Airing the voice of a people
Sunday, September 02, 2007
ESMERALDA BERMUDEZ
The Oregonian Staff

WOODBURN -- The radio show begins, and in a stuffy, powder-blue room where Carmen Gonzalez has already begun to perspire, the disc jockey with cinnamon skin and round indigenous features leans into the microphone and speaks to her people.

"To all our countrymen out there working hard picking cucumbers, be sure to drink water and take breaks, because it's going to be a hot one today," she says.

The announcement is to fellow Mexicans, but Gonzalez's words don't come in Spanish. They are in Mixteco, a vowel-heavy, rapid-fire indigenous language of the mountainous regions of Oaxaca that many Woodburn residents speak.
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As in other parts of Oregon, indigenous groups have carved out a presence here among the larger population. They are Mixtecos, Purepechas, Zapotecs and Triquis, and their language, cultures and customs differ from mainstream mariachi Mexico.

Knowing this, Radio Movimiento, a community station, airs three radio shows catering to the indigenous community, one that is often without voice or place among Latinos in Oregon. Shows feature native bilingual disc jockeys, such as Gonzalez, and offer native music, along with conversation in Spanish and indigenous languages.

"We're giving space to the community so the community can hear itself," said Ramon Ramirez, president of Northwest Treeplanters and Farmworkers United, owner of the station.

Since the station was launched almost a year ago, the shows have become among its most popular, broadcast from an aging two-story house in an industrial corner of Woodburn.

For miles around in the northern Willamette Valley, these indigenous listeners tune in, bent over fields picking cucumbers; at construction sites hammering new homes into shape; and in kitchens cooking feasts for family birthdays and quinceaneras.

Leticia Carrillo called the station to greet her family over the airwaves and request a Mixteco song.

"We listen," she said, "and we remember who we are and where we came from."

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Quick success

The new shows were embraced within months in Woodburn, where more than 50 percent of the population is Latino, census data show.

Many emigrate from Michoacan and Oaxaca, where a lot of indigenous groups have roots that date to pre-Columbian times. Up to 10 percent of Woodburn residents speak Mixteco, according to a University of Oregon survey.
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Descendants of once-great civilizations that survived centuries of Spanish dominance, these indigenous immigrants -- especially those who do not speak Spanish -- have limited access to routine services such as health care, the justice system and banking. Discrimination that has long been a part of Mexico's ambivalence toward its indigenous people follows them across the border.

Radio Movimiento's three shows, "The Voice of the Purepechas," "The Oaxacan Hour" and "Our Hometowns," aim to be a resource and a cultural bridge. Disc jockeys are a mix of landscapers, field pickers, factory workers and outreach advocates with little to no radio experience. They volunteer their time to a bare-bones effort that has delivered plenty.

"This is a way of reaching out to a population that often may not have any other way of getting information," said Lynn Stephen, professor of anthropology at the University of Oregon. "Here, they learn about access to medical care, sexual harassment, labor rights and events."

Stephen said the airwaves, as opposed to written material, are often the best way to reach out to many indigenous people. In many Mixteco and Zapotec communities across Oaxaca, loudspeaker systems deliver all announcements, from local commerce advisements to notices about lost pigs.

Hosting one of the Mixteco shows is Santiago Ventura Morales, an indigenous man who gained national attention in Oregon in the late 1980s after he was accused in the fatal stabbing of a fellow farmworker. His conviction was overturned in part because he was not provided an interpreter who spoke Mixteco, his native language. Prosecutors later dropped the charges rather than retry him.

Today, Ventura Morales works for the Oregon Law Center helping indigenous groups through The Indigenous Project. He hosts a program Tuesday evenings that features Mixteco and Triqui speakers.

"We're asking people to see who we are so they can understand us more and treat us better," Ventura Morales said.

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Disc jockey Pedro "Pete" Torres sees his show catering to Purepechas from Michoacan as a way to preserve and promote Purepecha heritage.

"Our dialect is more sentimental," said Torres, comparing it with Spanish. "The songs speak of love, a kind of love that makes you cry. It's not easy to lose it. We can't forget it, because it's ingrained in our roots."

That message is not lost on faithful listeners, who tune in with pride and melancholy. All around, they see in Woodburn a place that mirrors towns they left behind, with colorful downtown storefronts bearing names such as "El Oaxaqueno" and "La Michoacana." But on a deeper level, this new world does not represent their tradition, language or music.
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"We have to keep passing on those customs, culture and ways to our little ones," said Gonzalez, the Mixteco disc jockey.

But the reality, she said, is that much of it is being lost.

Treasured connections

As 11 a.m. approaches in a nursery just outside Woodburn, Jaime Estevez reaches into his shirt pocket and turns on his battery-operated radio to "The Oaxacan Hour."

The 53-year-old nursery worker from Oaxaca is a devoted listener. Every Saturday, as he prunes pines and maples, he tunes in to hear Gonzalez, Constancio Cortes and his cousin, Mario Cortes.

He joins dozens of Mixtecos and Purepechas who wake up to the shows on Saturday mornings to hear the familiar tunes of their people. They call in to request songs and reminisce about Mexican towns with tongue-tangling names such as Tehuantepec, Chicanteco and Cuicateco.

Many speak to the disc jockeys only in Spanish and with regret, admitting their parents did not pass on the indigenous language. Others report over the airwaves in nothing but Mixteco or Purepecha.

"I feel like I'm there, back in Oaxaca," Estevez said. "I'm there, I'm young, I'm at our Oaxacan fiestas."

The Woodburn resident has been in Oregon for nearly 30 years. Each one of his four children -- ages 14 to 33 -- speak some Mixteco. When they visit Oaxaca annually, the kids count on their Mixteco to communicate with elderly aunts and uncles, who can't speak Spanish.

"I'm not ashamed," he said. "I tell them, 'Don't forget your culture.' "

On Sundays, Estevez tunes in to Radio Movimiento to send long-distance shout-outs to his family in Oaxaca. That day, the Woodburn station links with a radio station in Fresno, Calif., which broadcasts live to the streets of Oaxaca.

"I feel proud, and say hello to everyone listening to me down there," he said.

Esmeralda Bermudez: 503-294-5961; ebermudez@news.oregonian.com

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