This seems to deter the blatant violence that has been inflicted on communities sympathetic to or allied with the EZLN, but seems to have little effect on the inevitable migration roadblocks and checkpoints, the incursions of camouflage trucks transporting armed soldiers or the daily intrusions by air from military and police forces. Despite our ignorance of the local dialect, it became clear to us after we had settled in to our observation post that tensions were running high and that the people were frightened. They are afraid of going alone and they no longer bathe or wash clothes in the river. This in reference to the recent surge of assault and rape against the women in the community by on-duty soldiers whose goal it is to intimidate the populace. The town of Francisco Gomez is not unique in being surrounded by newly erected military installations whose presence is continually felt.
Many people suffer from gastritis and ulcers.
They suffer from insomnia and have trouble working on the harvest. When there are no observers here, no one sleeps at night. In the local clinic, beside the rapidly depleting stores of cimetidine, was a review article from the British Medical Journal on the effects of torture on civilians. Unlike other medical posts in the lush mountains of southern Mexico, the clinic in Francisco Gomez is completely under the command of the local people. Paying for a four-hour truck ride over the unpaved, potholed and sinewy path through the mountains to the nearest hospital in Altamirano is impossible for most, whose sole source of income is selling their corn or coffee harvests at artificially low prices in the local market, competing in vain with the output of local corporations.