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Life on the farm is good

It is where mankind began

It is where mankind will return


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Saturday, July 4, 2009

La Lucha

My struggle to help Hondurans has led me down many paths...

I can not help to think what if...
What if President Mel Zelaya was allowed to change the Honduran Constitution...
What if the Hondurans had agreed to let Zelaya be president for another four years...

The United States is against Hugo Chavez...
The rich are against Chavez...
This is clear...
ALBA threatened US interests...

Zeleya should have not let Chavez insult Honduras...
Things could have been different today...

Man can lead his people towards a better tomorrow without insults...
I know...

But they should have not thrown the president out of Honduras like a dog...
I know...
I too was thrown out of Honduras like a dog...

I dedicate "La Lucha" to our Honduran farm associates...

~

This is a piece I wrote in response to Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos...
The Mexican leader of the Zapatistas'...

inspired by marcos and zapatista...
to my fellow americans who look the other way...

~

LA LUCHA

fantastic words marcos...
ahhh...
the penguin...
fantastic...
the struggle...
la lucha...
how long must the indigenous struggle...
your words ring true to me...
yo...
el gringo...

married to the daughter of a honduran campesino...
my struggle for the people has taught me much my friend...

honduran jail time...
together with my contra friends...
in a jail cell 6.5 X 6.5...
22 of us in this hole...
not forgetting immigration man...
ismael...
as he handcuffed me...
boasted to the crowd how he had captured el gringo tomas...
how ismael stopped the truck at every bridge telling me he was going to throw me in the river...
his partners laughing...
my hands numb from the handcuffs...
not forgetting how they jailed my then wife with me...
as we slept on the wood jail floor in juticalpa...
not forgetting how immigration man ismael...
at gun point...
used my then wife as a shield to get me on the helicopter...

another night from my jail cell in tegucigalpa...
after the guards had thrown buckets of water on the 22 of us...
a jail cell 6.5 X 6.5...
another cell began to sing a song in protest...
another cell with street girls began to cry...
then sing...
soon all cells were singing the same song...
we sang as one...
we sang loud as we shook the jail bars...
the singing of many scared the guards and captain to the streets...
soon many more guards arrived to surround our building...
we sang even louder...
for a moment we owned the jail...

my illegal honduran deportation...
handcuffed...
forced on a plane at gun point...
as i watched my then wife cry through a window...
her small hands on the window...
her wave...
adios...
still wearing my rubber boots from the jungle...
the stares from the passengers...
the way the stewardess treated me...
the captain asked me what i had done...
i said this is what they do to those who help your country...
sir...
the captain shouted to the stewardess to feed me at once...
as much as i could eat...
as he walked away he said he was sorry...
i later fought to have my deportation pardoned...
it was...
i returned...

hondurans shot me 5 times...
they killed my friend victor...
they shot enrique as well...
"you americans live like kings in our country
but you treat us like pigs in yours."
i refused to die...
i returned to the patuca people...

hurricane mitch left thousands standing on the patuca riverbanks...
but...
i will never forget the spirit of the patuca people...
there was a time we dreamed of a better tomorrow together...
la lucha...
we moved 4 million pounds of hurricane mitch aid through the patuca jungle...
on the backs of women...
men...
and children...
with mules...
ox carts...
dug out canoes...
as they raised their new homes i gave them a roof...
they no longer having to sleep under plastic...
they planted the new frijole and corn seed...
they fertilized the land...
they planted the platanos...
they slept on new bedding...
gave medicine to the children...
cooked with new pots...
wore the new clothing...
with picks..
hoes...
and shovels...
we rebuilt roads...
with machetes we rebuilt bridges...
so the help could continue...
yo...
el gringo...

amazed at what man can do when he believes...
we watched as our funds were stolen in the name of God...
we watched as cattlemen fought with me to steal grains to feed their pig farms...
we watched as the honduran politicians...
nervous with my movement..
betrayed us to stop me...
yo...
el gringo...

we watched as opportunist's within indigenous groups...
traitors to their people...
lied to the outside world about me...
we watched as they defamed me in a honduran newspaper...
we watched as chose who claim to walk with God...
lied as well...
so many lies...
the poor suffered from these lies...
i watched as the fury against me reached its peak...
honduran police pointed M16's at my wife...
my name slandered as headline news...
the death threats to me...
only because i wanted to help the campesino and indigenous....
i have no regrets...
yo...
el gringo...

i was there when my father in law...
enrique...
stood his ground on campesino land the military had robbed during the contra war...
his group won the land back...
la lucha..

the struggle...
the poor mean very little to the world marcos...
my shout for the rio patuca people has become only noise in the wind...
the honduran people have been beaten down...
they will not fight...
they only flee to america...
that is their way perhaps...
the rio patuca indigenous continue to lose their lands to the rich...
you must never stop shouting marcos...
perhaps not all want to flee.
yet protect those who fight with you marcos...
even if he is a gringo...

~ Tomas



2 comments:

  1. Beautifully written. Many thanks for it Tomas. Many thanks...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you amigo...

    It is an intoxication...
    Pure life on the edge...

    I have outlived most of my detractors...

    You are welcome...

    We are the last of the True Adventurer's...

    ReplyDelete

I will not allow comments that are are lies...