It is a great last evening. Capturing so much of the experience of being here.
We start off visiting a friend's house to see her two new grandchildren, both born in the short time I have been in Oaxaca. The women admire the little ones, take photos, wonder at how much they've grown already. The babies sleep, cry, feed, burp milk onto my skirt.
We stop off en route to the town centre to drop some keys with a forgetful teenager. She works at the large shopping mall near where I live. It is packed with shoppers this weekend shortly before Xmas, driving slowly past this most Americanized of zones, Macdonalds, KFC, Burger King, looking for somewhere to park.
We head into town and this is the first time some of my friends have been across this junction in months. It was a key battle ground and one of the last bastions of the APPO. Now it is only blocked with traffic.
When we get to the centre there are barriers back across the main streets leading into the zocalo. Wire barriers, lines of police, ambulances, fire engines. There are rumours of trouble today and tomorrow. Threats from the APPO that they will stop the Christmas festival "the night of the radishes". A last throw of the dice perhaps. Most people think it will come to nothing. The protest seems muted - not least as most of their leaders are in prison. The teachers have turned their back on them. But still, the police are taking no chances.
And our last evening together is, fittingly, in the zocalo. I guess the town square is still quieter than it would be on a normal December evening. There are still riot police wandering about the square. But tonight, for the first time, it feels like the place it is meant to be. Men are putting up the stages to display the radish artworks for tomorrow's festival. Small children play on the staging, running freely, laughing happily until well past midnight. It is warm enough to sit outside. The pavement cafes are thronged with people. There are not too many tourists here and it is a night for Oaxacans to greet Oaxacans. Businessmen, politicians, public figures, their wives and lovers are pointed out to me. Everyone greets and waves. My friends smile with satisfaction and pleasure. This is the first time in six months they have been free to sit here and take a quiet evening drink. It is hard to convey how much this means to them.
And they are proud and happy to be able to share this moment with me before I leave. I am treated to a lethal tequila cocktail, coffee, cheese laden tacos, pizza with chilli sauce. They breathe in their new found liberty. We make a toast. What else could it be?
"To freedom. And peace in Oaxaca"
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Posted by: オテモヤン | March 29, 2010 at 06:37 AM