May 24, 2015
I watched the movie Run Free in Durango April 28 2015, and was brought to tears while watching. In response I wrote this review... I sent it out to a couple of places to be published, but no luck- so why not put it on my own blog? !!! I think I'm the only one with this reaction... It's showing in Boulder CO on 28 May and in Steamboat Springs, CO on June 10, and check the website (below review) for more info.
Review of Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco
Movie directed and written by Sterling Norlen, 2015 (Noren Films)
I am no ultra marathon runner. I have never participated in Caballo Blanco’s races, nor have I been to Urique, MX. Yet I do have extensive experience in the Sierra Tarahumara and knew Caballo Blanco as a result of my work there. And I did run on some of the canyon trails while there (and sometimes I even run on wilderness trails in Colorado).
I write this review of the movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco from the point of view of a female anthropologist who lived in a Rarámuri community for several years. I did not live or hang out in the tourist towns, and I did not know or hang out with the odd assortment of ex-pats who are drawn to the Sierra and the Tarahumara (Rarámuri) and live in Creel, Batopilas or Urique. I spent two entire years (1999-2001) living in a small Rarámuri rancho in the Batopilas highlands and I lived in Chihuahua City in 1998 and 1999, all of this time working on my dissertation about the Tarahumara. I have returned many times since then, often for months at a time, and I miss the region sorely when I am not there. I never went to Urique because it was outside of my circle of friends- the Tarahumara were the focus of my work so I didn’t go out of my way to visit mestizo or gringo tourist towns.
Since the publication of Born to Run by Christopher McDougall in 2009, several of us anthropologists who lived and worked among the Tarahumara for years have become increasingly dismayed and disheartened over the portrayal of the Rarámuri and the interest in them as a result of the popularization of McDougall’s book. Now there is a new movie out, already winning awards: Run Free: the True Story of Caballo Blanco. Please remember: this is a documentary film about a white male runner- it is definitely not a documentary of the Tarahumara.
I met Micah True in Batopilas in the late 1990s. He greeted me in English as I stepped off a bus in Batopilas, asking if I needed a place to stay. He lived there seasonally and was hustling hotel rooms for a friend of his. My colleague and I had lodging arranged. We were there to visit the Catholic padre as a part of some historical research into the relationship between Jesuit missionaries and the Tarahumara. Caballo Blanco was surprised that we already had connections and a little dismayed that we didn’t need to stay at his friend Monse’s guest home. That was the only time I saw him that visit. On other occasions I ran into him in Creel and we shared a cerveza or two, usually with other gringos. I did get to know him a little bit, but we inhabited different spheres in the Sierra, and I was not a close friend of his.
The movie does a nice job portraying Micah’s life, consisting of extensive interviews with Micah and his friends. It’s a great documentary- of Micah True and the running race he started in Urique. We learn that True changed his name early on, to reflect his philosophy in life. We learn he was a prize-fighting boxer, but didn’t want to talk about it. We learn that he ran a moving business in Boulder, CO and that he travelled extensively in Southern Mexico and Central America, picking up the name Caballo Blanco in Guatemala, since he ran around Lago Atitlán with his long blonde hair streaming in the sunshine. We learn that True met the Tarahumara runners in 1994 in Leadville, CO, when they were there to run the 100 mile race, brought there by Richard Fisher (another white male championing the running abilities of the Tarahumara). We also hear why he wanted to start the Copper Canyon Mas Locos 50 race, and how he felt about it getting so commercialized. The last interviews with Micah are bittersweet- filmed only weeks before he died. True’s death is covered in an honorable and sensitive way, and this story of one runner’s life is touching indeed.
Yes, the story in Run Free is compelling and interesting- a character sketch if you will, of a man apparently seeking something other than what he found in American life and culture. He was a wanderer- the “Gypsy cowboy.” A traveller who came of age in the sixties, moved to Boulder and wholeheartedly adopted the free and easy wheeling lifestyle and philosophy of those times. Call it “zen” and “enlightened” if you will, but there were a lot of youth back then doing just what Micah True did: searching for meaning to their lives. Micah True found it through running. Others found it by meditating, or having families, or doing drugs or growing gardens, or playing music- or… The good thing is that Micah True found his peace in running. What happens when he meets the Tarahumara runners is where McDougall picks up the story in Born to Run, and what the movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco seeks to clarify.
Several times runners who are interviewed in the movie, such as Luis Escobar and Scott Jurek, state that being around the Rarámuri changed their lives. Sadly, no one in the movie manages to pronounce “Rarámuri” correctly, including True. But the Rarámuri did change True’s life (they changed mine) and in the Sierra Madre True finally found the peace and love he was looking for. While this is good for True, and a cause celébre for ultra marathoners, the repercussions of True’s engagement with the Rarámuri and their canyons remains to be seen.
I say this because, unfortunately, following McDougall, the information about the Tarahumara in Run Free is frequently mistaken and even grossly incorrect at times. It is True’s perspective- and what viewers should realize is that the Tarahumara as seen in this film are products of True’s vision, just as the Rarámuri in Born to Run are products of McDougall’s vision. The Rarámuri are not a “hidden tribe” as McDougall asserts- they weren’t hidden before McDougall met them, and they’re certainly not anymore. True even corrects McDougall in the film, telling us that the Rarámuri are not “super athletes” or “superhuman” but just people. In the film, we hear interviews with mestizos in Urique, who are delighted about the commercial success of Caballo’s Copper Canyon race, because it brings in much needed business and cash in the form of tourism. We hear from Caballo, his girlfriend, other runners and locals, but we don’t hear from the Tarahumara. Interestingly, we don’t even hear any Rarámuri language in the film, and some of the translations of Rarámuri words by True are incorrect.
Dr. Felice Wyndham, another female anthropologist who lived in a Tarahumara community, notes this is an instance of the Rockman’s “clear case of, "you see what you want to see, and you hear what you want to hear"… These works- the book and the movie- are representations produced by white males, documenting some things that white males did. That’s fine, as long as viewers know that this is what is going on.
True got the concept of “korima” wrong- he translated it as sharing. In the film he tells us that “korima” is the Rarámuri tradition of sharing, and that they do it without any need of return, out of the goodness of their hearts. They drop gifts off in the night, because they like to share- because this is their way. Just as they run in order to be free- solely for the joy of it. These are True’s ideas, and, the reality? Well, things are little more complex than that…
Korima is a central feature of Rarámuri life, but it does not translate as sharing. It is generally translated as “asking” and Mexicans in Chihuahua who know the Tarahumara will tell you it means “to beg.” Yet it is not really either one of these. In the comprehensive and widely respected dictionary by Jesuit Padre Brambila, it is listed as “to ask for food,” as indeed, the root of the word refers to food and eating. It references a cultural tradition of asking for food without shame. In the Rarámuri world, life is uncertain- crops may fail and families may have to go without food for days. Indeed, going without is respected- I once heard several Rarámuri men bragging about how many days they could go without food and still work hard. The idea is that when (inevitably) you or your family find yourselves hungry, you can ask others, usually kin, for food and they will happily give to you, knowing that when they are in need, you will give back. It is a central tenant of their reciprocal exchange, non-monetary economy. There are pages in the anthropological literature written about this concept, since it is foreign to those of us in the industrial world who are engaged in wage labor and the market economy. This is perhaps why local mestizos consider it begging. I’m sure for True the practice was appealing, and easily misconceived as sharing. But those Rarámuri dropping off gifts in the night were returning a favor- since he’d gifted them with clothing, food, and other material goods they had a cultural obligation to give back.
Similarly, “norawa” doesn’t mean “friend.” It means ‘person who I’m engaged in a trading relationship with.’ It is close to the western idea of friend, but actually refers to an economic exchange relationship, related to the idea of korima. Since the Tarahumara have no word for “friend,” it is the word that gets used, but to gloss it as friend misses the nuanced relationship of trust and exchange it implies.
True translates “Rarámuri” as “people who run,” but again, this is an oversimplification, frequently used in promotional materials for tourism. The word variously refers to footprint, running, or also ray of light, turtle, speed (including fast and slow) and so on… The Rarámuri language is metaphoric and meaning is often derived from the specific context in which the word is used. Tarahumara and Rarámuri are used interchangeably to refer to this indigenous group, and each word has various histories and connotations. The canyon region is called the Sierra Tarahumara, and most people I knew called themselves Rarámuri. Perhaps “people who run” is an easy translation for people who like to run themselves and want to romanticize this indigenous group’s running practices.
Enough with the anthropological language lesson… The movie Run Free is a nice documentary of a man who found his joy by running long distances, in the Sierra Madre, and anywhere he was, and on into his next life. The book Born To Run is a nice book about running as well. But neither one is an accurate depiction of the Rarámuri.
What is disturbing to me is why THIS is the thing about the Tarahumara that gets our attention- the running. There is a postcard put out by “Norawas de Rarámuri,” a NGO begun in 2009 to “provide a flow” of resources to the Rarámuri, that has a quote from Micah about a message of “truth, beauty, hope, and love” depicting Tarahumara runners. Yes, we want to hear about the good stuff. Freedom and joy and sharing- truth and love and people helping those in need out of the goodness of their hearts. But there’s so much more.
We don’t hear about rampant economic exploitation in the name of tourism. Did you know there was a gondola built to the bottom of the Urique canyon, just like the controversial Escalade development currently planned for the Grand Canyon? The Rarámuri didn’t want it, but their wishes were ignored and it was built anyway. In the movie we don’t hear about the narcos (drug traffickers) who are murdering mestizos and Tarahumara left and right- forcing Rarámuri off their fields with AK 47’s. We don’t hear about mestizos illegally logging remote old growth forests with support from the World Bank, or the Trans Canada pipeline being (illegally) built through remote Tarahumara communities. We don’t hear about surgical sterilizations done on women without their consent, or young women forced to have IUD’s and birth control implants inserted against their will. We don’t hear about racist attitudes of some mestizos towards the Rarámuri. We don’t hear about how the traditional rarajipe races in the Sierra are now diminished because some Christian evangelical missionaries are busy converting the Rarámuri in order to prohibit the drinking, gambling and sorcery that goes hand in hand with the races. (We don’t hear about the gambling, drinking and sorcery- all common features of traditional Tarahumara running events- in the movie either.) We don’t hear about what GoldCorp, the mining company that sponsored Caballo’s 2012 race, is up to. We don’t hear about the hard, violent, and economically insecure lives that many Rarámuri live, as a result of several hundred years of oppression, racism and exploitation by outsiders. No, we hear about peace and love and joy.
What most folks viewing the movie might have missed is something that actually brought me to tears. There is a scene showing Tarahumara running alongside people from all over the world in the 2012 race. We hear True’s girlfriend, Maria Walton, saying that one indigenous guy was in his jeans and t-shirt, running to get beans for his family. Isn’t this great? We are giving back to them. True notes that although the race has become commercialized, “at least we’re giving back.” We see that after the race, Tarahumara line up to receive a bag of beans from Caballo himself. We hear that “todos son ganadores,” (we are all winners) and that every participant gets some corn.
So people from all over the world (Denmark, Czechoslovakia, Canada, England, etc.) are flying and bussing in to “the middle of nowhere” to run “in peace and harmony” with the local Rarámuri. Yes, the Rarámuri are running alongside these outsiders, but most of them are really out there on the trail earning a bag of beans for their families, not just for joy. How can this kind of global economic disparity be celebrated in the name of peace and love? Why do we romanticize these indigenous people for their “superhuman” athletic ability that enables them to run miles with little sustenance? Why do we cheer the fact that people from all over the world paid thousands of dollars to run alongside indigenous runners- male and female Tarahumara of all ages- who are running simply because they want some food? This is what made me cry.
You don’t “help” a culture by romanticizing them or glorifying one aspect of their lives. You don’t “help” a culture by making them run 50 miles for a bag of beans and some GMO corn. You don’t “help” a culture by giving them handouts of jackets and food and congratulating yourselves.
This year the local government and business organizations sponsoring Caballo’s race cancelled it due to nearby violence (a massacre) associated with the drug trade. There was much fear, debate, sadness and confusion in Urique. Some people from other countries who had flown and bussed in for the race ran anyway- for the Rarámuri- for Caballo- for the joy of running. And then exhilarated by their running, they went home- away from the guns, empty bellies and noble Indians living in spectacular canyons.
Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco is an excellent documentary- of a man and his life story. You will learn about Micah True’s vision of who the Tarahumara are, why he went to the canyons and what he found there. You will learn about Christopher McDougall, Scott Jurek, Luis Escobar, Maria Walton and other non-indigenous runners. You will get an idea about why the Born to Run book was written, why ultra marathoners made the trek to Urique, Mexico and why Micah True started the Mas Locos running club. But please remember, this documentary is not about the Rarámuri. Hardly anything about these “amazing runners” in the film is accurate, although you’ll see some nice film clips of them running in the canyons where they live. Primarily, as the title states, you will learn The True Story of Caballo Blanco- why and how this American man loved to run.
Run on, yes, in peace and joy and harmony, but when you’re finished running- please take a moment to try to understand that when the Rarámuri say they want to “run free” and “be free,” they mean free from us! They want to be free to live their lives in the remote canyons without thousands of tourists, narcos, mestizos, social workers, runners, developers, anthropologists, tour guides, film makers, missionaries, museum collectors, movie stars, rock climbers, loggers, and other outsiders coming in, asking them questions, taking their pictures, and giving them handouts while telling them how to be.
I once heard a Mexican social worker say that when you ask the Rarámuri what they want, they say “Go away and leave us alone.”
But will we?
The movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco showed in Durango CO on April 28th 2015 to a full house of over 200 people. It was introduced as a film “about running” and the crowd was excited. Afterwards there were lots of comments about “how cool” the Rarámuri were/are.
In Flagstaff AZ it showed the day before to a crowd of over 300. It was named the best documentary at the 2015 Arizona International Film Festival, out of 122 entries.
You can find a Facebook page on the film which provides information about upcoming showings. Also check out the website runfreemovie.com and Noren Films or just Google it- it's also listed on IMDB.
I watched the movie Run Free in Durango April 28 2015, and was brought to tears while watching. In response I wrote this review... I sent it out to a couple of places to be published, but no luck- so why not put it on my own blog? !!! I think I'm the only one with this reaction... It's showing in Boulder CO on 28 May and in Steamboat Springs, CO on June 10, and check the website (below review) for more info.
Review of Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco
Movie directed and written by Sterling Norlen, 2015 (Noren Films)
I am no ultra marathon runner. I have never participated in Caballo Blanco’s races, nor have I been to Urique, MX. Yet I do have extensive experience in the Sierra Tarahumara and knew Caballo Blanco as a result of my work there. And I did run on some of the canyon trails while there (and sometimes I even run on wilderness trails in Colorado).
I write this review of the movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco from the point of view of a female anthropologist who lived in a Rarámuri community for several years. I did not live or hang out in the tourist towns, and I did not know or hang out with the odd assortment of ex-pats who are drawn to the Sierra and the Tarahumara (Rarámuri) and live in Creel, Batopilas or Urique. I spent two entire years (1999-2001) living in a small Rarámuri rancho in the Batopilas highlands and I lived in Chihuahua City in 1998 and 1999, all of this time working on my dissertation about the Tarahumara. I have returned many times since then, often for months at a time, and I miss the region sorely when I am not there. I never went to Urique because it was outside of my circle of friends- the Tarahumara were the focus of my work so I didn’t go out of my way to visit mestizo or gringo tourist towns.
Since the publication of Born to Run by Christopher McDougall in 2009, several of us anthropologists who lived and worked among the Tarahumara for years have become increasingly dismayed and disheartened over the portrayal of the Rarámuri and the interest in them as a result of the popularization of McDougall’s book. Now there is a new movie out, already winning awards: Run Free: the True Story of Caballo Blanco. Please remember: this is a documentary film about a white male runner- it is definitely not a documentary of the Tarahumara.
I met Micah True in Batopilas in the late 1990s. He greeted me in English as I stepped off a bus in Batopilas, asking if I needed a place to stay. He lived there seasonally and was hustling hotel rooms for a friend of his. My colleague and I had lodging arranged. We were there to visit the Catholic padre as a part of some historical research into the relationship between Jesuit missionaries and the Tarahumara. Caballo Blanco was surprised that we already had connections and a little dismayed that we didn’t need to stay at his friend Monse’s guest home. That was the only time I saw him that visit. On other occasions I ran into him in Creel and we shared a cerveza or two, usually with other gringos. I did get to know him a little bit, but we inhabited different spheres in the Sierra, and I was not a close friend of his.
The movie does a nice job portraying Micah’s life, consisting of extensive interviews with Micah and his friends. It’s a great documentary- of Micah True and the running race he started in Urique. We learn that True changed his name early on, to reflect his philosophy in life. We learn he was a prize-fighting boxer, but didn’t want to talk about it. We learn that he ran a moving business in Boulder, CO and that he travelled extensively in Southern Mexico and Central America, picking up the name Caballo Blanco in Guatemala, since he ran around Lago Atitlán with his long blonde hair streaming in the sunshine. We learn that True met the Tarahumara runners in 1994 in Leadville, CO, when they were there to run the 100 mile race, brought there by Richard Fisher (another white male championing the running abilities of the Tarahumara). We also hear why he wanted to start the Copper Canyon Mas Locos 50 race, and how he felt about it getting so commercialized. The last interviews with Micah are bittersweet- filmed only weeks before he died. True’s death is covered in an honorable and sensitive way, and this story of one runner’s life is touching indeed.
Yes, the story in Run Free is compelling and interesting- a character sketch if you will, of a man apparently seeking something other than what he found in American life and culture. He was a wanderer- the “Gypsy cowboy.” A traveller who came of age in the sixties, moved to Boulder and wholeheartedly adopted the free and easy wheeling lifestyle and philosophy of those times. Call it “zen” and “enlightened” if you will, but there were a lot of youth back then doing just what Micah True did: searching for meaning to their lives. Micah True found it through running. Others found it by meditating, or having families, or doing drugs or growing gardens, or playing music- or… The good thing is that Micah True found his peace in running. What happens when he meets the Tarahumara runners is where McDougall picks up the story in Born to Run, and what the movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco seeks to clarify.
Several times runners who are interviewed in the movie, such as Luis Escobar and Scott Jurek, state that being around the Rarámuri changed their lives. Sadly, no one in the movie manages to pronounce “Rarámuri” correctly, including True. But the Rarámuri did change True’s life (they changed mine) and in the Sierra Madre True finally found the peace and love he was looking for. While this is good for True, and a cause celébre for ultra marathoners, the repercussions of True’s engagement with the Rarámuri and their canyons remains to be seen.
I say this because, unfortunately, following McDougall, the information about the Tarahumara in Run Free is frequently mistaken and even grossly incorrect at times. It is True’s perspective- and what viewers should realize is that the Tarahumara as seen in this film are products of True’s vision, just as the Rarámuri in Born to Run are products of McDougall’s vision. The Rarámuri are not a “hidden tribe” as McDougall asserts- they weren’t hidden before McDougall met them, and they’re certainly not anymore. True even corrects McDougall in the film, telling us that the Rarámuri are not “super athletes” or “superhuman” but just people. In the film, we hear interviews with mestizos in Urique, who are delighted about the commercial success of Caballo’s Copper Canyon race, because it brings in much needed business and cash in the form of tourism. We hear from Caballo, his girlfriend, other runners and locals, but we don’t hear from the Tarahumara. Interestingly, we don’t even hear any Rarámuri language in the film, and some of the translations of Rarámuri words by True are incorrect.
Dr. Felice Wyndham, another female anthropologist who lived in a Tarahumara community, notes this is an instance of the Rockman’s “clear case of, "you see what you want to see, and you hear what you want to hear"… These works- the book and the movie- are representations produced by white males, documenting some things that white males did. That’s fine, as long as viewers know that this is what is going on.
True got the concept of “korima” wrong- he translated it as sharing. In the film he tells us that “korima” is the Rarámuri tradition of sharing, and that they do it without any need of return, out of the goodness of their hearts. They drop gifts off in the night, because they like to share- because this is their way. Just as they run in order to be free- solely for the joy of it. These are True’s ideas, and, the reality? Well, things are little more complex than that…
Korima is a central feature of Rarámuri life, but it does not translate as sharing. It is generally translated as “asking” and Mexicans in Chihuahua who know the Tarahumara will tell you it means “to beg.” Yet it is not really either one of these. In the comprehensive and widely respected dictionary by Jesuit Padre Brambila, it is listed as “to ask for food,” as indeed, the root of the word refers to food and eating. It references a cultural tradition of asking for food without shame. In the Rarámuri world, life is uncertain- crops may fail and families may have to go without food for days. Indeed, going without is respected- I once heard several Rarámuri men bragging about how many days they could go without food and still work hard. The idea is that when (inevitably) you or your family find yourselves hungry, you can ask others, usually kin, for food and they will happily give to you, knowing that when they are in need, you will give back. It is a central tenant of their reciprocal exchange, non-monetary economy. There are pages in the anthropological literature written about this concept, since it is foreign to those of us in the industrial world who are engaged in wage labor and the market economy. This is perhaps why local mestizos consider it begging. I’m sure for True the practice was appealing, and easily misconceived as sharing. But those Rarámuri dropping off gifts in the night were returning a favor- since he’d gifted them with clothing, food, and other material goods they had a cultural obligation to give back.
Similarly, “norawa” doesn’t mean “friend.” It means ‘person who I’m engaged in a trading relationship with.’ It is close to the western idea of friend, but actually refers to an economic exchange relationship, related to the idea of korima. Since the Tarahumara have no word for “friend,” it is the word that gets used, but to gloss it as friend misses the nuanced relationship of trust and exchange it implies.
True translates “Rarámuri” as “people who run,” but again, this is an oversimplification, frequently used in promotional materials for tourism. The word variously refers to footprint, running, or also ray of light, turtle, speed (including fast and slow) and so on… The Rarámuri language is metaphoric and meaning is often derived from the specific context in which the word is used. Tarahumara and Rarámuri are used interchangeably to refer to this indigenous group, and each word has various histories and connotations. The canyon region is called the Sierra Tarahumara, and most people I knew called themselves Rarámuri. Perhaps “people who run” is an easy translation for people who like to run themselves and want to romanticize this indigenous group’s running practices.
Enough with the anthropological language lesson… The movie Run Free is a nice documentary of a man who found his joy by running long distances, in the Sierra Madre, and anywhere he was, and on into his next life. The book Born To Run is a nice book about running as well. But neither one is an accurate depiction of the Rarámuri.
What is disturbing to me is why THIS is the thing about the Tarahumara that gets our attention- the running. There is a postcard put out by “Norawas de Rarámuri,” a NGO begun in 2009 to “provide a flow” of resources to the Rarámuri, that has a quote from Micah about a message of “truth, beauty, hope, and love” depicting Tarahumara runners. Yes, we want to hear about the good stuff. Freedom and joy and sharing- truth and love and people helping those in need out of the goodness of their hearts. But there’s so much more.
We don’t hear about rampant economic exploitation in the name of tourism. Did you know there was a gondola built to the bottom of the Urique canyon, just like the controversial Escalade development currently planned for the Grand Canyon? The Rarámuri didn’t want it, but their wishes were ignored and it was built anyway. In the movie we don’t hear about the narcos (drug traffickers) who are murdering mestizos and Tarahumara left and right- forcing Rarámuri off their fields with AK 47’s. We don’t hear about mestizos illegally logging remote old growth forests with support from the World Bank, or the Trans Canada pipeline being (illegally) built through remote Tarahumara communities. We don’t hear about surgical sterilizations done on women without their consent, or young women forced to have IUD’s and birth control implants inserted against their will. We don’t hear about racist attitudes of some mestizos towards the Rarámuri. We don’t hear about how the traditional rarajipe races in the Sierra are now diminished because some Christian evangelical missionaries are busy converting the Rarámuri in order to prohibit the drinking, gambling and sorcery that goes hand in hand with the races. (We don’t hear about the gambling, drinking and sorcery- all common features of traditional Tarahumara running events- in the movie either.) We don’t hear about what GoldCorp, the mining company that sponsored Caballo’s 2012 race, is up to. We don’t hear about the hard, violent, and economically insecure lives that many Rarámuri live, as a result of several hundred years of oppression, racism and exploitation by outsiders. No, we hear about peace and love and joy.
What most folks viewing the movie might have missed is something that actually brought me to tears. There is a scene showing Tarahumara running alongside people from all over the world in the 2012 race. We hear True’s girlfriend, Maria Walton, saying that one indigenous guy was in his jeans and t-shirt, running to get beans for his family. Isn’t this great? We are giving back to them. True notes that although the race has become commercialized, “at least we’re giving back.” We see that after the race, Tarahumara line up to receive a bag of beans from Caballo himself. We hear that “todos son ganadores,” (we are all winners) and that every participant gets some corn.
So people from all over the world (Denmark, Czechoslovakia, Canada, England, etc.) are flying and bussing in to “the middle of nowhere” to run “in peace and harmony” with the local Rarámuri. Yes, the Rarámuri are running alongside these outsiders, but most of them are really out there on the trail earning a bag of beans for their families, not just for joy. How can this kind of global economic disparity be celebrated in the name of peace and love? Why do we romanticize these indigenous people for their “superhuman” athletic ability that enables them to run miles with little sustenance? Why do we cheer the fact that people from all over the world paid thousands of dollars to run alongside indigenous runners- male and female Tarahumara of all ages- who are running simply because they want some food? This is what made me cry.
You don’t “help” a culture by romanticizing them or glorifying one aspect of their lives. You don’t “help” a culture by making them run 50 miles for a bag of beans and some GMO corn. You don’t “help” a culture by giving them handouts of jackets and food and congratulating yourselves.
This year the local government and business organizations sponsoring Caballo’s race cancelled it due to nearby violence (a massacre) associated with the drug trade. There was much fear, debate, sadness and confusion in Urique. Some people from other countries who had flown and bussed in for the race ran anyway- for the Rarámuri- for Caballo- for the joy of running. And then exhilarated by their running, they went home- away from the guns, empty bellies and noble Indians living in spectacular canyons.
Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco is an excellent documentary- of a man and his life story. You will learn about Micah True’s vision of who the Tarahumara are, why he went to the canyons and what he found there. You will learn about Christopher McDougall, Scott Jurek, Luis Escobar, Maria Walton and other non-indigenous runners. You will get an idea about why the Born to Run book was written, why ultra marathoners made the trek to Urique, Mexico and why Micah True started the Mas Locos running club. But please remember, this documentary is not about the Rarámuri. Hardly anything about these “amazing runners” in the film is accurate, although you’ll see some nice film clips of them running in the canyons where they live. Primarily, as the title states, you will learn The True Story of Caballo Blanco- why and how this American man loved to run.
Run on, yes, in peace and joy and harmony, but when you’re finished running- please take a moment to try to understand that when the Rarámuri say they want to “run free” and “be free,” they mean free from us! They want to be free to live their lives in the remote canyons without thousands of tourists, narcos, mestizos, social workers, runners, developers, anthropologists, tour guides, film makers, missionaries, museum collectors, movie stars, rock climbers, loggers, and other outsiders coming in, asking them questions, taking their pictures, and giving them handouts while telling them how to be.
I once heard a Mexican social worker say that when you ask the Rarámuri what they want, they say “Go away and leave us alone.”
But will we?
The movie Run Free: The True Story of Caballo Blanco showed in Durango CO on April 28th 2015 to a full house of over 200 people. It was introduced as a film “about running” and the crowd was excited. Afterwards there were lots of comments about “how cool” the Rarámuri were/are.
In Flagstaff AZ it showed the day before to a crowd of over 300. It was named the best documentary at the 2015 Arizona International Film Festival, out of 122 entries.
You can find a Facebook page on the film which provides information about upcoming showings. Also check out the website runfreemovie.com and Noren Films or just Google it- it's also listed on IMDB.