"Airport"

Salí del guesthouse a las 5 de la mañana, cuidando de no pisar al recepcionista que dormía en un "tendido" junto al pie de la escalera. Dormí poco y mal. En parte por miedo a perder el vuelo, y en parte porque durante las modestas dos horas y media que me quedaron para descansar después de haber empacado, me despertaron diferentes ruidos constantemente. Creo que escuché en dos ocasiones que alguien salía -o entraba- aceleradamente, como en mitad de una pelea, o huyendo de algo. También estuvo presente el canto de los monjes budistas del monasterio del otro lado de la calle. Hace unos días había estado en el monasterio durante la ceremonia vespertina y me había sentido infinitamente afortunada de estar ahí, como única espectadora, haciendo una torpe flor de loto en el fondo del templo, mientras los monjes adolescentes entonaban sus plegarias. Con la ceremonia de las 4 de la mañana no me sentí tan afortunada.

Afuera todo era silencio y oscuridad. Había un tuk tuk estacionado del otro lado de la calle, sin conductor. Un hombre salió de la penumbra y se acercó a mí. En voz apenas audible dijo, no preguntó, dijo, "airport". Yo contesté "are you Mr. Teng?" -me habían dicho que así se llamaría el conductor. Él repitió, un poco más alto esta vez "airport". Y luego yo, ayudándolo, "yes, yes, you are Mr. Teng, right?". Él se rió como toda respuesta y zanjó la conversación tomándome del brazo y guiándome hacia el tuk tuk. Lo seguí.

Where the journey starts

So I find myself jobless, after 5 years of living in New York City and working there as an international lawyer for 4 years. As a foreigner, you know you are not supposed to be in a country unless you have good reason to (i.e. tourism, work). I assessed the situation and concluded there was no point in keeping paying for my apartment in Hell's Kitchen unless I had a job. True, I could have gotten a job and so being able to pay the rent and everything else, but I didn't have much time, and also...

I love NYC. I truly deeply madly do. In NYC, I felt the sense of belonging for the first time. In reality, everyone belongs in New York City. I arrived with almost nothing and left with almost everything. You really can work your way in the city if you are resilient and tough and keep an open heart and an open mind. I realized how much I could accomplish by myself, and only by myself, in a place where nobody knew me or my family. But I didn't see myself settling down in New York. I had started to yearn more and more for a tad more tranquil life. One that included an actual house as opposed to a tiny apartment, a car that you can park wherever you want, a little less of noise and stress; for a city where I could eventually have kids in. Not that I'm any close to doing that. But most importantly...

Donde todo comenzó

Una niña pequeña que lleva zapatos de tacón y que tropieza. No es que le queden grandes. No son los zapatos de su mamá, son los suyos, a su medida, a la medida de esos pies flacos y alargados y con tanto arco que son más bien vacío que pie. Unos deditos por aquí, un talón por allá.

Tampoco es que tropiece porque le falte equilibrio, que equilibrio tiene suficiente y hasta de más. Como si en lugar de piernas tuviera varas de bambú, de ésas que según el proverbio se doblan pero no se rompen, o los pilares de una catedral. Como si más que caminar flotara o se deslizara. Como si la punta de su cabeza fuera tirada con dulzura hacia arriba por una mano invisible o un hilo invisible, un hilo invisible y claramente muy largo, cuyo otro extremo estuviera en las manos de un ángel aunque la niña en ángeles no cree pero para nada, o enrollado, con moño y todo, alrededor de un pequeño planeta ambulante.

Retratos

A D.V.

Una implosión,

agua que regresa al seno de la tierra

la semilla que viaja a contratiempo hasta volver a ser semilla

un arcoiris circular

Tú

Zapatista Army for the National Liberation

To: Professor Jacqueline Nolan-Haley

From: Julia Amanda Garza Benitez

Course: International and Interethnic Conflict Resolution

Date: April 26, 2010

Subject: Zapatista Army for the National Liberation

INTRODUCTION

The Zapatista Army for the National Liberation (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, hereinafter “EZLN” or “Zapatistas”), surprised Mexico and the world on the wake of January 1, 1994. On that date, “a group of 300 Indian men and women “slipped out of the Lacandon jungle” of eastern Chiapas and “marched into the center of San Cristóbal de las Casas… In a matter of hours, close to 2,000 rebels took over more than 500 ranches and six more towns in eastern and central Chiapas...”[1] The EZLN was in fact calling for a national war against the government and actually identified itself as a belligerent group under the Geneva Conventions on the Law of War[2]. Two days later, the Mexican government responded by sending the army to fight the insurrection.

Despite that episode of violence, however, both the EZLN and the Government, for their own, separate motives and interests[3], soon realized that the best course of action was to bring the conflict to the negotiation table.

Due to restrictions on length, this short paper will discuss the events in the conflict in very general terms and will later attempt to point to some of the legal, political and negotiation issues that the conflict raises.

War on Drugs

To: Professor Eric Talbot Jensen

Course: National Security Law

From: Julia Amanda Garza Benitez

Date: May 5, 2010

Subject: War on Drugs

INTRODUCTION

Much has been said in recent years about the Drug Trafficking Organizations (hereinafter “DTOs”) in Mexico whose presence and activities have become more and more evident. It would appear as if though it was an endogenous problem unique to Mexico and threatening the order and national security of only that country. This short paper, although focusing on the current situation in Mexico, will also attempt to put the issue in perspective and show how the situation in Mexico in fact represents a threat to the national security of several other countries in the continent as well (including the United States, Colombia, the Central American and the Caribbean countries), and how it will not be possible to contain it or even less destroy it, with the participation of Mexico alone.

First, this paper will examine the recent history of DTOs in the continent. In particular, it will review the situation experienced in what has been denominated “the Caribbean Corridor”. It will later review the changes that DTOs have experienced in Colombia, particularly how they have lost control over the trafficking into the United States, apparently to Mexican DTOs.

In second place, this paper will review the current situation in Mexico. Particularly, it will examine whether Mexico has become or is becoming a “failed State” as some have claimed; it will review the policies and strategies undertaken by the administration of Felipe Calderon and the main criticisms to his approach to the issue.

It will later explore the ways in which the United States has circumstantially contributed to worsening the situation in Mexico and how it has contributed and is deliberately contributing to solve the problem.

Finally, this paper will propose strategies for tackling the issue. Those strategies would ideally be undertaken simultaneously and in concert by the different countries involved.

There is no God, only poetry.

Esquizofrenia

Entre la miopía y las ganas de verte apareces

despiadado

en los vagones del metro en la tienda de la esquina



Eres el incauto que sigo de reojo

a paso lento y dubitativo

que me mira con recelo

y sospecha y me compadece



Yo me compadezco



Soy quien dice adiós con las manos en los bolsillos

la sonrisa retorcida los ojos encendidos



Quien entrega el corazón como inversión a plazo fijo

y se va con la quiebra sin pelear los intereses

Instante

Una mirada

ni siquiera eso

un temblar de las pupilas

un aleteo del alma.



La espuma que queda de la ola que ha muerto

Cómo ser mexicana en NY y no morir en el intento... una serie de ideas sin aparente hilo conductor

So where are you from, pregunta el conciudadano número X,000. Julia sonríe, hoyuelos y todo, se sacude la pereza de la respuesta anticipada y dice fuerte y claro From Mexico. Interlocutor sorprendido, incómodo, se ven varias ideas pasar con prisa volando tras sus pupilas, no se logra identificarlas. Al final se anima a responder una de dos: You don't look Mexican o si no, No, you're not con las respectivas variaciones: You don't have a Mexcian accent, you are very tall for a Mexican.

So what?

Eso siempre me hace plantearme un montón de preguntas. Casi siempre llego a la conclusión de que la gente en cuestión no ha ido jamás a México y por ende todo lo que sabe es... bueno, ya no sé qué es lo que la gente sabe de México.