The mural covers the wall of the building which houses Hasta Muerte Coffee. The images in the mural pretty much speak for themselves although I wonder why they have the young man making a peace sign?
I like how Starsucks, Whole Fools and luxury condos coming soon, seem to be but a facade and how “Justice for Oscar Grant” blooms out of the silver grey of the BART train tracks. I love the colorful pinwheel spokes of the bicycles of young Africans and Latinos in Oakland.
I’m sitting in Hasta Muerte on Fruitvale Avenue. It’s the second time I’ve come here. It’s Mother’s Day. It’s not that busy, but a woman comes in to set up for an event in the afternoon. With everyone in my house still sleeping, this empanada, coffee and time to chill in this cool space with revolutionary books and paintings is my little treat for myself.
I’ve had a phone call with my own mother. My sister made her breakfast and she is going to spend the day working on the berm that she made out of the oak which has succumbed to woodpeckers and wind, and my Dad’s chainsaw.
“Did you say berm?” I ask.
“Yes, berm,” she replies.
“How do you spell that?” I ask sheepishly.
I studied Comparative Literature, not English. And I still feel truly ignorant about the English language which continues to fucking baffle me.
So my mom explains that she is building this berm to do “as nature does.” It will serve as part of the hillside to make sure that the trees are protected and mimic the way the tree would have naturally decomposed and provided compost for the regeneration of the soil and proper drainage for the slope of the canyon.
“As nature does,” I repeat. I love my no-nonsense mom, with her worm bin, building the berm, protecting the earth in her corner from human predation. People call my mom Bobbie, but her full name is Roberta.
Inside the cafe, there’s a painting of woman named Berta Caceres in the corner. I know she was righteous and I know that she was murdered because she defended indigenous rights in Central America. But I decide I need to learn a little more about her so I look her up.
Her full name was Berta Isabel Cáceres Flores. She was an indigenous leader from the Lenca people from southwestern Honduras and eastern El Salvador. She founded the Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras in 1993, dedicated to the defense of the environment in Intibucá and the defense of the indigenous Lenca people.
She literally died protecting her people and the Earth as she went up against the powerful interests attempting to build a hydroelectric dam backed by European and Chinese corporations which would have displaced the people, animals, and plants on the Lenca’s ancestral lands. She was murdered by someone who was connected to those interests who has recently been apprehended. But the one who pulled the trigger was just another pawn in the game set up by the Finnish, German and Chinese interests who were trying to build this dam. Business as usual for world-wide imperialism.
She was doing what is right for the people and the planet. I am honored to know about Berta Caceres and be a member of a movement whose interests align with those she was struggling for, the rights of indigenous peoples to be free and self-determining. I am also grateful to be a part of an artistic community which gives me hope and inspiration for the future of humanity.
Much love to Berta and Roberta and all the fierce protectors of the wisdom of Mother Earth. To all those revolutionaries of the heart who nurture our spirits, those at home and those around the world, those living and those passed.
Wendy Lea Writing 