There was a demonstration tonight in Oaxaca. At 6 p.m., those marching had blocked a part of Ninos Heroes, a main road, and they were headed for the Zocalo with banners. They chanted as they walked and carried signs explaining their causes. I mention causes because every person we asked explained the reason for the march differently.
My clever Mexican cell phone which alerts me to things I do not quite understand most of the time explained: Seccion 22 del Snte marcha en la capital para comerorar matanza de Tlatelolco/Texitlan y Amoltepec firman acuerdo de paz tras 50 anos de conflicto.
From this information, I was able to research the Tlatelolco Massacre. The presence of many young student protesters made more sense when I read that this march was related to the massacre of (40-350, varying reports) student and civilian protesters by government snipers in Mexico City on October 2, 1968. The march also commemorated the murder of Heriberto Pazos Ortiz (he was killed in Oaxaca in October). And, the demonstration had some of the elements of the 99% protests as evidenced in the graffiti that appeared today announcing that bankers are rats, and that we need to neither lose nor forget the events of 10/02/68.
At one point, a group began to run. Standing on the corner of the Zocalo, I wondered if I was supposed to run, too. Why were people running? Where would be a good place for someone to run?
I did not run (though my mind was); instead, I climbed the stairs to a lovely restaurant called La Casa de Mi Abuela (I wish my grandmother had cooked like this) and watched the manifestation from the large window of the restaurant. Part of me wanted to be on the street interviewing people and asking questions; the reasonable part of me remembered the Instituto’s warning that these events are not for tourists.
shewhodaresnothing 