Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Give thanks

Dear friends,
    Holiday greetings from CDMX! I hope you are all enjoying the winter weather, whether that be cold and snowy or otherwise, and the holiday preparations. Although Mexico City is anything but cold and wintery (highs are generally in the mid-70s lows in the mid-40s), the city is embracing the holiday spirit, with Christmas lights, ice-skating rinks, artificial snow, and even a fake hill in the city center for kids to sled down. I have been busy getting ready for holiday celebrations with my host community-for my church´s Christmas posada (a re-enactment of the Christmas story) and my office's Christmas party, where your's truly will be performing with the office band, Los Ecumenical All Stars. As much as I have enjoyed getting ready for the holidays, I have been hit with occasional pangs of homesickness, knowing that this is my first holiday season away from home. However, I wanted to share an experience from our first YAGM group retreat that impacted me strongly, and and threw my experience of being away from home during the holidays into a whole new perspective.

    One of the many strengths of the YAGM program is that it intentionally works to build community, not only within our host communities, but also within the group of volunteers. YAGM volunteers regroup three times during the year for week-long retreats in order to rest, bond as a group, and share our experiences. This November, I spent Thanksgiving week with the other YAGM-Mexico volunteers and our country coordinators in the gorgeous state of Tlaxcala. After a few months in the city, it was wonderful to get out into the mountains, breath fresh air, and be outside of the traffic and congestion for a few days.

Some of the lovely Tlaxcala landscape. 
  
  Although I was excited to spend Thanksgiving with the other volunteers and our country coordinators, I felt pangs of homesickness in thinking of my family back at home. Thanksgiving in my family is a borderline sacred affair, with a spread of food of Southern Living magazine proportions. As a southerner, I associate Thanksgiving with fried turkey, cornbread and oyster stuffing, sweet potato soufflé, collard greens, and two types of cranberry sauce (one fresh, and the other that still has indentations from the can). Mostly though, I associate Thanksgiving with a lot of love and laughter, surrounded by a huge family.
  

I was thinking of memories of past Thanksgivings when on the day before Thanksgiving we went as a group to visit the migrant shelter La Sagrada Familia, in Apizaco, Tlaxcala. Our theme for our week-long retreat was globalization and economics, and we spent significant time discussing the impact of economic decisions and trade agreements (such as NAFTA) on the Mexican/Latin American economy and migration. As part of this discussion, we went to visit La Sagrada Familia, where YAGM volunteers have served in the past, and where one of our volunteers has just begun to serve this year. This shelter opened in 2010 and since then, has served about 30,000 guests, most of whom stay for 1-2 nights. 90% of the guests are 25-35 year old men, although they have received boys as young as 14 who are traveling alone, and women who have given birth in the shelter during their journeys (sound familiar?). Most are from El Salvador, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and Honduras, and are traveling north-either to the US, or to other locations in Mexico. Many are seeking greater economic opportunity, or are escaping violence-during our visit, we met an 18-year old man from Honduras whose 4 brothers were murdered by gangs, before his mom begged him to go the US for his own safety.

The shelter entrance. 


Mural at the shelter-¨Smile without limits.¨
    
The majority of migrants arrive to the shelter on the infamous La Bestia (the beast), referring to the system of trains that many migrants ride north. These trains are also known as ¨trains of death¨-by the time many migrants arrive to the shelter in Apizaco, they have been traveling for 15-20 days. They ride on the top of the train, although they sometimes have to cling to the side for 15-20 hours at a time. Almost all are assaulted, beaten, or robbed during their journey, and train company employees are known to shoot at the migrants as they pass by. Many women and girls are victims of rape and sexual violence during their journey. As they reach Apizaco and the colder climates without sufficient winter clothing, many are at risk for frostbite, hypothermia, and illness. La Bestia  passes right next to the shelter, and migrants have to leap off the moving train and avoid the cement poles that line both sides of the track. The train company erected these poles in order to deter migrants from riding the trains-however, there is a mere 50 cm. gap between the moving train car and the poles. Too frequently, when migrants try to jump down from the train car and avoid the poles, they are thrown under and crushed by the wheels. We were able to see this train pass during our visit, and although it was empty of passengers, I shuddered as I stood next to the tracks, heard the screech of the wheels, and saw the metal glow hot red as the cars lumbered north.

   
La Bestia passing by the shelter.


The narrow gap between the poles and the train. 



One of the things that has surprised me during my time in Mexico is how many people have ties to North Carolina, and my experience at La Sagrada Familia was no different. We were able to speak with a group of migrants who were staying at the shelter, and when I mentioned that I was from North Carolina, one of the men replied that he had lived in NC for years, and had spent significant time in Raleigh, Charlotte, Asheville, Elizabeth City, and Wilson, where had worked in roofing for many years before being deported. His children, however, are US citizens and remain back in the US, awaiting him as he attempts another journey north. ¨I didn't go to the US to commit crimes or destroy the American dream-I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't even drive over the speed limit,¨ he shared with the group. ¨I came to do the jobs that no one wants to do, that US citizens don't want to do-no one wants to work in roofing in NC in the summer! I just want to provide a better life for my family.¨

Map of routes to the US. 

The group at La Sagrada Familia with our host Angel. 
    
With our time wrapping up, we wished the men best of luck in their journey, and our country coordinator Omar shared a special wish for the migrants, several of whom were fellow honduerños. ¨Never be ashamed of making this journey or trying to provide a better life for your families. It is nothing to be ashamed of. And if you ever feel unsafe in your communities back home, don't be afraid to take care of yourself and leave.¨ As we headed back to start preparations for Thanksgiving, I thought of the irony of visiting a migrant shelter the day before the US celebrates the welcoming of European refugees by the local indigenous population. I thought of the 18 year old man clinging to the side of the train in the cold, while my 18 year old brother is able to focus on his studies and friends at one of the top universities in the country. I thought of the tiny blue book sitting back in my suitcase that will allow me to comfortably cross back over the border to a life that couldn't be farther removed from those of many of the men we met at the shelter.

The gang getting dinner ready. 

    And the following day, as I sat down to a table groaning with the weight of food, looking out over the mountains, surrounded by a newfound family, I gave thanks. Thanks for the overabundant food, while many who I had met the day before didn't know where their next meal would come from. Thanks for my family back in the US, who I will be able to see again in just a few weeks, while many in the US wait for their loved ones, not knowing if they will survive the journey. Thanks for my fellow volunteers and country coordinators, who have been a source of joy and support these four months. Thanks for my host community in CDMX who has welcomed me with open arms, and carried me through the highs and lows. And thanks for those back in the US working to improve a broken immigration system, working to be a country that continues to receive ¨...your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free...¨, regardless of skin color, income, nationality, language, religion, or anything else. A country that can work to fulfill the promise that so many risk life and limb hoping to find-life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness for all.

YAGM-Mexico fam. 
Quote at the shelter from a popular hymn-one translation reads: 
¨Let nothing disturb you, 
let nothing frighten you, 
everything passes, 
but God stays. 
Patience reaches all, 
(s)he who has God, 
lacks nothing: 
God alone suffices.¨

Friday, December 2, 2016

The Elephant in the Room

Dear friends,
     *Full disclaimer-this is a political post. If you know me at all (or have seen any of my Facebook posts), you can probably guess my political leanings. This is not meant to be an attack on anyone, or on their beliefs. This is simply meant to be a honest reflection on my experience as a US expat in México during this election and the immediate aftermath-an experience which is solely my own, and not representative of others. To not write about this experience would be to not acknowledge the (literal) elephant in the room that is affecting my host community and my experience here in Mexico. However, I am the first to say that this is not an unbiased post. I am sad, and I am being asked a lot of questions here that I have no idea how to answer. If you wish to stop reading now, I will take no offense. I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, but ask that you keep it respectful.*

To say that this election season has been a weird time to be a US expat in México is an understatement. When I first arrived to CDMX two months ago, people occasionally asked me about Trump, what I thought about him, and who I was voting for. As the months progressed, news of the election grew more and more widespread-I began to hear discussions of the presidential debates on the radio in the combi on my way to work, and any development in the campaign made front page news. However, it wasn't until I visited the exhibit on migration in the Museum of Memory and Tolerance that I was hit in the face by the reality of this election in Mexico. The Museum of Memory and Tolerance in México City is a massive museum that focuses on human rights, the Holocaust, and other genocides, with a goal of promoting understanding between different peoples. Their interactive exhibit on migration focuses primarily on the experience of Mexican and Central/South American migrants on the journey to the US. I caught my breath as I entered the first feature of the exhibit, which featured a giant mural depicting the US border patrol, La Migra (Mexican border patrol), and the border wall between the US and México. The other side of the room featured several videos playing at once. One video was a compilation of several white US citizen shouting racial slurs towards undocumented migrants. Another was of a white US man who hired a group of undocumented Mexican migrants for a day, claiming he needed them to help him move furniture, only to take them to the local immigration office. This man laughed as he watched the migrants leap from the truck and run across the highway, as if it was some sick joke-which he then uploaded to YouTube. The final video was the now infamous clip from Donald Trump, in which he refers to Mexican immigrants as drug dealers, criminals, and rapists.


The mural in the migration exhibit at the Museum of Memory and Tolerance in Mexico City. 

Fast forward a month and a half, and it is election night. I am in the house of Erika, another US expat, with several of our friends, who hail from México, Canada, France, the United States, and Bolivia. The room hummed with excitement and energy, as we all talked about what it would mean for our respective countries if Hillary were to win. I was impressed by how well informed my non-US friends were about the election, and how concerned they were about the results. I thought about what it would mean to tell my children that I had rang in the election of the first woman president with people from all over the world.

However, as the evening passed and more and more results came in, the mood grew somber. We began to talk about what it would mean for our respective countries if Trump won-what it would mean for healthcare, environmental issues, international relations, and the global economy. I jokingly asked my Canadian friend Tyler how much I would have to pay him to marry me for papers. As a North Carolinian who has taken pride in telling my friends here about the people, food, and geography of my home state, I was saddened to see that my state, which is known as one of the most progressive and forward-thinking in the South, take another step in the conservative direction. As midnight came and went, and it became obvious that the final result wasn't going to be known for several more hours, we went to bed with a sinking feeling in the pit of our stomachs.

The following morning, I woke up knowing that what I saw when I turned on my phone would have implications for the rest of my life. I felt my stomach drop when the first WhatsApp message came in from my friend Maria in Sevilla, offering her condolences for what had happened. I immediately called my mom and broke down crying-crying for my Muslim, immigrant, LGBTQI+, female, disabled, and POC friends, whose lives would now be irrevocably different. In these first few days after the election results, there have already been instances of surge in hate crimes against Muslims, white supremacist graffiti and swastikas, painted across buildings and churches, black people being told to sit in the back of the bus, and white kindergarteners shouting at their Latino/a classmates to ¨Go back to México!¨. My boyfriend, who is a high-school math teacher, told me that one of his students who is Muslim cried for two hours straight when she first heard the news. Another teacher at his school, who has a transgender daughter, wept for fear of what the future would look like for her child. In this first week after the election, many people have been left to wonder what will happen to their rights, their families, and their futures.


The group at the elction watch party. 

After pulling myself together, I went to the office, where my coworkers immediately greeted me with long, silent hugs. Throughout the day, I had some of the hardest conversations I've had yet in México. ¨How could this happen?¨ ¨How could he have won?¨ ¨What does this mean for México?¨ The ¨Trump effect¨ began to hit Mexico before the final results of the election were even announced, causing the peso to hit record lows, and threatening the livelihood of many people here in México. My coworkers expressed concern for the Mexican and global economy, wondering if we are headed yet again to another global recession. They wondered what would happen to all the migrants from Central and South America if they would be unable to enter the US, and if México would be able to absorb them. They discussed a movement in México to boycott US products and companies in light of Trump´s win. ¨No sabía que Estados Unidos tuviera tanto odio ¨I didn't know that the US had such hate in it.¨ I commented to my coworkers. There response hit me like a punch to the gut. ¨Lo sabiamos.¨ ¨We did.¨

The tough conversations continued when I got home from work. Nef greeted me with a long hug, as any good dad would, and said he was so sorry for what had happened. He and Dani expressed disbelief and shock, saying they had no idea that the US was this misogynistic, and that they expected this kind of stuff to happen in México, not the most powerful country in the world. They said they wanted to see me again after this year, but now aren't sure they ever want to visit the US-or if they would even be able to. They expressed concern for the Mexican economy, wondering if they would lose their jobs, and have to find work in another country, and worrying especially for their loved ones who work paycheck to paycheck. They thought of their loved ones in the US, both those with documents and those without, and what would happen to them and their families. ¨I know someone who is undocumented in the US, but his young children were born there and are US citizens¨, worried Dani. ¨If he and his wife are deported, I don't know what is going to happen to his kids¨. I think a comment from one of Dani´s coworkers sums up the current mood in México best: ¨No sabiamos que los gringos nos odiaran tanto¨. ¨We didn't know that the white people hated us so much¨.

Debating the pros and cons of each former candidate is now a moot point. I can only speak to my personal experiences and feelings. And the truth is, I'm terrified. I'm terrified that our president-elect is man with no political or military experience, who has insulted people of color, LGBTQI+ people, people with disabilities, and Muslims, to name just a few. As a proud feminist who worked throughout college in sexual assault prevention education, I am terrified that he has openly bragged about sexually assaulting women. I was excited to have a woman leading the most powerful office in the world, and what that would mean for gender equality everywhere. I also recognize that many people who supported Trump have been some of the most marginalized and forgotten in a changing economy, and are now some of the most vulnerable to his proposed future policies.
But right now, my heart primarily breaks for my host community, who have welcomed me with open arms, hearts, and home, who our president elect has called druglords, criminals, and rapists. Because the truth is, as a white, heterosexual, upper-middle class, able-bodied, cisgender, college-educated US citizen,  I have about as much privilege as anyone can. And I know that in July 2017, I will be able to cross back over the border to a life relatively protected from the actions of a Trump presidency, not knowing what will happen to my host community after I leave. The results of Trump's election will affect México for years to come, and Trump´s win is certainly affecting their perception of us. ¨This does not line up with my image of the US¨, Dani told me. ¨The people from the US I have met have all been open-hearted and kind. I didn't know the US could be like this. I worry for Mexicans who don't know any US citizens, and think that this is what all people from the US are like. My idea of the US is now changing.¨


Clip from Trump's speech at the Museum of Memory and Tolerance. 

When I wrote the first draft of this blog post, I couldn't think of any words of faith or unity in the face of challenges with which to end this post. However, during this tumultuous week, I realize that I have been surrounded by inspiration. I have been inspired by my host dads, who when I texted them in a panicked state on election night, toId me that they loved me and that everything will be alright. I have been inspired by my coworkers, congregation, and host community, who have only shown me support and kindness, never judging me based on the country I come from, nor the extreme actions and words of some in said country. Although they have as much right to be angry as anyone, they instead choose grace and openness. I am inspired by the people taking to social media, volunteer organizations, and the streets, fighting for the most oppressed. Protests and marches are a good and important part of our nation's history, and  in my opinion, does not show a disdain for our country, but rather a desire for it to become a more perfect union. I also take hope in the scripture quoted by Hillary in her concession speech. "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." (Galatians 6:9)

As an expat abroad, I have been the recipient of so much beautiful good and welcome during my time in México. I am called this year to live and learn alongside my host community here in México. However, I am equally called to continue my work for justice and equality at the end of this year, when I return back to the United States.  I hope and pray for the space for honest and necessary dialogue during this divided time, and that we work to lift up the very real concerns of the most vulnerable among us, both within our own country, and abroad. For, "The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine you did for me´" (Matthew 25:40). And most of all, I hope and pray that we remember that regardless of our country or nationality, we are all bound by the same ties as children of God-ties that no border or wall can break.   

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Day of the Dead

Dear friends,
     Feliz (belated) dia de muertos! These past few days have been a whirlwind of activity celebrating the Day of the Dead, marking the culmination of over a month of preparation. As October progressed, Mexico City seemed to thrum with more and more energy, as people prepared their ofrnedas, the city organized for the first desfle de muertos, and everything seemed to erupt in color. Day of the Dead, or Dia de Muertos, is a holiday celebrated on the 1st and 2nd of November, with roots in both indigenous and Catholic traditions, and dating back hundreds of years. The traditional belief is that on these days, the spirits of deceased are able to come back to earth, with the first day traditionally recognizing the spirits of children who have passed, and the second day recognizing adults. Many families erect ofrendas in their homes to welcome spirits, which often feature fruits, pan de muerto, sweets, candles, photos of loved ones, flowers, and brightly colored papel picado.  Although Day of the Dead traditions are mixing more and more with Halloween influences, many families dress up with the traditional catrina/catrin makeup, inspired by the images of a finely dressed calavera, or skeleton, made famous by cartoonist Jose Guadalupe Posada, which that has now come to serve as a symbol of Day of the Dead. Many families clean and decorate the graves of loved ones, and the holiday is seen as a time to honor the life and memories of your queridxs. For more about the history of Day of the Dead, (and especially the food!) check this out.
     This perspective on death is very different from the traditional US perspective-death is seen more as the next step or another stage of life, rather than a finality, a perspective I find a little more healthy. As my host dads told me, ¨Day of the Dead is more about life than death.¨People were often surprised to hear that in the US context, death is often a taboo topic and after someone´s funeral, we generally don´t have specific occasions where we honor their life or memory.  I was welcomed into the Day of the Dead celebrations by my host community, and I could write for pages about my experience. However, at the risk of sounding trite, I also believe a picture is worth a thousand words, so I thought I would make this particular blog post a little more visual and share some of my favorite pictures from my experience with Day of the Dead.


My first experience with catrina makeup, thanks to Nef´s artistic talents. 


The festivities began with a trip to Plaza Santo Domingo, where various groups had created ofrendas with the theme of Rufino Tamayo, a famous Mexican artist. 





A display of  trajineras, or boats, that cruise through the canals of Xochimilco. 


One of the most moving ofrendas I saw was at the Museum of Memory and Tolerance, which created an ofrenda in memory of migrants who have perished on their journey to the United States. 




The weekend continued with a trip to the capital of the state of Tlaxcala, where fellow YAGM volunteer Anneka (right) lives and works. Her family welcomed us in with open arms, and it was a wonderful opportunity to see another part of the country, meet her host family, and reunite with fellow volunteers Steph, Tim, and Jeanette. Here we are pictured making homemade pan de muerto, one of the most famous foods of Day of the Dead- 



In Tlaxcala, we also had the opportunity to visit  a festival of traditional dances from all regions of Mexico. 



 


This year, Mexico City had it´s first official desfile de muertos, inspired by the opening scene from the recent Bond movie Spectre. Above are some of my host dads´ pictures from the event. 


At the CEE, we created an ofrenda honoring the founders of the CEE, one of which was a Lutheran pastor!


My coworkers Anabel (left) and Mariana (right) helping to prepare the ofrenda. 


Leaving a trail of flower petals, which is traditionally thought to help the spirits find their way to the ofrenda. 


My coworker Anabel and I were able to attend the festival of chocolate and pan de muerto in the Coyoacan neighborhood, which is known as a bohemian center for artists and thinkers, and the former home of famous artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. 


 

An ofrenda for the famed Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. 


One of the most beautiful moments for me was when we created our family ofrenda in our house, combining pictures of Nef and Dani´s grandparents and my great-grandparents and grandfather. My paternal grandfather passed away a year ago this October, and it was a bittersweet moment to place his picture on the ofrenda. One of the joys about my experience here has been sharing stories of my family and learning about my host family, and this ofrenda represents the joining of my US family and my host family here in Mexico. 







With Nef (left) and Dani (right) in full catrin/catrina makeup. On Nov. 1st, we went to Mixquic, which  is a small town on the outskirts of Mexico City famous for its Day of the Dead ofrendas, and the throngs of people who come do adorn graves in the cemetery. 


We were also joined by my fellow YAGM volunteer Justin (second from left). 


Nef´s mom was extremely kind, and lent me her gorgeous dress and accessories. 






Some of the ofrendas at Mixquic. 


We were able to hear a famous singer from the state of Oaxaca, who sang many of her songs in the indigenous language. 


Dani wrote me an extremely sweet calaverita literaria, which a traditional comic poem written for someone for Day of the Dead. 


This is one of my favorite pictures, as I believe it represents how traditional Day of the Dead customs are incorporating new traditions. My host community welcomed me into their celebrations, and made Day of the Dead an experience I will never forget. 

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Mi Primer Viaje a la EFI

Como parte de mi trabajo este año, tengo suerte de viajar con el Centro de Estudios Ecuménicos (CEE). El CEE acompaña procesos comunitarios, redes territoriales y redes temáticas  en los estados de Guerrero, Coahuila, Oaxaca, Puebla y Ciudad de México.

Yo colaboro en los procesos de redes territoriales de Oaxaca y redes temáticas en Puebla. El fin de semana pasado, viajé con Ana Paula, Daniel y Abraham compañeros del CEE para participar en una reunión de la Escuela de Formación Integral (la EFI). La EFI, como es llamada, es un espacio para hombres, mujeres y jóvenes de 5 parroquias de la costa mixteca de Oaxaca. El CEE colabora en conjunto con el Grupo de Estudios Ambientales (GEA) y las parroquia católicas para fortalecer la acción comunitaria.

La ofrenda de la EFI, que es un simbolo de lo que nos une.


Lxs lideres y miembrxs de la EFI.  

La EFI es un espacio donde  lxs participantes tienen la oportunidad de combinar la teología, liturgia católica con un conocimiento de temas medioambientales y humanitarias, como la reducción de la polución, el peligro de los megaproyectos, fortalecer sus prácticas agrícolas, los derechos  indígenas , y la sostenibilidad.

La escuela tiene una reunión cada mes, y fue fundada en 2015, con este año marcando la segunda generación. La nueva generación toma clases en tres temas, y cada clase dura tres meses. La clase ¨Liturgia¨ está enseñada por sacerdotes de la parroquia, la clase ¨Alimentando la Tierra¨ es compartida por GEA, y ¨Lecturas Populares de la Biblia¨ es facilitada por el equipo CEE. La segunda generación toma tres clases nuevas.: ¨Liturgia II¨, ¨Plagas y Enfermedades¨, y ¨Justicia Social¨, que está enseñada por lxs compañerxs del CEE.

El viaje empezó cuando nos subimos al carro que es pequeño y nos fuimos de la ciudad.Cuando nos fuimos de la ciudad, empezamos a ver montañas bellísimas y cañones enormes.  Después de estar en la ciudad por un mes, yo estaba muy emocionada estar afuera de la ciudad, respirar aire fresco, y ver más árboles. Aunque me gusta la vida  en la ciudad y la variedad de cosas hay que hacer, prefiero estar en la naturaleza. Después de 9 horas y 500 kilómetros, descansamos por la noche, antes de salir muy temprano por la madrugada al pueblo pequeñito donde esta la EFI. Llegamos al lugar, que fue un patio grande y abierto con un techo muy alto que me parecía más a un hangar de aviones.

La temperatura había subido mucho desde cuando nos fuimos de CDMX, y con 32 grados y mucha humedad, me sentía en Carolina del Norte, mi hogar, otra vez. La diferencia entre mi altura y la altura de la mayoría de personas allí fue muy grande. Ana Paula me dijo que cuando yo entré, muchas abuelitas le dijeron a ella ¨Pero, la norteamericana es muy alta!¨. Después de empezar con una oración, lxs 60 participantes fueron a sus propias clases, con 9 personas en la clase de Justicia Social.


Escuchando a Daniel. 


La clase de Justicia Social. 

Fue una experiencia inolvidable estar en una parte más rural de México, donde vimos muchas personas montando caballos al lado de la carretera, patos, gallos, y pollos enfrente de las casas, y donde tuvimos que parar por un rebaño de vacas.

Ayudé con la clase de Justicia Social, que fue enseñado por mi compañero de trabajo Daniel. En el taller,escuché a Daniel que habló con el grupo sobre las intersecciones de la justicia social y el ambientalismo, con ejemplos sobre la contaminación y la polución del agua. Discutimos la intercesión del cuidado al medioambiente y la fe, y como estamos llamadxs a cuidar a la creación de Dios. También, hay una oportunidad nueva para miembrxs de la segunda generación, para que puedan entrenar para ser facilitadores.

Lxs nuevxs facilitadores. 


La discusión continuó con una examinación de los Derechos Humanos Internacionales, y como las comunidades pueden trabajar juntas a proteger esos derechos y llamar la atención del gobierno cuando el gobierno no protege los derechos humanos de los pueblos. Miembrxs del grupo hablaron de instancias de violaciones de los derechos humanos de mujeres, miembrxs de la comunidad LGBTQI, grupos indígenas, y comunidades pobres.

Tuve la oportunidad en el taller de compartir mi experiencia personal en relación a las temas medioambientales en los EEUU. Cuando Ana Paula me pidió dar una descripción breve de los problemas medioambientales en los EEUU, estaba muy abrumada y no sabía cómo describir un problema tan complejo y de un país tan grande en poco tiempo. Ofrecí unas estadísticas para dar un contexto del impacto medioambiental de los EEUU, por ejemplo, que  EEUU es el segundo del mundo en usar grandes cantidades de la electricidad y contribuir a los gases de invernadero del mundo. Fue un momento muy impactante de compartir información y comprensión. Representar a mi país es una responsabilidad enorme, y creo que necesitamos discutir más los temas medioambientales, porque todxs nosotrxs habitamos este planeta, independientemente de nuestra nacionalidad.

Hablando sobre mis experiencias en los EEUU. 

Al final del taller, disfrutamos la comida, hicimos nuestras despedidas, y regresamos a CDMX (pero después de disfrutar la playa por un ratito el domingo por la mañana). Con 20 horas en tres días en un coche muy pequeño, fue un viaje muy largo. Pero, fue un viaje lleno con conversación, risa, y compañerismo con el equipo CEE y lxs miembrxs de la EFI. Me parecía muy poderoso tener el espacio para discutir los derechos humanos, el cuidado del medioambiente, y para fomentar el empoderamiento de las comunidades. Es un privilegio ver otra parte y otro contexto del país, y tengo muchas ganas de continuar trabajando y aprendiendo con la EFI.


El grupo creando el Arbol de Esperanza, una actividad en nuestro taller.