I Couldn't Even Imagine That They Would Kill Us. John Gibler

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СКАЧАТЬ me get by, I’m going to get off.” Or: “Get out of the way.”

      But they didn’t hear me and so I stayed on the bus. And that bus was the first to leave the station, it went in the lead, the first bus that you see in all the photos. I was there with other compañeros. I didn’t see Bernardo again. The image I have of him is being down there directing everything.

      COYUCO BARRIENTOS, 21, FRESHMAN. We got to the bus station and started to spread out. Some compañeros went into the station. We started to take some buses. We grabbed three in total. And we had two other buses that we brought from the school. There were five. We started to leave. The first two buses went ahead. I was in the third bus of the five. We were in the middle of the caravan, but the other two buses took a different route and we didn’t see where they had gone. So we arrived at the point where there is a zócalo. And the driver was going really slowly. He wasn’t getting very far. And I think that he gave the authorities time to arrive and try to get us off the buses. The driver was moving at a snail’s pace. I was in the middle of the bus and I shouted out to the compañeros up front to make the driver step on it, and if not they should get him out of the way and drive the bus themselves, that we had to hurry up. If we didn’t, we’d get caught there. And the driver went even more slowly; he didn’t pay any attention to us. In part, I blame the bus driver because he gave them time to arrive. It’s just that, that night, we didn’t know, no one knew there was a government event, that the director of the DIF⁴ was giving a speech right there in the zócalo. In fact, a number of newspapers say that we went to protest her speech. But that isn’t true. We were only going to our action, which was asking for donations and grabbing buses, and that was it. We didn’t even know about the government event.

      SANTIAGO FLORES, 24, FRESHMAN. We got on the bus and took off. The driver didn’t want to go because he said he was sick, or something like that, that he had to get some medicine, or go to the doctor, he was saying something like that. He didn’t want to go, he refused, and a compa from the committee took the keys from him and said that he’d drive.

      The driver said no, because if he left the bus the company would hold him responsible, I think. So he said that he would drive.

      When we were leaving the station the driver said something strange, that he didn’t know the way. That was strange, that he would say he didn’t know how to get out of town. The compas were saying if he worked for the bus company he had to know how to get to the bus station, but he said he didn’t, that he didn’t know how to get out of town, he didn’t know the streets there. We left, but really slowly, the driver was going slowly. Around then, there’s a . . . what’s it called? I think in the center there is some kind of plaza, I think, a zócalo. I was in a window seat and I saw people having dinner. We went a few meters farther and I heard something like firecrackers. I thought they were fireworks, but the compas said: “They’re shooting at us.”

      JUAN PÉREZ, 25, FRESHMAN. We went to the bus station. Everyone got on a bus and we left. In some buses twenty students got on, in others fifteen, in others ten, and so on. We left the station and we realized there were police trucks following us. A few blocks later a police truck pulled in front of the lead bus. A police officer got out of the truck and started running, shooting in the air. I was in the lead bus. All of us compañeros got off the bus to push the squad truck out of the way. Once we started pushing it, the driver backed up and took off. We kept going down the street. We were lost and so started asking people for directions.

      “Hey, you, excuse me, sir: Is this the way to Chilpo?”

      “Yeah, keep going straight.”

      COYUCO BARRIENTOS, 21, FRESHMAN. And so a municipal police squad truck pulled up and cut us off just at the zócalo. The police officers in the back all got out and only the driver stayed inside. So the compañeros in the front of the lead bus threw rocks at the squad truck to make it move. They did that because the police started shooting. At first they shot in the air, but then they started shooting at us. That’s why the compañeros took action. They threw rocks at the truck, smashing its windshield. The other cops ran. And more police were running toward the zócalo, shooting behind them, not even looking to see if they were. . . . I mean, not looking to see if they could hurt someone who wasn’t even involved. But the police driver moved the squad truck and we kept going. The compañeros that had gotten off the bus stayed in the street, running next to the bus to repel another attack. We kept going forward.

      CARLOS MARTÍNEZ, 21, SOPHOMORE. The guy driving the bus told us that he didn’t know his way around Iguala, that the bus was broken down, that he had a commitment at a certain time with his wife, you know, an endless list of excuses so that he drove really slowly. He was driving so slowly on purpose, as if he knew something. Who knows? But he drove the bus really slowly.

      At that point, a police truck pulled in front of us. I saw through the bus window when the squad truck pulled in front and a number of police got out of the back aiming at us. The compañeros got off the bus. The police started to shoot in the air. We started to hear gunshots—a lot of gunshots. That was where the first shootings began. I got off the bus and when the police began to shoot I threw myself to the ground. The bullets were breaking glass. You could hear the glass breaking, and pieces of it started to fall on my back.

      A few blocks later I started to hear music. I looked around and realized that we were at the Iguala zócalo, but people were running and soon the music shut off and everyone started running. By this time all the compañeros who had gotten off the bus, we were all running, fleeing while being shot at. We passed the zócalo. I remember I was running with a number of freshman compañeros. I crossed the zócalo and what we did was get back on the first bus. The bus had kept going, slowly, so we caught up with it and got back on, the first one like before. The bus kept going.

      MIGUEL ALCOCER, 20, FRESHMAN. The police started shooting. The compañeros said that the police were shooting in the air, and I think they were. So many squad trucks started arriving. There were three buses in a caravan and I was in the lead bus. I don’t know much about Iguala, but we were on a straight street and on that street the municipal police would pull out from the intersections. At that time the shots were coming directly at us. The driver kept going straight ahead and the police would drive up and shoot at us. Some compañeros under the stress of being shot at got off the bus and picked up rocks. I think there is a zócalo around there. I don’t know what was going on, but there was some kind of a park and there were a lot of people around. A municipal police officer cut us off around there. The squad truck blocked us and the cops shot directly at us. There were also police shooting at us from behind. You couldn’t run anywhere. So some compañeros managed to find some rocks and threw them at the squad truck and broke the windshield. So the cop moved the truck out of the way and we were able to keep going.

      EDGAR YAIR, 18, FRESHMAN. At first the police were shooting in the air. We weren’t scared because never. . . . Well, we knew that they couldn’t shoot at us because we’re students and they can’t do that to people like us. We kept going and at every street corner we passed, police squad trucks pulled out, and the bullets were coming more and more directly at us each time. And we had rocks. . . . Whatever we could find. We threw the rocks at the police because they were shooting at us. There were three buses in a caravan. I was in the second bus. We drove down that whole avenue and the cops didn’t even care that there were so many other people around, kids, women, all kinds of people. And the cops didn’t respect those people. As we drove along the avenue, we didn’t care about anything, what we cared about was getting out of there as soon as possible.

      IVÁN CISNEROS, 19, SOPHOMORE. We came to what I think was the zócalo, or something like that, I couldn’t СКАЧАТЬ