Saturday, December 13, 2008

Hidden Costs: U.S. Air Conditioners and Flooded Mexican Villages


Human rights organizer describing communities'
strategies to protest high electrical rates


The forum was held in a school; some drove 2 days
to attend. Most people slept on the ground in classrooms
and in the playground.



The river slated to be dammed by the La Parota
hydroelectrical project



Community radio reporters broadcasting the forum




They worked late into the night to forge strategy



Carlos Beas, from UCIZONI on Oaxaca's isthmus,
a powerful advocate against displacement caused
by megaprojects


An activist from La Parota sharing his successful story -
thus far they have stopped the dam construction


Feeding the hundreds of forum participants




Reporting back from a small group discussion


Press coverage of the forum - it made national news



More press coverage


The electrical workers union in back in solidarity
with consumers outraged over high electrical rates

Electrical union coordinator speaking with consumer
activist. Subsequent to this forum, this activist, the mother
of many children, went into hiding from the police.

Taking notes of the proceedings


Reporting back from small groups


The new community radio station


Tonio, one of the facilitators of the forum from a
Chiapas popular education organization, CIEPAC


A villager from Aguacaliente, slated to be flooded
out by the La Parota dam

Father Gabriel giving a special mass to give
strength to the anti-dam activists
Padre Gabriel working without his collar

Forum activists bathing in the river slated to be dammed



Hidden Costs: U.S. Air Conditioners and Flooded Mexican Villages
by Daniel Moss
(edited from a newsletter article for American Jewish World Service)

Would it matter to the average person in the U.S.– perhaps Joe the Plumber - if they knew that the electrical energy they use might require that entire Mexican villages, with all their cultural treasure, be flooded for a hydroelectric dam? Wait, don’t answer that question!

Unspoken truths such as: the political strife that the tantalite dug up for our cell phones causes, where the volume of electricity to power our nation’s air conditioners actually comes from, and the amount of cyanide in which our jewelry is bathed (and the number of rivers into which it is dumped) - are largely hidden from us. Here at American Jewish World Service (AJWS), we thought we might provide you with an unabashedly biased perspective on these issues from the point of view of communities whose natural resources are being mined. These insights were gleaned from a recent national forum in Mexico entitled: Water, Energy and Alternatives. Our grassroots partners – aided with your generous support - were at the very center of this timely and illuminating conversation.

Professor Octavio Rosas Landa from the Automous University of Mexico (UNAM) set the stage with a presentation of an energy matrix (“a fancy way to say, a map of how we organize energy production, distribution and consumption,” said the professor). He spoke
to a group of about 400 people – mostly small farmers who had came from as far away as 25 hours away. Participants at the forum shared a common bond: facing threats from international companies desiring their land, water and wind.

The professor walked the group through a series of charts detailing where energy and mineral resources exist around the world and what countries tends to use these resources most. It wasn’t lost on forum participants that much of Mexico’s mineral and energy resources are extracted from their rural communities and they get very little back in return.

The professor’s information, echoed by peoples’ own stories, was powerful stuff; the professors’ Powerpoint slides weren’t really necessary. That was a good thing because the slides were invisible. It wasn’t that the electricity wasn’t working, it was that the grassroots gathering was held outdoors in a rural schoolyard in Aguacaliente, Guerrero, a community slated to disappear under the rising waters of the proposed La Parota dam. The white sheet on which the data was to be displayed, weighted down with rocks so it wouldn’t sway in the wind, was bathed in sunlight.

In the eyes of the visitors that had come from afar to the forum to sleep on the hard ground under tarps in the schoolyard, La Parota’s community organization, the Council of Communities Opposed to the Parota Dam (CECOP) is an inspiration, a hero that has thus far - against long odds and not without the deaths of loved ones - held back construction of the dam.

“When we look at the energy and mineral matrix,” Landa described, “We see that sources are not evenly distributed. There needs to be negotiation between those that have the resources and those that want them.” In the case of La Parota, it hasn’t exactly felt like a fair negotiation; Acapulco wants to grab the hydroelectrical energy for its tourism trade. This fight over resources sits right at the center of some of the most prominent conflicts around the globe. Landa asked people to raise hands if they owned one of Mexico’s 62 million cell phones. The tantalite for our cell phones, “to cool them down so that they don’t explode in our ears,” Landa said, “is only found in the Congo, Burundi and Rwanda. These are not exactly peaceful places.”

What’s behind the fever to build dams in Mexico and extract its minerals? You might already have guessed; it has a lot to do with Mexico’s hungry neighbor to the north. In the U.S., there has not been a large dam built for many years. Economics and the environmental movement have prevailed to tear them down rather than construct new ones. “In the U.S., if they propose a dam, there’s nearly a riot,” Landa explained. “Energy companies look elsewhere to fulfill U.S. energy demand. Free Trade agreements like NAFTA makes that a lot easier.” Poor and marginalized indigenous communities with little political power are easy targets for the world’s energy and mineral companies.

“I never thought I’d get involved in something like this,” said Gabriel, a Catholic priest whose parish is slated to disappear either under a dam or mining rubble - the companies haven’t decided yet if the water or minerals are more valuable. “Its David versus Goliath. We have to act in solidarity with one another. Fighting for our rights is necessary – it’s what God wants – but we know it also produces tears.”

American Jewish World Service’s human rights partner, Tlanchinolan, has been providing legal support to the CECOP activists. Insult to injury to the indigenous communities pillaged for their resources is that the activists who stand up to the government and companies are often branded as terrorists and criminalized for what might be considered upstanding citizen work. Threats, imprisonment and even death are common. These was a strong feeling at the forum that the U.S. war on drugs in Mexico is a contributing factor to the violence experienced by the communities. The weaponry sent to corrupt security forces trickles down and translates into community represssion. The dynamic is similar to Colombia, a place where president-elect Barak Obama, has pledged to look into human rights violations before backing further free trade with that country.

Participants at the forum learned that Mexico exports 40% of the energy that it produces. The U.S. seeks a regionalized electrical grid, from Mexico to Colombia, to fulfill its energy appetite. Sarah Gonzales from Campeche said, “I came here upset about my high energy rates. We’re proposing a fair “social” rate. Now that I see that we’re giving up our lands and minerals to produce energy for the U.S., I’m more convinced than ever that our fight is right.”

Tlanchinolan is providing legal and organizing counsel to communities in La Montana considering a payment strike to pressure the electrical company for fair rates. Nationwide, communities are discussing the idea of dismantling their electrical meters and giving them back to Mexico’s electrical commission, the CFE. “The electrical meter is a trap; the solution is a fair price,” Gonzales continued. “Communities get their energy from a skinny cable, maybe to power just a couple of light bulbs and a TV. That doesn’t require a huge electrical network. Why are we paying more for electricity than the energy draining mining companies requiring us to build this giant electrical system in the first place?”

And just what do we get from all this resource exploitation, asked Carlos Beas, director of UCIZONI, another AJWS partner working on alternative community development in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. “We get divisions in our community. Some people agree to rent their land or else they sign papers agreeing to expropriation without even knowing what the word means. Other people are dead set against giving over their lands. The government and the companies divide up our communities and where we used to live well together, now we fight.” UCIZONI’s members are very concerned about the environmental impacts of a giant wind farm on Oaxaca’s isthmus – so much for “green” energy - that has ruined thousands of acres of agricultural land and provides them with no benefit.

“I don’t know about all this so called development”, a farmer from Chiapas said. “We give over our rivers and lands and get modernity. We get telenovelas and Walmart. What happens to all the income that Mexico makes from petroleum? They tell us its for schools and hospitals but we don’t see these improvements.”

Despite this dire panorama of politically marginalized communities fighting what they described as an “octopus” – one beast with many tentacles - there was a hopeful tenor to the discussion.

Participants saw possibilities in the alarming economic trends. What will happen to these megaprojects if economies collapse around the world?, people asked. Will so many dams be necessary if people have to cut back on buying stuff and using energy? They wondered about the implications of a new U.S. administration. Would Barak Obama stay true to his campaign promise to renegotiate the North American Free Trade Agreement? People expressed great interest in working closely with United States’ organizations like American Jewish World Service and other to follow up on this potential opening and press for possible changes. Given the political and economic changes in the air, one participant remarked, “this is the moment to raise our voices and propose alternatives”.

The entire proceedings were broadcast on a community radio station hastily cobbled together by young reporters and techies from a network of community radios present. The reporters cornered activists for impromptu interviews. Those interviewed described dozens of cases of resource pillage and what they were doing about it. Community radio is one of their powerful tools for organizing.

A shared vision among forum participants was for “autonomy” and “sovereignty”, terms that seem to have fallen out of vogue in the U.S. – our independence from Great Britain seems a long time ago. Forum participants’ proposal is to manage as much of their lives as possible locally. The idea is that it is communities themselves that know their own natural resources, ecological sensitivities, democratic processes and economic needs. The best management and governance is that which occurs closest to the end users – where decisions can be made locally. “We need to make one strong movement, without their being just one strong leader,” said a leader of CECOP. “This is a moment to manage our own lives so we don’t have to depend on the government and private companies that don’t care about us.”

The forum examined various appropriate technologies, such as wood saving stoves and drip irrigation that would allow communities to carefully manage their scarce resources. The communities reiterated their preference for indigenous forms of “use and custom” law based on their traditions rather than on political parties that have left them divided and without adequate public services. AJWS’ partners, CIEPAC and Cactus, also active participants in the forum, have been working for many years with communities to build effective local governance systems. They seek direct and highly engaged democracy.

AJWS partners participate in a new network of communities affected by mining operations, REMA. Their coordinator, Alberto Villamares, explained at the forum, “This network is really pretty simple. It’s about solidarity. This is the moment for us to support each other, to strengthen our collective work our “tequios”. This is a time when we can propose change. The mining companies are in crisis. They can’t get credit from the banks. Demand for energy and minerals will be tumbling in the coming years. Our resistance to this unsustainable model of development - that isn’t just bad for us but the whole planet - can lead to improvements for the world.”

A member of a community in Oaxaca, slated to be dug up, contributed, “When we take on a transnational mining or dam company, they call us crazy. But what else are we going to do? It took us 26 hours in the bus to get here – we got lost for a little while. It was a big sacrifice; we left kids and work behind. Our idea was to spend time with each of you, to get to know each other. If we leave here without beginning to construct our own government, if we don’t propose laws that meet our needs, we will have wasted our time.”

It’s a long process of resistance and proposal that will create a system in which a hot summer day in New York doesn’t mean that another nameless Mexican village is targeted for inundation. There are many avenues to change – new technologies and reduced consumption among them – that are urgent. But one thing that can’t wait is protection of vulnerable communities’ most basic rights to a home, to a voice, and to a means of livelihood. AJWS is proud to support this kind of societal progress that puts the least among us first.



















Stretching Scarce Water Into a Public Commons


Permaculture site created by the Oaxacan
Institute for Nature and Society (INSO), storing
water for irrigation and soil conservation



Participants at the Oaxacan water forum


Government official being held to account

Stretching Scarce Water Into a Public Commons

It’s a mighty challenge to ensure that a growing city has enough drinking water when it’s bone dry 8 months a year. The Atoyac River flows the length of the Oaxaca valley – it was the source of life for the great Zapotec city of Monte Alban and one of the earliest agricultural civilizations on earth. Today it’s a stinky trickle, its riparian banks a garbage dump.

The Oaxacan Institute for Nature and Society (INSO) has taken on the challenge of returning the Atoyac watershed to its splendor. This is a gargantuan task of local democracy, negotiating interests of upstream indigenous villages, beer bottlers, municipal water authorities, environmentalists and water consumers – just to name a few principal “stakeholders”.

With some regularity, the INSO convenes these stakeholders in a public forum to discuss problems and solutions. Indigenous authorities describe pirate loggers felling trees on their communal lands, accelerating deforestation. Others complain of the ineptitude of government officials in prosecuting environmental crimes. And still others bemoan the ailing water infrastructure through which upwards of 60% of piped water is lost.

A point on which they all agree is that water is a linchpin of our shared commons – resources shared by all for generations to come. Water is not a commodity to be sold for private gain. It is our creative puzzle to figure out how to create equitable community-led systems of water conservation and distribution. Folks at the forum wrestled with this challenge.

The meeting was held in a permaculture demonstration site. Permaculture is a system design tool to:

look at a whole system or problem;
observe how the parts relate;
mend sick systems by applying ideas learnt from long-term sustainable working systems including agroecology;
see connections between key elements (parts).


Just below the open air meeting room was a tiny dam stretched across a deep and narrow gulch. The little reservoir offered water for irrigation at the same time as it increased the soil's water absorption and managed downstream flow to slow erosion caused by flash floods. It’s just this kind of local experimentation – within a regional political process – that will preserve water as a commons for all.

Stella - One Happy Dog










Santiago Apoala - Where Water and the Mixtecos are born


on the far end of the narrow canyon up towards Tierra Colorada

Mixteco glyphs in Apoala's library picturing the
birth of the Mixteco when two trees intertwined
by the riverside and spawned the first Mixteco people






Spanish moss and cactus steepness

Gathered seeds to bead into jewelry


Sabina and Talia around the fire on a chilly night

Apoala has a modest eco tourism infrastructure,
here is their cafeteria

No end of rocks to climb


Stella pilfering the fire logs
Two butterflies


Talia wasted after a hike to the waterfall



Stella emerging from the vapor

Subterranean water is born in Apoala in a cave and
gains force as it heads downstream. The Mixteca region,
in which Apoala sits, is famous for awful soils and alarming
out-migration. Apoala's abundant water is the exception to the rule.







A remarkable campground


Tailgate party in the early morn - coffee not beer










Apoala's municipal building - the mayor gave us
permission to use their compressor to fix our flat tire

We were invited to play basketball. Brian towered
over them; Daniel fit in a bit better.