Pubdate: Sun, 26 Aug 2012
Source: El Paso Inc.  (TX)
Copyright: 2012 El Paso Inc.
Contact: 
https://elpasoinc-dot-com.bloxcms-ny1.com/site/forms/online_services/letter/
Website: http://www.elpasoinc.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/5400
Author: Morgan Smith

THE CARAVAN FOR PEACE

It was June 2011 and a tired Javier Sicilia, the Mexican poet, was 
ending his Caravana de Paz, his Peace Caravan, from Cuernavaca to 
Juarez with a presentation in the Plaza Benito Juarez.

What I'd remember, however, was not so much his speech but 
presentations from two women, one who had lost her husband and the 
other her son. They cried out in rage at the culture of killing that 
had taken over Mexico, silencing the audience of more than 2,000 people.

Remembering this night, I decided to attend Sicilia's stops in 
Albuquerque and Santa Fe during this new caravan that will visit 25 
U.S.. cities while en route to Washington, D.C.

He spoke in Albuquerque on Aug. 18 and in Santa Fe the next two days, 
and then headed to El Paso. His call for a binational effort to deal 
with the drug-related violence that has swept across Mexico is 
powerful and logical. It's hard to disagree with his call for a halt 
to the movement of weapons from the U.S. to Mexico or for a 
rethinking of this failed drug war.

Once again, however, the real power of the caravan was in the 
testimony of the many participants, or "caravaneros," who have lost 
loved ones to this violence. Here are some examples.

Lourdes Campos was born in Mexico City but moved to Aguascalientes 
because it is much safer. "My son was 32 years old," she tells me. 
"They killed him in Toluca. We have no idea who. The government is 
total corruption. My heart is wounded forever."

Maria Herrera talked about her four sons who have disappeared. "We 
are dying day by day, night by night. Our children are sacred. There 
is nothing more we can do but cry out in our pain, our impotency."

Guadalupe Aguilar is from Guadalajara. "My son, Jose Luis, was 34 
years old. He left the house to go to a business meeting at 11 a.m. 
in January 2011. He went in his car. Two months later, they found the 
car in the state of Colima. I went to masses in all the towns in that 
area, looking for information about him. But no one wanted to talk to 
me; they were afraid. A year and a half has passed and I haven't 
stopped looking for him for even one day.

"He has two sons, ages 4 and 6. I told them that I would find him. 
Every day they ask me, 'Where is Papa?'

"Last year I spoke to President Calderon but he didn't help. I go to 
the police headquarters six times every month but without results."

Speaking of Santa Fe, she says, "Here you can go out and walk at 
night. Not where I live. It is too dangerous."

Maria Gonzalez Vela lost her son Andres on Jan. 17, 2011. She lived 
in Puebla, and Andres, who worked in a hotel in Laredo, had been 
visiting. He left in his car to return to Texas, taking a highway 
that is notorious for kidnappings. He didn't smoke or drink, had 
graduated with excellence and was 37 years old.

At 10 p.m., he called her on his cell phone. "Mama, it's going well," 
he said. "Only two more hours to the border." Then he said that they 
were being stopped by what looked like soldiers or police. They asked 
for identification and then a bribe. She said that she could hear the 
increasing nervousness in his voice. She said, "Andres, what's 
happening, what's happening?" and then the phone was cut off.

She has searched the border area. None of his things ever appeared so 
she thinks that he might be alive, that perhaps he is being forced to 
work for the people who kidnapped him.

"They stole my life from me," she says. Searching for him in that 
area was dangerous but she says that pain is more powerful than fear.

Maria Guadalupe Guzman lives near Guadalajara in a small village 
called San Julian. She's in the caravan together with her daughter 
and grandson. Her son, Miguel Orlando Munoz Guzman, was a 19-year-old 
soldier when he disappeared from the barracks in Juarez. His colonel 
said to her, "It's a bad idea to know too much."

Leticia Mora Nieto is from the State of Mexico. On May 30, 2011, her 
daughter, Georgina Ivonne Ramirez Mora was 24 years old. She was in 
her house cooking, went to the store to buy some chiles and was never 
seen again. She had two babies. No one has heard anything about her. 
"Our family has been destroyed," her mother says.

Thanks to the leadership of Javier Sicilia, these women have the 
opportunity to tell their stories here. They are terrible stories but 
they must be heard in order to understand what is happening in Mexico.
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom