Christian Tomás Colón Garnica

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Christian Tomás Colón Garnica. Digital art: Jan Nimmo ©

Christian Tomás Colón Garnica, a student at the Raúl Isidro Burgos Normalista Teacher Training School, Ayotzinapa, Guerrero is from La Zapoteca, a poor barrio of Tlacolula. Tlacolula is in Oaxaca State, a southern neighbour of Guerrero. Christian went to study in Ayotzinapa because his parents could not afford for him to continue studying at home and in going to the Normailsta school he would have the opportunity to continue studying and have bed and board provided while he was there.

In an interview for Oaxaca Quadratin his sister in-law, Juana Pérez Gómes, describes how the family have been absent from home as they have been searching for Christian since he was forcibly disappeared along with 42 of his fellow students on the 26th of September 2014. This has meant that the only income to support the family has come from what they earn from a modest little shop. His father is a labourer who earns £28 a week. All of the disappeared Normalista students come from low income families so there will have been many sacrifices along the way in the search for their missing sons. That said, in a show of solidarity, the residents of the barrio, who are just as poor as Christian’s family, along with the local authority in Tlacolula and community members, collected money to help with the parents’ travel expenses to Chilpancingo and Iguala. Read more about it in this article in Imparcial Oaxaca, here.

Christian’s family have searched Guerrero, and, like all the other parents, want him home alive. They are people of faith and hope that their prayers to the Virgin will be answered.

In this piece I have used a background image from the stone carvings from the Mixtec ae-archeological site at Mitla not far from Tlacolula. I first passed through there with my husband, Paul, many years ago now, and vividly remember the bus journey through Tlacolula on the way to the site at Mitla… we had visited Teotitlan del Valle and Santa María del Tule to see the 2000 year old tree there. In the top right hand corner I have incorporated Paul’s sketch of that journey which he made in his diary. In subsequent trips I stayed in the city of Oaxaca and each day visited the small towns round and about the Valle Central making sure that my visits coincided with market days or cattle fairs. The markets are good place to meet people selling anything from fruits and vegetables to handmade objects. In the portrait I have included the image of an alebrije style carved wooden lizard which I bought on one of these trips.

Tlacolula-Mitla. Drawing: Paul Barham ©

Tlacolula-Mitla. Drawing: Paul Barham ©

This spring a Mexican student, Ramiro, contacted me from Eugene, Oregon, USA regarding an event that he and others at Eugene4Ayotzinapa were planning to host with Normalista parents during their awareness raising tour of the States, Caravana 43. He had seen the portraits I was making on the internet and wondered if I would be happy for them to use my portraits for their event. I was, of course, both delighted and moved, so agreed and sent him the files. The great thing about making digital art is that it can be uploaded and printed anywhere. When I finish the portraits I hope to be able to work with Eugene4Ayotzinapa to have aware raising exhibitions in High Schools there.

Ramiro told me he was from Oaxaca, and it was only after I had published the portrait of Christian online that Ramiro got back to me and told me that he too was from Tlacolula. He might be far away from his home town but he is demonstrating the same spirit of solidarity as his fellow townsfolk in Tlacolula.

In the portrait I have incorporated the lyrics of a famous Mexican song, Canción Mixteca, a song for the homesick, for those sad to be far from their homeland, the beautiful Central Vally of Oaxaca, La Tierra del Sol (land of the sun).

Canción Mixteca

Que lejos estoy del suelo
Donde he nacido.
Inmensa nostalgia
Invade mi pensamiento.
Y al verme tan solo y triste
Cual hoja el viento.
Quisiera llorar,Quisiera morir
De sentimiento.

Oh! tierra del sol
Suspiro por verte.
Ahora que lejos
Yo vivo sin luz.
Sin amor.
Y al verme
Tan solo y triste
Cual hoja el viento
Quisiera llorar,Quisiera morir
De sentimiento.

Miguel Aceves Mejía

Mixtec Song

How far I am from the soil
Where I was born.
Immense nostalgia
Invades my thoughts.
And seeing myself so alone and sad
Like a leaf in the wind.
I would like to cry, I would like die
of sorrow.

Oh! Land of the sun
I long to see you.
Now that I live to far away
I live without light
Without love.
And seeing myself so alone and sad
Like a leaf in the wind.
I would like to cry, I would like die
of sorrow.

Miguel Aceves Mejía

There are hundreds of versions of this song but here you can listen to the version I heard first – Antonio Agular (Thanks, Julie Oxberry) – or listen to a Oaxacan marimba version from Marimba Oaxaca.

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Marco Antonio Gómez Molina

MarcoAntonio

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Marco Antonio Gómez Molina. Digital Art: Jan Nimmo©

Marco Antonio is from Tixtla in Guerrero. His nickname is Tuntún and he was 20 years old at the time of his disappearance last September. His fellow students at the Normalista school “Raúl Isidro Burgos” in Ayotzinapa describe how he loves rock music and how one of his favorites is the Spanish rock band Saratoga. I have used the lyrics from one of their songs, Manos Unidas/Joined Hands, for this digital collage. Seven months have passed and we still don’t know the whereabouts of Marco Antonio and the other 42 Normalista students who were disappeared in Iguala on the night of the 26th of September 2014. The theme of Normalista students being targets in the series of portraits is a recurrent one.

No hay olvido.

Manos Unidas

Azul un mar azul
Tan intenso como esa luz fugaz
Que hay en tu cara
No hay nada mejor
Que sentir tu aire fresco resbalar
Por mis heridas
Sueño con un final
Me hundo en la oscuridad
Y le pido a Dios
Verte una vez más
Sin trampa ni cartón
Como el gesto de aquel niño que un día fui
Y sigo siendo
El tiempo confirmó
Que mi vida sólo importa si estás tú
Siempre conmigo
Horas de soledad
Generan esta ansiedad
Como el girasol
Muere si no estás
Las manos unidas
Sentir tu calor
Juntos para caminar
Juntos para soportar
Juntos para comenzar
Mil aventuras
Vivos para compartir
Vivos para discutir
Vivos para construir
Locos por vivir
Sólo una cosa más
Quiero manifestar
Que gracias a ti
Pude ser quién soy

[Letra y música: Jerónimo Ramiro]

Joined Hands

Blue, a blue sea
Intense like that fleeting light
On your face
There’s nothing better
Than feeling your cool air slip
Over my wounds
I dream of the end
I sink in the darkness
I  ask of God
That I will see you again
The real you
Like the gesture of that child I once was
And still am
And time confirms
That my life only matters if you are around
Always with me
Hours of solitude
Cause this anxiety
Like a sunflower
I die if you’re not around
Our hands joined
Feeling your warmth
Walking together
Coping together
Starting together
A thousand adventures
Living to share
Living to disagree
Living to build
Mad for life
There’s only one more thing
I want to say
That thanks to you
I could be who I am.

[Lyrics: Jerónimo Ramiro]

José Luis Luna Torres

JoseLuisLunaTorres

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jose Luis Luna Torres. Digital Art: Jan Nimmo©

José Luis Torres is from a small indigenous town, Amilcingo, in the Mexican State of Morelos, close to the border with Puebla. José Luis was unable to study locally so he matriculated at the Escuela Normal “Raúl Isidro Burgos” in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero.

His mother, Macedonia, describes herself as both mother and father to her children, as she is a widow with 7 children. She makes ends meet by roasting and selling peanuts and elotes (sweetcorn).

Before José Luis was forcibly disappeared along with 42 fellow students in Iguala, on the 26th Sept 2014, he’d help his mother out roasting peanuts, amongst other chores. He worked on the land or as a builder’s mate. The family struggles to get by. His brother, Sósimo describes how his José Luis wants to get an education so that he’ll be in a better position to help the family out. He and his brother are just like two peas in a pod.

Jose Luis is one of six Moralenses that went to study in Ayotzinapa. Two of his fellow students, Carlos and Armando, were present on the night when police attacked the students. Carlos says that at first he thought the bullets were rubber bullets. They recall the chaos; everyone running to escape and not one but two balaceras (shootings). Armando wonders aloud about where is his classmates are, what has happened to them, his voice trembles as he speaks.

Jose Luis’s sister, Marisol, describes his disappearance and the feeling of not knowing his whereabouts as being like “dying little by little”.

Making this portrait has coincided with the death of Uruguayan writer, Eduardo Galeano, from whom I learned so much about Latin America. I have included some lines from his poem “Los Nadies” – “The Nobodies” (at the bottom of this post). José Luis is someone, not nobody. A name not a number.

On the 4th of December 2014 Galeano wrote in La Jornada about Ayotzinapa:

I read and I share.

The orphans of the Ayotzinapa tragedy aren’t alone in the persistent search for their loved ones, lost in the chaos of the burning rubbish dumps and graves full of human remains.

They are accompanied by the voices of solidarity and their warming presence across the whole map of Mexico and further afield, including the football stadia where players celebrate their goals drawing the number 43 with their fingers in the air, in homage to the 43 disappeared.

Meanwhile, the President, Peña Nieto, recently returned from China, warns, in a threatening tone, that he hopes that he won’t have to use force.

Moreover, the President condemns “the violence and other abominable acts carried out by those who have no respect for law and order”, although he didn’t clarify that these delinquents could be useful in making up menacing speeches.

The President and his wife, la Gaviota, to give her stage name, are deaf to anything they do not want to hear and live in solitary splendour.

The unequivocal ruling of the Permanent Tribunal of the People declared at the end of three years of hearings and thousands of testimonies: “In this world of impunity there are murders with murderers, torture without torturers and sexual violence without abusers.

In the same vein, the statement from the representatives of Mexican culture warned: “The rulers have lost control of the fear; the rage they have unleashed is turning back against them’.

From San Cristóbal de Las Casas, the EZLN (National Zapatista Liberation Army) summed it up: “It is both terrible and marvellous that the poor who aspire to be teachers have become the best educators, who, with the power of their pain transformed into a dignified anger, so that Mexico and the world wake up, question and ask for answers”.

Original article in La Jornada

Los Nadies

Sueñan las pulgas con comprarse un perro
y sueñan los nadies con salir de pobres,
que algún mágico día
llueva de pronto la buena suerte,
que llueva a cántaros la buena suerte;
pero la buena suerte no llueve ayer, ni hoy,
ni mañana, ni nunca,
ni en lloviznita cae del cielo la buena suerte,
por mucho que los nadies la llamen
y aunque les pique la mano izquierda,
o se levanten con el pie derecho,
o empiecen el año cambiando de escoba.

Los nadies: los hijos de nadie,
los dueños de nada.
Los nadies: los ningunos, los ninguneados,
corriendo la liebre, muriendo la vida, jodidos,
rejodidos:

Que no son, aunque sean.
Que no hablan idiomas, sino dialectos.
Que no profesan religiones,
sino supersticiones.
Que no hacen arte, sino artesanía.
Que no practican cultura, sino folklore.
Que no son seres humanos,
sino recursos humanos.
Que no tienen cara, sino brazos.
Que no tienen nombre, sino número.
Que no figuran en la historia universal,
sino en la crónica roja de la prensa local.
Los nadies,
que cuestan menos
que la bala que los mata.

The Nobodies

Fleas dream of buying a dog
and the nobodies dream of getting out of their poverty,
that some magic day
suddenly good luck will rain upon them
that it will downpour bucket-fulls of good luck.
But good luck doesn’t rain today
or tomorrow, or ever,
not even a little drizzle falls from the sky.
No matter how much the nobodies cry for it
and even when their left hand itches
or they get up on the right foot,
or when they start the year with a new broom

the nobodies: the sons of nobody
the owners of nothings
the nobodies: nothings
chasing after the hare,
dying all their lives
Fucked and double fucked
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.

Who don’t practice religions,
but superstitions.

Who don’t do make art, but crafts.
Who don’t practice culture,but folklore.
Who are not human,but human resources.
Who have no face but have arms,
who have no name, but a number.
Who don’t appear in the universal history books,
but in the police pages of the local press.
The nobodies,
who are not worth the bullet that kills them.

Eduardo Galeano

José Ángel Navarrete González

JoseAngelNavaretteGon

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está José Ángel Navarrete González. Digital Collage: Jan Nimmo ©

Emiliano Navarrete Victoriano was working away in the US when his son, José Ángel Navarrete González was born. He remembers the phone call from his wife back in Mexico. He describes the birth of his son as the best day of his life.

José Ángel, or “Pepe” likes playing football but his dad instilled in him that it was important to study too. His parents didn’t have money to send him to a private school so their only option was to get him a place in a Normalista School so he went to study in Ayotzinapa.

His father recalls an exchange with his son, two days before he disappeared, “I gave him a big hug and told him that I loved him. I said – I’m so proud of you son, I like the way you conduct yourself. Wherever you are I will always be there for you. I have no idea I why I said that to him when I did. Believe me when I say that what has happened hurts so much but I’m going to find him and one day I’ll bring him back”.

From an interview on TeleSur 17/03/15

I don’t have to add anything to this, do I?

Jan Nimmo 10th April 2015

Miguel Ángel Mendoza Zacarias

MiguelAngelMendozaZac

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Miguel Ángel Mendoza Zacarias. Digital Collage: Jan Nimmo ©

I made this portrait of Miguel Ángel Mendoza Zacarias today (part of the series of the 43 students who were studying in Ayotzinapa), with some urgency as I have been invited to collaborate with an event in Eugene, Oregon, USA on the 11th April 2015, as part of the Caravana 43 tour of the USA. The event will have contributions from two parents of the disappeared students, Blanca Luz Nava Vélez, mother of Jorge Alvarez Nava, y Estanislao Mendoza Chocolate, father of Miguel Ángel Mendoza Zacarias. They will be speaking to raise awareness of their situation and that of the other parents and families of the disappeared Normalista students.

Margarita remembers Miguel Ángel as a good, much loved boy. He is quiet and well liked by the townsfolk in his native Apango, Mártir de Cuilapa. He enjoyed playing basketball and he took a course in the local church so that he could become a barber.
His mother recalls that the week before the students were victims of the attack in which her son disappeared, he left his house to cut hair so that he could earn money to buy books for his studies. Before becoming a student at the Normalista School “Raúl Isidro Burgos” in Ayotzinapa, he had gone to study medicine at Universidad Autónoma Latinoamericana Caribeña de Ciencias y Artes but was unable to continue due to a change in government policy. Margarita says that he loves to study but that he also helps out on his father’s land.

Miguel Ángel is known locally by a couple of nicknames, “El Miclo” because when he was little he broke his right foot and he has a metal plate inserted, He is also known as “Botita” because his brother is nicknamed El Bota.

He is well liked and being older than many of the other students in Ayotzinapa, looked out for the younger ones and gave them advice. A fellow student describes him as a good guy and recalls the night of the 26th September 2014, “We were travelling on the same seat on the bus  and we had agreed not to wake each other up but then the bullets started coming we got off the bus and I ran one way and he ran the other I got back on the bus  but he was arrested by the Iguala police, I escaped and since then I have been searching for him”.

Miguel Ángel’s dad now has to harvest his maize alone, without the help of his son. His mother, who makes and sells atole, a hearty pre-hispanic drink of ground maize, cane sugar and flavoured with cinnamon, just wants her son back at home so that she can make him some. Hi niece, Estrella, who adores Miguel Ángel, misses him very much and struggles to come to terms with the fact that he is no longer around.

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow,Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow,Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Ayotzinapa: 6 months on and still waiting for answers.

I am still less than half way through making the portraits of the 43 Normalista students from the “Raúl Isidro Burgos” Rural School, who were forcibly disappeared in Iguala on the 26th September 2014. 43 is a big number. We are still waiting for answers about the fate of the students, with the exception of Alexander Venancio Mora who was identified from small fragments of bone and tooth, which were found in a rubbish dump in Cocula.

The families and friends of these young men, who were training to be teachers in the under resourced schools scattered throughout rural Guerrero, are still waiting for answers. Mexico too.

I have blogged about each portrait of the students as I’ve made them The posts can be seen here. Meantime here are all  the portraits I’ve made to date in the one place. I’ll be keeping working to make new ones and holding out for news. For the sake of the parents I hope that there will be something to give them some kind of closure but in a context of indifference and impunity I doubt that, sadly, it will be anytime soon.

SaulGarciaBruno

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Saúl Bruno García. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Luis Angel AbarcaCarillo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Luis Angel Abarca Carillo. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

JhosivaniGuerrerodelCruz

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jhosivani Guerrero de la Cruz. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

MauricioOtregaValerio_final

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Mauricio Ortega Valerio. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

MartinGetsemanySanchezGarcia

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Martín Getsemany Sánchez García. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jesus Jovany Rodriguez Tlatempa. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jesus Jovany Rodriguez Tlatempa. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow,Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow,Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

FelipeArrnulfoRosa_final

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Felipe Arnulfo Rosa. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

Magdaleno Belen_final

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Magdaleno Rubén Lauro Villegas. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

Marcial Baranda Pablo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Marcial Baranda Pablo. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

EduardoBartoloTlatempa_JanNimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está José Eduardo Bartolo Tlatempa. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

EverardoRodriguezBello_JanNimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Everardo Rodríguez Bello. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

LeonelCastroAbarca

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Leonel Castro Abarca. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

Carlos LorenzoHernandezMuñoz

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Carlos Lorenzo Hernández Muñoz. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Alexander_Mora_Venancio

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quería saber dónde estaba Alexander. Venancio Mora. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Abel_Gracia_Fernandez

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Abel García Hernández. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Luis Gonzalez Parral. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Luis Gonzalez Parral. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

JorgeAnibalNEW

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Aníbal Cruz Mendoza. Digital Collage: © Jan NImmo

 

 

 

 

Luis Angel Abarca Carillo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Luis Angel Abarca Carillo. Digital Collage: Jan Nimmo ©

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Luis Angel Abarca Carillo. Digital Collage: Jan Nimmo ©

I have recycled a painting I made of Mexico many moons ago (happier days) as part of this collage of Luis Angel Abarca Carillo, the latest in the ongoing series of portraits of the 43 students from the “Raul Isidro Burgos” Rural School, Ayotzinapa, who were forcibly disappeared last September.

Vivos los queremos.

 

Jesús Jovany Rodríguez Tlatempa

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jesús Jovany Rodriguez Tlatempa. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jesús Jovany Rodriguez Tlatempa. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

21 year old Jesús Jovany Rodríguez Tlatempa is from Tixtla and is nicknamed “el Churro” by his fellow students at the Normailsta teacher training school “Raul Isidro Burgos” in Ayotzinapa, Guerrero, Mexico. His is the oldest of a family of four and is a father figure for his one year old niece, whose mother is a single parent. He was studying at the Normailsta school to become a teacher because he loves working with children. Those who know Jesús describe him as quiet, caring and faithful.  He is also someone who finds violence against women absolutely abhorrent.

I imagine that Jesús probably likes modern music but I have chosen the lyrics of a traditional son from the Tixtla area called La Martiniana for this collage. The gist of this song is that the one left behind should not mourn the singer’s passing – tears would mean that he would surely die but if he were to be sung the beautiful sones of the Isthmus then he would never die and live forever.

We now know that fellow student, Alexander Venacio Mora was murdered but I’m hoping with all my might that Jesús and the other 41 students forcibly disappeared on the 26th of September  2014 in Iguala are still alive. Whatever the outcome of these tragic events, they will always be remembered. I live on the other side of the world but know when I hum a son istmeño I will be remembering 43 young Guerrense men, with a lump in my throat.

La Martiniana

Niña cuando me muera,

No llores sobre mi tumba,

Cántame un lindo son, ay mamá!

Cántame La Sandunga.

No me llores, no, no me llores, no,

Porque si lloras, me muero,

En cambio si tu me cantas,

yo siempre vivo y nunca muero.

En cambio si tu me cantas yo siempre vivo y nunca muero.

Lucero de la mañana,

El rey de todos los sones,

Cántame la martiniana, ay mamá!

Que rompe los corazones.

No me llores, no, no me llores no.

Porque si lloras, yo muero

En cambio si tú me cantas yo siempre vivo y nunca muero.

Si quieres que no te olvide,

Si quieres que te recuerde,

Cántame sones istmeños, mamá

Música que no muere.

No me llores, no, no me llores no.

Porque si lloras, yo muero

En cambio si tú me cantas yo siempre vivo y nunca muero.

Sung by Son Istmeño

Jorge Álvarez Nava

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Yo, Jan Nimmo, Glasgow, Escocia, quiero saber dónde está Jorge Alvarez Nava. Digital Collage: © Jan Nimmo

Jorge Alvarez Nava is from Juan R. Escudero, Guerrero, a town named after a trade unionist. Jorge has been missing since the 26th September. His parents, Epifanio and Blanca want their son back home. He is one of the 43 Normalista students from the Raúl Isidro Burgos teacher training school, who were forcibly disappeared in Iguala by police and members of the criminal gang, Guerrero Unidos. He was known as El Chabelo and was 19 years old at the time of his disappearance. I have read that he enjoyed music so the song lyrics are from a song about Tierra Colorada, the area he comes from.

Vivos se los llevaron, Vivos los queremos.

#TodosSomosAyotzinapa #IlustradoresConAyotzinapa