When everything is calm here below, there is a storm in the mountains, he said after inhaling. The mountain streams run strongly and flow toward the riverbed. During the rainy season this river becomes fierce, like a whip, like an earthquake. Its power doesnt come from the rain that falls on its banks, but from the mountain streams that flow down to feed it. By destroying everything in its path, the river reconstructs the land. Its waters will become corn, beans and bread on our tables here in the jungle. Our struggle is the same. It was born in the mountains, but its effects wont be seen until it arrives here below. He responded to my question about whether he believed the time had come for war by saying, Now is the time for the river to change color. . . Old Antonio quieted and supported himself on my shoulder. We returned to the village slowly. He said to me, You are the mountain streams and we are the river. You must descend now. The silence continued and we arrived to his shack as it was growing dark. The younger Antonio returned with the official result of the meeting, an announcement that read, more or less, We, the men, women and children of this village met in the communitys school in order to see if we believed in our hearts that it time to go to war for our freedom. We divided ourselves into three groups, one of men, one of women, and one of children to discuss the matter. Later, we came together again and it was seen that the majority believed that it was time to go to war because Mexico is being sold to foreigners and the people are always hungry. Twelve men, twenty-three women and eight children were in favor of beginning the war and have signed this announcement. I left the village in the early morning hours. @Randy Gould
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 03:56:54 +0000
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