for the mouse to steal the corn, take it to an island, and be the sole owner of the
ears of corn. Time passed and the mouse always had his corn. One day a crow that
was passing by asked the mouse: ‘‘What is your occupation?’’ The mouse replied
that he was eating corn. The Crow then knew that the mouse had stolen the corn
from God, and he also know that this was the reason why God did not have enough
corn for some newly-created humans whom he had been sustaining with tortillas
only. Then the crow said to the mouse, ‘‘If you like to travel, I can take you
wherever you want. Just give me a few ears of corn so that I might take them to a
land where there is nothing to eat and which is inhabited by some animals called
humans’’. The mouse thought it over before responding to and accepting the
proposal, but he was also tired of living alone on his land and so he replied to the
crow, ‘‘I will give you the corn, but you must take me to that place of which you
have spoken’’. The crow accepted and the mouse loaded a few ears of corn onto
his back, and then they returned to the place where the humans lived. Since that
day, humans have been eating corn, and mice have been stealing sown corn (Van
der Fliert 1988, p. 212).
Don Ernesto, the teller of this story, like many of his neighbors in San Ildefonso,
is an indigenous peasant, owner of less than 5 ha of farmland, which for several
generations has been used for planting corn, beans, and squash, but he also knows
how to grow sorghum, barley, and onions. He irrigates his fields with the water that
falls from the sky; production is 2.5 tons and the vast majority of it is used for
personal consumption, exchange, with a bit left over to sell to his neighbors.
Farmers like him don’t clearly understand macroeconomics, price liberalization,
or importation of seeds. What they do know is that, progressively, during the last
20 years, young people have become less engaged in this activity, prices of the
supplies needed for production have been rising, and that this activity today represents a huge risk, if not a certain financial loss. The predominant situation of the
majority of small agricultural producers in Mexico is that the characteristics of their
production units do not coincide with the conditions established by the market.
Nearly 20 years after the signing of the North American Free Trade Agreement,
with nearly half the population of Mexico in poverty and a rural sector divided by
the policies of privilege for agribusiness, facing national and international
migration, and the sale and/or rent of land due to market speculation, we can ask
ourselves: is there a model designed to stop or reduce the phenomenon of devastation caused by macroeconomic decisions made for local contexts? Is it possible
to generate a process of restoration of nature based on food production such as the
one employed by rural society? How can we create local conditions that favor
global development but are relevant to the collectives on various territorial and
generational levels? Is it possible to change the future of a Mexican countryside
that, after nearly 20 years of free trade, continues to resist the ravages of market
liberalization?
For the last 30 years throughout Latin America, peasant and indigenous societies have been the sectors with the most intense expression of the impoverishment
that is so common in various cultural contexts. It is also in those contexts where
numerous social, political, and religious initiatives have flourished, with very
468
A. Vázquez-Estrada and A. Terven-Salinas
ears of corn. Time passed and the mouse always had his corn. One day a crow that
was passing by asked the mouse: ‘‘What is your occupation?’’ The mouse replied
that he was eating corn. The Crow then knew that the mouse had stolen the corn
from God, and he also know that this was the reason why God did not have enough
corn for some newly-created humans whom he had been sustaining with tortillas
only. Then the crow said to the mouse, ‘‘If you like to travel, I can take you
wherever you want. Just give me a few ears of corn so that I might take them to a
land where there is nothing to eat and which is inhabited by some animals called
humans’’. The mouse thought it over before responding to and accepting the
proposal, but he was also tired of living alone on his land and so he replied to the
crow, ‘‘I will give you the corn, but you must take me to that place of which you
have spoken’’. The crow accepted and the mouse loaded a few ears of corn onto
his back, and then they returned to the place where the humans lived. Since that
day, humans have been eating corn, and mice have been stealing sown corn (Van
der Fliert 1988, p. 212).
Don Ernesto, the teller of this story, like many of his neighbors in San Ildefonso,
is an indigenous peasant, owner of less than 5 ha of farmland, which for several
generations has been used for planting corn, beans, and squash, but he also knows
how to grow sorghum, barley, and onions. He irrigates his fields with the water that
falls from the sky; production is 2.5 tons and the vast majority of it is used for
personal consumption, exchange, with a bit left over to sell to his neighbors.
Farmers like him don’t clearly understand macroeconomics, price liberalization,
or importation of seeds. What they do know is that, progressively, during the last
20 years, young people have become less engaged in this activity, prices of the
supplies needed for production have been rising, and that this activity today represents a huge risk, if not a certain financial loss. The predominant situation of the
majority of small agricultural producers in Mexico is that the characteristics of their
production units do not coincide with the conditions established by the market.
Nearly 20 years after the signing of the North American Free Trade Agreement,
with nearly half the population of Mexico in poverty and a rural sector divided by
the policies of privilege for agribusiness, facing national and international
migration, and the sale and/or rent of land due to market speculation, we can ask
ourselves: is there a model designed to stop or reduce the phenomenon of devastation caused by macroeconomic decisions made for local contexts? Is it possible
to generate a process of restoration of nature based on food production such as the
one employed by rural society? How can we create local conditions that favor
global development but are relevant to the collectives on various territorial and
generational levels? Is it possible to change the future of a Mexican countryside
that, after nearly 20 years of free trade, continues to resist the ravages of market
liberalization?
For the last 30 years throughout Latin America, peasant and indigenous societies have been the sectors with the most intense expression of the impoverishment
that is so common in various cultural contexts. It is also in those contexts where
numerous social, political, and religious initiatives have flourished, with very
468
A. Vázquez-Estrada and A. Terven-Salinas