Sunday, June 13, 2010

After going back and forth about attending the South Central Farm event, “Farmchella,” I decided to go.  I returned at about 1am.  I spent the next two hours getting my things together for my journey.  “Gaskets” a term coined by a Slowrider member to describe the following … underwear and socks rolled up together and then tied with a rubber band to save space...brilliant idea.  Plane is leaves at 7am.  A friend, whom was kind enough to take me to the airport , asked for a wake up call at 4am.  Let’s see…arrived at 1am, got things ready in about an hour and a half leaves about an hour and a half for sleep.  I cheated.  I woke up at 4:05am.  Those 5 minutes felt like an additional hour.  I feel good.  Arrive at the airport.  Damn, I forgot my passport.  I can’t board on the plane.  Things are looking bad! The worst feeling.  Options:  Pay more money for another flight!  This flight departs the following day in the evening.  This means that I will have an overnight layover in Miami and more time in L.A.  That’s my only option so I do that!  The homie Oscar brings my Passport.  Damn homie, I owe you big.  For now, breakfast is on me.  Back at the spot in Baldwin Park. More time to kick it with Tokal.  I have time for haircut so I go with the knuckleheads and get warrior’ed up.  Finally, time to go back to the damn airport. There. I’m here. Now, time to board.

I arrived in Miami at around 11pm.  The homie Oscar picked me.  These “Oscars” are good people.  We stopped by a Nicaraguan Spot to get some food.  Bomb! Pedazotes de carne, frijoles, arroz y platano maduro.  Bomb!  We talked a bit about the politics there in Miami. You bring up a good question Oscar.  Since raza is mixed, what qualifies us as people of color?  Miami’s majority of Cuban@s are light skinned.  The brother shared that they get access to two types of resources.  The first is the support to Latin@s in the U.S. i.e. scholarships, etc.  The other resource is the white privilege.  These Cuban@s enjoy the color of their skin when compared to morenos (Cubanos, Nicaraguense, Haitians, Mexicanos, etc).  Interesting analysis. 

Too late to study;  too early to go to sleep.  I hear the Atlantic is warm this time of year.  F it let’s roll.  By pass Babilonia called “South Beach.”  There are too many kids out here.  What up with that?  Oh! They’re on vacation and the grown-ups are sleeping…they need to go to work.  So, something or someone needs to keep the economy going in South Beach since visitors like myself don’t stop at places like “Mangos.” I’m with a compa and she’s tripping on the amount of kids also.  Bypass, the bullshit. I have no desire to sit an analyze.  Let me indulge in the Creation of the Creator and not of man.  The more I hear the ocean the less I hear pop music.  The more I see dark water the less I see bright lights.  A few more steps East and I have been on both sides of this nation.  Finally, Into the water I go.  I am relaxed, stubborn waves flush me ashore.  I use my arm as an anchor and sit on the shallow salty waters of the Atlantic.  Tilt my head up enjoy natural lighting and re-energize myself for what’s to come…including walking though this Devil’s playground called South Beach.

Monday, June 14, 2010

I sleep in.  I wake up. I read the Declaration of Quito Ecuador (1990).  I read emails and respond to them.  Delegation to Chiapas is nearing.  I send out a reminder and look forward to the responses.  What will my participation be in Quito?  I prepare questions I would like to ask the elders? Prep them, review them, and now what?   Chill!  Yea, let’s do that!  Lay back and watch the World Cup.  Paraguay is on point. Damn, the homie has a sick keyboard!  Nah, chill foo!  Aight … NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Either the airline gave me the wrong information or I have the wrong boarding pass for Quito.  I thought it was at 7:40?  This says 4:40.  Damn!  Hit up Oscar, I say peace!  He sends calls a taxi and make it to the airport in time to be scolded on my traveling etiquette.  Technically sir, I am 3 hours early.  As far as I’m concerned my flight is at 7:40.  And it is.  Now I’m here on the plane writing this. 

Arrived in Quito, Ecuador at about 12am.  Flight delayed.  It’s all good, I’m here now and I’m just thinking of where I need to go.  A bit worried, I spent the entire day prior to the flights calling the numbers that would help me facilitate my arrival.  No response.  I arrive in Quito, no real direction as to where to go.  It’s okay, I’ve been in this situation before.  I grab a taxi, try the office of the coordinating body and no response.  Then, I try different places, and one hour and $30 later, I arrive to my destination.  Finally!  No I can go to sleep.  Not quite.  The “velador” doesn’t know of the group I’m speaking about.  The space we are having the encuentro is a few acres big and there are many groups here.  Walk in the dark.  It’s okay, I’ve been here before.  I see a 7^th Generation staff member, Moe.  Glad to see him…for various reasons.  I sit with him and talk as he finalizes some work (he has the task of documenting the entire encuentro…poor guy).  Walking to our cabin happy to finally get to bed.  “Shit” says Moe.  I ask the obvious.  “The fkn door’s locked.”  Looked for rocks and found nothing.  Sleeping bag in my hand I tossed it up to the second floor window that creates a large “thump.”  Surely something will wake up.  Nothing.  Apparently, everyone is dead asleep after an intense night of “charades.”  Walk back to the media room and alas…I run into one of the organizers.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

“Good morning!” Ready for the various speculations?  “What happen, are you okay?”  “We thought they didn’t let you on board cause of passport issues.”  “We thought they didn’t let you on board cause you were on a no flight list.” “We thought you were victim of a rendition.” “We thought you changed your mind about coming.” So on and so forth.  Where’s Carlos?  Oh there he is. Smile on his face.  I can tell that he’s thought about what to say once he saw me.  After sometime explaining, but more importantly, greeting and enjoying my re-encounter with the folks  we went to the sessions.

Noche de Cultura.  I remember a few experiences.  SFA was big on this during their encuentros.  I used to attend those encuentros to share palabra, to chill with the CIW members and share my music.  Not all encuentros were dope like these.  I remember, noche de cultura once in Zapatista territory. After sharing my music, there was silence from the community.  They didn’t appreciate my sharing music without explaining what it was about and how it was supporting our struggles.  They simply saw the youngsters respond to it in a positive way and saw it as delineation from traditional customs.  Traumatized by the last experience, I was hesitant to share let alone bring out the merchandise.  After some encouragement from 7^th Gen and Tonatierra, I went ahead and did both.  Carlos was on some, “come on foo, but the merch out!”  It was an amazing experience. Las senoras cantaron, “que se vayan al carajo!” and the youngsters were feeling it.  Check out the pictures.

THE ENCUENTRO:

One of the most interesting things for me when traveling is the vegetation, landscape and animalitos. Check out these Lamas.

El Maguey y el Pueblo of La Merced

The Space that is hosting our encuentro! This is 1/8 of it.

The Encuentro is under way.  Our session is Plurinationality, Interculturalism, Auto-Governance and Democracy

Carlos Garcia, Arthur Manuel, Tupac, Tia Oros and myself are part of this discussion.  26 minute individual intervention; it's not hard to understand why this space was both nurturing in content but a struggle in attention span.

Las semillas from Ecuador present Song and Dance!

First I spoke on the motives behind the music.  I explained that our efforts in L.A. are to spark up rebellion by first reaching out to the youngsters and then speaking to them about their reality and who they are...

Different Nations gather around for the Cultural Event!

I did Batalla acapella and Al Carajo with the music. 7th Generation folx stepped in to help me sell merch, while I signed autographs (fo' real) and explained the corn grenade.  What a relief, I thought they were going to send "two shoes sent flying through the air." Instead...

The youngsters felt the music and the Senoras sang "Que Se Vayan Al Carajo.!"

 The Day after the event we had our plenary meetings were our conversations and ideas from the day after were to be solidified.  We stood in our groups and talked about alternative ways of strenghtening our economies and cultura and values...

By far one of the strongest presence at the Encuentro. A no BS muxer that spoke about alternative economic ideas.