la gente unida jamás será vencida

as i said in my last post, there were giant protests across the country last week against proposed education reforms.   i was strongly advised not to go.  i debated with myself for a while, but finally i just thought, screw it.  if i followed every state department warning, i'd spend my whole life locked in a pupi little apartment in the north, with a private security guard holding a machine gun at the gate.  and that's no way to live.  or experience colombia.  that's not why i'm here.  if i always did what they said, i'd probably not even be here in the first place.  and anyway, this is an issue that's pretty important to me.  and that i'm kind of invested in, as a teacher in colombia.  so i went.  i haven't been to a protest in months, and i've never been to a protest like this.

 

there were rumors that it might turn violent.  warnings that the FARC and ELN rebels might infiltrate the protests and incite violence to stick it to the government.  apparently they've done this before at protests.  but these rumors seemed to me absolute poppycock, even (and maybe especially) because they came from the government's intelligence agency.  the government tends to take the convenient witch-hunt approach of accusing anyone who disagrees with them of being rebels.  it's so handy for suppressing popular dissent.

there were also some worries because at some student protests the week before, they chucked homemade explosives about.  not good, guys.  protests are great, but violent ones, not so much.  plus it totally degrades your legitimacy.  but i didn't think this one would turn violent--the organizers and student leaders had promised a peaceful protest, and this one was so big and well organized and observed that i trusted they'd stick to it.

i was a little torn at first, because in some ways, this wasn't my fight.  but in other ways, it was.  i am a teacher in colombia--i have a responsibility to stand up for the rights of other teachers and work to improve their working conditions, even if i won't get those benefits myself.  but mostly, it was because of my kiddos.  i love those little tykes, even and especially the troublesome ones.  and having the opportunity of higher education--whether or not they wind up going to college or technical school--makes a huge difference in their motivation during primary education, and even in their outlook on life. but if little alejandra knows that she has no opportunities in life other than running a hair clip stall in the market like her parents, what's her incentive to put effort into studying english?  or to anything in school, for that matter, beyond maybe basic arithmetic.  that's bad news for me and for her.

it was a teacher work day, so there were no classes--i think that's why they scheduled the protest when they did.  at around 7 am, i was grading some papers when i heard loud shouts, chanting, and horns blaring on the street.  i rushed outside half-dressed to see what the commotion was, but people were too distracted to notice my pjs.  a crowd of students bearing banners was marching and shouting and running through the street.  they took up the whole 4-lane highway, much to the dismay of commuters.  hordes of police officers on motorcycles followed them.  "not nearly as many as the last one..." commented my host brother, who'd come out to see the fuss too.

i headed down for the central square, the plaza de simon bolivar.  it was pretty packed, with a big stage at one end where union and advocacy leaders were giving speeches.  they were pretty interesting, too--i learned a lot more about the issues with the education system in colombia.  and it was inspiring to see such passion from so many people.

the plaza was also packed with street vendors, which seemed a bit odd at first but i suppose was quite economically logical.  mixing with the shouts of support to the speakers and chanted political slogans were calls of "fresh orange juice--just 400 pesos!  chicharones!  papas fritas! gaseosas y agua frío!"  people pushed carts filled with barrels of fresh-squeezed juice, tart salted mangoes drenched in lime juice, sizzling skewers of dubious-looking meat, crispy empañadas and arepas, trays of deep-fried pork rind, and churros glistening with sugar and hot oil.  i think brown student groups could take a leaf from colombia's book--put all that on the main green and you're sure to get a bunch more people at your protest--one thing's for certain, college students are always up for good (and preferably free) food.

after a while, i went to check out the marches.  there were 5 coming from various parts of the city, all converging on the plaza.  some of them had been blocked by the police (bad form, guys).  but others had made it through.  there were so many people! they just kept coming and coming down the street with their signs and flags and banners.  people lined the streets cheering them on, joining in the chants.  some people from the top floor of an office building came to the window, waved and shouted their support, and started throwing confetti out the window like it was a parade.

it started to rain, but they remained unfazed.  "¡abajo, abajo, abajo a la privatización!"  i joined in with their chant, smiling wryly as i remembered learning that word in spanish class almost 10 years ago with that infantile rhyme: "izquierda, derecha, delante detrás. cerca de lejos de, y algo más. ABAJO, arriba, enfrente, encima. y ahora, muchachos, se acaba la rima!" who knew that one day i'd be putting that knowledge to this use? ¡la gente unida jamás será vencida!" that has a much nicer ring to it in spanish than in english.

we continued along the road towards the museo del oro and the national bank.  these were bigger streets now, and they were thickly lined with police in full riot gear--big shields, bullet-proof vests, stern helmets, guns, batons, bandoliers of teargas.  private security guards stood in front of the bigger shops and building.  at the smaller shops, people pulled down their metal gratings and peered nervously out at the scene. some students went up to empty walls and started graffitiing political slogans and opposition messages against the reforms.  a bit further down the road a few teenage boys got into an argument with the police.  as the argument got more heated, the crowd got more nervous.  then the boys started waving machetes at the police.  yikes.

i am pretty terrified of machetes.  perhaps it's because the LRA rebels, who have been on my mind a lot over the past 5 years, are known as the tong tong (chop chop) after the machetes they use.  i remember when i was in rwanda, heading towards kigali from the ugandan border, i saw a group of teenage fellows on their way to work in the tea fields, holding machetes.  it's been almost ten years, but it still sent shivers down my spine.  and i did not feel much better now.

deciding this might be a good time to peace, i went down a side street to the broad boulevard near the museum.  it's a lovely little place, full of cafes and restaurants and shops--a nice place to hang out.  but it had a somewhat sinister feel today--imposing black tanks with dark windows and bullet proof plating were parked in front of the church, a few meters from the marchers.  they had those triangular plough shaped things at the front like trains have for knocking aside cattle.  except these were for knocking aside people.  the street was packed with police, all geared up and looking ready for battle.

a handful of protesters turned down a side street and advanced with their banner, painted on an old bed sheet.  almost immediately, a phalanx of police converged and started towards them.  they made for quite an intimidating sight, marching sternly towards the students.  they were in even more riot gear and armor than the other police, and looked rather like stormtroopers--and not the sort of goofy ones in episode 4, the super creepy ones in episode 3 all dressed in black and ready to do darth veder's bidding.  the students held their ground, and the crowd murmured nervously.  this might turn into a showdown, and it could get ugly.  however, as the stormtroopers neared, the students slowly backed away and dissolved into the crowd.

then suddenly we heard shots fired and an explosion, there were screams, and we ran.  out of the corner of my eye i saw a plume of white smoke rising up from the crowd of protesters not far away.  you always see that in movies--a BOOM and then everyone scatters, but this was the first time i'd ever experienced it.  it's the most instinctual thing in the world--you hear the shot and you're halfway down the street before your mind even realizes what your body is doing.  i sprinted past a group of police and security guards--they were running away and barricading themselves in the bus station, pulling down the metal grating to block the door.  oh great, thanks for protecting the people.

eventually, we slowed down and paused, listened.  silence.  i had no idea what had just happened.  no one did.  who had fired the shots?  was it even gunfire?  it sounded almost like a cannon, but what is this, 1812?  were people hurt?--dead?  what had catalyzed the situation from an uneasy stalemate to all-out explosions?  slowly, the chanting started up again.  we looked at each other, made a decision. "you're an idiot.  and such an adrenaline junkie," i told myself as i crept back towards the main road.

there were a few more explosions, all further off in the crowd.  we fled and returned like waves crashing and receding along the shore.  i found out later that police had fired into the crowd something called "debilitating grenades" (that's the best translation i could come up with)--apparently some kind of explosives filled with a temporarily stunning gas.  it sounds rather like tear gas.  6 people were injured--not too severely, but still.  there were similar incidents in other cities, a girl was beaten by police in medellín, etc.  but by all accounts, it was a relatively calm protest--at least as calm as a protest can be in colombia.  which was an interesting culture shock.  i've been to a lot of protests, but i'm so accustomed to the right to protest, the assurance that everything will be fine.  it was interesting to experience a protest where people were actually risking something, and coming forward anyway because they felt so strongly about the issue.