By Julius Calasicas
Sunday, March 18, 2007. Thousands upon thousands of people gathered on the South Park Blocks here in Portland, Ore. to protest the war in Iraq on its fourth anniversary (technically March 20). The sun warmed the fair city, which is seldom (though increasingly more frequent) this time of year.
"It's a beautiful day for a peace rally," said my friend Melissa. I agreed. ... As we crossed the bridge I could soon tell that we were not that far away, judging by the growing number of people I saw walking around with signs that read "No War in Iraq!" "Send Our Troops Home Now" or - my favorite - "People Say We're Bush Bashing, Here in Oregon We Call It Thinking." When rainbow flags with the word "PACE" appeared, I knew we had reached our destination.
The South Park Blocks consist of a beautiful, narrow strip of parks near the Portland State University "campus," featuring bronze statues and benches to rest upon. No one here was ready to rest. Melissa and I passed the stage where speakers were focusing on Iran and how this war should not be allowed to expand into another country. Peace signs were everywhere. Cheers were given freely to the rhetoric. A strong sense of growing unity was waiting for the moment to turn kinetic.
We walked a few more blocks north and I began to notice the changing crowd. The further we got from SW Madison Street, which held the middle-aged liberals, children and seniors, the more ... eccentric the protesters became. Hair deviated from natural tones to vibrant shades of pink, blue, and green. Tattoos stared back at me. Dreadlocked Rastafarians waited in patience around a sensual drum circle.
One blonde Rasta, who I swear I met in a hot tub not too long ago at a friend's party, broke from his drum tapping and looked up towards the sky. He waved to something no one else saw, closed his eyes and began drumming again.
Then the church bell across the street began to ring. It didn't stop. I thought of Poe's "Bells" while the speaker, the student body president of the University of Oregon, proclaimed "The Freedom Bell rings for us!" He then proceeded to rap politics.
The mass was waiting. We stood for minutes that lasted eternities on Madison. In front of us to our left, the Freedom Bell rang. To our right, a large bronze statue of an elk watched with amusement. Behind us, our speaker/poet proudly sang how liberal he voted. Dead ahead was our conviction. Finally we moved.
Now, the thing about a march is that it starts out like a river of molasses. We moved east towards the river calmly. Collectively we shuffled, chanting every now and then to a rhyme that spoke our purpose.
"We want jobs and education! No more war and occupation!"
The street was ours. The sidewalks were for onlookers. The corners we turned were greeted with police, but we just kept walking. I began to compare those of us in the streets and those of us who were watching. In general, the stationary folk were tourists with something to bring back to the family at home. "Bush's war has got to go! Hey hey! Ho ho!"
It was not a bedlam. It was a coherent march unlike the last protest, Drive Out the Bush Regime, which was basically an angry mob with no agenda. I felt like no one wanted to waste the anniversary of a war with violence. This was only the beginning.
