that is the police force of Mexico City, what were they doing inside the campus. The confrontation scalated into full blown violence when one of the agents shot at two of the students, injuring one in the left thigh and also killing a dog. The rest of the students chased the car where the two agents intended to leave the campus, and managed to stop it, while also injuring one of the agents, who is currently hospitalized in state of detainee. 

According to the statement later released by the PGJDF, the two agents were there to conduct the investigation of the report of a stolen celphone on November 12th.

That same night, a group of students rallied to drag the car in which the two agents planned to escape, to the PGJDF's facilities. Once there, the students set the car on fire as a protest to the presence of police force inside the campus. This triggered an immediate response by police task force, who deployed a squad to repel the students.

. Even after the students left the front entrance of the police building, some of the squads remained in that side of Ciudad Universitaria. And a few moments later, a task force of approximately 500 officers, entered the campus, with the intention of evacuating by force, the auditorium where students of the school of Philosophy, had been stationed to discuss the course of action of the support movement to the families of the 43 missing students from Ayotzinapa.

On November the 16th, after new information of the rectory having knowlegde of the police presence in the campus, a group of 150 students marched to the rectory building, demanding the resignation of the rector: Dr. José Ramón Narro Robles. Once the contingent of then 600 people, arrived at Rectory, a group of approximately 50 people, masked and hoodend, began instigating for the taking of the building; this was not the intention of the march, so the rest of the students, forced at least one of the instigators to remove his hood and mask, and reveal his identity.

The man, who identified himself, as Luciano Arístides Avilés Hernández, was also seen at the protest outside of Mexico's City Goverment Palace. And related to the acts of violence that took place that day. That is, the setting on fire of the infamous door. 

Later that afternoon the students declared, that they do not want any more violence, and that as we can all see, they are not the ones instigating it. 

Today federal authorities took the parents of the 43 missing students from Ayotzinapa, Guerrero; to the landfill where the remains of the students were allegedly found.

The parents stated they DO NOT BELIEVE the federal authorities, since there was no clear evidence of a 15 hour long active burning fire.

Yesterday night, on the other hand, the doors of the National Palace of Mexico, located in the heart of Mexico City by the Zocalo square, were set on fire by hooded individuals, who were then seen hiding behind a squad of fully armed police officers. Students and civilians were arrested at the square and taken to several police facilities, under false charges.

This morning, we saw the two most horrible pieces of reality in my country. A brand new door being installed a few hours later, a door to protect those inside the palace of power. And entire families looking for their sons amongst piles of garbage.

TODAY, THE MEXICAN PEOPLE WERE INFORMED THAT THE 43 MISSING STUDENTS' REMAINS, WERE FOUND IN A LANDFILL NEAR COCULA, GUERRERO. JUST KILOMETERS AWAY FROM IGUALA, GUERRERO, WHERE THE STUDENTS WERE TAKEN FROM, BY NO OTHER THAN THE LOCAL POLICE. 

FEDERAL AUTHORITY'S  STATEMENT SAYS, THE STUDENTS WERE SURRENDED TO A LOCAL CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION KNOW AS "GUERREROS UNIDOS", BY THE LOCAL POLICE AND THAT THEY WERE THEN TAKEN TO SAID LANDFILL TO BE EXECUTED AND THEIR BODIES THEN CALCINATED FOR 15 HOURS. 

ACCORDING TO WITNESS TESTIMONY AND CONFIRMATION BY INVESTIGATION OF THE FEDERAL POLICE CORPS, THE EX-GOVERNOR OF IGUALA, JOSÉ LUIS ABARCA, AND HIS WIFE, HAD GIVEN ORDERS TO 'GET RID OF' THE STUDENTS SO THAT THEY DID NOT DISRUPT THE EVENT ORGANIZED BY THE GOVERNORS WIFE, TAKING PLACE THE NIGHT OF SEPTEMBER 27. HOSPITALS AND HEALTH CARE SERVICES FROM IGUALA, ALSO GOT ORDERS TO NOT HELP ANY INJURED STUDENTS, AND EVEN WITH PRESENCE FROM THE MILITARY, THE TWO TOURISTS BUSES IN WHICH THE STUDENTS TRAVELED WERE SUBJECT TO FIRE FROM BOTH THE CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION AND THE LOCAL POLICE. 

AS THE INVESTIGATION TOOK PLACE, POLICE FOUND TWO OTHER BODY-DISPOSAL SITES. AND THIS MORNING THEY FINALLY FOUND THE CALCINATED REMAINS OF WHOM APPEAR TO BE THE 43 MISSING STUDENTS. 

THEY KEEP TELLING MY PEOPLE THAT THE PERPETRATORS WILL BE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE, THAT THERE WILL BE SANCTIONS FOR WHOM DARE DO THIS TO 43 YOUNG MEN, WHO'S ONLY CRIME WAS TO BE STUDENTS IN A POOR AREA, WHO'S FATAL ACTION WAS TO PASS THROUGH A WAR ZONE DISGUISED AS A STATE. BUT IN MY COUNTRY JUSTICE NEVER COMES COMPLETELY. SURE, THEY WILL INCARCERATE THE LOWEST MEMBERS IN THE CRIMINAL CHAIN, THEY WILL BLAME IT ON THE 'SICARIOS'. AND YES, THEY SHOULD BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE, BUT WHAT ABOUT THOSE WHO NEGLECTED THEIR DUTY? THOSE WHO ARE THE SOURCE OF THE CORRUPTION ON THE POLICE CORPS? AND BOTH THE LOCAL AND FEDERAL GOVERMENT? WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO PUT ABARCA UP FRONT OF AN ALREADY VIOLENT TOWN? 

WHILE THE AUTHORITIES MAY SAY THEY WILL KEEP SEARCHING FOR EVIDENCE AND FURTHER THE INVESTIGATION, NO ONE TRULY CAN MEND THE ACTIONS THAT TOOK PLACE THAT NIGHT. NO ONE CAN GIVE THE GRIEVING MOTHERS, FATHERS, BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE 43 MISSING STUDENTS, THE CHANCE TO HOLD THEM AGAIN, TO LOOK INTO THEIR EYES, TO TELL THEM THEY ARE LOVED AND WELCOMED INTO TENDER ARMS.  THE SADDEST PART IS, THEY ARE NOT THE ONLY 43 MISSING PEOPLE IN MY COUNTRY. EVERYDAY TENS OF WOMEN, MEN AND CHILDREN ARE TAKEN AWAY FROM THEIR FAMILIES, NOT ONLY BY CRIMINAL ORGANIZATIONS BUT BY THE SAME PEOPLE THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT THEM, THE POLICE AND THE MILITARY. EVENTS SUCH AS THIS, HAPPEN EVERYDAY, IN EVERY STATE OF MY NATION. WE LIVE IN FEAR OF LEAVING OUR HOMES TO NEVER RETURN. WE LIVE IN FEAR OF OUR CHILDREN BEING TAKEN AWAY, SOLD, KILLED, ABUSED, FOUND IN DITCHES ON THE GROUND, LIKE GARBAGE.  NEVER TO RETURN TO US. 

Cuando germiné, cual rosa en asteroide, comenzó a latirme un corazón.

Era un corazón certero y entregado, y yo sentía que lo conocía desde aquél tiempo donde el tiempo no se medía.

Creció rapidamente, alimentado por caricias y pequeñas bromas. Por las mañanas le besaba un ventrículo y por los noches, le contaba cuentos para amenizar su ritmo. Boom, boom.

Como todos los corazones, el mío creció del lado izquierdo. Y pudo hacerse de una estructura elaborada de miles de vasitos y huesos firmes, y se recubrió de nervios y de carne y de piel, también.

Cuando al fin brotó aquella mitad de rostro, ya mi persona diestra, no tenía vuelta atrás. Cada vaso de mi pecho, la mitad de mi garganta, el más sano de mis pulmones, estaban conectados a él.

Pero algo anadaba mal, comenzó en el esternón. Una pequeñísima semilla, una espinita que iba creciendo. Alimentada por verdades a medias, y cruel monotonía. Pronto llegó a ser una ramita, ensanchada por las lágrimas de la mitad del rostro que aún me pertenenciera.

Y entonces un día, aquella mano izquierda, en la que podía sentir el pulso del corazón que había crecido en aquél lugar, tomó el cuchillo y se puso a cavar.

Separó primero, mi ojo del suyo, así ya no podríamos ver en el otro lado, la verdad o la mentira, el amor o la crueldad. Continuó por separar la garganta, para que no pudiesemos escucharnos gritar, o hablar o susurrar, ni una palabra, silencio muerto, sin calma ni fin.

Cuando llegó al punto medio del costillar, todo se hizo más facíl, pues mi persona diestra, separada de su corazón, se dejó caer, se dejó cortar como mantequilla. Y cuando la sangre toda estuvo derramada, de la tierra misma brotó una ramita.

Y la ramita fue creciendo, se introdujo primero en mi vientre amoratado y después en el corazón mismo. Temblaba contra el viento y a veces hacía un sonido dulce, como una canción de otrora, pero nueva siempre, en realidad. La ramita nos mantuvo unidos unas horas, efímeras y saladas, pero siempre atemorizantes de perderlas, siempre dulces de preciosa magnitud. Pero hubimos de separanos inevitablemente, porque dos lados cercenados ya más nunca pueden volver a unirse.

Y así separados, mi diestra persona y el lado del que latía mi corazón, nos pasamos el tiempo que ya es tiempo que no se puede medir, contemplando la ramita crecer, la ramita que será nuestro árbol.

Se cuelga inerme la rosa blanca al alfeizar, ha pasado ahí la noche esperando regresar al lado de la susodicha. Pero no ha pasado nada. Casi está muerta de frío, casi se acaba su belleza, y su premura se agranda con cada gota de rocío matinal que se posa en su rostro claro. Siente que se le acaba el tiempo, que sus hojas se caen y sus pétalos desfallecen contra el clima inclemente. La susodicha espera en un sofá, mira hacia la ventana y observa la rosa sin saber qué hacer. Está esperando… Que la rosa tome un camino, que venga la decisión de vida o la muerte. Ha preparado hace horas un libro viejo, un favorito que releé cuando se siente triste. El ataúd de la última rosa que él le dejó. La rosa se rinde, el alfeizar masculla acompañando al viento y la susodicha puede ver, que los pétalos ya no se asoman desfiantes desde la cornisa de su ventana. Se levanta y camina hacia allá; al abrir la ventana, el viento se detiene, sólo hay silencio, sólo hay un frío seco y alarmante mientras el sol sube detrás de los edificios. Toma la rosa y la última espina se clava en su pulgar.

Qué se dirán los enamorados cuando, en silencio, se miran a los ojos y se besan después. Cara a cara con el deseo encarnado. Qué se dirán en su caminar pausado mientras van tomados de la mano. Cuántas palabras guardan sus cuerpos exhaustos en mitad de la noche; poesías que escriben con besos y sexo e intimidad.

Qué silencios aguardan a los amantes, cuando el ocaso del idilio por fin llegue. Qué sepulcrales  abismos se abren entre las bocas. Y las mañanas se vacían de gemidos inquietos y no queda nada que hacer, más que mirarse y callar.

Y mitad del camino, entre la palabra y el silencio; aquél calmo instante en que el amor se rompe, se encuentran las miradas del desasosiego; el momento de contemplar desnuda el alma imperfecta de un ser que, un tiempo atrás, se amó. Las manos yertas y los labios secos, boca que aprisiona tanto cariño acallado por palabrería sin sostén.

Se farfullan los ‘te amos’ sobrantes, en los que se esconde una lenta agonía, se renueva la lucha a cada gris atardecer.

Qué se dirán los enamorados después de adiós, qué historias contarán a sus memorias, qué recuerdos enmascararán de bondad.