Zapatista Army of National Liberation
						   Mexico
March 1996.

To: Latin America, in the painful south of the American
Continent.

Planet Earth. (The seventh planet of the Solar System if you
are coming from out there, like if you are on that star
that's over there (no, not that one, the other one) and you
were walking towards the sun the same way in which you walk
towards the inside, you know, with fear and hope).

From: Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos.
	 CCRI-CG of the EZLN.
	 Chiapas, Mexico.

Suppose it's not true that there's no alternative.  Suppose
impunity and grief are not the only future.  Suppose it's
possible that the rickety border which separates war from
peace has stopped getting thinner.  Suppose that some
lunatics and romantics think that another world and life are
possible.  And then suppose something even worst, like maybe
these lunatics believe that there are other lunatics who
think like they do.  Then suppose the inadmissible, that
these and the other lunatics want to find one another.  And
these lunatics are of course, supposing that from this
insane encounter, reason can emerge.  You'd like to attend
this crazy encounter, right?

Yes? No?  If your answer is a supposed no, then get serious,
save yourself the reading of the remaining paragraphs and
write "Address Unknown" on this letter.  Don't worry about
returning it to the sender.

If your answer is a supposed "yes", then use this letter
wisely; make a small fire, for example, or a paper doll or
airplane.  I don't know, use it so it elicits a small smile
from you.  And if your supposition is that you will attend
this encounter, then keep reading.

If you're now getting dizzy from your encounter with this
letter then perhaps you should know that this encounter,
this Continental Convergence for Humanity and against Neo-
liberalism will be held in La Realidad (the Reality).
Charming, right? And since we're dealing with assumptions,
suppositions and suppositories and you are planning to
attend, we must suppose you'd like to know when and how'.

So, we'd like you to accept this invitation which in the
days of April picks up history and shakes it out so that it
awakens and begins to walk.  Please join us for the
Convergence (Encounter) of the American Continent for
Humanity and against Neoliberalism.  We will be,
appropriately in these times in La Realidad, one of those
corners of the Chiapanecan Southeast where suffering is
transformed to hope thanks to a complicated chemical mixture
of dignity and rebellion.

The days.  Marked on the calendar as the 3,4,5,6,7,8 of
April.  Year?  The one we suffer now, 1996.

The "how" has a few details which we'll keep to ourselves so
you don't ruin your meal and to preserve the mood of this
newly-found encounter which we discovered in this invitation
to an encounter.  You will receive those details from the
Organizing Commission . . . if they find them.

Perhaps you should suppose that if you wait for someone to
find you, you could hide or you could look for the one who's
looking for you, in these affairs which are encounters, it
is always better to take the initiative..  So pack whatever
you will need, who knows: a pencil (in case it's possible to
write something,) paper of different sizes and colors (in
case you're ignored, you can make paper dolls) a bit of
string (in case you get lost encounter, you return
to...where?) and lots of patience.

We're experts over here at waiting but we still wonder, will
you arrive?

Vale.  Health to you, and since we're on the subject of
encounters, we hope we can encounter history before she
finds us.

>From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos.
Mexico, March 1996.


P.S.  Did you notice the formal and chilly tone of the
invitation?  Isn't the seriousness with which this
transgressor of the law invites you to this veeeeery
important international gathering admirable?  Don't you
think it deserves a "no" or "yes" or "I don't know" to be
sent the only secure way possible, on a paper airplane?
Anyway don't worry, the wind will know how to pilot it to
us...if it finds us...