At the beginning of September of this year 2022, a space for dialogue and sharing of experiences was opened, possibly sowing seeds that will become fruit in the not too distant future. On the one hand, the documentary work by Emily Cohen, wisely called "Fruits of Labor". ?2021? was presented in Michoacan, not only in the Ambulante festival circuit, but also in the intimacy of the El Gran Calavera Cultural Centerin Patzcuaro. And, on the other hand, inhabitants of this lake region and peasants from communities affected by the presence of agroindustrial companies.
Based on the fact that cinema gathers and generates reactions that touch us in the deepest part of our being, this documentary -which I recommend you not to miss when you see it premiered in your nearest cinema or festival- stirs the earth, which is worked by the hands of the two protagonists.
Located in Santa Cruz, California, Ashley and Ximena are part of the working class who grow and harvest strawberries in the large fields of companies such as Driscoll?sone of the most exploitative and aggressive with the land in the agribusiness world.
And this is precisely the starting point not only of the documentary -which I will not spoil, of course- but also of the relationship that was woven between Michoacan peasants affected by this same company and the refrigeration plant it built in the municipality of Huiramba. Also in attendance were women workers in the Zamora area and people who, living in Pátzcuaro, have seen how the land that used to feed the culinary culture of the communities is now being used to satisfy the consumer demand that has been created around berries. A fashionable product like the avocado, and we already know what the avocado has done in its agro-industrial version.
It was very impressive to hear, at the end of the projection, how the different experiences were shared, on both sides of the border, talking in the same terms about what happened in the fields with the so-called "mayordomos" - a kind of caretakers so that work is done efficiently -, with the permission to go to the bathroom, with what it means to work in the fields and to know that the salary is not equivalent to the hours and the effort of the work.
And what begins well, ends well, so, after listening to each other, after recognizing the urgent need to change course, take care of the land, stop these agro-industrial mills and recover what has given us life and identity, it was time for lunch, the time, as they say in some traditions, to "share bread and salt". Although in reality the meal at the Gran Calavera was a delight, as was sitting at the table together, continuing the conversation - an exercise in dialogue that also brought laughter and emotions.
On one side or the other of the border there will always be ties that unite us and make us recognize each other, sometimes these ties are surprising, but on other occasions, as on this one, more than a surprise, what there was was the conservation that there is no border that can stop the love for the land, the attachment to the life that emanates from it and the need to listen to each other to establish paths of solidarity between communities. This is also what Michoacalifornia.
Heriberto Paredes Coronel (Tlaxcala, 1983), Mexican freelance photographer and journalist, dedicated to documenting organizational processes in indigenous and peasant communities, the search for missing persons and environmental issues in Mexico. He currently explores formats such as documentaries and podcasts without abandoning photography and text, where he explores new narrative routes. He has collaborated with national and international media, has directed short documentaries and is currently in the development phase of a feature documentary as well as writing a book that brings together more than a decade of work on the Michoacan coast. He lives in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán. Twitter @BSaurus Instagram @el_beto_paredes.
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