The Women’s March and Lucha Libre.
Sunday March 8
Much slower and easier going day today, on my last day here. In the early morning, Rachel and I took a walk through El Llano Park, which was kind of jumping, with two large dance groups at different parts of the park each playing loud music while group members danced along, and a small band of military cadets practicing their drill. I guess you might find something like this in Central Park, for instance, but here it is a completely normal part of everyday life, pretty much in the center of the community. It is a different cultural environment.
On our way back through the park, Rachel took a few moments to join in with the salsa dancing group.
After LLano, we continued walking the lovely morning streets, heading downtown to the November 20 market. These streets are gorgeous.
As neared the town center, we saw the preparations for the International Women’s Day March later today. The annual march in Oaxaca can get violent, at least with respect to significant damage and even fire setting to property, buildings, store fronts, and vehicles. Rachel pointed to stores that had just boarded up their windows with plywood for the day, or were in the process of doing so, and the Zócalo gazebo and buildings that lined the plaza were being surrounded by heavy and high metal barriers.
We made only a short visit the market, and heading toward home with Rachel yearning for a shrimp taco at a favorite place. I agree – we ate there, in a lovely covered courtyard, and the the shrimp tacos were indeed extra delicious.
And then home, after about 4 hours or so of walking about. We hung around at home a while, each doing our stuff (I blogged) and around 4:30 we headed back downtown for Lucha Libre – Mexican professional wrestling – at the Arena San Francisco at 5:30. By now, the police presence was much heavier as we worked our way toward the Zócalo en route to the arena. We saw growing crowds ahead, and then saw fire fighters smashing down one of the wooden barriers in front of a building as there was a fire inside, smoke pouring out.
Once we entered the Zócalo area, where the march was at its most dense by now, with thousands in the square, and thousands of women wearing purple, the official color of International Women’s Day. There we saw marchers using heavy pick hammers to break down wooden barriers in front of buildings, and actually attempting to set them on fire with a blow torch. I lifted my camera to take a couple of photos, but I was approached by a couple of women and told not to. After all, I would be taking photos of a crime in progress.
Frankly, I felt nervous taking photos at all. This seemed like a volatile scene. As Rachel and I worked our way through the densely packed plaza, walking in the thick of the crowd, I definitely felt concerned. Had I been on my own, I would have avoided walking through the center of the crowd, but Rachel took my hand, wanting to make it clear I was with her, my bodyguard.
What I really don’t understand is — not the anger at gender-based sexual and other violence, or the failure or inability of the authorities to do anything about it, and not the spirit of the protest itself, especially as Oaxaca has a strong history of street protests and community action — but the violence and destruction, which in the case of the march is intentional, planned for, and expected. This is not a spontaneous riot, where things can easily get out of control, but a planned protest where there is an expectation of violence, although perhaps not directed against individuals. These are people who live and work here, attacking and damaging their own community stores, properties, and businesses. What happens the next day when they return to their regular lives? I really don’t get that, and it makes me very uncomfortable.
Then we were through the crowd and headed down toward the arena, which, it turns out, is really not an arena at all, but is instead a large hall set up with a wrestling ring in the center surrounded by folding chairs. The excitement was thick in the air, though, as people took their seats and waited in anticipation. Mostly local folks, there were also many gringos like us scattered among the seats.
Then comes the MC, and he’s really working the crowd, also bringing out the ref, and finally introducing the first bout, which I think was really a warmup match for the audience. Who can tell, though? It’s great entertainment, but everything is designed to engage and interact with the audience, who are just waiting to be engaged. It’s a two-way relationship. The wrestlers are there to pump up the spectators, and the audience reactions pump up the wrestlers. I grew up with wrestling like this, without the masks that is, although back then it was argue that the wrestling was real, and not staged and choreographed, and now it’s clear to all that is the case.
That’s not to suggest there’s no skill here, as there is a great deal of skills, and particularly in acrobatic and gymnastic moves, and intense training is involved. These are skilled athletes, and it quite possible to actually get seriously hurt, no matter how choreographed the fight may be. And here, with the theatricality of it, and the traditional Lucha Libre masks, it is fun and engaging. The masks are the hallmark of Lucha Libre , and historically Lucha Libre wrestlers never remove their masks when in the wrestler personna.
And now, with the crowd cheering and yelling in anticipation and in support of their favorite wrestlers, let the games proceed.
These are professional wrestlers, but, for some at least, they may be working their way into the larger circuit through appearing in the venue tonight. Although there was a great deal of impressive acrobatics and skilled timing, there was also a strong air of amateurism. The choreography was often absolutely clear, with fighters clearly positioning themselves for the next moves, such as taking falls and throwing punches that were pre-designed, where you can see the setup for pre-planned moves, and the wrestlers were often too slow to execute maneuvers seamlessly. At times, wrestlers seemed to be getting into position to be assaulted by their opponent, as well as helping their opponent pull off the move. Almost like watching a stage magician pull off all the tricks, but doing so in a way that made the trick obvious to the audience. Still, it was fun and the audience loved it, and especially when the wrestlers left or got thrown out of the ring.
I enjoyed the spectacle and the theatrics, and marveled at some of the gymnastics, but I was ready to leave after the second match. Rachel has more endurance than me, but she was also ready to leave after the third bout, when the intermission began.
Then it was home, the end of my final day in Oaxaca. Off the Tehuacan by bus tomorrow. Adios, Oaxaca.