Last night I attended the memorial for my friend and former house-mate, Anet Henrikso. Anet died last Wednesday of Alzheimer's Disease. This celebration of her life was a standing room only event, as family members mingled with scores of people who loved Anet and were inspired by her. Her two daughters remembered growing up with a mother who shared her love of the outdoors with them. Two of her granddaughters movingly expressed their love for their grandmother  in words and song. One after another, people with whom she had worked on a number of social justice issues praised her work and her dedication. Anet's half-sister said that she had never realised how important Anet was to our community. I think that many of us in the room felt the same way. 

Anet was one of the most passionate activists I've ever met. She had seemingly boundless energy to pour into multiple causes. She was on the front lines of anti-poverty work, support for Indigenous rights, environmental defence, refugee rights, women's rights and world peace. At the celebration of her life I learned for the first time that she had participated in the Greenham Common Women's Peace Camp, which sought to prevent the installation of US nuclear Cruise missiles in England.

Louise, Anet's long-time copine, embraced me and told me how she had held her close during her final hours. Theirs was really a love story. During the four-and-a-half years Anet lived in care homes, Louise visited three or four times a week. They went for walks, they sang and danced. There was so much love between them.

Anet and I were the same age (heading for 70), born in November 1945, just six days apart. Naturally, the celebration of her life was also an occasion for me to consider not only my own mortality, but the ephemeral nature of life itself, and why it is that we desire to find meaning in it. Further, why do some find their meaning in war while others. like Anet, find theirs in working for peace and justice? That's still an open question, as the drumbeat of war grows louder, drowning out the voices for peace. I don't think that Anet would have liked living in the world as it is, although it wouldn't have stopped her from doing everything in her power to turn the tide. What I do think she would have enjoyed is knowing that, during the celebration of her life, she bequeathed to so many of us a renewed sense of dedication to creating a world worth living in.

Here is a selection of Anet's videos from the 2008 Aboriginal Women's Walk for Justice.

ANET HENRIKSO has passed; Commemorative celebration of her life this Monday (from Solidarity City)

We remember Anet Henrikso, former VOW board member (from Canadian Voice of Women for Peace)

Yanacocha Mining Company and the National Police of Peru are evidently refusing to abide by a recent legal ruling in favour of Máxima Acuña Chaupe, owner of the land facing Laguna Azul. Having failed to force Máxima  and her family from their home by legal means in order to turn Laguna Azul into a tailings pond, they are continuing their campaign of harassment. The following is a translation of the original Alert posted at Red FRAKTAl.


POLICE AND YANACOCHA SECURITY HARASS MÁXIMA ACUÑA - (CAJAMARCA, PERU)

ALERT No. 001 - 2015 Cajamarca, Peru. January 20, 2015.

At noon today, about 15 members of the National Police of Peru accompanied by several members of the company Securitas, which provides private security services to Minera Yanacocha, broke into the home of Máxima Acuña Chaupe, who was with her husband. The purpose of the police intervention was to forbid carrying out agricultural activities and prevent improvement work on her home.

None of the police wanted to identify [themselves] nor show whether they had a warrant for said police intervention, and they were not accompanied by any authority of the Public Ministry to justify the violation of the home and the armed invasion of the land, located in the area of Tragadero Grande, [which] is owned by Máxima Acuña and has been the subject of lawsuits in which Yanacocha sought to deprive her of her land during the years 2010-2014.

As you may recall, last December the Judicial Appeals Chamber of Cajamarca issued a favourable ruling to Máxima Acuña, through which she and her family felt legally protected from continued harassment by the mining company and security personnel. However, today the armed police personnel raided the property of the Acuña Chaupes, threatened them when they demanded that they withdraw immediately from their property, and even tried to snatch the cell phone of Jaime Chaupe when he proceeded to photograph their offensive.

The legal defense for Maximum Acuña and her family will carry out the corresponding complaints for this apparent arbitrary police action occurring in the context of contracts the mining company holds to pay the fees of policemen who end up acting as a reinforcement of their private security corps, Securitas, and a means of harassment of campesinos who refused to sell their lands to Yanacocha.

Conflict Watch

GRUFIDES 

(GRUFIDES' principal objective is to promote sustainable development through the protection of the environment and the sustainable management of natural resources with particular focus on respecting human rights. - See more at: Red FRAKTAL)

One year ago today, I traveled with a group of about 30 people to protest the Yanacocha Mining Company's plans to extend its operations into an environmentally sensitive region in the Province of Celendín, high in the Peruvian Andes. The area claimed by Yanacocha for its Proyecto Conga is located at the head of an extensive hydrological system that provides water to a number of communities. We met in Celendín's town square shortly after dawn and travelled  in combis for nearly three hours, zig-zagging upwards on narrow roads, passing the small farms of some of the people whose lives and livelihoods would be devastated by the contamination of their water supply. Along the way, we passed people on foot and on horseback headed to the same destination.

We were among the first to arrive at the gate erected by the mining company. Some complained that the road should not be blocked, since it's a public road. The men guarding the entrance to the disputed land were unmoved. We gathered on a hillside in front of the gate and waited for others to arrive. It was cold and damp under an overcast sky. It rained intermittently. People sang  to keep spirits high, and coca leaves were shared around to energise our bodies and keep our minds clear in the high altitude (approximately 4,000ft / 1219.2m ). Our numbers swelled as truckloads of people arrived. At last the people on horseback crested the hill above us. It was one of the most impressive sights I've ever seen, equalled only by the sight of more than 1,500 people —mostly campesinos and campesinas—in a double row stretching as far as the eye could see, moving on foot and on horseback toward Laguna El Perol, one of several slated for destruction by Yanacocha's Conga Project.

Along the way, we passed Laguna Azul and the family home of Máxima Acuña Chaupe, an extraordinarily courageous woman who has refused to sell her land to Yanacocha. Her resistance in the face of harassment, beatings, the killing of her animals, and Yanacocha's endless legal challenges to her ownership of the land, has so far effectively thwarted the mining company's plans to turn the surrounding area into a giant open pit mine. Máxima does not stand alone. She is supported by numerous environmental and human rights organisations in Peru and in Europe, and by hundreds of thousands of people whose lives and livelihoods depend on the water that flows down to them from these pristine Andean heights. 

As we approached Laguna El Perol, we passed a busload of police on the road. They did not impede our march, and I suspect that one of the reasons they were there was to videotape the march and to photograph each of us as we passed. Arriving at El Perol, we learned that a large number of people from the Bambamarca District had been prevented from joining us by a police blockade set up at the other end of the road. 

We gathered beside El Perol under a threatening sky that occasionally broke open to shower us with cold rain. I was glad that I'd purchased a poncho made of heavy rubberised material in Celendin. It was big enough to share with one of Máxima's daughters. It kept us dry as we sat on one half and held the other half over our heads while we listened to the denunciations of Yanacocha by representatives of some of the many communities endangered by Proyecto Conga. 

At the end of the day, as darkness began to close in, we headed back to where we started. It was one of the roughest days I've ever experienced (and there have been a few). Just when I thought I could not take another step, a compañero asked a man on horseback leading a riderless horse if he would allow me to ride it. And so, I rode for the last kilometre on the back of this gentle animal, thinking about many things: the courage and stamina of these people, the beauty of the land they are defending and its potential destruction by an evil corporation that has the support of the government of Peru. Like so many similar struggles involving people defending their land from rapacious mining companies, it's a "David and Goliath" scenario. But it's one that I believe can ultimately see the Earth and her inhabitants come out victorious.

One recent victory that has invigorated the movement to put a stop to the Conga Project is the decision by the Judicial Appeals Chamber of Cajamarca in favour of Máxima. This represents the final step in the legal process open to Yanacocha. Somehow, though, I do not believe that Yanacocha has exhausted its extra-legal means. The mining company is surely not about to give up on its 4.8 billion dollar investment. I'm waiting, as they say, "for the other shoe to drop." La Lucha sigue. 

It is now three weeks and three days since we celebrated the Winter Solstice. The length of the day has increased from 8:42:14 to 9:04:28. That's slightly less than 20 minutes, but what a difference it makes. What's most noticeable is the quality of the light.

For most recent winters I've been closer to the equator, where the light is ubiquitous but not as subtle as northern light. This year I didn't have the energy to organise a winter away from the bitter cold and the slippery streets of Montreal, and so, once again, I'm learning to appreciate the icy beauty of a Montreal winter. 

I live in an apartment on the 19th floor of a highrise building in the west end of the city. It's just one large room, with a small kitchen and a bathroom. In this compact space is everything I need — with room to spare. The main attraction here is the wall of windows on one side of the room. Beyond them is a balcony where I grow vegetables in the warm season. From the balcony I can see the downtown Montreal skyline, St. Joseph's Oratory, l'Université de Montréal, Concordia University's Loyola Campus. Laval, Dorval Airport, the West Island, Lac St. Louis, Chateauguay, Kahnawake and beyond, as far as the Laurentians. Above it all is a vast sky that changes from one moment to the next. 

The days are slipping by quickly. The worst of winter is yet to come, but then, February is the shortest month. Progress on my projects is slow, but I'm not feeling any stress about it. In between naps I work on my memoir and, with my brilliant web designer, Andreas, on two other websites. I read books and do research online. I get together with friends for potluck dinners, where we discuss important issues and conspire to subvert the dominant paradigm. 

Life is good, even though it's winter in Montreal. 

Lately I've been indulging in a "binge de couchage." After fighting extreme fatigue for 15 years, and feeling guilty for "wasting time" sleeping, I have been giving in to the irresistible urge to slip occasionally into a state of oblivion — and I like it.

I know what insomnia is. Insomnia is a tormented state. I suffered from it in my somewhat distant past (for a few years it coexisted with fatigue) and I wouldn't dream of trading my "somnia" for it. For several years, instead of being unable to sleep, there have been times when I am unable to resist it. My eyes refuse to focus, I feel slightly dizzy, and as soon as I lie down I drift away. Sometimes I have wonderful dreams that follow me into wakefulness, but more often there is just the sweet unconsciousness of chronic pain, of speculations about the future, of important work not being done.

There's nothing unpleasant about sleeping, except for the vague sense of guilt I've felt waking up and realising that there are so many things I "should" have been doing — and here I've spent a couple of hours not even thinking about them. A friend says, "We've been trained to be productive." Although I've seldom met the accepted criteria for Capitalist "productivity" (because it has never been my goal), until fairly recently I've still experienced the guilt associated with the lack of it. Liberating myself feels like a huge achievement. 

My complete acceptance of the need to sleep has come with the full realisation that I have been officially retired for four years already, and no one's expecting me to be productive anymore. Paradoxically, guilt-free sleeping at odd times during the day seems to enhance my ability to focus during my waking hours. Frequently, those mysterious channels from the unconscious to the conscious mind are unblocked and ideas transform themselves smoothly into words on the virtual page. This I attribute to sleeping as needed, without guilt.

The second achievement is that I've tamed the Facebook monster. It's been a good source of links to news, analysis and documentary videos, and this has been its main attraction for me. However, it does less well as a forum for discussion. Most of my Facebook friends are intelligent people whose observations and opinions are worth engaging with. Unfortunately, we all have some stupid Facebook friends (or disinformation agents) who are capable of derailing a good discussion.

Lately, I've become less reliant on Facebook friends to provide me with information. I've bookmarked websites that seem to be reliable sources of information. I've been signing up for email notifications from some of them so I don't have to check each individual website to see if there is anything new. I'm putting time limits on my connection to the swarm intelligence of the Internet. It should not take up most of my waking hours.

Recent bouts of focused writing, interspersed with guilt-free naps, leave not much time for Facebook, but I won't be deactivating my account just yet. I'll drop by now and then; see who has a birthday coming up; take a look at the news feed; maybe "like" or comment on something; maybe post something uncontroversial on a distant relative's wall. Taming the Facebook monster just means that I wouldn't miss it if it disappeared.

2015 is off to a good start for me. I know it will be interesting. I hope it will bring good changes for all of us.