Yucatan Diary- Day 2
January 4, 2005
by Ben White
posted 01/11/05
Long day- 15 hours on the road. Yesterday I drove as far as is possible east along the coast road that runs intermittently across the top of the Yucatan peninsula, from Progreso to De Colores, stopping at each little fishing village to put up my alertas and talk to fishermen.
Imagine it- on my left is a narrow beach strip with, at first fancy homes, then poor villages. On my right is endless mangroves. The perpetual ocean wind rolls across the road thick with the smell of the swamp- salt, rot, and fecundity. Frigate birds sail above, stark narrow commas with nary a flap. At one point I notice a pink smear against the dark trees above the water, stop the car and pull out my binoculars. Sure enough- hundreds of conch-pink flamingos. Plus great white herons, cara cara birds overhead, white pelicans, and clusters of ibises in the trees. The whole area looks like the Everglades did once long ago. Absolutely precious and irreplaceable. And it runs the entire length of the top of the Yucatan.
This time out I refined my sales technique a little. Coming into a village, I hit the little markets and chatted up the storekeepers, the nerve centers of the communities. Then I posted some of the Alertas on the telephone poles. Worked like a charm. I realized that one of the reasons that I am enjoying so much this most basic of grassroots activism is that it gives me a legitimate reason to approach these people who would normally be a little reserved being approached by the likes of me.
I walked into one place as the man was reading today´s Por Esto. When I started telling him about the brochure he lit up and said Oh, I was just reading about this. - and turned the paper over to the picture of our Monday press conference with Rosario, my colleague in Merida, and I pontificating from behind a table. Thus enshrined by the press, I was suddenly a rock star.
Another place- a tough old man sits in a dark corner of his store, his fisherman´s face all sun leathered and wrinkled. I shake his gnarled fisherman´s hand and give him a flyer. And he jumps up, tells me to wait for a minute, walks into a back room and brings back a very tidy manila file and opens it against the counter. Inside appears to be every article written about the Maurice Ewing in Mexican papers for the last year or so. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He then thanked me profusely for standing up for the pueblos in fighting this monster, grabbed my hand with both of his and asked for a bunch more of the flyers that he could pass out to everyone.
Unbelievably, the next stop was even better. I was working a zocalo- a village square, passing out the sheet and talking to fishermen. With one sheet left, I spied the local cop leaning against a pole talking to a middle-aged man. Thinking that I should give him one of the papers to let him know what I was up to, I approached the two of them and started my spiel. The middle aged man introduced himself as Victor, the local school superintendent. Would I be willing to talk to the kids at school? he asked. Sure, I said. When? Anytime you say, I replied. How about right now? he asked. Vamanos, y mucho gracias a usted, I answered.
Minutes later we were at the school. Victor introduces me to the principal and calls all of the kids to crowd into one classroom. The teacher looks less than thrilled about Victor taking over his class but the kids are happy about something new happening. About a hundred packed the room with about fifty more giggling and shoving at the windows looking in.
I gave my speech, which was then elaborated on by Victor, who primarily seemed to be interested that anyone could actually make a living doing what I was. Indeed, I too am surprised and thank my lucky stars that it is so. Turns out the kids are the children of fishermen. All of them were especially interested that we were asking for their help to let us know if any stranded creatures wash up; that we need them to be "our eyes" along the coast.
Now just about every single fishing village from Celestun on the west coast of the top of the Yucatan all the way to De Colores have been papered by the flyers and at least some of the people have eagerly taken the flyers. Every single person I talked to thinks this seismic test is a bad idea being pushed by arrogant scientists with the collusion of bought-off governments. Unh huh.
Much of this coast is an ecological preserve. The villages of De Colores and Rio Lagartos are smack in the middle of the mangroves and a big biosphere preserve with signs up everywhere to not dump oil or cut trees or shoot birds (and on how to avoid Dengue fever by controlling the mosquitoes). Many make parts of their living taking tourists out in their little boats to see the crocodiles, flamingoes and other swamp life. But all agree the fishing is just not what it was, and often the boats go out and return with only a handful of fish.
Now for the news, the rumors and the baloney flying about the imminent arrival of the Maurice Ewing. It appears that there are now serious concerns about this seismic study within the Yucatan government, at a time when the federal government is increasingly considered out of step with the states. Turns out that there is one more stamped document remaining that the ship does not have. There may in fact be a way to stop this legally through the maze of Mexican courts. So today we scurry to do whatever we might on that front.
Now it is said that the testing may not begin Saturday after all. Apparently there is substantial concern now that with an alerted coastal population, there will most likely be bodies found that will make the whole thing very embarrassing. The attempt is being made to pretend that this is all a study by Mexican scientists but the truth about the heavy U.S. involvement in the ownership and financing of the ship and the cruise, is coming out.
Today we meet in Merida to plan strategy, see if we can find a volunteer pilot who won´t charge us $700 for two hours of aerial surveillance, see if any local Mexican folks want to jump in the water in front of the ship with me, and making sure the fishing boat that we are renting is ready to go when necessary.
If any of you good people know anyone who might like to help finance this effort, we could use it. Any donation to AWI is tax deductible. I estimate that it will take about $15,000 to pull off this campaign, if we are lucky. That comes out to less than a dollar per whale and dolphin that the ship has a permit to "take".
Thanks to all for your help, for your prayers and for giving a damn.
Love and Revolution,
Ben
Yucatan Diary Day 3
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