environment Archive

Mexico City to Huicholes: “You are not alone”

Mexico City to Huicholes: “You are not alone”

By Tracy L. Barnett
for The Esperanza Project

MEXICO CITY – Led by a vanguard of more than 250 Wixarika elders, women, men and children in their colorful traditional dress, a colorful river of marchers filled the grand Reforma Avenue of Mexico City for four hours yesterday, ending at the residence of President Felipe Calderón.

“You are not alone! You are not alone!” chanted the marchers, some of whom had formed a protective human chain encircling the indigenous representatives as they prepared to deliver their petition to the nation’s highest authority: Save Wirikuta, the Sacred Heart of Mexico.

It was the culmination of two days of events designed to draw attention to mining and agroindustrial projects that threaten the cultural survival of one of the world’s best-preserved living pre-Hispanic cultures: the Wixarika people, better known by the Spanish name of Huicholes. Two massive mining projects have been proposed for the Wixarika’s most sacred site, and a plague of industrial tomato growers have razed thousands of hectares of fragile desert habitat in the UNESCO-recognized, state-protected Wirikuta Ecological and Cultural Reserve.

Traditional authorities from each of the eight communities represented by the march were allowed to enter the presidential complex, heavily guarded by federal police in riot gear, in order to present a letter to authorities. It was the third such letter asking Calderon to rescind the 22 concessions granted to the Canadian transnational First Majestic Silver Corp. Until now, there has been no response. The hope was that with so many eyes upon the delegation’s demands, this time would be different. Presidential representatives promised an answer within a week.

Felipe! entiende! Wirikuta no se vende – (Felipe [Calderon], Understand! Wirikuta is not for sale),” chanted the crowd as they approached the Mexican counterpart to the White House. Plumes of smoke rose into the air from the copal burning in ceremonial censors along with chants of “Wirikuta no se vende! Se ama y se defiende! (Wirikuta is not to sell; it is to love and defend).”



Participants made their way to the front of the crowd to affix their colorful Huichol Eyes of God to the gates of the presidential complex, as feather-headdressed Aztec dancers beat a rhythm to the chants with their drums and ayoyotes, and members of the Triqui tribes, Red Road and other indigenous groups and dozens of environmental and human rights groups joined the throng with banners. The marchers made it clear that the site is sacred not only to the Wixarika but to other indigenous groups and to thousands of non-indigenous Mexicans and internationals who believe the Mountains of Catorce and the desert at their feet is one of the most important spiritual centers in the world.

Events began on Wednesday with a press conference in which intellectuals, artists and other leaders in the civil society expressed their support for the mobilization and the Wixarika delegation. Actor Daniel Giménez Cacho thanked the delgates, saying “they are teaching us to defend our house and what is ours.” In previous days, Giménez Cacho was one of dozens of Mexican actors and film personalities who signed a letter in support of the mobilization, including Gael Garcia Bernal. Top musical stars like Manu Chao and Aterciopelados have promised support, and last week, Ruben Albarran of Café Tacuba, Roco and Moyenei from Sonidero Meztizo and other artists held a press conference for Wirikuta. Roco and Moyenei accompanied the entire processon on a double-decker bus-turned-sound system, alternately broadcasting music and calls of encouragement to the crowd; at one point a pair of traditional Wixarika fiddlers played their haunting music to cheers from the crowd. The entire event culminated in a high-energy concert at the Museum of Anthropology, led by Roco and Moyenei.

The delegation was received at the National Autonomous University of Mexico and the National School of Anthropology and History with open arms, food and one of two concerts sponsored by Sonidero Meztizo.

After the press conference, the multihued band loaded onto buses for a pilgrimage to the Basilica and to the Hill of Tepeyac, where the indigenous Juan Diego is believed to have seen the Virgin of Guadalupe. Perhaps more importantly to the Wixarika, it’s the ancestral temple site for Tonantzin, the powerful pre-Hispanic Earth goddess.

Another part of the delegation went to meet with officials at SEMARNAT, the federal environmental agency, to outline their concerns. And yet another group went off to do interviews with the national media.

But the spiritual high point of the two-day affair came on Thursday morning, when the Wixarika streamed into the park containing the Pyramid of Cuicuilco, the first important civic-religious center of the Mexican Highlands and a sacred site for the Wixarika. They made their way through the park to the foot of the pyramid, where there is a simple altar where the Huichol people leave their offerings. There at the foot of the pyramid, traditional musicians began to play their fiddles, and one by one, the marakames blessed each of the participants with their feathered muwiere. Time seemed to stand still as each person filed in to take their turn in front of the tiny house constructed to shelter their offerings.

“Today we lighted the candles of life and left our offerings for all life on Earth,” explained Wixarika traditional leader Santos de la Cruz in a reception at the neighboring School of Anthropology and History, the same site that welcomed the Zapatistas in their many sojourns from Chiapas more than a decade ago. “We pray not only for the protection of our heart, our veins, our life, which is Wirikuta, but for the other sacred sites in the world which are threatened, and this threat menaces all of life on the planet.”

For more information about the campaign to save Wirikuta, see www.frenteendefensadewirikuta.org.

Images from the October 26-27 mobilization Save Wirikuta: The Sacred Heart of Mexcio:


Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Organic Nicaragua: On the road with Común Tierra

Organic Nicaragua: On the road with Común Tierra

By Ryan Luckey and Leticia Rigatti
Común Tierra

We entered Costa Rica about two weeks ago and have kept busy with various activities including many seed exchanges, events and visits to various projects. But all that will come in the next post …

This post is to share a little from the month we spent in Nicaragua, where we found really nice people and visited some interesting projects.

Nicaragua is a beautiful country with extensive coastline on both the Pacific and the Caribbean, many lakes and volcanoes. It’s a country that historically faced a strong dictatorship and had to fight a brutal civil war to end the dictatorship through the revolutionary Sandinista movement. Over the years the country has tried to recover, but poverty remains widespread, and Nicaragua today is the second poorest country in the continent, surpassed only by Haiti.


Even with a grave economic situation and violent history, we found Nicaragua’s population really open and friendly, with clear and strong political opinions and self-esteem. This year is an election year, and we saw many young people marching through the streets and holding political events and demonstrations. Lots of energy in the country …

We found this political rally in Nandaime, Nicaragua

During our visit, we visited three sustainability projects. Two on Ometepe Island, an island formed by two volcanoes in the middle of stunning Lake Nicaragua, the largest tropical lake in the world.

Ometepe

Panoramic view of the Island

On Omatepe we visited the Project Inan Itah, a spiritual development center with various permaculture practices and a volunteer program. While visiting for a few days we actively participated in community activities and became great friends in this beautiful project.

Another interesting project is the ecological hostel El Zopilote, which was designed using permaculture principles. The hostel’s natural buildings and organic food production make for a cool food-forest jungle experience, and is a center for backpackers to a have a relaxed and more conscious visit to the island.

During our visit to El Zopilote we had an exciting moment with their bees. On the farm they have a cross between Italian bees (very quiet, friendly) and African bees (aggressive, hardy). That is, the bees are warriors, but not brutal. We were talking to Danielle who takes care of the bees, real close to the boxes, taking pictures and talking… and suddenly we realized that the bees started flying at us! There were so many! And then someone says RUUUUUUUN!! And we run down the ravine, up the hill, around the bend, and away…. It was crazy to have that ringing in the ears, unable to look back and have to keep running! Ryan got bitten twice including once on his lip, and Danielle about 8 times. In the end we learned that we can not abuse the bees patience and we should better respect the space of our dear friends the bees who make such rich food for us, and yet struggle to survive in the jungle.


The bees, calm, as we began to observe…


Here the bees are started to get agitated…

We also participated in a community event in the town of Santa Cruz on Omatepe, where we played music and shared a little about Común Tierra…

The organizers offered some free organic seeds for the local people, and some resources on how to grow organically, natural medicine, etc…

On Nicaragua’s Pacific coast we visited Finca Las Nubes, a place where residents are trying to build a totally self-suffcient ranch and community, using various integrated practices, with the hopes of leaving a legacy for future generations.

For more photos, visit our Facebook album.

For now we say goodbye as we head out to organize our seeds… we will be trading and offering seeds tomorrow in the Feria Verde (organic market) in San Jose, capital city of Costa Rica.

A BIG HUG and we hope to see you soon!

Leti and Ryan

Losing mangrove forests in El Salvador to climate change

Losing mangrove forests in El Salvador to climate change

by Ryan Luckey
Comuntierra

This article was originally published by Al-Jazeera and can be accessed HERE.

With disastrous volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and extreme storms, El Salvador is widely regarded as one of the world’s most vulnerable countries to natural disasters. With the impacts of climate change complicating social and economic crises, the El Salvadorian government has recognized that national security considerations must include discussion of environmental factors, leading to the Minister of the Environment Herman Chavez to proclaim Climate Change as ‘our number 1 priority’ in February 2011. However, as Salvadorians well know, when it comes to natural disasters, some things are simply out of their control. The demise of the countries Mangrove Forests is one of these cases.

El Salvador’s Pacific Mangrove forest, the largest of its kind in Central America, covers over 20,000 hectares in and around the Jiquilisco Bay. Mangroves are traditionally considered to be a natural protection from extreme flooding and rising tides, acting as an invaluable buffer zone during extreme weather events.
Several years ago, however, local communities began noticing a strange phenomenon; the Mangroves at the edge of the ocean were dying.

A Threatened Ecosystem

The Mangrove forest is a unique ecosystem found in tropical and sub-tropical coastal regions in the Americas, Middle East, Asia and Oceania. Characterized by the mixing of fresh water and salt water, the Mangrove creates specific conditions that support a wide variety of flora and fauna.

The trees have a series of stilt-like supports that extend from the trunk for increased stability and resilience. The Mangrove trees have evolved to be able to withstand change in water level caused by normally occurring tidal cycles and mild flooding, helping protect coastal areas from damage from extreme storms and tsunamis. In
recent years, however, a rise in sea level has brought the ocean waves intruding further inland than ever before, wreaking havoc on the trees and the entire ecosystem.

According to Dr. Ricardo Navarro, director of the Center for Appropriate Technologies in El Salvador (CESTA), over 30 meters of Mangrove forest has been completely destroyed by this phenomenon in the last 6 years. “With the increase in global sea level, the ocean waves are entering further and further into the Mangroves. What happens is the waves wash away the soil nutrients, leaving the trees in pure sand. So the trees die, and then all of the animals leave the area.”

All along the central coast of El Salvador there is a dead zone stretching along the beach, measuring between 10 and 50 meters. The cause? Climate Change, says Dr. Navarro.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change reported that global sea level rose 21 centimeters in the last century. This rise is reportedly caused by a combination of glacial melting, melting of the polar caps, and the physical expansion of the oceans with a rise in water temperature, all claimed to be consequences from global warming caused by human activity.

When asked how far the tide has come in, local fisherman Adan Nahun Diaz Ramirez pointed out into the sea, past the breaking waves. “The forest extended past all of this, you can see,” he said, pointing to Mangrove stumps underneath the crashing waves. “Actually, beyond the Mangroves, there was a layer of other trees on the beach.”

With no soil structure and no life left, the newly exposed land has no protection from the ocean, which over time is encroaching further inland. Locals estimate that at least 50 meters of land has been lost to the ocean in the last ten years.

Effects on Local Communities

La Tirana is a small village of 23 families at the edge of the Mangrove. The village was populated through most of the 20th century, but abandoned during El Salvador’s civil war, when most rural areas of the country were abandoned. The town came back to life 10 years ago, when new residents moved in.

CESTA has been working in La Tirana since 2005 to develop a program called “Sustainable Ways of Life.” The program has provided the community an environmental education program, technical assistance for organic agriculture, installed water wells, and several solar panels to bring electricity to the village for the first time. The program also facilitated the creation of a vision for the villages’ ecological and economic sustainability.

“Now we have a plan for sustainable harvesting of the Punche, which limits our harvest to 5-7 dozen per day,” Ramirez told me. “But there are days when we can’t even find 1 dozen.”

Like many other rural communities, harvesting the ‘Punche,’ a local species of Mangrove Crab, is the only source of income. “The Earth here is not easy to cultivate, because its just sand, so we depend on the Mangrove,” Ramirez said. “In the last few years, it’s been increasingly difficult to hunt the Punche, and we have no other way to support our community.”

Effects on Wildlife

Just a few kilometers from La Tirana, in the mouth of the Lempa river, surrounded by Mangroves, there used to be a sand island.

The year-round island was observed to be the seasonal home to a colony of American Skimmer birds, the only habitat of its kind observed in Central America. With the rising tide, the island has almost disappeared, now only appearing during low tide. Without a safe place to rest, the Skimmer hasn’t been seen in the area in several years.

“This is clearly an effect of global Climate Change,” claims Dr. Navarro. “And the worst part of it is that there’s nothing we can do to protect these Mangroves and these species of fauna. We as a global community have to take action to stop global warming. The international agreements being discussed today would still allow an increase of up to 5 degrees centigrade through the end of this century. This degree of change would have disastrous effects around the world. What we are seeing here is only the beginning.”

Climate Refugees

Throughout the 70’s and 80’s, waves of Salvadorian refugees fled the country’s violent civil war. In the last decades, immigration has continued, as citizens look to escape extreme poverty and a series of natural disasters, including magnitude 7.7 and 6.7 earthquakes in 2001, and Tropical Storm Agatha in 2010. Extreme storms are becoming more common and more intense, leading to extreme flooding throughout the country and particularly in the Central coast area.

“If things keep going like this, the next wave of immigrants from El Salvador will be Climate Refugees,” says Dr. Navarro.

International organizations ranging from the IPCC to UNESCO are estimating that between 10 and 50 million refugees will flee their homes in the first half of the 21st century because of climate change related disasters.
Community members of La Tirana all agree that things are getting worse each year, and the ocean moving inland faster. If this continues, they may join the millions of refugees fleeing the effects of climate change, and El Salvador’s environmental and social condition will get a little more complicated.

Esquire Latin America: Huicholes prepare for battle

Esquire Latin America: Huicholes prepare for battle

Esquire Latinoamerica, August 2011
Text and Photos by Tracy L. Barnett

For the Huicholes, the region known as Wirikuta, in North-Central Mexico, is sacred; for a Canadian company it is the base of its next great mining project. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of the village of Real de Catorce, at the heart of Wirikuta, are divided among those who need jobs and those who see the mine as a threat. The debate grows with every day and has reached as far as Canada and the United Nations.

To see the entire article (in Spanish), download here: PDF Huicholes

Permacyclists kick off Journey #2: Latin America

Permacyclists kick off Journey #2: Latin America

Meet Dave and Anna, the Permacyclists.

She was a corporate lawyer from Brussels; he was a sociologist from New York. Neither of them was happy with their chosen profession, and after a great deal of soul searching, they decided to do what many dream of but few actually do: They quit their jobs, studied permaculture, bought bicycles and headed off across Africa, pedaling and working their way through 12 countries, 12,000 kilometers and 16 months from organic farm to organic farm, sharing what they’d learned along the way.

Now they’ve landed in Mexico and are launching a Phase 2 of their journey, but with a difference. This time they’re bringing a video camera and sound equipment, and documenting the stories of people working on solutions to the many environmental problems they have learned about in their travels. Their goal is to make it to the Earth Summit in Rio in June 2012. And this time they’re going by bus, instead of bike, to give them time to do reporting, writing and producing for their blog.

I was inspired by their story and by their plan, since in some ways it parallels my own – so we got together and shared stories. Here’s a little bit of theirs.

The cheery young couple quickly turn sober when they contemplate the ravaged landscape they encountered in Africa – not because of war and famine, the typical scenarios associated with Africa, but because of severe environmental degradation. Soil erosion, deforestation, desertification, invasive species taking over and killing out what’s left of the local ecosystems. “We were biking through all those problems for 16 months,” said Annabelle. “And yes, we have seen some amazing tropical forests, but you could be sure as soon as you left that little national park you would see not a single tree.”

Climate change was a big topic of conversation wherever they went: New York, Belgium, all throughout Africa, and now in Mexico. In Mozambique, they biked along a coast through miles and miles of former rice fields ruined by the saltwater that had flooded them during a tsunami. At Mount Kilimanjaro, they compared historic photos of the ice-capped mountain with its dwindling patch of white.

“How can we deny climate change is happening? People are talking about it everywhere,” said Anna. “They talk about how the rainy season hasn’t come and how its really weird because it’s too wet but not at the right time, and how things have changed.

“But people are acting on this, and that’s the good news.”

That’s how their project evolved to focus on sustainability efforts throughout the continent.

“I find myself much happier when I’m working with people who are working on solutions, rather than those who are saying we are all going to die,” said Annabelle. “To keep saying we’re going to die is not helping, it’s not moving people to action.”

Their families were not happy about their decision to take off across Africa on their bikes. Both mothers, independently of each other, notified them that when they were kidnapped – “not if, but when” – they would not be responsible for the ransom, Dave said. “They took a picture that was a profile of the ear so they could identify us when they found the corpse,” he laughs when he recalls the moment.

And then there was the reaction to Annabelle’s decision to leave her career as a successful lawyer. “It was like: You studied for six years and you have a practice and you’re going to throw it away for what? to go biking?”

There were some actual dangers – they were mock-chargd by a gorilla in Uganda and a hippo in Botswana. “Believe me, when you have that thing of 1.5 tons running toward you in the water, where it’s strongest, and you’e in a little plastic boat…. it’s quite humbling,” Anna recalls.

But the dangers were not at all what the family and friends were worried about. “The image of Africa in the West is just not fair and it’s racist in a lot of ways,” said Dave. Of course, he added, most Westerners haven’t been there, except for a handful who go on safaris, and given the conditions reported by most of the media coverage, it’s a pretty scary place. But the Permacyclists found Africa to be filled with people who were kind, caring and generous.

In Nairobi, he recalled – which has earned the moniker “Nairobbery” – the pair kept a low profile. “We were totally intimidated. We didn’t take a chance, didn’t try to meet local people.” On the last day, nervous at the prospect that they’d have to cross the scary shantytown area, they were surprised to see all the people smiling and waving as they cycled by.

“That same day we met a great guy who ran three kilometers across an open field to tell us we were going the wrong way,” he said. “People were looking out for us, and we didn’t even realize.”

Finally, after many months and many miles, the family came around.

“They saw that we were happy,” said Annabelle.

“And that we didn’t die,” said Dave.

“Let’s face it – some of it’s luck,” said Anna. “Bad things happen – I was a criminal lawyer, so I know. You can get robbed, but you can get robbed in Brussels, too, or New York. So let’s stop being scared. Let’s throw the TV out the window, and let’s get out and meet people. That’s where it’s happening.”

The pair’s second tour of duty started with a three-week natural building class in North Carolina. From there they headed to Houston, where they ran into the folks from Transition Houston, a dynamic part of the Transition Towns movement – who put them in touch with me. Their first video project was about that group and its projects. Here it is.

#1 Transition Houston from Permacyclists on Vimeo.

So far, they say, they’ve been blessed with enthusiastic support everywhere they’ve gone.

“It’s like we’ve stumbled across this underground world of people who are doing amazing things, and now here we are in Guadalajara and we have six interviews lined up and a place to sleep,” said Dave.

To Anna, that response serves to underscore a valuable lesson that their journeys have taught them.

“You know you’re nothing alone – but together, we’re something quite powerful. It’s about the power of groups, the power of community – you’re not alone in this world. Get out and do something, talk to people. It’s really magical.”

Follow the Permacyclists on their blog and on Facebook and Twitter. And check out the trailer for their upcoming movie!

Urgent letter from the Wixarika People to the President of Mexico and to all the Peoples and Governments of the World

Urgent letter from the Wixarika People to the President of Mexico and to all the Peoples and Governments of the World

(photos courtesy of omananda.com)

To the President of the United States of Mexico Felipe Calderón Hinojosa
To the People and Governments of the World

PRESENT

We come personally from the Western Sierra Madre to deliver this urgent letter to demand that you keep your word that you publicly announced when you committed to respect and protect our sacred places in the pact of Hauxa Manaká in 2008 and to do so according to the fundamental laws of our country and the agreements, decrees, pacts and national and international conventions that the Mexican State has subscribed to guarantee the respect of our living and millennial culture.

We are a commission of agrarian and traditional authorities from the Wixárika People, who together form the Regional Wixarika Council in Defense of Wirikuta, and we bring the word that unites the sentiment of the councils of elders, of the wise chanters, of the pilgrimage groups entrusted with sustaining the arduous work of more than 500 community ceremonial centers and family ranches; we bring the word that together is one united decisive expression of the feelings of the families of all the communities in Jalisco, Nayarit, Durango and Zacatecas where the Wixaritari live and we want you to respond respecting our rights according to your commitment.

The Federal Government of our country granted 22 concessions that span more than 6,000 hectares in the Sierra of Catorce to the mining company First Majestic Silver Corp. and Real de Bonanza, S.A. de C.V. But the Sierra of Catorce and the whole of Wirikuta, Mr. President, is one of the altars of major importance where our pilgrims balance fertility and the equilibrium of the world for all its creatures and we have evidence that the mining operation would affect in a deep way the ecology, contaminating the zone and drying out our sacred springs.

In these times of extreme violence in our country, which are destroying our social fabric, with this megaproject you are kidnapping and want to assassinate our mother, The Earth, which you have threatened, and seek the forced disappearance of an entire people, the Wixarika People.

For this reason we demand that you immediately cancel these concessions and any others that have as their goal the extraction of minerals or the destruction of Wirikuta in any other way because if the object of all of this tragedy is money, with conviction we inform you that it will be infinitely cheaper to cancel these concessions than to lament the ecological, spiritual and social tragedy that digging and extracting the entrails of Wirikuta could provoke.

Wirikuta is the heart of our essence. If it ends, we die as a people. We have been making pilgrimages to Wirikuta for thousands of years and we know the Ancestors who live in each hill, each stony glade, each rocky crag, and each flower by their names and we have for that reason, according to international standards, the right of traditional, ancestral possession. We respect nevertheless, the communities and farmers who live in the area and we pray also that they may sow and reap their food, so that they may live well, care for and be protected by this sacred land whose vocation is not mining but the enlightenment and renovation of the heart of the world.

We see with much concern that despite the aforementioned Pact of Hauxa Manaká and despite the public opposition of our people to the mining operation in Wirikuta, you have maintained an inexplicable silence in the face of our demand, while our territorial rights have been violated, similarly our previous, free and informed consent, in addition carrying out this mining project will violate the environmental laws of our country, because the area is a Natural Protected Area by governmental decree with its management plan.
The fundamentals of our claim are in the first terms of Convention 169 of the International Labor Organization, in its articles 2, 6, 7, 14 and 15; likewise, in Article 2 section b subsection IX, article 27 section VII, second paragraph of the Political Constitution of the United States of Mexico and its related laws.
It worries us even more, that some members of the federal government and the mining company itself are trying to convince us to accept the mine in exchange for granting us one of the sacred places from part of the expanse of Wirikuta, the Cerro Quemado o Raunaxi.

We have already explained that the Sierra of Catorce is a whole unit, where the spiritual energy and power of our ancestors, who allow us to live our lives now and in the future, resides between the lowlands and the highest peaks of the mountains and throughout its interior, and it coincides best with the area of more than 144,000 hectares of the natural protected region. We will not accept for any reason that this type of activity be developed in the area as it is too great an affront for our people, for Mexico and for all of humanity, besides the obvious illegalities that these concessions represent.

Mr. President, we are the original people of this country, we are the ancient root and we reiterate, don’t destroy our Wixárika culture, don’t destroy yourselves for the ignorance of not knowing what these valleys of Wirikuta contain, and the mountains which illuminate the world.

For this reason our commission comes all the way here to deliver this written statement to you. We bring you our urgent word in a timely fashion. We are chanting pilgrims, cultivators; we are the legitimate authorities of our people of corn, deer and sun. We are Mexicans and we dress ourselves with flowers because we chant of peace.

Cancel the mine in Wirikuta, raise to the federal level the environmental and cultural protection and all of our descendents will thank you, otherwise the present generations will walk a difficult but firm path in the conviction of detaining this threat, we await your formal answer in your capacity of the Chief Federal Executive and the one principally responsible for the economic, environmental and social policy of our country.

Pampariyutsi.

Attentively,

Regional Wixarika Council for the Defense of Wirikuta
Mexico, D.F., May 9, 2011

“Wirikuta is the matrix of life”: Wixarika Regional Council

“Wirikuta is the matrix of life”: Wixarika Regional Council

(Photos by Gerardo Ruiz Smith)
Editor’s note: The declaration of the Wixarika Regional Council in the Defense of Wirikuta is a powerful commentary on the increasing frequency of natural disasters and the lack of understanding in our contemporary cultures. May we heed their call before it’s too late.

Declaration of the Wixárika Regional Council for the Defense of Wirikuta

To the Wirikuta Defense Front of Tamatsima Waha’a
To the Civil Society in General
To the Three Powers of the Mexican State

Will they understand in time? Will the governments and corporations that control the material order of the world be capable of understanding in time that the disasters like earthquakes or tsunamis, which they only manage to define as natural phenomenon, are the furious words of those our people know as kaka+yarixi, deities or fundamental forces of nature that feel, think and have the word that permits us to live?

For us, these disasters have an urgent message, calling on humanity to try another way of relating with nature. We don’t know if government officials will be capable of listening and attending to the call in time, because they don’t show any signs of being good at dialog.

After our sacred site of Wirikuta was ordered by governmental decree and a management plan that protects it, the government granted concessions to a Canadian mining company that threatens the Sierra of Catorce and the desert lowlands that comprise this sacred zone, in the municipalities of Charcas, Villa de la Paz, Villa de Ramos, Zacatón, Catorce, Matehuala and Villa de Guadalupe.

We have been for more than seven months demanding that the government of our country cancel the concessions of the mining company First Majestic or Real Bonanza in the Sierra of Catorce and we have heard no response from any of the municipal, state or federal institutions. So what good, then, are the agreements, the decrees, the management plans and the word of Felipe Calderón dressed as a Wixárika promising the protection of our sacred places at the hour of signing the pact of Hauxamanaka just two years ago?

We have been demanding for more than seven months and once again, we make our demand:

That the federal government cancel the 22 mining concessions to the Canadian company First Majestic Silver Corp. and its Mexican “prestanombres” (one who loans his name in order to conduct business), Real Bonanza S.A. de C.V. Mining, in this sacred place not only destroys a fundamental pillar of the Wixárika culture, it is an attack that brings as a consequence many natural disasters and death.

The mining company asks us to let them extract minerals from the sierra in exchange for giving us the Cerro Quemado. We explained to them that the Sierra of Catorce is a sacred whole and therefore it is impossible to mine the area and to respect the Quemado. From the South to the North, the sierra is a collection of kaka+yarixi or fundamental ancestors and the springs that are essential for the rain and the fertility of our country. Wirikuta free of mining and of projects that destroy her natural fragility is what we are demanding that the government enforce.

We are not alone in this struggle. Every day more support is growing for the defense of Wirikuta. The Tamatsima Waha’a front, of which we are the point of the arrow, is constituted of numerous Mexican civil organizations and from other places in the world who are working intensely to offer solutions and build alliances with other peoples and other movements that also defend the roots of life.

We appreciate the support of the indigenous people of the United States and Canada, organized in the Native American Church and of course our brothers of the National Indigenous Congress.

We have organized conferences, debates, festivals to spread the word of our right to be respected and we plan still more musical festivals and gatherings and creative activities so that this threat of extermination be detained.

This is the path of our struggle. In what other way does the government want us to remind it of its historic and moral constitutional obligation to respect our fundamental patrimony, the patrimony of all Mexicans and all of humanity?

Listen, ladies and gentlemen of the government and who dominate the corporations: Wirikuta is the matrix of life. Matrix of the rain and of fertility. A place to remember our origin and the natural future of humanity. There is no room there for either mines nor industrial tomato growers. There is room for other projects so that the ejidal campesino families who live in Wirikuta, and those of us in the Wirikuta Defense Front have proposals for that.

We salute with respect all of those who have put forward their dignity in the face of so many years of dispossession and discrimination that today Wirikuta has one of the zones with the highest emigration rates in the country. We salute with the same respect the campesinos of Wirikuta who await this criminal exploitation with hopes of an improvement in their living conditions and who await too with the pain of seeing their children go to the United States, Monterrey and other places to never return, and who await the beginning of the mining exploitation with the pain of seeing that the uncontrolled ambition for money wants to do away with the sacred rain that keeps us alive, to throw them off their lands or make them accept with humility the mining alternative, who await First Majestic with the pain of living with the contamination of heavy metals left behind by the mining activities of the past.

To you, our brothers, our proposal is to change from below, from the local organization of so much injustice that you are now living, reconstructing your social fabric. We have made your situation our own and we are working so that between us we may demonstrate that we are capable of constructing dignified alternatives.

We appreciate the initiatives that are being worked on in an organized manner for the realization of cultural festivals, especially the group of artists and intellectuals who have joined this struggle. We exhort them to continue with this historic force and to trust in our organizational structure headed by our assemblies and traditional authorities, projected in the path of the Wirikuta Defense Front of Tamatsima Waha’a.

We send our recognition and congratulations to the companions with whom, together, we are the Wirikuta Defense Front of Tamatsima Waha’a for the nomination of an international award in the category of Human Rights, which is our demonstration that civil society can organize using the tools of communication that we count on, for which we call on the civil society to support this nomination by voting for our website and the other campaigns that have been launched by our movement.

We wish to reiterate the need to maintain an interlocution and coordination of confidence through the Jalisco Association in Support of Indigenous Groups (AJAGI), and to avoid delays in communication in our communities, which is indeed complicated.

This is what we wish to communicate to the people of Mexico and the Mexican State. It is what we reiterate from the Colonia Rivera Aceves, locality of Waut+a, in this tenth reunion of the Regional Wixarika Council for the Defense of Wirikuta conformed by our traditional and agrarian governments, kawiterutsixi and mara’akate and this is what we communicate to all of our friends of the Front, the journalists, intellectuals, groups of artists, politicians and to the society and general.

Attentively

Wirikuta is not for sale. Never again a Mexico without us.

Regional Wixarika Council for the Defense of Wirikuta
Tiway+la – Colonia Rivera Aceves, C.I. San Sebastián Teponahuaxtlán on April 9 of 2011
For Waut+a San Sebastian Teponahuaxtlan and Kuruxi Manuká

Gracias a Gerardo Ruiz Smith por su colaboración fotográfica. Vea su hermosa colección entera aquí.

Eagle and condor meet in visionary gathering of souls

Eagle and condor meet in visionary gathering of souls

By Tracy L. Barnett

CHALMITA, Mexico State, Mexico – Long before the sun appears over the towering white cliffs all around us, this temporary village comes to life. The guardians of the ceremonial fire are stoking the flames for the temezcal; the kitchen crew is chopping and peeling and stirring; smoke is rising from the women’s tipi. Suddenly the resonant call of the conch rings out over the valley, calling us to the salutation of the sun, and the cry of an eagle pierces the air like a blessing.

We are gathered in this enchanted valley for the Call of the Eagle, the tenth intercontinental gathering of a group of dreamers and doers who are quietly changing the world from the inside out: the Consejo de Visiones – Guardianes de la Tierra (Vision Council – Guardians of the Earth).

Some 500 visitors from as far as Australia and as near as neighboring Chalmita – filmmakers and farmers, psychologists and shamans, artists and teachers, spiky-haired punks and lyrical poets – are learning to live together under the blue skies and bright stars of an itinerant ecovillage conceived more than a decade ago under the banner of the Rainbow Caravan for Peace and the Mexican Bioregional Movement. By the end of the week, this event will have touched the lives of more than 1,000.

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This tenth gathering is a very special event for many reasons, chief among them that it is seen as the fulfillment of an Inca prophecy. When the Eagle and the Condor fly together, according to the prophecy, this will signal the dawn of a new era – the Eagle representing the North, and the Condor representing the South. Here in this sacred valley, lying in the shadow of an ancient pyramid amid the fertile Bosque de Agua, a high-energy group of visionaries, artists, and activists from North and South has come full circle.
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Fourteen years ago, a now legendary group of them, led by among others Alberto Ruz Buenfil, otherwise known as the Subcoyote – cousin of Fidel Castro and son of the archaeologist who discovered Palenque’s fantastic hidden treasures – set off from this region for an epic journey that was to create the foundation for an intercontinental environmental, spiritual and social movement. After holding the first intercontinental congress of the Vision Council, they headed off in a bus painted like an ear of corn through the Zapatista territory of Chiapas, through the volcanic highlands of Central America and the tropical lowlands of Amazonia all the way to the tip of the continent in Patagonia. Using theater and the arts to plant seeds of hope, peace and sustainability in conflict zones, indigenous villages and crime-ridden barrios, they connected and nurtured social movements throughout the continent.

Their second international event, the Call of the Condor in 2002, brought some 1,300 activists and artists to the Sacred Valley of Machu Picchu in Peru to begin the work of consolidating a vision for a transition to a new age. The third, Call of the Hummingbird, was held in Brazil in 2005 and drew more than 1,500.

Now, after 13 years, that caravan has finally come back to its roots, and the seeds they planted here in Mexico and across the continent have come full bloom in an astounding event that is awakening even the most cynical and reserved among us. Tears flow freely in the circles of dance, in the darkness of the temezcal, in the embraces of long-lost friends who have only just met.

But this is far from a feel-good encounter group. In fact, it’s far from anything I’ve experienced. These folks are facing the future with their eyes wide open, painfully aware of the resource and climate crises that loom on the horizon. It’s also not a hand-wringing session. No one here is waiting for government to resolve these pending crises, although government leaders are here to participate in the forums, workshops and demonstrations in areas encompassing ecology, health, spirituality, appropriate technology, and education among many others. Local schoolchildren, too, are brought in to participate in panels teaching self-reliance; local youth participate in forums organizing political and social action preparing for turbulent times in a post-petroleum world. Gaia University is here, sharing a revolutionary model for participatory education, granting diplomas, bachelor’s and master’s degrees while its students are engaged in planetary transformation.

One team is building an oven from mud and bricks, while another is building a solar clock; another group is learning about native herbal healing techniques, while still another is raising the ceremonial tipi that will be the headquarters of a powerful women’s healing circle, and another is discussing strategies for protecting this valley, a strategic but highly vulnerable center for water conservation. Another initiative is gathering momentum to support the Huicholes in a struggle to save their most sacred site, Cerro Quemado in Real de Catorce or Wirikuta, from a transnational mining operation.
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Sacred rituals from the world’s great traditions mingle with dance and creations of art and song to raise the energy throughout the week to a level I never thought possible. Activities run from sunup to 3 a.m., but sleep seems superfluous.

The culmination of the event comes after an all-night vigil to greet the dawn; a spectacularly feathered and painted group of Aztec dancers await us around a blazing fire, and a mandala of dance and rhythm and song erupts.
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As I sit down to try and put this phenomenon to words, I recall those of Coyote Alberto as we stood together on the last day.

“It’s all so perfect,” I told him. “My only regret is that it’s just impossible to put into words.”

He laughed knowingly – the author of several books about the caravan and its Rainbow Warriors, and now involved in a project to bring the lessons of the caravan home in Mexico City, he has struggled with this problem daily.

“Nobody believes you when you try to explain it,” he said. “They say, ‘You’re just writing what you want it to be.’ There’s no way to explain – you just have to live it.”

Never has a human being lived his words more authentically, more powerfully, more beautifully than the man at the heart of this vision turned reality. I can do no better than to end with some of those words, which Alberto shared with us during the closing ceremony.

“Two hundred years ago these lands were the scene of bloody battles; much blood was shed among our grandfathers and grandmothers to make a step forward in the process of evolution, of growth, toward our liberty as individuals, as a people, and as a nation…. A hundred years ago, again in these lands, much blood was spilled once again among our people, with the same goal, to be able to walk with a bit more liberty, a bit more strength.

“Today we are here together for the same cause, but together we are creating our own liberty, not just for Mexico but for the entire planet. Two hundred years ago we began the process of our independence. Today, what we have realized is that we are interdependent. Everyone for everyone… independence doesn’t exist. We are creating a planetary nation, interdependent.

“This day will be carried in the hearts of each of us as we take one more step on this road to liberty, this road toward dignity and justice. Everyone is responsible for everyone else. Our commitment is to this struggle, no longer with weapons of war but with weapons of dance and music, art and ceremony and ritual.

“If a hundred years ago a process of revolution began, today we also come to take a new step forward; we come to celebrate a re-evolution. We are standing here today, people from all over the planet, and each of us carries with us all our ancestors, all our traditions, all our grandparents, all those who struggled in the past to create a better future. Each one of you is the fruit of all the blood that was shed in these struggles, so that today we could be here present, celebrating, together in the same circle, with one heart and with one vision, on this day.

“Our grandparents spoke of prophecies. Today they are watching, and they see in us the ones they were waiting for.”


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Permaculture Institute heals the wounds of war

Permaculture Institute heals the wounds of war

By Tracy L. Barnett

SUCHITOTO, El Salvador – A gentle breeze ruffles the thatched roof of the hilltop shelter here at the Permaculture Institute. An electric-blue morpho butterfly flits past, a sharp accent against the muted blue of Volcano Guazapa in the background. An incongruously peaceful backdrop for the violence, massacres, scorched earth and forced evacuation that razed this region less than two decades ago.

That mountain, the hideout for guerilla forces for miles around, was bombed daily and burned repeatedly; the town of Suchitoto itself became a battlefield. Hundred of tons of artillery, white phosphorus and napalm rained down on the once lush jungles of these lands, drying up even the springs where people once retrieved their water.

But the Earth has a way of healing herself, and her inhabitants, and this land and the people who work it are living proof of that reality.

The Permaculture Institute of El Salvador or IPES (pronounced EE-Pace), for its Spanish acronym, has staked its claim on a stony, hilly hectare in this region. In part because of the strong community organizations that formed before the war, Suchitoto has proven fertile ground for a new approach to community development pioneered by peasant farmers, ex-combatants and a British permaculturist with a stubborn streak.

Karen Inwood was a community development specialist looking for a different approach when she met Juan Rojas, a former Salvadoran dissident forced to flee his country at the height of the civil war. Rojas, by a twist of fate, had ended up in Australia, where he met Bill Mollison, founder of an innovative new system of ecological design known as permaculture.

Rojas was excited by the idea of the system as an approach to rebuilding his country after the war, and returned in 1993 after the peace accords were signed to see what he could do. Realizing that permacultural principles have much in common with ancestral agricultural practices, he began in the heavily impacted department of Morazan, which is also where the largest concentration of indigenous Salvadorans still live. He began working with local farmers to learn their traditional practices. Utilizing the farmer-to-farmer method, he began working to disseminate these ideas along with permaculture principles, and later began working with leaders in the departments of La Libertad and his native Sonsonate.

The first Mesoamerican permaculture design course was held in Perquín, Morazan, in 1998 with the participation of campesinos from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador and Guatemala. These first Mesoamerican permaculturists went on to form the base for what later became IPES in El Salvador and IMAP in Guatemala, among others.

In 2000 he made a trip to England to attend an Ecovillage Training Course at the Findhorn Foundation and Karen, whom he met there, was intrigued with his project.

She headed to El Salvador to help him build the Permaculture Institute, and arrived to find a country in desperate need for the lessons in self-sufficiency and sustainability that Juan and others were working to spread.

“I’d always thought of ecovillages as an alternative lifestyle for those with the resources to buy land and move out to the country and do their thing,” she says. “My interest was to use permaculture for social change rather than as a lifestyle choice, and I came to El Salvador to do just that.”

Permaculture, as Inwood explains it, can be applied in everything from agriculture to architecture to community design. Its main application here, at the moment, is in teaching sustainable agriculture and living practices to the subsistence farmers that struggle at the edge of survival throughout the Salvadoran countryside. In practice, it can mean the difference between malnutrition and misery, and a life of good health, dignity and autonomy. And in an era of climate change, when this tiny and densely populated Central American nation has been named among the world’s most vulnerable, food security is on everyone’s lips, and permaculture seems to be taking on a new and bigger life.

After a decade working in the obscurity of this rugged countryside, with a bare minimum of financial support, mostly from individual donors and foundations in England, Inwood is beginning to see the group’s efforts bear fruit. More than 1,000 families have adopted permaculture practices on their land and are growing organic produce for self-consumption and for sale. A team of promotores, or farmers turned permaculture teachers, is using the farmer-to-farmer method, working through the regional ecological networks, spreading permaculture principles throughout the villages.

And this rugged, typically hilly and not particularly fertile parcel has been converted into an educational center and demonstration site for the dissemination of a new approach to rural life here in El Salvador, an approach that promises to lift its practitioners out of poverty and into self-sufficiency, in harmony with each other and with nature.

It’s a rustic and simple site, with structures built mostly from natural materials found on the land, and with a vast diversity of crops worked by a simple yet passionate team of campesinos.

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Other projects in the remote department of Morazán, one of the poorest regions of the country and one of the hardest hit by the war, have taken off and are blossoming; municipal governments are lending their support, and several hundred families are now practicing permaculture, with a team of promoters there beginning to branch out even further into the countryside.

Now, after years of trying to meet with and work with other community development organizations in the region and being repeatedly ignored, regional leaders are beginning to seek out the advice and input of IPES.

And most recently, representatives of the new leftist government of Mauricio Funes have expressed interest in applying permaculture principles to a national food security program aimed at strengthening the role of the family farm.

Inwood isn’t sure what has caused the sudden surge of interest, but speculates it has to do with the recent crises brought on by climate change: crops are failing due to intense flooding, followed by drought. A huge part of Central America’s bean crop has failed, and the price of what remains has gone sky-high; the price of the family basket has risen 300 percent in September and October.

Ironically, just at the moment when IPES has begun to break the ice with government agencies, and just as the group’s services are being widely sought, its funding sources have declined precipitously. The drop in the price of the pound has taken a toll, just as the financial crisis has left funders with less to share.

At the same time, the Funes government inherited the traditional patronage system of agricultural assistance, in which $33 million in agricultural “packages” consisting of hybrid seeds and agrochemicals are distributed throughout the country.

In the first year of its administration, before the young government had a chance to organize an alternative, the agricultural packages went out in the traditional way and there was an outcry among those who weren’t on the receiving end. The government realized the old system wasn’t working, and is now looking for new alternatives, Karen said. Permaculture is one of those alternatives.

“We’re excited but at the same time, it’s challenging,” she confesses, her expressive blue eyes widening. Those blue eyes, together with her gentle, sweet manner and her British-accented Spanish, have worked their magic with more than one hard-hearted bureaucrat, I imagined, watching her present her ideas to a pair of authorities from the United Nations Development Fund. The pair left impressed with what they saw, and were scheduled to attend another meeting with IPES the following week.

Contrasting with Karen’s feminine, British touch are the passionate and very Salvadoran approach of Agustin “Maclobio” Duran and Alejandro Martínez, two former Salvadoran guerillas who took the design course and ended up converts to the permaculture cause. Both see permaculture as a means to achieve the same goals they strove for in the revolution: a dignified life for their families.

After the war, an army of nongovernmental organizations descended on El Salvador, each with a different proposal for solving the country’s deeply entrenched problems. Like others from IPES, Agustin is critical of their approach. None that he has seen were ultimately viable, he said, and some were even deceptive; together, they left communities with a dependency mentality and in some ways, worse off than they were before. Permaculture, on the other hand, offers a different model, one that empowers people to take control of their own lives.

“I see it as a different kind of revolution, one that achieves just what we were fighting for – a dignified life for our people, healthy food and an education,” he said.

“From what I’ve seen since the war and in fact in my whole life, permaculture is what convinces me the most; it’s a more integral proposal. Of course it requires a lot of sacrifice, but if we were able to withstand all the risks and hardships of the war, we can do this, too.”

For Alejandro, the shift to this form of agriculture is urgently necessary, not just individually but at the community level.

“If we continue with the same agricultural practices we’ve inherited, we are going to suffer a great famine,” he said. “If we can spread the ideas of permaculture, we can all live well, and have a better system to pass on to the future generations.”

Agustin nodded his agreement. “That’s the challenge we face,” he said. “If we can successfully transmit these ideas, in 20 years things will be very different here, and maybe we can shift a little the destructive direction we’re headed in. We already have the effects of climate change upon us – but from this battle trench of IPES, we can minimize the impact, the consequences that we have already been suffering.

“We as campesinos, people who don’t have economic power, want to show the world that relying on solutions and alternatives so simple as learning from what surrounds us in nature, we can have multiple solutions to great problems, and we can solve them. It’s just a question of education and consciousness.”

For more information about the Permaculture Institute of El Salvador, to pay a visit or to sign on as a volunteer, see their website and/or their Facebook page.


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Listening to myself at the Center for Ecological Arts

Listening to myself at the Center for Ecological Arts

By Tracy L. Barnett

SAJONIA, RIO NEGRO, Colombia – My main contact in Medellín, passed along by friends from the Rainbow Caravan in Mexico, is a mysterious leader in the environmental movement, café owner, attorney and permaculturist known to me only as Pato. Sadly for me, Pato was in Peru for the duration of my stay, but he put me in touch with a couple of his young compañeros, and I duly followed his leads.

The first one took me out to the countryside for a blessed respite from the city at the newly founded Centro de Artes Ecologicas. I’d been asked to collaborate on a book about permaculture projects throughout the world, and I was excited to see what these creative paisas had come up with. I’m not sure what I expected – ecological houses, fragrant gardens and a busy staff, perhaps – but it’s not what I got.

There to meet me at the bus stop on the gravel road in the one-bar town of Sajonia, Rio Negro, some 40 minutes from Medellin was David Rojas, a volunteer who was holding down the fort in Pato’s absence. He shouldered my heavy pack and together we headed down the road.

“Someday we plan to build buildings, but for now we just have the carro-casa“, he was telling me.

Sure enough, the Cento de Artes Ecologicas is currently based in a broken-down RV, donated by a German who used it to travel through Latin America. It seemed I’d be camping. “I hope you’re not disappointed,” David said.

I quickly recovered from my initial disillusionment and began to listen and look at what was around me. David was a soft-spoken, tousle-headed young man who seemed to weigh the value of each word against that of quietude. I soon found a wellspring of wisdom in that quietude and in the conversations we shared in this beautiful mountain retreat.

“Most people are so busy they don’t really take the time to even listen to themselves, much less to others or to the nature that surrounds us,” he told me. “I come here to do just that.”

He took me on a tour of the site, filled with insights about the innovative permaculture practices the group is employing as they develop the property into a training center for ecological design. The hectare of land that the group has chosen is enormously diverse, with habitats ranging from wetlands to hardwoods to pine forest to pasture, and it slopes upward to a spectacular view of the hills all around.

He gave me a demonstration of the eco-bricks technique being used throughout Latin America, in which plastic bottles are packed tight with trash and used as bricks to build water storage tanks, benches, roads and even houses.

As darkness fell, we built a fire and cooked a simple dinner of pasta and onions, tomatoes and cheese, served with aguapanela, a delicious drink typical in the region made of hot water and panela, an unrefined chunk of condensed sugar cane syrup.

I awoke to the patter of rain on the metal roof and felt an enormous sense of gratitude for the shelter of the carro-casa. I spent awhile listening to the rain, the birds, David’s quiet breathing in the bunk above the cab – and to myself.

The next day we traveled together to the nearby mountain town of Ceja, where I met his friend and colleague Andrés Correa, another energetic and charismatic young leader. The two of them are working on an ecological design project for an ecoresort in Cocorna, Tierra de Agua, and they took me on a tour of a new agroforestry project established by the YMCA where they conduct workshops with local youth.

Here we are in front of the center, as darkness is falling, on a bench made from eco-bricks by Andrés and his crew of youngsters.

Over coffee, Andres quizzed me about my travels. He was intrigued by the concept of my journey, and wanted to know what I had seen. More than anything, he wanted to know if I had found what I was looking for: Hope.

He and David are recent converts to the permaculture cause, and he sees a growing back-to-the-land movement in his country evolving because of the change that’s in the air – changes preached by politicians who do little but ultimately manifested by nature itself, by the pending scarcity of petroleum and other substances that our economy depends on, and by the prophecies in the Mayan calendar, which ends in 2012.

“Basically, we’re getting ready,” he said. “I’d like to be hopeful, but mainly, I think we need to be prepared.”

In many of my conversations here in the South, I ask people how they see the coming transition, and in front of the campfire, David had left me with an image that stays with me still. I recalled it that night over coffee, and we ended our conversation on a hopeful note.

Back at the campfire, David had responded to my question with a gesture at the mountains that surround us.

“I see a future where this mountain will be dotted with little fires like this one, and everywhere you see a little fire will be a family,” he said. “They’ll be cooking together, sharing aguapanela, talking to each other, just as we are.

“Right now, everywhere you see a light is a family – a family that is most likely seated around the television or the computer, but probably not talking to each other. I think that will change.”

I think so too – and for all the fear that change may generate, in the end, it may not be a bad thing at all.


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