Tag Archives: Indigenous World Forum on Water and Peace

“As long as the Tree lives, the people live”: the Encounter of the Eagle, the Condor and the Quetzal

Casey Camp

(LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO)

Today, we would like to close this cycle of posts with poetry and documentaries! In spreading intercultural awareness in the last thirteen weeks, we have been building bridges between the voices and the struggles to defend Water throughout Abya-Yala / Turtle Island. Today is a special day because we would like to share with you the vision behind this project, and the synchronism of last weeks, which has made us think that this is just the beginning. In 1984, the Four Worlds International Institute published The Sacred Tree. Reflections on Native American Spirituality. In the first chapter, we can read the following story:

The ancient ones taught us that the life of the Tree is the life of the people. If the people wander far away from the protective shadow of the Tree, if they forget to seek the nourishment of its fruit, or if they should turn against the Tree and attempt to destroy it, great sorrow will fall upon the people. The people will lose their power. They will cease to dream dreams and see visions. They will begin to quarrel among themselves over worthless trifles. They will become unable to tell the truth and to deal with each other honestly. They will forget how to survive in their own land. Their lives will become filled with anger and gloom. Little by little they will poison themselves and all they touch.

It was foretold that these things would come to pass, but that the Tree would never die. And as long as the Tree lives, the people live. It was also foretold that the day would come when the people would awaken, as if from a long, drugged sleep; that they would begin, timidly at first but then with great urgency, to search again for the sacred Tree. (The Sacred Tree 7)

In the last decades, Indigenous Elders and advocates have been talking about the kinship trails across the Americas—the roots, the trunk and the branches of the Abya-Yala. We believe that all of the protagonists highlighted over the last twelve posts are recovering the vision of the Tree, and that the Indigenous World Forum on Water and Peace is part of the trails and crossroads of the Tree. Global mobilizations such as 2009 Mama Quta Titikaka, and Idle No More are part of the roots and fruits of the Tree. Current ceremonial exchanges among the Mayan Tatas and Amazonian Taytas are part of the roots and fruits of the Tree.

And this is probably the reason why the same text was used recently in documentary The Encounter of the Eagle and the Condor by Clement Guerra. In this astonishing project, the Elder Casey Camp read the story of The Sacred Tree while Nature spoke through the lens.

Watch here The Encounter of the Eagle and the Condor‘s trailer => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdmsOq5Bpb4

On September 27th, 2015, the night of the full moon eclipse, with the support of Indigenous Rising, Indigenous Environmental Network, Amazon Watch, Pachamama Alliance, and Rainforest Action Network, native women from the seven directions of Abya-Yala / Turtle Island met in New York and signed an Indigenous Women’s Treaty of the Americas. As we can learn from Defenders of Mother Earth–another piece by Guerra–Elder Casey Camp (Ponca Pa’tha’ta, USA), Patricia Gualinga (Sarayaku, Ecuadorian Amazon), Gloria Ushigua Santi (Sapara, Ecuadorian Amazon), Pennie Opal Plant (Yaqui/Choctaw/Cherokee, USA), Crystal Lameman (Beaver Lake Cree, Canada), and Blanca Chancoso (Kichua, Ecuadorian Andes) became family that day in a gesture of solidarity, creating a cross-border allegiance. A couple of months before the UN Climate Change Conference in Paris (COP 2015), the Indigenous Women’s Treaty of the Americas stated their demands to the world —100% renewable energy, the protection of the web of life, and to keep fossil fuels in the ground.

Watch here Defenders of Mother Earth (2015) => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tccy3DnDA8Q

In tune with these trans-indigenous encounters, our friend Fredy Roncalla from Hawansuyo, sent us four poems by Omar Aramayo, a poet from the Titikaka Lake (Puno, Peru). One of them was entitled “The Water Battle”. And, a day after, Kim Shuck, Cherokee poet and contributor to the Indigenous Message on Water, sent us a poem entitled “War”. Neither of them knew about the synchronism! Immediately, we decided to translate the poems and include them in this sprout/post of the Tree. We hope that you enjoy them as much as we did!

Kim Shuck is a poet and visual artist of Tsalagi and Polish ancestry. Her first solo book, Smuggling Cherokee, won the Diane Decorah award in 2005 and was published by Greenfield Review Press. Her first book of prose, Rabbit Stories, came out in 2013 from Poetic Matrix Press. Kim is a founding member of the de Young Museum’s Native Advisory Board (San Francisco) and curates poetry events all over the Bay Area. She also edits the very irregular online journal Rabbit and Rose => http://kimshuck.com/

WAR

By K. Shuck

And in the water war we will

Paint signs of bravery and

Protection onto the

Salmon the

Trout and wade into the

Streams with them and they will

Paint us back in the

War of clear water we will

Insist that water be local and when it

Can’t be local we will weigh the benefit to the

Real costs of lawns in the

Desert or apricots and almonds we will

Seek to understand other people’s

Prayers and what gets flooded by

Dams or drained by canals and

Will consult the birds about the

Wetlands and they might paint us too and the

Consulting board will offer seats to pines and

Sunflowers who defended the people the

Last time and the wolves and beavers who change the

Streams will also be heard and we

Cannot lose cannot

Lose

Omar Aramayo is an Andean poet, journalist, composer, and scholar. Since the 1960s, Omar has published experimental poetry, weaving music, visual arts and ancient traditions from the Titikaka Lake => http://poesiasdeomararamayo.blogspot.com/

THE BATTLE FOR WATER

By Omar Aramayo

Battle of people

battle of terror

the great battle of horror grabs us with stabs in the back

with kicks with bullets with toxic gases with electric nets

although we just realized it, it started a long time ago

the battle in which the word neighbor is broken eyelash by eyelash

cell by cell

an immense forest seeded with dead bodies from all species

the ocean in which the dead have sat down to have dinner

her servants assure they will bring to her every single living being

the keyboard of life has been broken overnight

a wave of sand rises in the wind

one behind the other

the water has gone with life

the survival of the species in the weight scale of doubt

those who are on the other side spit out in the face of life

the square is missing one of its sides

the circle is missing its equidistant center

intelligence has been used in the wrong way

being human has lost its meaning

its sacred side

has lost itself

the hearts of merchants are empty of god

they lie in their houses in front of their children

they lie in front of their wives

until they take their masks off

and their wives and children get in gear

in the name of wealth, the welfare

the personal finances

the order the power the prestige

someone tries to make us understand that this is in the name of the country

someone pops up in the screen speaking in the name of all

right now it’s necessary to know that we live in a country without tomorrow

the loggers the miners

the makers of big machines of big toxins

the city-factories set up on pirate ships

the bankers the politicians

those who sell everything in this time that everything is being sold

even the life they have sold

they have poisoned the earth

they have thrown ulcers on it

they have thrown dead on the water

the air is now full of monsters

lead flows through the children’s blood

elders die bleeding children are born idiotic

women scratch their sterile woumbs

this is the moment to put a stop

maybe there is still something beyond hope

hope is abandoned in the shores of the sea

like beached whales like birds or fish wrapped in plastic

Body of water mouth of water blue planet

other beings have emerged from the darkness

to kill you in the name of gold

to cut your neck as if you were the sweetest animal

of one stroke

an open pit

give us your word give us your blessing

your transparency where the fish glide

lit by the stars

give us the strength

in this battle of terror

What are you going to do city folk

women from plains and mountain ranges

child from the deserts who was just painted with a moon in the forehead

great lightning eye chief from the mountain

great medicine-men with a vegetal mother

teacher who swims toward the islands

agronomist who has lost the hat of the dreams

what are you going to do at this hour

I want to know I want you to tell us what is your role

you the irascible

and you who are a soul of god

in the great battle for water we are all the same

devil’s lawyer accountant who is cooking the books

you have been caught red-handed

facing bakwards painting a strange graffiti in the walls

lonely serpent eye which whistleling to the sun at noon

how are we going to stop the Dark One

the King Midas covered in gold in the center of a sea of shit

mud sand blowing without mercy

the salt period is coming

traces of the crime are planted everywhere

corpses of the criminals spread as cheap jewelry

hanging dry from their feet in the dust in the wind

the planet has been decimated due to lack of intelligence

of fine love

I want to hear your voice

I want to see your hands your chest

your sane intelligence resonating throughout the skies

so the planets might be touched

and the glaciers be dressed again and the streams be flowing full of health

(Translated by Fredy Roncalla and Juan G. Sánchez M.)

Although both poems paint an upside down world, where pollution and pain make us deaf and blind, both poems also envision a victory, where streams will be heard and glaciers will be dressed again. As Elder Josephine Mandamin asked us in our previous post, the main question remains: “what are you going to do city folk?”

Thank you for your patience and support for the past thirteen weeks. Thank you for sharing and spreading this message.

In humility,

Indigenous Message on Water

***

Mientras El árbol siga viviendo, la gente vivirá”: el encuentro entre el águila, el cóndor y el quetzal

condor and eagle title

Hoy queremos cerrar este ciclo con poesía y documental! Diseminando este mensaje intercultural de las últimas trece semanas, hemos tratado de construir puentes entre voces y luchas que están defendiendo el agua a lo largo y ancho del Abya-Yala y la Isla Tortuga. Hoy es especial porque vamos a compartir con ustedes una de las visiones que está detrás de este proyecto, además de las convergencias de los últimos días, las cuales nos han hecho pensar que esto es solo el comienzo. En 1984, el Instituto Internacional de los Cuatro Mundos publicó El árbol sagrado. Reflexiones sobre la espiritualidad nativo-americana. En el primer capítulo, encontramos la siguiente historia:

Los más antiguos nos enseñaron que la vida de El árbol es la vida de la gente. Si la gente deambula lejos de la sombra protectora de El árbol, si ellos olvidan buscar el alimento de su fruto, o si ellos se alzan en contra de El árbol e intentan destruirlo, gran pena caerá sobre ellos. La gente perderá su poder. Cesará de soñar y de tener visiones. Comenzará a pelear por nimiedadez sin valor. Llegará a ser incapaz de decir la verdad y de relacionarse con honestidad. Olvidará cómo sobrevivir en su propia tierra. Sus vidas llegarán a estar llenas de rabia y melancolía. Poco a poco la gente se envenenará a sí misma y a todo lo que toca.

(…) Se predijo que estas cosas sucederían, pero que El árbol nunca moriría. Y mientras El árbol siga viviendo, la gente vivirá. También se predijo que llegaría el día en que la gente se despertaría, como de un largo y pesado sueño; que la gente comenzaría, tímidamente al comienzo y después con gran urgencia, a buscar de nuevo El árbol sagrado… (The Sacred Tree 7)

En las últimas décadas, mayores, educadores y activistas indígenas han hablado sobre los senderos de parentesco entre los pueblos ancestrales que habitan las raíces, el tronco y las ramas del Abya-Yala / Isla Tortuga. Nosotros creemos que todos los protagonistas de los últimos doce posts están recobrando la visión de El gran árbol, y el Mensaje Indígena de Agua quisiera ser parte de este despertar. Movilizaciones globales como Mama Quta Titikaka en el 2009, o movimientos trans-indígenas como Idle No More son parte de las raíces y los frutos de El árbol. De igual forma, los intercambios ceremoniales que tatas mayas y taytas amazónicos han establecido en sus peregrinajes por fuera de su territorio ancestral, son parte de las raíces y los frutos de El árbol.

Y esta es probablemente la razón por la cual el mismo texto que citamos arriba fue usado recientemente en el documental The Encounter of the Eagle and the Condor, dirigido por Clement Guerra (2015). En este proyecto, la abuela Casey Camp lee la historia de El árbol sagrado mientras la naturaleza habla através del lente.

Vea aquí el corto de The Encounter of the Eagle and the Condor => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdmsOq5Bpb4

El 27 de septiembre de 2015, la noche del eclipse lunar, con el apoyo de Indigenous Rising, Indigenous Environmental Network, Amazon Watch, la Alianza Pachamama, y Rainforest Action Network, mujeres indígenas provenientes de las siete direcciones del Abya-Yala / la Isla Tortuga se encontraron en Nueva York y firmaron el Tratado de las Mujeres Indígenas de las Américas. Como se puede ver en Defensoras de la Madre Tierra – otro breve documental de Guerra – las mayores Casey Camp (Ponca Pa’tha’ta, USA), Patricia Gualinga (Sarayaku, Amazonía ecuatoriana), Gloria Ushigua Santi (Sapara, Amazonía ecuatoriana), Pennie Opal Plant (Yaqui/Choctaw/Cherokee, USA), Crystal Lameman (Beaver Lake Cree, Canadá), y Blanca Chancoso (Kichua, Andes ecuatorianos) decidieron crear una alianza más allá de las fronteras de los estados-nación, y convertirse así en familia en un gesto de solidaridad trans-indígena.

Unos meses antes de la Conferencia sobre Cambio Climático en París (COP 2015), el Tratado de las Mujeres Indígenas de las Américas dejó claro sus demandas para el mundo: 100% energía renovable, hay que dejar los combustibles fósiles bajo tierra, y ante todo la protección de la red de la vida.

Vea aquí Defensoras de la Madre Tierra (2015) => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tccy3DnDA8Q

Sintonizado con estos encuentros trans-indígenas, nuestro amigo Fredy Roncalla de la revista virtual Hawansuyo, nos envió cuatro poemas de Omar Aramayo, escritor del lago Titikaka (Puno, Perú), justo cuando estábamos redactando esta nota final. Uno de los poemas de Aramayo se titulaba “La batalla por el agua”. Y un día después, Kim Shuck, poeta Cherokee y colaboradora del Mensaje Indígena de Agua, nos envió a su vez un poema titulado “Guerra”. Por supuesto, ¡ninguno sabía acerca de estas confluencias! Inmediatamente, decidimos con Fredy traducir los poemas, los cuales compartimos aquí abajo para ustedes. Esperamos que los disfruten tanto como nosotros. ¡Gracias a Kim y a Omar!

Kim es poeta y artista visual de descendencia Tsalagi y Polaca. Su primer libro, Smuggling Cherokee, ganó el premio Diane Decorah en el 2005 y fue publicado por Greenfield Review Press. Su primer libro en prosa, Rabbit Stories fue publicado en el 2013 por Poetic Matrix Press. Kim es miembro fundador del consejo asesor indígena del Museo de Young (San Francisco) y organizadora de eventos de poesía en toda el Área de la Bahía de esta ciudad. Ella también edita la esporádica revista en-línea Rabbit and Rose. http://kimshuck.com/

GUERRA

K. Shuck

Y en la guerra por el agua

Pintaremos signos de valentía y

Protección sobre el

Salmón y la

Trucha y nos meteremos con ellos de

Cabeza en las corrientes y ellos nos

Pintarán de vuelta en la

Guerra por el agua clara nosotros

Insistiremos que el agua sea del lugar y cuando

No lo sea tantearemos el beneficio con el

Costo real de prados en el

Desierto o melocotones y almendras

Buscaremos entender los rezos de

Otros pueblos y qué se inunda por

Represas o se drena por canales y

Preguntaremos a los pájaros acerca de

Los pantanos y puede que ellos tambien nos pinten y el

Consejo de guías ofrecerá curules para los pinos y

Los girasoles que defendieron a las gentes la

Última vez y los lobos y los castores que cambian las

Corrientes también serán escuchados y nosotros

No podremos perder no podremos

Perder

(Traducción Fredy Roncalla y Juan G. Sánchez M.)

Omar Aramayo es poeta, periodista, compositor y académico de los Andes peruanos. Desde los años sesenta, ha creado un estilo singular en el que teje poesía, música, artes visuales y tradiciones ancestrales del lago Titikaka. https://hawansuyo.com/2016/05/13/cinco-poemas-del-agua-omar-aramayo/

LA BATALLA POR EL AGUA

Por Omar Aramayo

La batalla de los pueblos

la batalla del espanto

la gran batalla del horror nos toma a puñaladas por la espalda

a puntapiés a balazos a gases tóxicos a redes electrónicas

hace tiempo que ha comenzado aunque hoy recién nos percatamos

la batalla donde se quiebra la palabra prójimo pestaña a pestaña

célula a célula

un inmenso bosque sembrado de cadáveres de todas las especies

el océano donde la muerte se ha sentado a cenar

sus sirvientes aseguran con entregarle a todo ser viviente

el teclado de la vida se ha roto de la noche a la mañana

una ola de arena se levanta en el viento

una detrás de otra

el agua se ha ido con la vida

la supervivencia de las especies en la balanza de la duda

los que están al otro lado escupen en el rostro de la vida

al cuadrado le falta uno de sus lados

al círculo su centro equidistante

la inteligencia ha sido usada en sentido contrario

el ser humano ha perdido sentido

su lado divino

se ha perdido a sí mismo

los comerciantes tienen los corazones vacíos de Dios

en sus casas frente a sus pequeños hijos mienten

frente a sus mujeres mienten

hasta que se quitan las máscaras

y los hijos y las mujeres entran al engranaje

en nombre de la riqueza el bienestar

las finanzas personales

el prestigio el poder el orden

alguien intenta hacernos creer que es en nombre del país

alguien aparece en la pantalla en nombre de todos

es necesario saber ahora que vivimos en un país sin mañana

los taladores de bosques los mineros

los fabricantes de grandes máquinas de los grandes tóxicos

las factorías ciudades montadas sobre barcos piratas

los banqueros los políticos

los que venden todo en este tiempo en que todo se vende

hasta la vida han vendido

han envenado la tierra

le han echado llagas

le han echado muerte al agua

el aire se ha llenado de monstruos

por la sangre de los niños corre plomo

los niños nacen tarados los viejos mueren desangrados

las mujeres se arañan las entrañas estériles

es el momento de ponerles alto

tal vez queda algo más allá de la esperanza

la esperanza está botada en la ribera de los mares

como ballenas varadas como los peces o las aves forradas de plástico

Cuerpo de agua boca de agua planeta azul

otros seres han salido de la oscuridad

a matarte en nombre del oro

a cortarte el cuello como si fueras el más tierno de los animales

de un solo tajo

a tajo abierto

danos tu palabra danos tu bendición

tu transparencia donde los peces se deslizan

a la luz de los astros

a la luz de ellos mismos

danos tu fuerza

en esta batalla del espanto

Qué vas a hacer hombre de las ciudades

mujer de los llanos y cordilleras

niño de los desiertos recién acabado de pintar con una luna sobre la frente

gran jefe ojo de rayo de monte adentro

gran shamán de la madre vegetal

maestro que braceas hacia las islas

ingeniero agrónomo que has perdido el sombrero del sueño

qué vas a hacer en esta hora

quiero saber quiero que nos digas cuál es tu papel

tú iracundo

y tú que eres un alma de Dios

en la gran batalla por el agua somos lo mismo

abogado del diablo contador que llevas cuentas paralelas

has sido descubierto con las manos en la masa

de espaldas pintando en los muros un grafiti muy extraño

ojo solitario de la serpiente que silbas al sol del mediodía

cómo vamos a detener al Oscuro

al rey Midas cubierto de oro al centro de un mar de materia fecal

fango arena que sopla sin piedad

se aproxima el tiempo de la sal

la huella del crimen está sembrada por todo sitio

los cadáveres de los criminales como joyas sin valor derramados

secos colgados de los pies en el polvo en el viento

el planeta ha sido abatido por falta de inteligencia

de amor fino

quiero escuchar tu voz

quiero ver tus manos tu pecho

tu sana inteligencia retumbar por todos los cielos

que los planetas se conmuevan

y otra vez se vistan los glaciares y las corrientes corran plenos de salud

A pesar de que ambos poemas pintan un mundo al revés, en donde la polución y el dolor nos han vuelto sordos y ciegos, ambos poemas vislumbran también una victoria, en donde las corrientes de agua se escucharán de nuevo y los glaciares se vestirán una vez más. Como la abuela Josephin Mandamin nos preguntaba en una de las entradas anteriores, la pregunta principal sigue intacta: ¿qué vamos a hacer nosotros, hombres, mujeres de la ciudad?

Gracias por su paciencia y apoyo en estas trece semanas. Gracias por compartir y diseminar el mensaje.

En humildad,

Mensaje Indígena de Agua

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Hacia los caminos de las Aguas”: de Uchumüin a Wüinpumüin

Kamaash

Kamaach (El Pilón de Azúcar). Foto: Juan Guillermo Sánchez M.

(READ THE ENGLISH VERSION BELOW)

Nuestra invitada hoy es Woumain, la Guajira Wayuu entre Colombia y Venezuela, y su lucha por el Agua y el territorio contra la empresa transnacional de carbón El Cerrejón. Para ello, queremos recomendarles el documental Mushaisha, una pesadilla wayuu de Carlos Mario Piedrahita y Juan Sebastián Grisales (Premio Nacional de Periodismo Simón Bolívar 2014), así como varios textos de escritores wayuu.

Actualmente, los canales de televisión en Colombia, así como las redes sociales en el mundo, pasan documentales sobre la hambruna, la sequía en Woumain, y la muerte de niños Wayuu por inanición. Por primera vez, tal vez en siglos, las personas de las grandes ciudades se están preguntando qué es la Guajira Wayuu. Sin embargo, debido a la delicada situación política y social, los medios de comunicación han fijado una imagen de sufrimiento que olvida la riqueza humana de la nación indígena más numerosa de Colombia. Si bien es cierto que el cambio climático no está permitendo que Jepirachi (los vientos del nordeste) traigan a su tío Juya (la lluvia) para que fecunde a Maa (la tierra), también es cierto que la codicia y la fractura socio-cultural es hoy el resultado de décadas de extractivismo y desplazamientos, en donde no solo El Cerrejón es responsable sino el estado colombiano.

La semana pasada, el poeta y lingüista Wayuu Rafael Mercado Epieyu fue entrevistado en el programa radial de la Universidad Nacional de Colombia “Desde la botica”. Allí, a las preguntas ¿Qué es la Guajira para su comunidad? ¿Qué está pasando en la Guajira? Rafa, gran amigo y colaborador del Mensaje Indígena de Agua, respondió con el siguiente relato:

Nuestro territorio, desde nuestra visión wayuu fundamentada en los relatos ancestrales que se encuentran en la memoria de nuestros abuelos, de nuestras abuelas.

La parte que en castellano se conoce como Alta Guajira, donde se encuentra la Serranía La Macuira, nosotros la denominamos Wüinpumüin, que traduce “Hacia los caminos de las Aguas”. Es ahí, en ese esenario geográfico, donde se encuentra el principio, el origen de la vida para nosotros los Wayuu, a partir del camino de las aguas: Wüinpumüin. Y en ese escenario existen unas deidades que guardan esos lugares sagrados, donde por primera vez brotó la vida, desde el mundo de las Aguas, desde el mundo de Juya, nuestro abuelo. Juya es lluvia, Juya es hombre en Wayuu, y por lo tanto es nuestro abuelo, es El lluvia que conoce el secreto de la vida, en sus principios. En esos lugares sagrados, ahí se encuentran nuestros abuelos, como los animales, el lugar de ojos de agua en esta serranía que se llama Macuira. Entonces la Serranía para nosotros es la serranía madre que cuenta el origen de nuestra cultura.

Y más acá, bajando, donde se encuentra ese paisaje hermoso, donde en todas las tardes y en las mañanas, y en los mediodías de todos los días, es donde se levantan los granos de arena a danzar con el viento que viene del mar, que viene de Palaa, Palaa nuestra abuela, la madre de los vientos. Es ahí, ese escenario, la parte desértica que muestran en los canales, la parte que no hay nada según la televisión colombiana. Para nosotros, ese escenario de danza de vientos con las arenas de la tierra, de nuestra madre tierra, tiene mucho significado, expresa pensamientos primigenios. En las horas de la tarde podemos presenciar y sentir la llegada del viento Rülechi, que viene todas las tardes a caminar del Sur y encontrarse en el cerro que hoy en día se conoce como El Pilón de Azúcar. Este cerro en wayuunaiki se llama Kamaach, el cerro antiguo, el cerro ancestral. Es un escenario en donde se encuentra Rülechi, el viento del Sur, con el viento del Norte, Jepirachi, estos hijos de nuestra abuela Mar, Palaa, se encuentran y dialogan.

Y con estos conceptos que solamente se encuentran en las voces de nuestro abuelos. Pero hoy en día esas voces han sido ignoradas, apagadas, y por eso es que se vende esa imagen de la Guajira desde la visión del blanco. Desde la visión del alijuna [no Wayuu], como no ve cosas que no tiene en su mundo, entonces lo ha denominado como un territorio vacío, sin ningún significado, sino más bien le da ese significado de miseria, de pobreza, pero para nosotros los Wayuu, tiene una riqueza de conocimientos.

Y antes de llegar a la Sierra Nevada [de Santa Marta] está el Río Ranchería. Ahí habitaba la deidad de la fertilidad, nuestra abuela, Perakanawa, pero hoy en día, con los tropiezos y el salvajismo del capitalismo, ha sido destruido su habitat, y nuestra abuela, la deidad de la fertilidad, se ha ido y ha abandonado su lugar. Por eso es que han escuchado seguramente ustedes manifestaciones con el desvío del Río Ranchería [propuesta de El Cerrejón]. Ese Río Rancería era el nido, era habitat de Perakanawa, la deidad, la culebra, la gran abuela, que llegaba y fertilizaba y llenaba de vida a todo ser viviente, desde la hormiga, el árbol más pequeño, el más grande, ahí vivía. Pero ahora con todo el salvajismo del capitalismo ha espantado esa deidad.

Entonces ahí, todo este escenario del departamento [de la Guajira], seguramente si preguntáramos a un hermano Kogui, a un hermano Wiwa, a un hermano Arhuaco, también nos contaría algo parecido….

Escuchar aquí la entrevista completa a Rafael Mercado Epieyu => http://unradio.unal.edu.co/nc/detalle/cat/desde-la-botica.html

En los últimos cuarenta años, El Cerrejón se ha referido a la Guajira como una “tierra subutilazada”, “vacante”, “baldía”, pasando por encima de 3000 años de historias y saberes que los Wayuu han adquirido en Woumain. En Bajo el manto del carbón, Chomsky, Leech y Striffler (2007) han explicado que el proyecto multinacional de extracción del carbón El Cerrejón comenzó en 1975 y, actualmente, tiene un contrato con el gobierno colombiano hasta 2034. Desde el inicio, las comunidades Wayuu de Chancleta, Patilla, Roche, Los Remedios y Tamaquito, así como la comunidad afrodescendiente de Tabaco, fueron desplazadas.

Notiwayuu - train

Foto: Notiwayu / las2orillas => http://www.las2orillas.co/el-cerrejon-el-drama-en-la-guajira/

Remedios Fajardo – reconocida líder Wayuu – ha explicado que los Wayuu no solo han sido desplazados de los lugares de extracción en la Media Guajira como Caracolí y Espinal (Municipio de Barrancas donde viván 350 wayuu) a causa de las acumulaciones de basuras y desperdicios tóxicos; sino también de Puerto Bolívar (a donde llega el tren y de donde es exportado el carbón), conocido por los wayuu como la Media Luna (en donde habitaban 750 wayuu para 1980); y más recientemente del parque eólico Jepirachi (controlado por las Empresas Públicas de Medellín), cuya producción energética solo beneficia al puerto mismo de El Cerrejón. Para Fajardo, además de hurgar las entrañas de los cerros, montañas, bahías y cementerios sagrados, lo más grave es que este proyecto desconoce la concepción wayuu del territorio:

Si ellos salen de sus tierras, el resto de vecinos no les permitirá asentarse en sus territorios, les preguntarán: ¿Por qué entregaron las tierras que juya (la lluvia) les dio? ¿Qué vienen a buscar ahora en nuestras tierras? Según la tradición del pueblo wayuu quien cede sus tierras para quedarse sin ellas, pierde status ante la comunidad, y pierde credibilidad para asumir responsabilidades comunitarias. (Bajo el manto del carbón 22)

Señores Multinacionales, la nación Wayuu no está sola, la Guajira no está baldía, y el Mensaje Indígena de Agua se solidariza con los líderes, escritores, activistas y con las comunidades que están defendiendo en primera línea a Woumain! Es tiempo de dejar tranquilo el carbón en las entrañas de Mma.

Hasta la próxima semana.

***

“Toward the Paths of the Waters”: From Uchumüin To Wüinpumüin

Jepira

Jepira (Cabo de la Vela, Guajira, Colombia). Picture: Juan Guillermo Sánchez M.

Our guest today is Woumain, the Wayuu Guajira between Colombia and Venezuela, and its fight in defending the Ranchería River and the Bruno Creek from the transnational coal mine El Cerrejón. In order to contextualize this long struggle, we would like to share some literary texts by contemporary Wayuu writers.

mapa-ubicacic3b3n-mina-de-cerrejon

Railroad from El Cerrejón Mine to Puerto Bolivar (Bolivar Port). Map: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2016/02/life-latin-america-largest-open-pit-coal-160201114829811.html 

Currently, Colombian mass media and virtual social networks are reproducing news and documentaries on Woumain’s hunger, drought, and the deaths among Wayuu children because of dehydration and starvation. For the first time in centuries, the people in larger cities of South America, or where the South American diaspora is, are interested in the Wayuu Guajira. However, because of the complex social and political situation of the region, the mass media has portrayed a broken image, which sometimes forgets the human richness of the biggest indigenous nation in Colombia. While it is true that global warming has prevented Jepirachi (the winds from the northeast) from bringing their uncle Juya (the rain) to fecundate Mma (the earth), it is also true that today’s greed and social imbalance are the consequences of decades of mining and displacement, for which not just El Cerrejón is responsible but also the Colombian government.

La-Guajira-Cerrejón

El Cerrejón, the largest open-pit coal mine in the world, owned by BHP Billiton, Anglo American and Xstrata/Glencore.Picture: lachachara.org 

On May 5th, the Wayuu poet and linguist Rafael Mercado Epieyu was interviewed in the National University’s radio program “Desde la botica”. To answer the questions “What does the Guajira mean to your community?” and “What is happening in Guajira?”, Rafael, a great friend and contributor of the Indigenous Message on Water, shared the following story:

Our territory, from the Wayuu vision, is founded in the ancestral stories, which are placed in the memory of our grandfathers and grandmothers. The place which is known in Spanish as Alta [Upper] Guajira, where the Macuira Mountain range is, we call it Wüinpumüin, which translates as “Toward the Paths of the Waters”. It’s there, in that geographical scenario where the beginning is, the origin of life, the Paths of the Waters: Wüinpumüin. So, in that scenario there are some deities who keep those sacred places, where, for the first time, life bloomed—from the Waters’ world, from the Juya’s world, our grandfather. Juya is rain, Juya is man in our language, therefore He is our grandfather, He is who knows the secret of life, in its principles. It is in those sacred places that our grandparents can be found, like the animals, the eyes of water in that mountain range which we call Macuira. So, for us, this mountain range is our Mother who tells the story of our culture.

And you go down where that beautiful landscape is, where every afternoon and every morning, and every noon of everyday, the grains of sand dance with the wind, which comes from the sea, from Palaa, our grandmother, the mother of the winds. It’s there, in that scenario, the desertic part that the TV channels show, where there is nothing, according to Colombian television. For us, that place of dancing, between the earth’s sands and the winds, has a lot of meaning; it expresses original thoughts. In the hours before sunset we can witness and feel the arrival of Rülechi, who comes every afternoon, walking from the South to hit the hill, which is known today as El Pilón de Azúcar. This hill, in wayuunaiki, is called Kamaach, the old hill, the ancestral hill. That’s the scenario where Rülechi, the wind from the South, meets with the wind from the North, Jepirachi, both children of our grandma Sea, Palaa. They both meet with each other and dialogue.

And these concepts are only found in our grandparents’ voices. But, nowadays, those voices have been ignored, muted, and that’s why that image of the broken Guajira has been sold by the white men. Because if he does not see the things that he has in his world, the alijuna [non Wayuu] has named Guajira as an empty land, without meaning, giving it a connotation of misery and poverty. But, for us, the Wayuu, the same land is rich in knowledge.

And before one hits the Sierra Nevada [de Santa Marta], there is the Ranchería River. The fertility deity used to inhabit there, our grandmother, Perakanawa, but nowadays, with capitalistic savagery and setbacks, its habitat has been destroyed, and our grandmother, the fertility deity, has gone and abandoned her place. That’s why you have probably heard protests against El Cerrejón’s proposal to change the course of the Ranchería River. The Ranchería River was the nest, the Perakanawa habitat, the deity, the snake, the great grandma, who used to come to fertilize and fill every single being with life from the ant to the biggest tree. She used to live there. But now, all the capitalistic savagery has frightened that deity.

So this is the scenario of the Guajira province. Probably, if we talk to a Kogui brother, a Wiwa brother, or an Arhuaco brother, they would say something similar…

Listen here the complete interview to Rafael Mercado Epieyu (in Spanish)=> http://unradio.unal.edu.co/nc/detalle/cat/desde-la-botica.html

In the last forty years, El Cerrejón has called the Wayuu Guajira an “under-used land”, “vacant”, “empty”, stepping on 3000 years of history and knowledge which the Wayuu nation has built on Woumain. In Bajo el manto del carbón (The People Behind Colombian Coal), Chomsky, Leech and Striffler (2007) have explained that the multinational project of coal extraction El Cerrejón, started in 1975, has a contract with the Colombian government until 2034. From the beginning, the Wayuu communities of Chancleta, Patilla, Roche, Los Remedios, and Tamaquito, as well the Afro-Colombian community of Tabaco, were displaced.

Remedios Fajardo, renowned Wayuu leader, has also explained that the repercussions of El Cerrejón’s projects extend beyond the extraction points of the middle Guajira, such as Caracoli and Espinal, where 350 Wayuu were displaced due to piles of garbage and toxic waste. Puerto Bolivar, furthermore, the train arrives and the coal is exported to Europe and the US, has seen the displacement of 750 Wayuu people. More recently, Wayuu people have been displaced from the Jepirachi Wind Turbine Project, controlled by the Medellin Public Enterprises (EPM), whose energy only benefits El Cerrejón´s port. According to Fajardo, in addition to digging the hills’, mountains’, bays’ and cemeteries’ guts, it’s clear that those projects don’t understand the Wayuu territory:

If the displaced Wayuu leave their lands, the rest of the community won’t permit them to settle in their lands. They will ask them: Why did you give away the lands that Juya, the rain, gave you? What are you looking for in our land? According to Wayuu nation’s tradition, those who give up the land stay landless, lose status among the community, and lose the trust in assuming community responsibilities. (Bajo el manto del carbón 22)

This situation, of course, divides the community, and it ends up being an advantage for the purposes of the multinationals. Meanwhile, with the virtual advertisement of “social responsibility”, “green energies” and cultural programs, as the EPM celebrates in its website, El Cerrejón distracts the attention from the local issues and violates indigenous rights.

Watch here “The Survival of the Wayuu People” by PBI Colombia (2012) => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rs6cGKx6Kdo

As a sovereign response, the Woumain’s literary production is pioneering in the history of indigenous literatures from the Abya-Yala. In March, 2011, the Wayuu writer Estercilia Simanca Pushaina published in her blog “Daño emergente, lucro cesante” (“Emerging Damages, Lost Profits”), a short-story about a Wayuu woman who every Monday crosses El Cerrejón’s railroad with her donkey Mushaisa. The narrator says:

…He [the donkey] and I never got accustomed to the train, and I believe that the people on the other side, in the village, never did either—neither the goats nor the children, nobody in this place. Since I have memory, he [the train] was here, crossing the Peninsula from Uchumüin –South- to Wüinpumüin –North-. People say that he arrives to the sea, and that a big ship comes and takes the coal that the train brought, and then the train returns to look for more coal, digging the guts of Mma, the earth, She who keeps the blood of our birth, and the navels of the newborns. My tata says that the cemeteries of a lot of families are where the train passes, but the train didn’t care because he had to pass that way. The bones could simply be carried from one place to other, and a new cemetery could be built, more beautiful and whiter than the other. But, the train couldn’t make another path, NO! He had to pass that way, and that’s it, you know…, that’s it, the train is still passing everyday and Mondays, in the morning… (read the complete story in Spanish here)

As in all of the posts of the last few weeks, Simanca summarizes an old tension in Woumain, a confrontation between two mindsets, two ways of understanding nature and culture: on one side, the “progress locomotive” and the mining paradigm; on the other side, the resistance of native and peasant communities in defending their territories, their cemeteries, sacred places, livestock, plants, and sovereignty.

Please read this wonderful article by Robert Llewelyn, “Across Colombia by train, with García Márquez”, published in Political Newsletter Counterpunch. (December 26-28, 2014) => http://www.counterpunch.org/2014/12/26/across-colombia-by-train-with-garcia-marquez/

A year after “Emerging Damages, Lost Profits”, on March 7th, 2012, the Wayuu poet Miguel Ángel López-Hernández, also known as Vito Apüshana, published an open letter entitled “Señores Multinacionales” (“Mr. Multinational”) in the Colombian newspaper El Tiempo, in which he also refers to this rivalry between the “progress locomotive” and the ancestral knowledge:

We know that our spirituality, which you call romanticism, is the worst enemy of business; that’s why we don’t expect you to agree with us, we just want to make evident the proportion of your thirst for profit, the size of your disasters, and the final disproportion of your responsibilities.

We compare the weight of your shiny names with the effects on the lands you will devastate: Greystar Gold = stone dust of Santurbán; El Cerrejón = Ranchería River’s steam; MPX (Brazil) = hollow of the green Perijá (Guajira); Anglo Gold Ashanti = sterile slopes of La Colosa (Tolima); Muriel Mining Corporation = poisoned waters of the Cara Perro Hill and Ellausakirandarra (Chocó); Brisa Group = wound in the Julkuwa Hill (Dibulla); Endesa (Emgesa) = Magdalena River’s hunger in El Quimbo (Huila)… among many others.

Large-scale mining is the creature that you have created to support the motion of the world, which, because of its infinite growing, will end up devouring itself, and then, the planet will collapse; the terrible creature who we fight and will fight with rogations of belonging, and songs of collective continuity by the rural inhabitants… songs interweaved from the Inuit’s ice in Canada to the Perito Moreno glaciers in the Tierra del Fuego. To this creature, we’ll say “No”, we’ll say “No more!” And our spilled blood, maybe, will be the last frontier. (Read the full letter in Spanish here)

Apüshana goes beyond Guajira, and sends his message against “the creature” in other latitudes of the Abya-Yala / Turtle Island. His argument puts together the local issue with the global need (post-racial?) for the survival of the humanity.

One month after this letter, Vicenta Siosi Pino, Wayuu writer from the Apshana clan, published “Letter from a Wayuu woman to the Colombian President” in the Colombian newspaper El Espectador, a text that traveled the world in defense of the Ranchería River, the only one that crosses Woumain (published also in the Indigenous Message on Water). Through the mass media, Siosi’s letter generated a national and international attention on the devastation it would cause El Cerrejón’s project of change the course of the river.

The same year Siosi wrote his letter, the poet and linguist Rafael Mercado Epieyu dedicated some poems to the El Cerrejón struggle. In “El tren no sabe detenerse” (“The train doesn’t know to stop”), Woumain is permanently deformed, and She cries while her children cough and the stubborn train, “the progress locomotive”, continues its noise and hurry:

¡shalerein! ¡shalerein! ¡shalerein!

That’s how the noise of the train feet sound

¡tününüin! ¡tününüin! ¡tününüin!

That’s how the earth’s whine sounds under its weight

¡ojo´o! ¡ojo´o! ¡ojo´o!

One can hear the Wayuu cough

Because of that black fine dust that the train emits

They breathe it, drink it, and the children’s skin melts

– Goats should not cross here,

the train does not know how to stop –

Those are the words written in their signs.

¡ja ja ja!

If the old Wayuu don’t know how to make those written words speak

Neither do the goats.

The land of the Wayuu is deformed,

now they are disgraceful to her.

They are well with the richness of its Guajira land.

That’s what people say to them.

Lie, we all know it!

Just a few days ago, due to the resistance of the Wayuu nation against the changing of the course of the Ranchería River, and because of the company’s rush to exploit a mineral that is loosing its power in the macro-economy of the global production of energy, El Cerrejón proposed to change the course of the Bruno Creek, tributary of the Ranchería River, but the response of the community was immediate (read the Manifesto in Spanish).

Dear Mr. Multinational, the Wayuu nation is not alone anymore. With this post, the Indigenous Message on Water shows solidarity with the leaders, advocates, writers and the communities who are defending Woumain in the front-lines! It’s time to leave the coal underground, in the Mma’s guts.

Until next week when we’ll close this cycle of thirteen posts!

***

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“For generations to come”: Josephine Mandamin and the Great Lakes

Josephine Dazhkanziibi

Josephine Mandamin, Walter-walker. Dazh-kan-zii-bi (Thames River), London, Ontario. April 6th, 2014

(LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO)

Today, we would like to pay homage to Josephine Mandamin, Anishinaabe grandmother and water-walker, who has been our inspiration for this blog and the Indigenous Message on Water community. In remembering her teachings, we would like to recommend the documentary Waterlife by Kevin McMahon (2009), and the video interview Sacred Water Walks by The Great Lakes Commons (2015).

Watch here the trailer of Waterlife in where Kevin McMahon features Josephine’s story as an inspirational example for action: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWTu_fXgaqM

On April 4th, 2014, we picked Josephine up from Billy Bishop Airport, Toronto’s island airport in Lake Ontario. She was flying in from Thunder Bay. We went with Paula Marcotte, one of the members of the coalition who organized the Water Film Festival: Right or Privilege?. We took the ferry to the Island. It was raining. The seagulls were bobbing on the water.

After months of trying to contact Josephine, we finally got her email and, in less than a week, everything was set for her visit. “Manda” in Anishinaabemovin means wonder, and “min” means seed. Grandmother Josephine carries in her last name one of the Anishinaabe expressions to name corn, the wonder seed. Josephine is from the fish clan and, as a woman, she feels the responsibility to take care and protect Water.

Thus, in 2003, she had the idea to start walking, with her sister, around the Great Lakes. Her intention was to create awareness among the indigenous and non-indigenous communities who surround the Great Lakes, which are at risk because of the chemicals dumped by farms, sewage systems, and the mining industry. Josephine truly believes that Water is our Mother, and that’s the reason why, in the last 13 years, she has walked more than 17.000 kilometers, sharing the message of her ancestors with people of different ages and origins (follow her journeys since 2003 to the present here).

As she says in the video interview Ojibwa Grandmother Recounts Walk Around the Great Lakes (2008), as a result of her walks, new generations will know that there are grandmothers out there who are protecting Water. Josephine has understood that each lake has its own teaching. Lake Superior, for example, is the Mother of the lakes. Lake Michigan keeps the remains of the ancestors, such as rocks/grandfathers, that stand in a circle, and trees that stand in specific ways. Lake Huron is a unifier: it taught Josephine that there should be a man beside a woman during the walk. Lake Ontario is heavier than the rest of the lakes because of its pollution. “And we have to start doing our work!” Josephine repeats.

Watch Ojibwa Grandmother Recounts Walk Around the Great Lakes => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPega7E8Lhg&index=1&list=PL__TzU4_15OF9Nck8UrVhLyZYw711cbJo

On April 4th, 5th and 6th 2014, Grandmother Josephine Mandamin was our guest-speaker at the Water Film Festival: Right or Privilege? “If it’s for the Water, we have to do it!” she told us. During those three days, before and after the films and talks, she carefully read our anthology. We were really excited by how happy our compilation made her. One afternoon she shared with us the following words, to be included here in our blog:

… to protect Water, we have to connect with Her physically, mentally, and spiritually. In the mornings, before anything else, before even going to the washroom, we have to offer a pinch of Water to Mother, the Earth, pray for it, and then drink a sip. This is my uncle’s teaching: you have to give before you take (…) Many times I have had to cry for the Water. She is a Mother, but she can’t feed her children if she is polluted. You have to be a women to understand what to feed a child means.

Her teachings reminded us immediately of some texts from Indigenous Message on Water such as Mona Polacca’s, Sandy Beardy’s, Vito Apüshana’s, and the paintings by Achu Kantule. Josephine’s insistence of women’s role at this time is also present in the recent video interview by The Great Lake Commons, in which Josephine urges women to lead their communities in the protection of Water:

We have to take care of Mother, the Earth, and that’s what we are doing now, taking care of our Mother, the Earth, especially now in this age when she is really suffering, she is being polluted, she is being prosecuted, she is being sold, you know, all these things are happening to Her, it’s happening to us, women. So, I think about how these days women have to start thinking about bundles. We have to rethink about how important it is. So, we have to really know who we are as women, that we are very powerful women. We can be very instrumental in how things are changing… (video interview Every Step is a Prayer. Sacred Water Walks)

Watch video interview here, Every Step is a Prayer. Sacred Water Walks => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vV5zD2GrAAg&list=PL__TzU4_15OF9Nck8UrVhLyZYw711cbJo&index=76

We built together the Water Film Festival: Right or Privilege?, thanks to the Indigenous Message on Water and The Council of Canadians, The Latin-American Canadian Solidarity Association, Western University Indigenous Services, and London Museum. Around 300 people participated in the weekend’s events and local organizations such as Wellington Water Watchers shared their own fight to defend the Guelph’s aquifer from the transnational company Nestlé.

Watch here the clasic Bottled life by Ursula Schenell => http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czfSwjx4yYA

Josephine was direct with the audience: “And, after these reflections, what are you going to do?” Following Josephine’s question, there was an important moment of reflection on our own responsibility with Water in our daily lives. As Mike Nagy, director of Wellington Water Watchers, reminded us: it is not enough to reuse, reduce, and recycle. We also need to refuse!

Thank you, Josephine, for your teachings!

Until next week.

***

“Para las generaciones por venir”: Josephin Mandamin y sus caminatas por los Grandes Lagos

Josephine y Juan

Josephine Mandamin, caminante de los Grandes Lagos, y Juan Guillermo Sánchez, co-editor del Mensaje Indígena de Agua, en London, Ontario. Abril 6 de 2014.

Hoy queremos ofrecer un homenaje a Josephine Mandamin, abuela Anishinaabe, caminante del agua, inspiración para mantener nuestro blog y la comunidad del Mensaje Indígena de Agua. Recordando sus enseñanzas, también queremos recomendar el documental Waterlife de Kevin McMahon (2009), y el video de la entrevista Sacred Water Walks realizada por The Great Lakes Commons (2015).

Aquí el corto de Waterlife, en donde Kevin McMahon presenta la historia de Josephine como un ejemplo para la acción => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWTu_fXgaqM

El 4 de abril de 2014 fuimos a recoger a la abuela Josephine Mandamin al aeropuerto de Toronto, ubicado sobre una de las islas del lago Ontario. Viajaba desde Thunder Bay. Fuimos a recibirla con Paula Marcotte, uno de los miembros de la coalición organizadora del Festival de Cine por el Agua ¿Derecho o privilegio? Tomamos el ferry. La lluvia no cesaba. Las gaviotas estaban bailando sobre el agua.

Después de meses buscando cómo contactar a la abuela Josephine, unos días atrás habíamos conseguido su correo y en menos de una semana todo estaba arreglado para su visita. “Manda”, en lengua Anishinaabemovin significa sorpresa, asombro, maravilla; “min”, semilla. La abuela Josephine lleva en su apellido una de las expresiones Anishinaabe con las que se nombra el maíz, la semilla sagrada. Josephine es del clan del pescado y, como muchas mujeres Anishinaabe, siente que su responsabilidad es cuidar y proteger el agua.

En 2003, tuvo la idea de caminar junto con su hermana alrededor de los Grandes Lagos y ríos del este de Canadá y los Estados Unidos buscando crear conciencia entre las comunidades (indígenas y no indígenas) que circundan estos cuerpos de agua, amenazados hoy por las sustancias químicas de la industria agrícola y la minería irresponsables (ver la memoria de sus caminatas desde el 2003 hasta hoy). Con la convicción de que el Agua es nuestra madre, en los últimos trece años Josephine ha caminado más de 17.000 kilómetros llevando el mensaje de sus ancestros, los primeros días solo con su familia y en los últimos años con cientos de personas de todas las edades y orígenes.

Ver Ojibwa Grandmother Recounts Walk Around the Great Lakes => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPega7E8Lhg&index=1&list=PL__TzU4_15OF9Nck8UrVhLyZYw711cbJo

¡Gracias, Josephine, por las enseñanzas y las caminatas!

Hasta la próxima semana.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“And everything we do, we are responsible”: Hudbay Minerals

IMG_0294

Santa Rita Mountains, Arizona. Picture: Mona Polacca

LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO

Eight weeks ago, we started a cycle of posts on the struggles and alternatives to defend the Water of the Abya-Yala and the Turtle Island. Today, inspired by the documentary Flin Flon Flim Flam (2015) by John Dougherty (InvestigateMedia), we would like to share a personal account of Grandmother Mona Polacca, co-secretariat of the Indigenous World Forum on Water and Peace, and take a moment to reflect upon the intentions of our blog in the Information Era.

bio-pic-2015mona

Gradmother Mona Polacca

THE STORY

Mona Polacca is a Havasupai/Hopi/Tewa Elder from Arizona (see http://www.grandmotherscouncil.org/who-we-are/grandmother-mona-polacca). When we were writing this post, we asked for her guidance and she sent us this powerful story. Thank you, Mona!

…I was on a drive through southern Arizona. I was commenting to my friend, Austin Nunez (the Chairman of the Wa:K Community AKA San Xavier District of the Tohono O’odham Nation) how I was feeling the spirit and heart of the land as we were driving through the desert. I had mentioned that I needed to take pictures because I had never been to this area before yet, felt de-javu, that I had been there in my dream. I also had the thought that, “maybe this will be the only time I will see this place like this!

I thought he didn’t hear me since he kept driving and I was trying to take pictures while we were moving, you know how that goes! Anyway, he suddenly pulled off the road at a viewpoint looking down across the valley and mountains. He then told me about the Rosemont Mine, and that this landscape I was admiring would soon be the largest open-pit copper mine in the western hemisphere. I was saddened. I asked him, “What are you doing about it?”. He responded, “We are opposed to it, and we are fighting to stop it”.

A few days later, I drove there on my way to the Apache Springs Horse Ranch, which is located near the proposed Rosemont site and the Cienega Springs mentioned in the film. That’s when I noticed this amazing mountain range, Santa Rita Mountains in the distance, there was an area that had snowcaps, so “beautiful” I thought, “must take a picture”. I tried, while I was driving – a big “no no”, especially when driving on a narrow winding road!! I decided to wait until I could turn off the road and stop, and decided that if the mountains were no longer in view, I could accept that, after all I had the memory stored where I will always have it with me. So, when I came to the road I had to take to the horse ranch, as I drove to the ranch there before me was the mountains, the part that had the snowcaps! I was over-whelmed by what I saw! I cried and said, “You are a guardian spirit woman mountain, they cannot destroy you”! I continued my drive to the ranch, which turned out to be sitting below this special part of the mountain. I asked the owners of the ranch, “Do you know that that mountain is very sacred?” they said, “Yes, and we are doing everything we can to take care of the space she has given us to use”. I was happy to know that, I thought, these would be supporters and/or defenders of the Santa Rita Mountains from the Hudbay mining proposal.

While at the ranch, I made a wonderful relationship of unconditional love and acceptance with a horse named Cochise. I made a promise to him and all the other horses that I would make prayers for protection of their home. And so it is – I am making prayers in that way…

FLIN FLON FLIM FLAM

At the convergence of damage and hope, Flin Flon Flim Flam weaves together interviews and facts about four different mining projects orchestrated by the Canadian-based Transnational Company Hudbay Minerals: Mine 777, and Reed Mine in the Grass River Provincial Park (Flin Flon, Manitoba, Canada), El Estor, Lote 8, and Vigil’s Mine in Maya Q’ech’i territory (Guatemala), Constancia Mine in Uchucarco (Chumbivilcus Province, Perú), and the Rosemont Project in the sacred Santa Rita Mountains (Arizona, US).

WATCH Flin Flon Flim Flam => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7aacPtEI8s&feature=youtu.be 

The facts and statements collected in the movie are both disturbing and encouraging, thus our post today would like to acknowledge the resourcefulness and bravery of its protagonists. Despite the fact that Flin Flon’s aquifer and soil are full of metal concentrations—a consequence of the 85 years of irresponsible operations by Hudbay Minerals—Mathias Colomb Cree Nation and Chief Arten Dumas are fighting back! Although the Peruvian nation-state police are violently repressing the Uchucarco community protests, Quechua advocates are denouncing the damage of heavy traffic on the road, copper dust in the air, and the failure of the company in fulfilling job quotas. In Toronto, Hudbay Minerals is being sued by Angelica Choc, German Chub, and eleven women from the Q’eqch’i nation. By holding a Canadian company accountable for the acts of an overseas subsidiary, this lawsuit is endeavouring to set a precedent for future incidences (read article in the New York Times).

Finally, despite the 1872 General Mining Law, which encourages companies such as Hudbay Minerals to continue destroying the land in Arizona and the rest of the USA, a coalition between the City of Tucson, the Pima County, the Yaqui Nation, the Tohono O’odham Nation, and several Congressional representatives, are together protecting the Santa Rita Mountains, the heart of the Cienaga Springs, a habitat of twelve endangered species such as the wild jaguar and the ocelotl (read http://www.rosemontminetruth.com).

We have borrowed the title of our post, “And everything we do, we are responsible”, from the Hudbay Minerals’ President and CEO David Garofalo, whose words in the documentary are incongruous with the actions of his company. By contrasting Garofalo’s speech with Hudbay Minerals’ actions, Flin Flon Flim Flam reminds us of the power of resistance in subverting discourses.

Flin Flon Flim Flam is both asking for action and reflection: action to stop these four projects (especially Rosemont, which has not yet started); and reflection on the words and the actions of its protagonists, including our own, as contemporaries. Beyond the tired categories of Third and First World, the documentary shows how the mining industry is affecting indigenous and local communities regardless of the location—in Canada, USA, Peru or Guatemala. Corruption, impunity, and lack of regulation are present in all of these scenarios. As a response, the documentary underlines how decisive intercultural initiatives can be. Ray Carroll, Pima County’s AZ Supervisor, explains his county’s major concern:

Why sell tomorrow to pay for today, is the opinion of most of the people that I represent.

We want to believe that our blog is a way of action, and sharing information in Facebook, Twitter, or any other social media with our friends and family are ways of action, too! Despite the amount of violence and damage caused by mining projects and reproduced by the mass media and news, in acknowledging indigenous and local organization who are defending Water, we are part of a global stream of consciousness concerned with Water for future generations.

Thus, we hope you share with us your comments, and spread these posts among your friends and family. Please do not hesitate to contact us if you would like to publish news related to water in your community.

Until next week!

~~~

“De todo lo que hacemos, nosotros somos los responsables”: Hudbay Minerals

IMG_0293

Las montañas de Santa Rita a lo lejos. Foto: Mona Polacca

Ocho semanas atrás comenzamos este ciclo de notas sobre problemáticas y alternativas para defender el agua en la Isla Tortuga (Norteamérica) y el Abya-Yala (América toda, la tierra en plena madurez Tule-Guna). Hoy, inspirados en el documental Flin Flon Flim Flam (2015) dirigido por John Dougherty (InvestigateMedia), queremos compartirles una historia personal de la abuela Mona Polacca, co-secretaria del Foro Indígena Mundial Sobre el Agua y la Paz, y hacer una pausa para visualizar la intención de este blog en la Era de la Información.

LA HISTORIA

Mona Polacca es guía espiritual de las naciones Havasupai/Hopi/Tewa de Arizona (ver http://www.grandmotherscouncil.org/who-we-are/grandmother-mona-polacca). Cuando estábamos escribiendo esta entrada, le pedimos su consejo, y ella nos envió la historia que copiamos a continuación. ¡Gracias, Mona!

… Yo estaba viajando por el sur de Arizona. Le estaba comentando a mi amigo Austin Nuñez, el presidente de la comunidad Wa:K AKA del Distrito de San Xavier de la Nación Tohono O’odham, cómo estaba sintiendo el corazón y el espíritu de esa tierra mientras atravesábamos el desierto. Yo había dicho que necesitaba tomar fotos porque nunca había estado en esta área antes, sentía como dejavu, como si yo hubiera estado allí en mi sueño. También tenía el pensamiento: “¡Tal vez esta será la única vez que vea este lugar así!”

Pensé que no me había escuchado porque él continuó manejando y yo estaba tratando de tomar fotos mientras nos movíamos, ¡tú sabes cómo es eso! En fin, de pronto él se salió de la carretera y paró en un mirador desde donde se veían las montañas y el valle. Entonces me habló sobre la Mina Rosemont, y que ese paisaje que yo estaba admirando pronto sería la mina de cobre a cielo abierto más grande en el hemisferio occidental. Yo me puse triste. Le pregunté: “¿Qué están haciendo ustedes?”. Él me respondió: “Estamos en contra, y estamos luchando para detenerlo.”

Unos días después, pasé por allí de camino al rancho de caballos Apache Springs, el cual está ubicado cerca del sitio propuesto para la mina, y también de Cienaga Springs, el cual mencionan en la película [Flin Flon Flim Flam, ver abajo]. Ahí fue cuando caí en cuenta de esta maravillosa cadena montañosa, las montañas de Santa Rita en la distancia, había una área con casquetes de nieve, “¡qué hermoso!”, pensé, “tengo que tomar una foto”. Traté mientras estaba manejando, pero “no, no”, sobre todo en una angosta y ventosa carretera. Decidí esperar hasta que pudiera parar, y si las montañas no estaban entonces en el panorama, tendría que aceptarlo, pues después de todo tenía la memoria guardada y siempre las tendría conmigo. Entonces cuando llegué a la carretera que tenía que tomar, mientras manejaba hacia el rancho de caballos, ahí estaban ante mí las montañas, ¡la parte que tenía los casquetes de hielo! ¡Yo estaba abrumada por lo que veía! Lloré y dije: “Tú eres guardián, mujer espíritu de la Montaña, ¡ellos no pueden destruirte!” Continué manejando hacia el rancho, el que terminó ubicado justo debajo de esa parte especial de la montaña. Les pregunté a los dueños del rancho: “¿Ustedes saben que esta montaña es sagrada?”. Ellos dijeron: “Sí, y estamos haciendo todo lo que podemos para cuidar el espacio que ella nos ha permitido usar”. Yo estaba feliz de saberlo, y pensé, “ellos deben ser defensores de las montañas de Santa Rita contra el proyecto minero de Hudbay”.

Cuando estaba en el rancho, hice una relación maravillosa de amor incondicional y aceptación con un caballo llamado Cochise. Le hice una promesa a él y a todos los otros caballos, que yo haría oraciones para proteger su casa. Y así es, estoy haciendo oraciones hacia esa dirección…

FLIN FLON FLIM FLAM

En la convergencia entre el daño y la esperanza, Flin Flon Flim Flam teje entrevistas y hechos relacionados con cuatro proyectos mineros orquestados por la compañía transnacional con base en Canadá Hudbay Minerals: la mina 777 y la mina Reed en el Parque Estatal Grass River (Flin Flon, Manitoba, Canada), las minas de El Estor, Lote 8 y Vigil en territorio Maya Q’ech’i (Guatemala), la de mina de Constancia en Uchucarco (Provincia de Chumbivilcus, Perú), y el proyecto Rosemont en las montañas sagradas de Santa Rita (Arizona, US).

VER Flin Flon Flim Flam (español, inglés, quechua y q’eqch’i) => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7aacPtEI8s&feature=youtu.be 

 

Hoy hemos prestado el título de nuestro post, “De todo lo que hacemos, nosotros somos los responsables”, del presidente y director ejecutivo de Hudbay Minerals, David Garofalo, cuyas palabras en el documental son incongruentes con las acciones de su compañía. Al contrastar el discurso de Garofalo con las acciones de Hudbay Minerals,  Flin Flon Flim Flam nos recuerda la fuerza de subvertir los discursos.

Este documental nos invita al mismo tiempo a actuar y a reflexionar: actuar en contra de estos cuatro proyectos (especialmente el de la mina Rosemont, la cual no ha comenzado aun), y a reflexionar sobre las palabras y los actos de sus protagonistas, incluidos nosotros mismos como contemporáneos de estas problemáticas. Más allá de las desgastadas categorías de Primer y Tercer mundo, el documental demuestra cómo la industria extractiva está afectando comunidades campesinas, indígenas y locales igual en Canadá que en Estados Unidos, Perú o Guatemala. Corrupción, impunidad, y falta de regulación están presentes en todos estos escenarios. Como respuesta, el documental subraya lo decisivas que pueden llegar a ser las iniciativas interculturales. Ray Carroll, Supervisor del condado de Pima, explica la mayor preocupación de su condado:

Para qué vender el mañana para pagar el hoy, esa es la opinión de la mayoría de la gente que yo represento.

Nosotros creemos que este blog es una forma de acción, y compartir en Facebook, Twitter o cualquier otra red social, con nuestros amigos y nuestra familia ¡son formas de acción! Apesar de la cantidad de violencia y daño causados por los proyectos mineros, al reconocer las organizaciones locales e indígenas que defienden el agua, estamos siendo parte de una corriente global de conciencia, dispuesta a proteger el agua para las futuras generaciones.

Estaremos esperando sus comentarios. ¡Pasen la voz entre amigos y familia!

No duden en contactarnos si quisieran publicar alguna noticia/alternativa/iniciativa relacionada con el agua de su comunidad.

¡Hasta la próxima semana!

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Not for sale, just to protect: Wallmapu’s water!

banner1

LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO

This week, we bring poetry, documentaries, and mobilizations from the Wallmapu, the ancestral Mapuche land both east and west of the Andes.

MOBILIZATION 

The words written by Maria Teresa Panchillo, María Huenuñir, Lorenzo Ayllapán, Jaime Luis Huenún, Graciela Huinao, and Rayen Kvyeh are part of the cultural expressions that are currently defending the Wallmapu’s water. Their verses and stories are part of our anthology Indigenous Message on Water.

Carátula libro

READ here = https://waterandpeace.wordpress.com/from-the-elders/

Because of their words, we know of the long battle of the Mapuche nation against the monoculture forestry, the hydroelectric dams, and the Chilean state’s terrorism in this region. Therefore, in solidarity with the Mapuche struggle, and in celebration of EARTH DAY on April 22nd, we would like to invite you to support the IV Transnational Mobilization in Defending Water and Territory, April 23th and 24th, 2016 in Temuko (Wallmapu/Chile). Here is the call for action:

Our group has chosen the Araucania Region to propel a new decentralized agenda. We want to support the cultural expressions that defend the territory against the Chilean state’s violent project of extracting the ancestral territory of the Wallmapu; specifically, the forestry/mining/energy/water industries, which violate the Mapuche’s Human Rights… (Read the full document in Spanish=> http://aguaenmarcha.cl/wp/encuentro-plurinacional/)

el agua no se vende se defiende

SEEDING POVERTY

The pine and eucalyptus cellulose industry is, after copper,  the most lucrative export of the Chilean economy. The forestry industry’s fund (Fondo Maderero) is a privileged budget of the State, supported by Law 701 (signed by the dictator Pinochet in 1974), which favors private companies such as ARAUCO, and CMBC.

In addition to the historical tensions, and the state’s complicity in these decisions, there is currently a paradox in monoculture forestry in the Wallmapu/Chile: the Chilean State talks about a cellulose forest, while the Mapuche movement talks about the native forest. After forty years of monoculture forestry, there are currently 2.5 million pine and eucalyptus hectares in the south-central region of the Wallmapu. As explained by the documentary Plantar pobreza: el negocio forestal en Chile, the main problem with the non-native tree monoculture is that since the tress are all the same age, they modify the native soil’s hydric balance, drying the aquifer that guarantees the communities’ wells and food sovereignty. Also, the pine’s turpentine, added to the dry soil, is producing spontaneous forest fires.

In order to contextualize the IV Transnational Mobilization, we would like to recommend the news report  “The Mapuche of Chile – Struggle for Territorial Rights and Justice”, produced by Deutsche Welle:

WATCH HERE = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41pnfq27Oak 

SEEDING POETRY

On March 17th, 2014, during the book launch for the Indigenous Message on Water in London (Ontario, Canada), Rayen Kvyeh participated via Skype from Temuko. She kindly shared an historical background of the Mapuche struggle in the Araucania (south-central region of the Wallmapu). She told us about the Quillín treaty, signed in 1641, in which the Spanish crown recognized the Independent Mapuche Nation, south of the Bíobío River. She also reminded us that the Chilean State ignored this treaty, and between 1830 and 1881, occupied the Mapuche territory, burning the rukas (houses) and crops, and stealing the cattle. Today, despite the fact that the Chilean state is criminalizing the pacific protest, and is using the anti-terrorism law against the Mapuche advocates, Rayen Kvyeh and the Mapuche writers, journalists, filmmakers, Elders, send us hope with their strength.

WATCH here the Mapuche political prisoners’ lawyer  reflect on the 2015 Inter-American Court decision in favour  of the Wallmapu => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1mjMgOSE3Y

From the Bíobío River to Temuko, we would like to leave you today with the Kvyeh’s poem, “Fíu fíu – Bío bío”, part of the Indigenous Message on Water:

The rivers flow like blood upon the earth

Hauling along the dreams of my Elders

the food of our freedom.

That’s why, Bío Bío,

they imprision you behind a dam.

FUXALEUFU

You, who carries the breath of araucaria trees.

You, who tells

LAFKENMAPU stories

and transmits the snow message

in the weeping winter

and Water for my siblings.

That’s why, Bío-Bío,

they want you, Majestic River.

Foreign men

do not see our history’s heartbeat

in your Waters.

They want to halt your song

and silence our ancestral native voices.

Condors of the sun kiss your Waters.

My ancestors are rising up!                  (Indigenous Message… 128)

If you like this post, please share it, and walk with us on April 23th, wherever you are, with the IV Transnational Mobilization in Defending Water and Territory.

Until next week!

***

¡EL AGUA NO SE VENDE, EL AGUA SE DEFIENDE!: WALLMAPU

14963687220_30bb27778d

Poeta Rayen Kvyeh. FOTO: Consejo Nacional de la Cultura y las Artes

Esta semana traemos poesía, documental y marcha pacífica desde el Wallmapu, la nación Mapuche al este y al oeste de los Andes.

¡MARCHA!

Dentro de las diversas expresiones que defienden el agua en el Wallmapu, está la poesía de Maria Teresa Panchillo, María Huenuñir, Lorenzo Ayllapán, Jaime Luis Huenún, Graciela Huinao, y Rayen Kvyeh, quienes hicieron parte de nuestra antología Mensaje Indígena de Agua

Libro Piedra

Descargar aquí antología=> https://waterandpeace.wordpress.com/from-the-elders/ 

Por ellos, conocemos las luchas de la nación Mapuche contra los monocultivos forestales, las represas hidroeléctricas, y el terrorismo de estado. Este es el mensaje de María Teresa Panchillo, María Huenuñir y Lorenzo Ayllapan, cuando visitaron Montreal (Hochelaga) en septiembre de 2012 => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S28nCznrFUg

Con este encuentro en la memoria, y celebrando el DIA DE LA TIERRA, hoy queremos invitarlos a que acompañen el próximo 23 y 24 de abril en Temuko (Wallmapu/Chile) la IV Marcha del Movimiento Plurinacional por la Defensa de las Aguas y los Territorios. Aquí el comunicado:

El movimiento ha definido la Región de la Araucanía para reimpulsar su nueva agenda de trabajo como acto de descentralización, como también, para respaldar las diversas expresiones que defienden los territorios ante la violenta ofensiva estatal-empresarial por establecer nuevas formas de invasión y saqueo a los territorios ancestrales de Wallmapu, particularmente, las relacionadas con la industria forestal, energética, acuícola, agroindustrial e incluso minera, transgrediendo derechos humanos de una amplia población… (Leer el comunicado completo aquí =>http://aguaenmarcha.cl/wp/encuentro-plurinacional/)

Por favor pasen la voz, compartan este post, y el 23 de abril caminen con la Marcha Plurinacional donde quiera que estén.

¡Hasta la próxima semana!

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

“The future is a realm we have inhabited for thousands of years”: Traditional Ecological Knowledge

Little BearDr. Leroy Little Bear

(LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO)

For the last three weeks we have been sharing videos and teachings related to water issues in Indigenous territories. The message of the Elders from Nunjwákala/Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, the resistance of the Mikmak community in Elsipogtog against transnational mining, and the victory of the Sarayaku nation in the Amazon over the Ecuadorian state are all examples of when two mind-sets clash. They all show the need of an intercultural dialogue, a point of convergence between Indigenous knowledge and Western science.

Today, celebrating the equinox, we would like to invite you to think about this convergence, based on the talk by Dr. Leroy Little Bear, a Blackfoot Elder and scholar who, in January 2015, with the support of The Banff Centre, proposed some contrasts and similarities between quantum physics and Indigenous knowledge:

Watch => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJSJ28eEUjI

With humor and humility, Dr. Little Bear reminds us that science is all about the unknown, and not about formulas, math or the application of the known (technology). For him, the “constant flux” of quantum physics is currently dialoguing with the ancestral thought about the constant flow among all beings. In addition to matter and particles, the Blackfoot epistemology also talks about energy waves, which, in other words, could be called spirit. From this point of view, everything is alive/animated/related; therefore, it is not possible to study it in isolation as Western science sometimes does. In Dr. Little Bear’s words, quantum physics have started to realize the need for a holistic approach in which matter, motion and constant transformation are the foundation of renewal.

In tune with Elder Little Bear’s talk, Tsalagi/Ojibwe scholar Valerie Goodness has proposed Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) to refer to the first nations’ techniques and ancestral knowledge. TEK offers, for example, alternative methods for irrigation, soil conservation, ecosystems and natural water reservoirs, astronomy, and use of medicinal plants. For Goodness, Western scientists are now accepting the fact that Indigenous peoples have an understanding of uncertainty and intuition that allows them to detect changes in ecosystems quicker. (READ: “Idle No More: Decolonizing Water, Food and Natural Resources With TEK”) As in the Blackfoot epistemology, Goodness recalls that in Haudenosaunee thinking all species and beings are interconnected, and it is from this “way of being in the world” (ethos) that it is possible to achieve sustainability:

All things are connected. Mother Earth, the Waters, Fish, Grasses, Medicine Plants, Food Plants, Animals, Trees, Birds, Four Winds, Grandfather Thunder, Elder Brother the Sun, Grandmother Moon, Stars, the protectors, Handsome Lake and the Creator are all connected and thanked. (Goodness, Web)

Based on these reflections, to look ahead, therefore, we must recover the past; perhaps reimagine the time beyond a straight line. The clarity of this certainty vibrates in the words of thinkers such as Little Bear and Goodness. These are voices that connect ancient cosmologies with a future of welfare for the generations to come. In the words of Hawaiian writer Bryan Kamaoli Kuwada:

Yet remembering the past does not mean that we are wallowing in it. Paying attention to our history does not mean we are ostriching our heads in the sand, refusing to believe that the modern world is all around us. We native peoples carry our histories, memories, and stories in our skin, in our bones, in our health, in our children, in the movement of our hands, in our interactions with modernity, in the way we hold ourselves on the land and sea (…) Standing on our mountain of connections, our foundation of history and stories and love, we can see both where the path behind us has come from and where the path ahead leads. This connection assures us that when we move forward, we can never be lost because we always know how to get back home. The future is a realm we have inhabited for thousands of years. (“We live in the future. Come join us.”. READ: Kekaupu Hehiale. Abril 3 de 2014).

There is, therefore, an arduous way to go if we want to establish a dialogue between mindsets. It is not a one way journey, but a number of trails which we could take simultaneously to find convergences.

***

Anishinabeg Wheel

Anishinabee/Ojibwe Medicine Wheel

“EL FUTURO ES UN REINO QUE HEMOS HABITADO DESDE HACE MILES DE AÑOS”: CONOCIMIENTO TRADICIONAL ECOLÓGICO

En las últimas tres semanas hemos estado compartiendo enseñanzas y videos relacionados con el agua en territorios indígenas. El mensaje de los hermanos mayores desde Nunjwákala/Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, la resistencia de la comunidad Mikmak en Elsipogtog contra la minería transnacional, y la victoria de la nación Sarayaku en la Amazonía sobre el estado ecuatoriano, son todos ejemplos en donde dos modos de pensar chocan. Todos ellos muestran la necesidad de un diálogo intercultural, un punto de convergencia entre el conocimiento indígena y la ciencia occidental.

Hoy, celebrando el equinoccio, queremos invitarlos a pensar en este puente a partir de la charla del Dr. Leroy Little Bear, sabedor Blackfoot y académico, quien en enero de 2015, con el apoyo de The Banff Centre, propuso algunas diferencias y similitudes entre la física cuántica y el conocimiento indígena.

VER AQUÍ => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJSJ28eEUjI

Con humor y humildad, el mayor Little Bear nos recuerda cómo el objetivo de la ciencia es ahondar en lo desconocido y no quedarse en fórmulas o aplicaciones de lo conocido (tecnología). Para él, la idea de “flujo constante” de la física cuántica está dialogando hoy con el pensamiento ancestral y su idea del flujo constante entre todos los seres de la existencia. Además de materia y de partículas, la epistemología Blackfoot habla también de ondas de energía, que en otras palabras podrían llamarse espíritu. Desde esta perspectiva, todo está vivo y todo se relaciona, razón por la cual no es posible estudiar de forma aislada “la naturaleza” como a veces pretende la ciencia occidental. En palabras de Dr. Little Bear, afortunadamente la física cuántica ha comenzado a darse cuenta de la necesidad de un enfoque holístico en donde la materia, el movimiento y la constante transformación sean la base de la renovación de la naturaleza.

Hay, pues, un arduo camino por recorrer si queremos establecer un diálogo entre epistemologìas por el bien de las futuras generaciones. No es un camino unívoco, sino una serie de senderos que debemos andar simultáneamente para encontrar las convergencias.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

“We believe that in life we have to fight for what’s important”: Sarayaku

Sarayaku 2

Patricia Gualinga and Sarayaku advocates

 

(LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO)

Today, we have borrowed the title of our post from Eriberto Gualinga’s reflection in the closing of his documentary Children of the Jaguar—a brave testimony of resistance by the Sarayaku nation (2002-2012) against the Ecuadorian State’s project of oil extraction in the Amazon. In the presence of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights in Costa Rica, Jose Gualinga, Eriberto’s brother and Sarayaku President, explains the connection between his community and the forest:

We’ve come from our distant lands in Sarayaku, from the River of Maize. We’re descended from the Jaguar, children of Amazanga Runa, sons and daughters of the People of the Midday.

Children of the Jaguar shows the courage of indigenous filmmakers as they use video and creativity as a weapon to protect their territories. In 2002, the Ecuadorian government violated the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention 169 of the International Labor Organization when it did not consult the Sarayaku nation in its plans of oil exploration in their territory. With the support of lawyers from the Pachamama Alliance, and allies such as Amnesty International, seventeen representatives from the Sarayaku nation traveled to Costa Rica in 2012 and won a long legal battle. This victory has stood as an example for other communities facing similar struggles in the Abya-Yala.

Beyond the economical value of oil and minerals, Patricia Gualinga, representative of Sarayaku women and family, explains the sacredness and ritual meaning of protecting water and nature:

The worldview of the Sarayaku is about respect for all the other living things in the rainforest. It’s also about defending our land and about the equilibrium that we must maintain in Sarayaku. That’s what we want to share with the rest of humanity.

Today, besides oil extraction, as Nora Álvarez-Berríos and T. Mitchell Aide explain in Environmental Research Letters, there is a link between the 2008 economic crisis, and the rising price and global demand for gold (see John C. Cannon’s analysis in “Amazon Gold Rush Destroying Huge swaths of Rainforest”) Thus, between 2001 and 2012, 1680 square kilometers have been destroyed by gold mining in the Amazon.

Since the 1990’s, however, Ka’apor activists in Maranhao (Brazil), Karapó activists in southern Pará (Brazil), and Kichwa and Achuar activists in Peru and Ecuador have resisted the siege of the lungs of the planet by the “mining creatures”. (See the article “Amazon Indigenous Activists Occupy are taking direct action – And it’s working!”).

Thank you to the Sarayaku nation, and to all of the Amazonian advocates, for your bravery and humility.

We hope our waterandpeace community enjoy Children of the Jaguar as much as we did (watch => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ma1QSmtuiLQ)

Until next week!

***

“Estamos convencidos de que en la vida hay que luchar por las cosas que importan”: Sarayaku

2011-sarayaku-testify_400

José Gualinga, presidente de Sarayaku en 2012

Hoy hemos tomado prestado el título de nuestro post de la reflexión de Eriberto Gualinga en el cierre de su documental Hijos del Jaguar, un testimonio de resistencia de la nación Sarayaku (2002-2012) contra la extracción de petróleo en el Amazonas por parte del estado ecuatoriano. Al principio del documental, José Gualinga, del hermano de Eriberto y presidente de Sarayaku, explica en presencia de la Corte Interamericana de Derechos Humanos en Costa Rica:

Hemos venido desde lejanas tierras de Sarayaku, del río de maíz. Nosotros somos desciendentes del jaguar, hijos de Amazanga Runa, hijos del pueblo del mediodia.

Esperamos que ustedes, nuestra comunidad virtual, disfrute como nosotros Hijos del Jaguar (ver => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ma1QSmtuiLQ).

Hasta la próxima semana!

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

From Kanehsatake to Elsipogtog: resistance and insistence

Aboriginal People’s Television Network reporter Ossie Michelin's iconic photo of Amanda Polchies in Elsipogtog, October 2013.

Aboriginal People’s Television Network reporter Ossie Michelin’s iconic photo of Amanda Polchies in Elsipogtog, October 2013

(LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO)

In Imperial Canada Inc (2012), Alain Deneault and William Sacher, professors at the University of Montreal and McGill University respectively, explain how Canada has emerged as a paradise for transnational mining companies due to five main factors. First, the permissiveness of the law toward the mining industry and its role in the Toronto Stock Exchange, which speculates mainly on the extraction of “natural resources”. Second, the complicity of Canadian banks; by creating tax havens in Caribbean branches, the profits of the industry never reach Canada but are multiplied in Antillean countries where the mining business has derisory taxes. Third, many Canadians unconsciously invest in mining, on the Toronto Stock Market, through their savings, investments and pension system. Fourth, the colonial imprint of the British Empire on Canadian history, which was built upon the expropriation of indigenous lands and mining in the Northwest Territories and in the Athabasca area. And, fifth, the complicity of the media, which refuses to talk openly about it.

            Recently, the Idle No More movement has reminded us that Canadian mining not only affects other countries but the ancestral lands of Turtle Island itself. Between May and October 2013, the Mikmak nation resisted the aggressive advance of the gas shell extraction projects (fracking) in Elsipogtog (New Brunswick). Civil disobedience, the songs of women, and the beat of drums called the attention of activists and independent journalists, and made the front pages of national newspaper. In an episode reminiscent of the Oka crisis of 1990—when the residents of Kanesahtake wanted to build a golf course on a traditional Mohawk cemetery—the Mikmak confronted the Texas Southwestern Energy Co. (or SWN, based in Houston), forcing the company to stop its project of tearing up the land and polluting the aquifer and deep water fields where moose and black bear have lived forever.

            According to the statistics of MiningWatch (http://www.miningwatch.ca/), 30% of Mexican territory, 40% of Colombian territory and 70% of Peruvian territory are now under mining concessions and under titles owned by companies such as Goldcorp, Barrick Gold, HudBay Minerals, Pacific Rim, Oceana Gold, Infinito Gold, Gold Marlin, Tahoe Resources. Companies that are, in turn, being sued for multiple human rights violations (Tahoe Resources in El Escobal, Guatemala, with cases of Angelica Choc and Cris Santos Perez and Lot 8 with HudBay Minerals, Guatemala, are some examples).

            To exacerbate the issue, some of these companies are now suing the nation-states of Mexico and El Salvador for huge sums of money because they have been unable to carry out their contracts. Today, the model that Canadian mining companies are exporting to the world, according to Jennifer Moore, director of MiningWatch Latin America, can be summarized in the following points: to change the policies of the host countries; to privatize their land; to create lower taxes and expand royalties for the mining sector; and to criminalize public protest.

            This week we recommend two videos on indigenous resistance and insistence: the first is the classic “Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance” by Alanis Obomsawin (1993) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7yP3srFvhKs; the second is “Elsipotog: The fire over water – Fault Lines” (2015), a journalistic documentary by Aljazeera on Mikmak resistance, the Idle No More movement, indigenous sovereignty, and the inconsistencies of the extractivism: https: // www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fleh95UWGo

            Until next week!

***

 

political-documentary-and-pov-8-638

 De Kanehsatake a Elsipogtog: resistencia e insistencia

            Esta semana queremos recomendarles dos videos sobre resistencia e insistencia indígena: el primero es el clásico “Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance” de Alanis Obomsawin (1993) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7yP3srFvhKs; el segundo es “Elsipotog: The fire over water – Fault Lines” (2015), un documental de Aljazeera sobre la resistencia en Nuevo Brunswick, el movimiento Idle No More, la soberanía indígena y las incosistencias del proyecto minero: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fleh95UWGo

            Hasta la próxima semana!

 

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

“These snowy peaks are like people”: Nunjwákala

f589a69b72171d56351a46ef91869345

LEA LA VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO

Today we begin a cycle of thirteen posts on the struggles and alternative methods of defending the water of the Abya-Yala and Turtle Island. They will be brief comments on images, words, and traditional ecological knowledge (TEK), shared by elders, writers and filmmakers who have tried to draw intercultural and trans-indigenous bridges. We hope you share your comments with us, and spread the word among friends and family.

Please do not hesitate to contact us if you would like to publish news related to water in your community!

***

In Documents for the History of Contemporary Colombian Indigenous Movement (Documentos para la historia del movimiento indígena colombiano contemporáneo, Enrique Sánchez Gutiérrez and Hernan Molina Echeverri 2010) the Mamas – the Arhuaco, Kogi, Wiwa and kankuamo spiritual authorities – describe Nunjwákala, the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta in the Kogi language, in terms of preservation and offering. The elder Vivencio Torres Marquez, in his letter from 1968 to the Minister Gregorio Hernandez de Alba, provides a brief description of the cosmology of his nation, in which the peaks and hills of the Sierra are grandparents, and the precious stones on the beach are medicine and mejoral (aspirin):

…So, then, we want to make you understand that these snowy peaks are like people, like us. They are our parents. But not only our fathers and mothers but also your fathers and your mothers. And those who are our Gods are also your Gods. They have entered the Sierra and they are surrounding all points. They have converted themselves into treasures, which have the figure of a similar image to us, for all eternity, it never ends.

But they didn’t enter the Sierra without institutionalizing all of our mothers and fathers, such as streams, rivers, creeks, ponds, lakes, wetlands and the humidity of all springs.

They also created all kinds of minerals to be kept in their heart. And they created the plants of all species, trees, pastures and they scattered them everywhere around the world. They also created all kinds of lianas and blankets made of fibers like maguey, comparable to our nerves and blood that runs through our veins and flows through our body…. (Sanchez and Molina 66)

Beyond the Western concept of “utility” and “production” of the land, the words of Torres are woven into the belief that the territory is the body, and its present state updates the laws of origin, which in turn protects the future.

Today, we would like to leave you with two documentaries impart the Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) of the Mamas. Both documentaries are examples of intercultural work. The Lost City (1989) and Aluna (2012) were led by journalist Alan Ereira who, since the late eighties, has walked with the kogui Mamas.

The Lost City | From the Heart of the World – The Elder Brother’s Warning (Alan Ereira 1989): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tq0kWs1q3hI

Aluna (Alan Ereira 2012): http://www.alunathemovie.com/ This documentary is also in Netflix.

We also recommend (if you have a chance to find them because they are not yet online) the documentaries by the Zhigoneshi Collective (Amado Villafaña / Saul Gil / Silvestre Gil) “Big words”, “Nabusimake. Memory of an independence”, “Yosokui”, ” Word of the Older Brothers”,” Water Guardians”, “Resistance in the black line”, and “Serayimaku, the other dark”; which are all independent projects by Kogi, Arhuaco, Wiwa and kankuamo filmmakers. Here the presentation at the National Museum of the American Indian: http://filmcatalog.nmai.si.edu/title/3605/ And an interview with the Mama Amado Villafaña in Paris: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEoY5AcN46Q

Until next week!

1b1da0ba277942dcc8015adb0032777b

Hoy comenzamos un ciclo de trece posts sobre luchas y alternativas para defender el agua del Abya-Yala y la Isla Tortuga. Son breves comentarios sobre imágenes, palabras, y pensamiento tradicional ecológico con los que mayores, escritores y realizadores de cine han querido trazar puentes interculturales y trans-indígenas. Esperamos que ustedes comenten sus impresiones, y compartan este material con sus amig@s y compañer@s de viaje.

Por favor, ¡no duden en contactarnos si quisieran publicar aquí noticias relacionadas con el agua en su comunidad!

***

“ESTOS PICOS NEVADOS SON COMO GENTE IGUAL A NOSOTROS”: NUNJWÁKALA

Hoy los dejamos con dos documentales que abordan el pensamiento tradicional ecológico (TEK) de los Mamas. Ambos son ejemplos de trabajo intercultural. La ciudad perdida (1989) y Aluna (2012) fueron conducidos por el periodista Alan Ereira, quien desde finales de los años ochenta ha estado caminado con los Mamas kogui.

La Ciudad Perdida (The Lost City) | From the Heart of the World – The Elder Brother’s Warning de Alan Ereira (1989): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tq0kWs1q3hI 

Aluna de Alan Ereira (2012): http://www.alunathemovie.com/  Este documental también está en Netflix.

Finalmente, les recomendamos también (si tienen oportunidad de conseguirlos, ya que todavía no están en línea) los documentales del Colectivo Zhigoneshi (Amado Villafaña/Saúl Gil/ Silvestre Gil) “Palabras mayores”, “Nabusimake. Memoria de una independencia”, “Yosokui”, “Palabra de mamos”, “Guardianes del agua”, “Resistencia en la línea negra” y “Serayimaku, la otra oscuridad”; todos proyectos independientes de realizadores de cine kogui, arhuaco, kankuamo y wiwa. Aquí la presentación en el National Museum of the American Indian: http://filmcatalog.nmai.si.edu/title/3605/ Y una entrevista al mama Amado Villafaña en París: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEoY5AcN46Q

¡Hasta la próxima semana!

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Jon M. Fox, Hiak Vatwe / Yaqui river / río Yaqui

Jon FoxJon M. Fox

Lee la versión en español abajo

When we were compiling the Indigenous Message on Water, we had the fortune via email to meet Jon M. Fox, Teguima/Yoemem poet, writer and elder, whose traditional territory is the Sonora desert in both sides of the USA/Mexico border. Jon’s ancestral family was involved in a long battle to protect the Yaqui River (Hiak Vatwe) and its surrounding lands, which the Mexican Government tried to expropriate during the period from 1874 to 1887. A history (“etehoim” or “tellings”) of the river’s state since those times is summarized by Jon in the following text:

The Yaqui people (Yoemem) have lived along the Sacred Yaqui River from time immemorial. Traditionally the Yoemem lived along the banks of the Yaqui River in small and dispersed settlements, that the Spanish called rancherías. After the Jesuit missionaries came into the region, the Yoemem moved from their widely dispersed encampments and settled in eight pueblos that then became part of Yoeme sacred geography. The pueblos are called, beginning from the region closest to the sea: Huirivis, Rahum, Potam, Belem, Vicam, Torim, Bacum, and Cocorit. All during this time, the Yaqui River continued its yearly cycles of seasonal flood and flow that made the region so fertile.

(…) After the Yoeme homeland had been occupied by the Mexican government in the late 1880s, Sonoran State Governor Rafael Izábel gave orders to begin rounding up and deporting Yoemem as slave labor to the henequen (agave) plantations in the Yucatan, and to farms in the Oaxaca. By 1890, with most of the Yoemem removed from the Yaqui River Valley, the Mexican government granted the Sonora and Sinaloa Irrigation Company, incorporated in New Jersey, land along the river with water rights, to begin the construction of canals for irrigating and growing crops. The Sonora and Sinaloa Irrigation Company soon went bankrupt, and the grant was purchased by the Richardson Construction Company of California in 1906. The Richardson Construction Company sold a 400 hectare block of land to developers from the United States and Europe, and received the exclusive right to 65 % of the Yaqui River’s water for a 99-year period.

The Richardson Construction Company was acquired by the Mexican government in 1927. In 1952, the Yaqui River’s flow was controlled by the newly-built Álvaro Obregón Dam, which eventually channeled the water into three major aqueducts to irrigate the commercial fields of the Lower Yaqui Valley. Since them, other dams have been placed on the river, further slowing and diverting the water. In the early nineties, another aqueduct was constructed to supply coastal communities with water, causing the water table in the Yaqui Valley to drop from one meter to 25 meters and withering the oak trees along the river. The most recent project under consideration is the Independence Aqueduct, which will draw 75 million cubic meters of water from the Yaqui River at a dam known as El Novillo. This is to supply water to Hermosillo, the capital of Sonora, where the population has grown 20 percent since 2000, to more than 700,000 people in 2013. The Yaqui still have rights to water and the land in the valley and have won a decision against the aqueduct after discovering documents saying that no group such as theirs existed in the area. The eventual result of the continued diversion will be that the water will disappear from the lower reaches of the Yaqui River.

Jon M. Fox (2012)

The historical clarity of this powerful testimony proposes an alternative version about the border, forced displacement, the concept of territory, and nation-states’ so-called “development” projects. Jon carries the voice of his ancestors with responsibility, and he draws attention to the politics of water from his own epistemology. In the Indigenous Message on Water, we can read about Jon on page 137:

An occasional writer of poetry and prose, Jon carries deeply in his heart the legacy and understanding of his ancestors, who came from present-day Sonora, Mexico. His position within his family, as an elder and bearer of traditional culture, is highly respected by all his relations. Jon continues to educate his relations in the Yoeme language and traditions that were nearly lost to them at the turn of the XXth century, understanding that this is important and unceasing work. This is done in order for them feel that they belong to some place, to some history, and also for them to stay connected to their heritage.

His verses are offerings for the sacred Yaqui River:

In memoriam, Great great grandfather José María Bonifacio Leiva Perez (Cajemé), Yoeme leader that led his people in protecting the Yaqui River (Hiak Vatwe) and traditional Yoemem lands from being expropriated by the Mexican government from 1874 to 1887.

Jose Maria Leiva - Cajeme - 1887José María Bonifacio Leiva Perez – Cajemé (1887)

Río del Yaqui

Yaqui River, giving people life.

Your dark Waters would bring

The crops of every spring,

Now, bitterly lost through strife.

Maize, squash, and beans were rife,

While the warm summer rains,

Falling like blood from the sky’s veins,

To your bountiful Water, added life.

Concrete and steel now slow

The soul of the Yaqui,

Water flows, strange fruit grow;

Waters stolen first by the Yankee,

Grow melon, tomato, and garbanzo,

While the peaceful heart of the Yaqui

Rests in the sunlight, morose.

Maria Salgado - c. 1894María Salgado, Cajeme’s wife (1894)

ʅʅ

Victoria Leyva - c. 1894Victoria Leiva, hija de Cajeme y María Salgado (1894)

Cuando estábamos compilando la antología Mensaje Indígena de Agua, tuvimos la fortuna de conocer virtualmente a Jon M. Fox, poeta, escritor y sabio Teguima/Yoemem, cuyo territorio tradicional es el desierto de Sonora de lado al lado de la frontera entre los EE.UU. y México. Jon se reconoce como heredero de una larga lucha por la tierra ancestral: su tatarabuelo, José María Bonifacio Leiva Pérez, fue un líder Yoemem que guió a su pueblo en la lucha por la protección del río Yaqui (Hiak Vatwe), el cual iba a ser expropiado por el gobierno mexicano entre 1874 y 1887. Una historia (etehoim – “narraciones”) del estado de río desde aquellos tiempos fue resumida por Jon en el siguiente texto:

La gente Yaqui (Yoemem) ha vivido a lo largo del sagrado río Yaqui desde tiempos inmemoriales. Tradicionalmente, los Yoemem vivieron a la orilla del Yaqui en asentamientos pequeños y dispersos, los cuales fueron llamados por los españoles rancherías. Después de que los misioneros jesuitas vinieran a la región, los Yoemem se desplazaron de sus amplios y dispersos campamentos para asentarse en ocho pueblos, los cuales, con el tiempo, llegaron a ser parte de su geografía sagrada. Comenzando por los más cercanos al mar, los pueblos se llaman así: Huirivis, Rahum, Potam, Belem, Vicam, Torim, Bacum y Cocorit. Durante este tiempo, el río Yaqui continuó sus ciclos anuales de temporadas de inundación y flujo, lo cual hace a la región tan fértil.

(…) Después de que la tierra madre fuera ocupada por el gobierno mexicano a finales de los 1880, el gobernador de Sonora, Rafael Izábel, dio órdenes para comenzar a deportar gente Yoemem para trabajar como esclavos en las plantaciones de henequen (agave) en el Yucatán, y en fincas de Oaxaca. En 1890, con la mayoría de los Yoemem desplazados del valle del río Yaqui, el gobierno mexicano le concedió el valle a la Compañía de Irrigación Sonora y Sinaloa, afincada en New Jersey, la cual llega al río con derechos sobre el agua para construir canales de irrigación y grandes monocultivos. En 1906, esa compañía entra en bancarrota, y los derechos son comprados por la Compañía de Construcción Richardson de California. Esta compañía vendió unas 400 hectáreas cuadradas de tierra a constructores de Estados Unidos y Europa, y recibió el derecho exclusivo al 65% del agua del río Yaqui por un periodo de 99 años.

La Compañía Construcción Richardson de California fue adquirida por el gobierno mexicano en 1927. En 1952, la corriente del río Yaqui fue controlada por la reciente construcción de la represa Álvaro Obregón, la cual canalizó el agua en tres grandes acueductos para irrigar los sembradíos comerciales del valle bajo el río. Desde entonces, otras represas han tenido lugar sobre el río, obstruyendo y diversificando su agua. A comienzos de los años 90, otro acueducto fue construido para ofrecer agua a comunidades costeras, ocasionando que el nivel del río bajara de un metro a 25 metros, marchitando los robles que crecían en su orilla. El proyecto más reciente bajo consideración es el Acueducto de la Independencia, el cual extraerá 75 millones de metros cúbicos de agua del río Yaqui para la represa conocida como El Novillo. Este es para ofrecer agua a Hermosillo, la capital de Sonora, donde la población ha crecido un 20% desde el año 2000, con más de 700.000 habitantes en el 2013. Los Yaqui todavía tienen derechos sobre el agua y la tierra en el valle, y han ganado el alegato contra el Acueducto, después de descubrir documentos en los que se afirma que no existe tal grupo Yaqui en el área. El posible resultado de este continuo desvío del Río será que el agua desaparezca.

Jon M. Fox (2012)

La claridad histórica de este testimonio propone otra versión de la frontera, los proyectos de “desarrollo” del estado-nación, el desplazamiento forzado y el concepto de territorio. Fox carga la voz de sus ancestros con responsabilidad y trae atención sobre las políticas del agua desde su propia tradición. En la página 137 del Mensaje Indígena de Agua, leemos sobre Jon M. Fox:

Poeta y escritor ocasional, Jon lleva profundamente en su corazón el legado y el entendimiento de sus ancestros, quienes migraron desde lo que es hoy Sonora (México) hasta los Estados Unidos. Su posición dentro de su familia es la de sabio y protector de la tradición. Desde allí, él continúa educando en su lengua nativa y acorde a sus costumbres Yoeme, las cuales estuvieron a punto de perderse a principios del siglo XX. Él sabe que es un trabajo en el que hay que perseverar y a través del cual toda la comunidad puede sentir que pertenece a un lugar y a una historia, y así conectarse a sus antepasados.

Sus versos son ofrenda para el sagrado río Yaqui:

En memoria del tatarabuelo José María Bonifacio Leiva Perez (Cajemé). Líder Yoeme que guió a su pueblo en la lucha por la protección del Río Yaqui (Hiak Vatwe) y de los territorios tradicionales, los cuales iban a ser expropiados por el gobierno mexicano entre 1874 y 1887.

Maria Luisa - c. 1914

Maria Luisa Godman (1914), abuela de Jon M. Fox, nieta de Cajeme.

Río del Yaqui

Río Yaqui, dando vida a tu pueblo.

Tus Aguas oscuras traían

Los cultivos de cada primavera.

Ahora, amargamente, perdidos por tanto conflicto.

Maíz, calabaza y frijoles en abundancia,

Mientras que las lluvias calientes de verano,

Caían como sangre de las venas del cielo,

Su mando vida al Agua copiosa.

Cemento y acero ahora ralentizan

El alma del Yaqui,

Corre el agua, crecen frutos extraños;

Aguas primero robadas por el Yankee,

Hacen crecer melón, tomate y garbanzo,

Mientras el corazón tranquilo del Yaqui

Descansa a la luz del sol, moroso.

Mary Louise - c. 1951Mary Louise (1951), hija de Maria Luisa Godman y Norte-Americano Stephen T. Chisam, bisnieta de Cajeme, madre de Jon M. Fox

~~~

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,