Cancun Dispatch: 9/5

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The city has thoroughly sprayed the whole area against mosquitos, nevertheless there are more mosquitos biting us than I have yet encountered in Cancun. A group of us hop another taxi to go meet with the Pagans. On the way, I get caught by a journalist for a short interview and realize that I can barely speak English any more, let alone think of snappy ways to express why we don't like the WTO. I'm about ready to settle for: "It's really bad, they do bad things, we don't like them." But I am able to dredge up some actual facts and statistics about lost jobs and agricultural subsidies, and even a moment of rather sweat-soaked, sodden, exhausted inspiration about the actions.

The group is eating at the local restaurant, and there's a whole lot of us, with Pagans and Green Bloc and Australians altogether. A local vendor comes by making an unearthly noise, as if a giant cat or parrot or monkey were screaming at the top of their lungs. It turns out he is selling little plastic instruments you put in your mouth and blow through, kind of like a kazoo. Lisa gets all excited, jumps up and starts bargaining for a whole lot of them to use in actions. We share them around, adding to the general noise level. Erik and some of the Green Bloc are eating inside, exhausted but happy, and very pleased with the press the eco-village has already received. We've moved the media here from calling us "globofobicos/globophobics", to "globocriticos" to "globopropositos" -- those proposing a new globalization. "They want a world in which people control their own water, food supplies, and energy," one article says. The eco-village has already been a great achievement -- instead of articles focusing only on security arrangements and broken windows, we've given them a positive vision to talk about, and a vista of gringos and Mexicans, punks and local citizens, all working together.

Finally our restaurant group decides to just hang out and meet later for a ritual in one of the side parks to the Parque Palapas. About 15 of us gather in a circle, including a couple of our Mexican friends who have joined us. We breathe together and ground and sink our roots down, and sing in the elements in Spanish: "Tierra mi cuerpo, Agua mi sangre, Aire mi aliento, y fuego mi espiritu."

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