Hey y'all,
The night that Bea and I were arrested in Vieques was gorgeous. The
sunset was red clouds with a tranquil sea below. Red skies at night
sailor's delight, no? The waxing moon lit the clouds a silvery blue as
stars came out in abundance. In the distance, the soft yellow lights of
Puerto Rico, Culebra and St. Thomas. In the sea, anchored off shore, the
USS Bataan, an assault helicopter carrier. And just down the hill, the
fence of the US navy base.
We got to Vieques on Saturday morning, our first trip back since last
week's arrests. We went to the camp that we always go to at the gates.
Except to get to it, you now have to pass through a police road block.
And the camp has moved across the street. The area where it once was is
now populated by 40 puertorican police officers playing dominoes, taking
pictures of each other and twirling their night sticks out of boredom.
All that remains of the camp is the tree house and a few thousand white
ribbons tied to the gate. A new fence has cut the area in half with
coiled barbed wire filling up the space bewteen it and the gate.
Meanwhile a third new fence is being built to seal off the area
completely.
Across the street the protestors are building as well. Since last we
were there, a new house has been built. We helped clear the lot that
it's on to fit more tents. People from the main island arrived
throughout the course of the day for the vigil later that night- the
first since the arrests. It was nice to see friends, many of them
sporting "I was arrested in Vieques" buttons. Everyone who I told that I
had seen them on CNN blushed at their moment of fame. The mood is still
one of unease. The camp was such a hub of social life for the movement
and rebuilding that is hard while under a state of siege.
We however did not stay at the camp. We got a ride to the end of a dirt
road in the hills. And it's there that we hung out watching the sunset
discussing among other things the Miss Universe pageant (this is Puerto
Rico after all).[Bea says that it’s unfair to only mention the brief
discussion of Miss India etc. and that I should first mention the
reverand/seminary teacher telling dirty jokes] And it's there in that
beautiful moonlit warm night that we split our group of 54 into three
and each walked off to a different section of the chain link fence and
snuck underneath it. My group included Jose "Chegüi" Torres, former
boxing world champion and a very sweet old guy. We all met back up and
took a nice long walk. After maybe a half hour a security truck found us
and then for a half hour or so Marines began marching along side us as
we walked towards the front gate where the vigil was going on.
Didn't make it to the vigil. Instead a row of riot gear outfitted
marines blocked our way with clear plastic shields (the trucks behind
them casting shadows of helmets and truncheons onto the shields). We
were picked up (at about 9:30 pm) one by one and put into trucks and
taken deeper into the base into the most bizarre holding pen you can
imagine. The building was built years before the Marines even came to
Vieques. Old stone walls crumbling with no roof. Inside three holding
pens were made out of chain link fence with a tarp thrown over the roof
and a port-o-john in each cell. For light, two generators on either side
of the building noisily powered flood lights that poured in through
sections of the wall taken out with sledge hammers. One pen held the 13
women. The next held a woman and her two sons (one 17). And the next
held us 40 men. Laying down to try to sleep we were body to body on the
dusty cement floor.
In the morning we were moved to Roosevelt Roads a monstrously huge navy
base across the straight. Bea and the other women were taken by
helicopter. The men went by speed boat four at a time making it a long
process. There we were placed in another fenced in area, this time
outside. We crowded beneath a tent to escape the noon sun.
I was one of the last to arrive. Earlier a mini-riot had broken out. The
marines unloading people from the van had thrown a couple of us to the
ground handcuffed. The protestors already inside just on the other side
of a chain link fence began yelling and screaming. One of them was
Freddie the photographer from El Nuevo Dia (a newspaper{endi.com}) .
(Yes, they arrested the only member of the press with us and took away
his cameras) Freddie yelled every insult he knew, and since on his flack
jacket he had two patches- Vietnam Veteran and Veterans for Peace in
Vieques, I imagine he knew quite a few. The Marines peppersprayed the
prisoners and kicked and beat Freddie. Freddie is charged with assault.
After a long day of nothing much but heat and some poetry, they began
the long process of taking us over to see the judge. Bea left in the
first group at about 1 pm. In that time we had no access to lawyers who
were at the gate of the base or phone calls. So finally after @15 hours
or so the first of us saw a judge and asked for a lawyer. His response:
if you want a lawyer you’ll have to spend the night in the federal
prison and you’ll get one tomorrow.
I was in the last group that was released about six hours later. We were
dropped off at the gates of the monstrously huge navy base. On the other
side of the newly constructed fence and barriers, we were greeted by
about 50 people chanting the ubiquitous Vieques Si! Marina No! Got hugs
and firm handshakes. The street was freshly painted with 5 foot tall
white wash slogans.
Not everyone was released however. 23 people were shipped off to Federal
prison for the night for either refusing to give their name, refusing to
recognize the authority of the USA, or for having been arrested the week
before, thus violating their "conditions of release" to not go back on
the base.
This morning all of us released last night met at the court house to
pick up our "conditions of release" and to greet the rest of the
protestors being released. They arrived in their prison khakis. Their
clothes, having been siezed, will be mailed to them later. In front of
the court house were probably 250 supporters to greet them. The picket
was very upbeat with cars and trucks continually honking in support.
So, those conditions of release. We are forbidden from breaking any laws
blah blah blah and we are also forbidden from setting foot on the island
of Vieques. Not the military base on Vieques, but the entire island of
Vieques. Residents are exempt. We'll see about that. The bar association
is giving us free legal assistance and I heard they've put 50 lawyers on
the case. This is one of those clearly unconstitutional judge's orders
that many a radical lawyer can't wait to get a hold of. And there sure
seems to be plenty of radical lawyers here.
More importantly was an article in this morning's El Nuevo Dia that 20
more protestors have entered the military base. The hope is that a
continuing wave of incurrsions into marine territory can be maintained.
The fence sure is permeable enough. And we were only charged with
misdemeanor trespassing which hopefully will encourage others to follow
suit.
Meanwhile several unions are talking about a general strike. The
Catholic church is going to be fasting on the steps of the capitol
starting this week. In the US Congress, republicans have sent a bill to
the floor demanding that live bombing continue in Vieques. And in Milan,
Italy, Ricky Martin was greeted at a concert with a sign from fans that
read: RICKY Italian Club for Vieques Free. Take that evil empire!
We shall see. We shall see.