Las Mujeres

It was my second time in Mexico City and I had yet to visit the world renowned Museo Nacional De Antropologia which is situated across from the famous Chapultapec park which leads into the infamous Ave de la Reforma of which we have all seen the iconic golden angel sculpture, El Angel de la Independencia, in the centre of the affluent business and hotel district of down town Mexico City.

I was excited as my boyfriend, a Mexico City native, and I headed out for a fun day of activities. We started our excursion by way of the crowded Mexico City Metro of which I have yet to feel safe enough, as a white women, to take on my own. During my first visit to the city I was impressed to learn that all of the public buses and the metro had women's only areas which were highlighted by pink seats and where men are strictly forbidden. I also noticed signage which depicts a figure of a man putting his hand up a women's dress with a line through it, which I found humorous, but really its not funny at all. It's hard to put into words the mixed feeling it gave me of relief that there were measures in place to keep women safe and sadness that these measures were needed. I was clearly in a place where women's safety is an issue and I appreciated that I could go and stand in a women's only section during busy parts of the day where I did not have to be pressed up against men in a sweaty crowded and uncomfortable bus.

Was it coincidence that I chose to take this journey into the heart of the city on what happened to be International Women's Day or Fate? I was told by friends to avoid the Centro plaza where the rallies would be taking place, as there could be violence, and thousands of people would be gathering. I listened and we chose to go the route of Chapultepec Park which was down town but away from Centro. However, where I ended up after exiting the metro, happened to be the starting point of the women's march that would take place along the 5 km stretch from the park to Centro. I found myself in the heart of it, and it was incredible. I only wish I could post more than one photo.

There I stood at the entrance to the park, surrounded by hundred's of women all dressed in purple, holding signs, gathering in groups, chanting and preparing to march down the most infamous Avenue in Mexico. My boyfriend and I stood there for a moment in silence and a bit of shock as we watched, my eyes were welling up and I could see concern in his face. He was going to a meeting and was reluctant to leave me there as I was to be going to the museum on my own, but I felt safe surrounded by these women and I told him to go, I was staying.

He left and as I stood there alone a flood of emotions over came me. Tears started rolling down my face, I felt so inspired and proud of these women. In my country of Canada I enjoy the privilege of relative safety. I say relative because no women is 100 percent safe from the threat of harassment, abuse or violence no matter where she goes, but in a country like Mexico, the threat is much more real. These women had lived their reasons for fighting for their rights and I was so taken by their courage and passion. I will never forget that day and the feeling of being surrounded by these women standing together in solidarity and I felt joy in the realization that they now have the right to do so. Things are changing in Mexico but it continues to be a hard won battle. One year later, Mexico now has its first female President.

I stayed for about an hour watching and trying to be as unobtrusive as I could with taking photo's. It was hard to pull myself away, it was hard not to join them and march, but I knew it was not for me to do. All I could do, was to stand there in admiration, support and camaraderie, as a respectful witness; to see these women, to hear them and to honour them. It was a gift and a blessing and it changed me.

I continued on with my planned day of spending time in the park and going to the museum all the while carrying the reminisce of the experience that had so deeply touched me. I felt vacant, everything else seemed less important. Evening arrived and I reunited with my boyfriend. The rallies were over and we decided to go walk around Centro. What I saw was something that looked more like the aftermath of a war, not of a rally . All of the important buildings were barricaded with metal blockades; the beautiful Palacio de Bellas Artes, the Monumento a la Revolucion, government buildings and important statues. The barricades were plastered with pictures of missing women, wanted perpetrators and convicted offenders. There were still groups of women hanging out, packing up booths, talking and laughing. A group of men and women sat in a circle playing drums and singing ... I had witnessed the beginning and now the ending of the day ... a day that is embedded in my mind forever.

In this photo a women wears a white dress and invites other women who have experienced abuse and violence to place a red hand print on the fabric. I was deeply touched by the courageous women who publicly made the choice to expose, in vulnerability, that they have experienced abuse in their life. What you do not see in this photo is the hundreds of people surrounding this women, the tall buildings of the city in the background and women lined up on the street marching. I have many photos of the whole scene but this one told a story that I felt touched me emotionally and I hope it does for you as well. Gracias.