“Some other ways the Zapatistas differently developed, if you may be wondering, are lowering the rate of alcoholism to zero, protecting the environment, getting rid of unemployment, begging, and prostitution during their one-year governance of the Southeastern mountains of Mexico, all through referendums and plebiscites. ” — if we try our misfortunes can be lessened.
In Subcommandante Marcos’ words, I see a different Mexico, a subterranean Mexico that’s not part of the transnational treaties or the daily news, a Mexico where commandante Ramona “laughs when she does not know she is dying. And when she knows, she still laughs. Before she did not exist for anyone; now she exists, as a woman, as an indigenous woman, as a rebel woman. Now Ramona lives, a woman belonging to that race that must die in order to live…”
With Marcos I begin to vibrate: “Everything for everyone, nothing for ourselves.”
I share with him my vision of a tomorrow “made with the women, and above all, by them…”
How am I to introduce the race of humans Marcos belongs to? Perhaps as this: “we, the ones without a face and name who call ourselves the “professionals of hope,” the not mortal of all, the “transgressors of injustice,”…
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