IT IS NOT ABOUT THE FRUIT. IT IS ABOUT THE PEOPLE!

Photo Essay: Farming on the Frontlines in Gaza: http://www.newsweek.com/photo-essay-farming-frontlines-248321

By Jošt Franko/VII Photo Mentor Program

Farmers install an irrigation system in Beit Lahia, near the Erez checkpoint.

In Gaza, with the Israeli border within sight, Palestinian farmers lead worn-torn lives, dealing farming fields on the frontlines. Trying to make a living cultivating crops like strawberries, oranges, grapefruits and olives, their task became even more difficult after a military blockade in 2007 made it impossible to export their products. Up to 80 percent of agricultural yields from Gaza and the West Bank used to be sold abroad, but a ban on exports has devastated the Gazan economy. At the same time, essential supplies including fuel and electricity are strictly regulated by Israel. Farmers are most likely to be settled in small communities like Rafah, Khan Younis and Beit Hanoun, which are now known as frontlines, where missiles most likely to be fired and lives taken. In these struggling farming towns, the Israeli army has bulldozed land and sniper fire is a familiar occurrence.

More than 35 percent of Gaza’s agricultural land is in so-called buffer zones. Officially, these restricted-access areas extend 300 meters into Gaza. In reality, they can extend up to 1,500 meters from the border fence and are enforced with lethal means. In addition to declining agricultural production here, existing water shortages are exacerbated by heavy pollution, leaving just 10 percent of the water supply potable. (All images from October and November 2013.)

Khalil Zaanin works at his farm in Beit Hanoun. His land was bulldozed several times by the Israeli army.  

 Workers gather products and load them on a car in Khan Younis.

A white flag leans on the ruins of a farm in Rafah.

Geese at Medhat Hamad’s farm in Beit Hanoun. He and his wife work on the field during the day. After school, their children and grandchidren come to the farm to play. Their land was bulldozed several times by the Israeli army.

Medhat Hamad’s grandchild lies on the ground on their farm. 

A donkey eats from a bucket on a farm in east Rafah.

Remains of a rocket following an Israeli air strike lie next to the shadows of Eyad Qudaih’s two daughters, as they stand near their house in Khan Younis. The children ran to their fathers just before the projectile hit their bedroom, Eyad remembers: “If they stayed in the room, they would have been all dead.” He says his wife was pregnant with twin boys, in her sixth month, and had a miscarriage the night of the bombing.

A wife of a farmer makes bread in the area of Rafah.

Tomatoes are transported to market in a pickup truck in Rafah.

Mohammed Abu Daqqa’s farmland in Khan Younis is in the buffer zone. Abu Daqqa cannot hire workers because the land is considered to be too dangerous, so he has to work on the field on his own. Foreign activists accompany him from time to time as human shields, to protect him from Israeli army sniper fire.

Left: Abu Tareq Wahadans’s son unloads fertilizer in Beit Hanoun. Because of the fuel crisis, many farmers use horses and carts to transport their goods. Right: Medhat Hamad’s wife peels an orange on their farm in Beit Hanoun. The family says their farm was bulldozed several times by the Israeli army.

Baby of the Al Roomi family sleeps in her mother’s lap on a farm in Rafah.

Palestinian children and a man gather near a greenhouse at the farm in the Msabbah area in Rafah.

A farm in Rafah.

Daughter of Mohammed Abu Daqqa plays on the roof of their house in Khan Younis.

Ghanma Jbara, prepares tea on the ruins of her house in Rafah. In June 2006, one day after Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit was kidnapped, the Israeli army invaded the area, and her land and house were bulldozed. The farm was surrounded by tanks and soldiers for more than two weeks, and food and water had to be provided by Red Crescent. She refuses to leave her land and move from the ruins of her house and now lives in a shelter home next to her former house and land.

The Abu Daqqa house in Khan Younis. In the last war in 2012, their house was occupied by the Israeli army. They detained their father Mohammed for several days while their mother Jihan and their kids were forced to stay in the house with Israeli soldiers.

A man holding a cabbage, stands next to his son in Rafah.

Abu Daqqa's farmland in Khan Younis.

My opinion: The injustice of the farm laborer is not only a problem for the Latinos. It is a epidemic faced in many countries. I will repeat what Cesar Chavez said until we understand that the problem is not about the fruit it is about the people and about humanity. "The fight is never about grapes or lettuce. It is always about people"

MUST READ: Farm Confessional: I’m an Undocumented Farm Worker

Original Article: http://modernfarmer.com/2013/11/farmworker-confessional/
By Lauren Smiley on November 6, 2013

As told to and translated from Spanish by Lauren Smiley

I’m Odilia Chavez, a 40-year-old migrant farm worker based in Madera, California, the heart of the fertile Central Valley. I’m also a single mother of three: my 20-year-old eldest son came and joined me in 2004, crossing with a coyote. My son is now at the university, studying political science. The younger two were born here — American citizens. 

I grew up in Santiago Yosondua, Oaxaca, in southern Mexico. I went to school through third grade, my dad was killed when I was 11, and we didn’t even have enough food to eat. So I went off to work at 12 in Mexico City as a live-in maid for a Spanish family. I’d go back each year to Oaxaca to visit my mom, and the migrants who’d come back from the United States would buy fancy cars and nice houses, while my mom still slept on a mat on the floor in our hut. A coyote told me he could take me to the United States for $1,800. So I went north in 1999, leaving my four-year-old son behind with my mother. I was 26.

We crossed through the desert into Arizona, hiding from the border patrol. I finally arrived in Madera in March of 1999, and I moved into a boarding house for migrant farmworkers.

I’d never worked in a field. It was really hard at first — working outdoors with the heat, the daily routine. But I’ve certainly learned. In a typical year, I prune grapevines starting in April, and pick cherries around Madera in May. I travel to Oregon in June to pick strawberries, blueberries and blackberries on a farm owned by Russians. I take my 14-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son with me while they’re on their summer break. They play with the other kids, and bring me water and food in the field. We’ll live in a boarding house with 25 rooms for some 100 people, and everyone lines up to use the bathrooms. My kids and I share a room for $270 a month.

I head back to Madera in August for my children to start school. We own our house now — paid off in April! I reached the American dream — ha — thanks to the help of the father of my youngest son, who died in 2007 after he returned to Mexico after a problem with immigration authorities and was killed while working as a policeman. In Madera, I pick grapes that will be made into raisins in September, usually rest in October. In November, I travel each day to Stanislaus County to work planting trees in a nursery until February.

On all the harvests, men and women work side-by-side doing the same job, and women work just as fast as the men. I’ve been harassed one time: when a boss who drove us out to the field every day wanted to hug me, and said he wouldn’t charge me the $8 a day for the ride if I’d go out with him. (Most of us don’t have driver’s licenses, so the contractors organize rides to work.) I left the job. In California, especially in Fresno and Madera counties, there’s an abundance of farm jobs. So you don’t have to do one you don’t like.

I’ve seen on the news that some Congress members or American citizens say undocumented workers are taking their jobs. We’re not taking their jobs. In the 14 years I’ve been here, I’ve never seen an American working in the fields. I’ve never seen anyone work like Mexicans. In restaurants and construction, you’ll find Salvadorans and Guatemalans, but in the fields, it’s almost all Mexicans.

The work is hard — but many jobs are hard. The thing that bothers me more is the low pay. With cherries, you earn $7 for each box, and I’ll fill 30 boxes in a day — about $210 a day. For blueberries, I’ll do 25 containers for up to $5 each one — $125 a day. With grapes, you make 30 cents for each carton, and I can do 400 cartons a day – $120 a day. Tomatoes are the worst paid: I’ll pick 100 for 62 cents a bucket, or about $62 a day. I don’t do tomatoes much anymore. It’s heavy work, you have to bend over, run to turn in your baskets, and your back hurts. I say I like tomatoes — in a salad. Ha. With a lot of the crops, the bosses keep track of your haul by giving you a card, and punching it every time you turn in a basket.

I wish they would be more considerate of what we’re doing with the pay rate. They’re a little cheap: 31 cents for a carton of grapes. I would like another two or three cents a carton, because it’s really hard and heavy work. I’ve never worked a union contract job — a lot of them are in tomatoes or oranges — but if anyone doesn’t want to pay you, the United Farm Workers of America where I’m a volunteer, will help you get paid.

I’m very fast. In jobs where you’re doing delicate things, like pruning plants, they don’t want you rushing, so they pay you by the hour. But harvest jobs are usually paid by the quantity you pick. I prefer it that way — you have to run, but you can get home faster. We get there at 6:00 in the morning and, if I rush, I take a break at 1:00, drink and eat something, then work for another hour and head home. You pick the amount of hours you want to work, and you try not to take a lot of breaks so you can earn more. Some people will go until 5:00 in the afternoon and want to work and work, but I have my kids.

You come home really tired. I’ll come home, take a shower, put lotion on my hot feet, and be ready for the next day. I’m usually in bed by 9:00 to get up at 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning to make and pack some tacos for the day. Also, undocumented workers don’t have any medical insurance — so the majority of us just buy over-the-counter pills for any problems. Luckily, I haven’t had many health issues yet.

Some contractors think they can abuse you because you’re undocumented. One time, a contractor who was an American citizen with Mexican parents called me a no-good illegal, and claimed he was going to call immigration on me. I said, “Send ‘em over, I’ll be waiting!” I left that job.

We all want immigration reform. First, I’d get a driver’s license, social security, and go see my mom in Mexico. (The last time I went was in 2008, and I had to cross the dessert again with a coyote to get back here — but it was the only option.) I would still work in the fields. I don’t know how to do anything else. A lot of workers haven’t gotten very far in school, and they can’t use a computer. What job are they going to do? We can’t get a better job. They were farmworkers in Mexico and we’re going to die as farmworkers. I do have a lot of pride in my work, though. It can be fun. We joke around.

I’m going to keep working as long as I can. My youngest son says he’s going to invent a robot to do the housework for me, and he’s going to earn a lot so we can buy our own ranch.

And yes, you can use my real name! Some undocumented people are scared, but I’ve never seen an immigration raid on a farm. (I hope they don’t start, either.) Agriculture is dependent on undocumented workers. We need the money from the farmers, and the farmers need our hands.

My opinion: This women is a true warrior! I am amazed by her dedication and her will power to keep moving forward in life. The pay she describes is ridiculous. It nearly nothing when compared to the time and back breaking labor they put in each and every day. The American Dream is a broad term and each person describes it slightly different, but I am fed up with it. How can this be the American Dream?! It may be better than being unemployed in your homeland and not having enough to feed your family, but how can one be satisfied with just this...There are many other warriors out there and I wish them the absolute best. May they be able to find the American Dream and not the American Nightmare. 

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NEW FILM COMING OUT ABOUT OUR "AMAZING" AND "HEALTHY" BODIES :)

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THE NIGHTMARE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM

This "DREAM" that so many Latinos yearn for and would leave everything behind for has become more and more impossible. The conditions that these people have to go through are heart breaking, inhumane, and yet they move forward...They are the definition of determination, persistence, and resilience...When crossing the border from Central America to Mexico and then the United States, or from Mexico to the United States their stories go unheard of, their bodies lost on the way, and eventually they become invisible...They are LOS INVISIBLES.

A special thanks to Marc Silver & Gael Garcia Bernal for the documented videos that open our eyes to the immigrants' stories. 


Los Invisibles:

La Vida De Las Mujeres Migrantes:

More Videos on the YouTube channel: The Invisibles, Amnesty- https://www.youtube.com/user/invisiblesfilms

WHO IS DAYANI CRISTAL?

Gael García Bernal Explores A Migrant’s Tragic Journey In New Documentary: http://www.buzzfeed.com/norbertobriceno/gael-garcia-bernal-explores-a-migrants-tragic-journey-in-new 

In a report by Humane Borders, since 1999 there have been 2,471 migrants deaths in Arizona alone. Most of the bodies found have not been identified.

Humane Borders

A new documentary by Marc Silver and Gael García Bernal tells the story of one of these unidentified migrants, who died while crossing the Sonoran desert in Arizona.

(Kino Lorber)

In August 2010, border patrol officers found a migrant’s decomposing body in Arizona’s infamous “corridor of death.” His only identifiable feature was a tattoo that read “Dayani Cristal.”

The film follows García Bernal as he travels the migrant trail from Honduras through Mexico to cross the American border.

(Kino Lorber)

Along the way, he meets other traveling migrants – some who’ve made the journey several times before.

(Kino Lorber/ youtube.com)

Their stories are often times chilling and eye-opening.

García Bernal explores the dangers these men, women, and children face as they travel to the United States in search of a better life.

(Kino Lorber)

These dangers include everything from drug cartel massacres, to kidnappings, to freezing temperatures in the desert. “I will never understand the extent of the dangers he faced,” García Bernal says about the unidentified migrant. “I can only retrace his steps.”

According to a press release, “The film brings viewers intimately close to the often-invisible lives that have been affected by a broken immigration policy.”

(Kino Lorber)

“This film is about migration, it’s about humanity,” García Bernal tells El Cafecito. “It is perhaps one of the most primal stories of humankind.”

(Kino Lorber)

The film won the Sundance 2013 World Cinema Cinematography Award and was featured at the 51st New York Film Festival. Who is Dayani Cristal? opens April 25 in select cities.

WHO IS DAYANI CRISTAL?  TRAILER