Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Day 12!
I was just about to slip into the shower this morning at 6:45 a.m. when I heard loud knocking on our hotel door. I opened it, and Giselle, one of the students, said, "The police are bombing the teachers with tear gas." She had a wild look in her eyes, and they were tearing. I told Blair what she said and grabbed my list of students and their room numbers to alert them of the situation. I told them to stay in their rooms until things calmed down. The students whose rooms were on the top floor knew that something was going on already. They had their windows open, and the tear gas had come into their rooms.
My eyes were watering and stinging from being out in the front and back courtyards. The gentleman who was in charge of the reception desk overnight told me to wet a towel and keep it over my nose and eyes. I went back upstairs, and many of the students had gathered on the top of the hotel to watch what was going on. The makeshift tents the teachers had built had been destroyed. We saw the state police dressed in dark uniforms with billy clubs and face shields. We saw the teachers on the streets, corraled together. We saw helicopters, state police and media, flying overhead. (The police helicopter was dropping tear gas.) Our students were busy taking digital photos and video. A camera crew from Bolivia was also in our hotel, and they recommended that we stop taking pictures and video...that it was a provocation. At that moment, I realized we were not in America, and we needed to be extra careful. I was afraid the police would come and confiscate our cameras, so I told the students to get off the roof. Meanwhile, we already had plenty of photos and video of the situation.
The receptionist was very accomodating and opened the owner's office, which had a computer with Internet access, so we could mail out our photos. (I figured if they were going to take our cameras, we could at least e-mail the photos for safekeeping.) We sent Bob Rivard, managing editor of the San Antonio Express-News, 16 digital photos. We did not send any video because it took too long to download.
Meanwhile, the owner of the hotel, Alberto Perez Mariscal, arrived with breakfast: fruit, cereal, bread, ham, cheese, and milk. And, there was plenty of coffee. It was very nice of him, because we could not leave the hotel. Tear gas continued to fill the hotel's courtyards and seep into the rooms. Alberto spoke with the sub-secretary of tourism for the state of Oaxaca, Jorge Adrian Gutierrez Martinez, who also owns a hotel 10 blocks away from the center of town. Alberto recommended that we move to Alberto's hotel, because all of the businesses, including restaurants, were closed downtown, and it didn't look like things were blowing over. If we stayed at La Casa de La Tia, we would basically be trapped in the hotel. So, we packed up, leaving the things we'd brought for the orphanage behind, and headed to Jorge's hotel, Posada El Cid.
I must say that it was a little nerve-wracking--okay, very nerve-wracking--to be out in the open, because there were still helicopters flying overhead. (We all carried a towel to place over our nose and mouth, if more tear gas was dropped.) And, there were still teachers and state police in the streets. Everyone kept their cool, though, and we proceeded to walk the 10 blocks. When we left La Casa de La Tia, I remarked that it sort of felt like the final scene in "The Sound of Music" where Maria and the Captain are fleeing Austria with their family in tow.
You could see that there had been fighting. Rocks, which had been thrown, were strewn on the streets. Planters had been tipped over. We saw two buses that had their windows broken out and their tires slashed. As we proceeded down the streets, I noticed a couple of teachers with machetes and metal pipes moving in the direction opposite from us. I was glad that we were leaving downtown, because it appeared that things were only going to get more violent. As we neared a park, we saw teachers parading down the street, chanting. It doesn't seem like they are backing down, and word on the street is that teachers from other Mexican states, especially Guerrero and Chiapas, are coming in to offer their support.
We made it to Jorge's hotel, which is very nice, and we had a pow-wow to discuss which areas were safe to walk around in. He told us about nearby restaurants and cybercafes. We left the hotel to grab a bite to eat and write in our blogs. We're meeting tonight at 7 p.m. with our Oaxaca contact, Ana Maria de la Luz Rodriguez Jimenez, to talk about our options.
We're all safe, though, and I'm very proud of our group. No one lost their heads, and we acted quickly. This is probably the first study abroad that the ACCD had sponsored where students were tear gassed. We'll definitely have stories to share when we get back. Meanwhile, we want to learn just what the real story is. Is the state government not meeting the teachers' and students' needs? Or, are the teachers demanding too much? We'll try to find out.
My eyes were watering and stinging from being out in the front and back courtyards. The gentleman who was in charge of the reception desk overnight told me to wet a towel and keep it over my nose and eyes. I went back upstairs, and many of the students had gathered on the top of the hotel to watch what was going on. The makeshift tents the teachers had built had been destroyed. We saw the state police dressed in dark uniforms with billy clubs and face shields. We saw the teachers on the streets, corraled together. We saw helicopters, state police and media, flying overhead. (The police helicopter was dropping tear gas.) Our students were busy taking digital photos and video. A camera crew from Bolivia was also in our hotel, and they recommended that we stop taking pictures and video...that it was a provocation. At that moment, I realized we were not in America, and we needed to be extra careful. I was afraid the police would come and confiscate our cameras, so I told the students to get off the roof. Meanwhile, we already had plenty of photos and video of the situation.
The receptionist was very accomodating and opened the owner's office, which had a computer with Internet access, so we could mail out our photos. (I figured if they were going to take our cameras, we could at least e-mail the photos for safekeeping.) We sent Bob Rivard, managing editor of the San Antonio Express-News, 16 digital photos. We did not send any video because it took too long to download.
Meanwhile, the owner of the hotel, Alberto Perez Mariscal, arrived with breakfast: fruit, cereal, bread, ham, cheese, and milk. And, there was plenty of coffee. It was very nice of him, because we could not leave the hotel. Tear gas continued to fill the hotel's courtyards and seep into the rooms. Alberto spoke with the sub-secretary of tourism for the state of Oaxaca, Jorge Adrian Gutierrez Martinez, who also owns a hotel 10 blocks away from the center of town. Alberto recommended that we move to Alberto's hotel, because all of the businesses, including restaurants, were closed downtown, and it didn't look like things were blowing over. If we stayed at La Casa de La Tia, we would basically be trapped in the hotel. So, we packed up, leaving the things we'd brought for the orphanage behind, and headed to Jorge's hotel, Posada El Cid.
I must say that it was a little nerve-wracking--okay, very nerve-wracking--to be out in the open, because there were still helicopters flying overhead. (We all carried a towel to place over our nose and mouth, if more tear gas was dropped.) And, there were still teachers and state police in the streets. Everyone kept their cool, though, and we proceeded to walk the 10 blocks. When we left La Casa de La Tia, I remarked that it sort of felt like the final scene in "The Sound of Music" where Maria and the Captain are fleeing Austria with their family in tow.
You could see that there had been fighting. Rocks, which had been thrown, were strewn on the streets. Planters had been tipped over. We saw two buses that had their windows broken out and their tires slashed. As we proceeded down the streets, I noticed a couple of teachers with machetes and metal pipes moving in the direction opposite from us. I was glad that we were leaving downtown, because it appeared that things were only going to get more violent. As we neared a park, we saw teachers parading down the street, chanting. It doesn't seem like they are backing down, and word on the street is that teachers from other Mexican states, especially Guerrero and Chiapas, are coming in to offer their support.
We made it to Jorge's hotel, which is very nice, and we had a pow-wow to discuss which areas were safe to walk around in. He told us about nearby restaurants and cybercafes. We left the hotel to grab a bite to eat and write in our blogs. We're meeting tonight at 7 p.m. with our Oaxaca contact, Ana Maria de la Luz Rodriguez Jimenez, to talk about our options.
We're all safe, though, and I'm very proud of our group. No one lost their heads, and we acted quickly. This is probably the first study abroad that the ACCD had sponsored where students were tear gassed. We'll definitely have stories to share when we get back. Meanwhile, we want to learn just what the real story is. Is the state government not meeting the teachers' and students' needs? Or, are the teachers demanding too much? We'll try to find out.
