Out with the old, In with the new

December 1, 2010…just another day in history; unless, that is, you live in Oaxaca. In Oaxaca, this date marks the inauguration of the new state governor—an important event on two levels. First, it repesents the departure of a governor who has been responsible for more disappearances, deaths, brutality, fraud and corruption than any other (this side of the Guatemalan border, that is). Ulises Ruiz (or URO as he is not so affectionately called) came to power in 2004 in a fraudulent election and, since that time, gained notoriety for the absolute impunity with which he repressed his own populace. This repression and impunity reached its public apex in 2006, when URO cracked down on teachers occupying Oaxaca’s main square and then redoubled that violence on the rest of the populace that came out in their defense. However, over the past four years, he has managed to find myriad other ways of diverting state funds, persecuting indigenous communities who have stood against him, and using paramilitary forces to dispose of other political enemies. So, if nothing else, today was important for FINALLY putting an end to his regime.

The inauguration was also important for another reason as well—namely, it is the first time in 80 years that a non PRI (the ruling party in Mexico) candidate has won state elections. That’s right, while in Mexico City the ruling party lost power to the PAN several years ago, in Oaxaca there has ostensibly been no other party in town until now. Rather than running on the traditional opposition party ticket, Gabino Cue led a coalition of parties (left and center) to effect his resounding defeat of URO. Cue’s governership thus truly represents a historic end and a new beginning.

You can imagine, then, how intense the celebration was. Although I almost hate to make the comparison for fear of damning the new regime, it was what many of us experienced as the “Obama moment.” Remember that moment when we felt that change was finally here and anything was possible? (Seems long ago now, but one cynical graffiti artist clearly saw the connection.) So, we decided to get ourselves in the middle of the festivities today and see just how Oaxacans would respond. To begin, there was a huge march of near 70,000 people who gathered to demand that URO be tried and held accountable for all of his crimes. Simply leaving office was not enough of a punishment for his impunity. All over town, graffiti repeated this refrain: “URO assassin” and “URO go to jail.” This graffiti appeared overnight and lined the better part of the historic center of town near the Zocalo, thus greeting the many thousands of marchers who entered town today.

Next, we had to gawk a bit at the reception forming at what was once the National Palace on the zocalo (and, thanks to URO, was turned into a museum to avoid public demonstrations in the plaza). It was fun to watch the beautiful people converge there—men in suits and women dressed in elegant dresses or orange (Gabino’s colors) scarves. They all hugged, smiled, and pestered the doorman until he found their names on the exclusive guest list before letting them into the party. Along the sidewalk, everyday Oaxacans also gathered both to watch the party forming and to catch a glimpse of the star of the party—the newly sworn in governor. The excitement was palpable, confirming both Gabino’s celebrity status and the general populace’s elation.

By about 12:30, we found that the marchers had begun to enter the zocalo and fill the place quickly. Interestingly, tons of people (many more than normal) could be seen sitting and reading the newspaper (to catch the historic news, no doubt), and the zocalo cafes were lined with weathy Oaxacanites who also wanted to watch the festivities; in other words, this wasn’t just a popular class party, but something of which all social classes felt themselves to be a part. After a few moments of watching and listening to the speakers from various social organizations, we beat a somewhat hurried retreat to the margins, sensing that the crowd was slowly closing in. And we were right. By 1:00, the entire zocalo was packed tight with people, the marchers organized into their regional or organizational groups and filling out forms to record their presence, or simply seeking a shady refuge from the hot midday sun. The finishing touches on a huge stage were being made to house the evening’s planned concert by Margarita La Diosa de la Cumbia. The scene was clearly set for an eventful eve.

So, after a quick afternoon of homework and dinner, we headed back over to the zocalo to observe the scene. As anticipated, the place was absolutely packed, and the festivities spread over several city blocks. Every mobile drink and snack cart in Oaxaca seemed to be parked near the zocalo to accommodate the many-thousand-strong audience. We broke into the crowd and pushed our way forward to the front of the cathedral, where we at least had a good view of the two large screens on each side of the stage. It was mostly on these screens that we watched and heard the words of the governor-elect, Gabino Cue, as he came to thank the crowd in person and entreat them to work with him to create real change in Oaxaca. A true sense of jubilation and affection seemed to mark the crowd’s response. As if to punctuate the emotion, his words were followed by the initiation of a major two-fold pyrotechnical display. First, there was the big structure of firecrackers that we’d seen being constructed earlier in the day. That elaborate structure ran through each of its myriad fuses to illuminate a welcome message for Cue, all without burning a single on-looker (which was no easy feat given that it was maybe 50 feet away from us, and only a few feet from the closest audience member). Then, these firecrackers were followed by the big guns—a full-fledged, heavy-duty firework display, also set off from an intimate distance of about 100 feet from us. I can truly say I have never experience fireworks quite like this. To give you a sense why, at one point Josh turned to the girls and said, “Make sure you don’t get any fireworks in your eyes.” That comment may sound silly, but it was a logical statement given that these babies were exploding above us at an unheard-of proximity, coming right down on us. Indeed, a few flaming pieces of fireworks DID come down and land on some unfortunate soul’s head or clothes close by. We were thankful to not to be the kind who uses flammable hairsprays, perfumes, or vinyl jackets at this point in time. All joking aside, it was really a fantastic display.

Following the fireworks, we joined others in enjoying a long evening of music from regional and national singers. However by about 9:30, we had begun to tire and realized that the main event of the night—the tropical music diva, Margarita—was probably still several hours away. We returned home weary, but happy to have been a part of this historic moment.