tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32492462.post3930169235239082371..comments2023-12-27T05:36:10.037+11:00Comments on Bolivia Rising: Bolivia – From colonialism to IndianismBolivia Risinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07931217260294325442noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32492462.post-45615371943789150132007-05-13T07:26:00.000+10:002007-05-13T07:26:00.000+10:00I recently returned from a 3 week vacation in Boli...I recently returned from a 3 week vacation in Bolivia and Peru. Me<BR/>and my friend, Mike, stayed in La Paz for a week, and I fell head over<BR/>heels in love with the city. Its density, vitality, and geography<BR/>were intoxicating. The indigenous culture permeated the whole city,<BR/>most of the merchants and vendors who lined nearly all the streets<BR/>were indigenous. The mamitas with their bowlers, beautiful skirts,<BR/>and vibrantly colored blankets on their backs carrying their wares and<BR/>their children (wawas), were ubiquitous once you left the main drag.<BR/><BR/>We were basically leisurely tourists, taking to heart Ivan Illich's<BR/>"To Hell With Good Intentions" and his exortation to "Come to look,<BR/>come to climb our mountains, to enjoy our flowers. Come to study. But<BR/>do not come to help." We spent our days and nights walking around La<BR/>Paz -- guided mostly by our whims and our noses.<BR/><BR/>One of the most magical meals of my life was right on the sidewalk<BR/>just uphill from the Plaza San Francisco. A round mamita sat on a<BR/>stool under a single bare lightbulb, surrounded first by cauldrons and<BR/>buckets and bags of food and then by about 25 locals of all types.<BR/>They were carrying on like a dinner party, devouring the fish, lamb,<BR/>chicken, potatos and rice the round lady dished out for them like an<BR/>octopus dipping her hands wrapped in little plastic bags into the<BR/>containers and piling up the vittles on plates. She was an entire<BR/>restaurant by herself, with a young mamita to help collect dishes and<BR/>wash them.<BR/><BR/>I devoured the rich, tender lamb chops, nibbling the fat off the bone,<BR/>sitting on a wooden bench next to an Argentine we had run into on a<BR/>Trufi ride to Tiwanaku. The hills were filled with lights, the street<BR/>had a steady stream of people running down it - a few would join the<BR/>island of food on the sidewalk, succumbing to the exortations of the<BR/>ocopus mamita to come eat. The lights that covered the hills climbing<BR/>up to El Alto made me feel as if the starry sky was inverted and I was<BR/>in the milky way itself. After the meal we bought some beers from an<BR/>old man around the corner and sat on a stoop to drink and watch the<BR/>people go by in the early evening.<BR/><BR/>Ok, so I'm not offering anyone some penetrating insights into the<BR/>political situation in Bolivia -- just confessing my love for the city<BR/>and people. I sat in cafes reading papers as much to practice my<BR/>spanish as to get a grip on what the riots along the gas pipeline in<BR/>the southeast were about. I read the graffiti which ranged from the<BR/>older "Goni is a Murderer", to "Thanks Evo for the telephones" to<BR/>"Indian Power = National Power" and many other references that I could<BR/>not decipher, including several supporting various hunger strikes.<BR/><BR/>In the end, what struck me most was the sheer presence and power of<BR/>indigenous people. As you climbed the hills up towards the rim and El<BR/>Alto it became even more pronounced. Between the nearly vertigo<BR/>inducing landscape with Illumani sitting on the horizon with a halo of<BR/>clouds, and the dense markets which lines both sidewalks and the<BR/>middle of the street in some areas -- I was dumbstruck and quickly<BR/>realized that my pre-conceptions regarding politics and culture in<BR/>this environment were worthless.<BR/><BR/>At the risk of making an ignorant comparison, Peru seemed quite<BR/>different. I enjoyed Peruvian hospitality *very* much, but it seems<BR/>that the mainstream political culture is much more enamored of their<BR/>dead indians than their living indians. Tho the U.S. is even worse in<BR/>this respect, where the dominant perception of native cultures are<BR/>that they were wiped out and are now dead and good mostly for<BR/>generating liberal guilt about the genocidal foundations of our<BR/>country, the occasional spiritual or cultural signifier of<BR/>authenticity, and casinos.<BR/><BR/>I have at least one counter-exmaple. The tour guide, Marieta, who<BR/>took us to the floating islands in the harbor of Puno spoke directly<BR/>to this, saying that Peru appeared very poor, but was very rich in<BR/>resources (which she proudly described to us on the boat ride out) but<BR/>that it had never had a government that was honest and was not ruled<BR/>by greed and thievery. The indians who lived on these islands had a<BR/>very rough life and were the descendents of a culture who had suffered<BR/>(yet also proved to be adaptable and ingenious) under several empires<BR/>before the Spaniards arrived. She said, only partly joking, that this<BR/>will soon change, because she will one day run for president and win.<BR/>Back on shore that evening, I suggested that maybe Peru will have an<BR/>indian president like Bolivia, and her face lit up and she said<BR/>grinning she hoped so and she would call us as soon as that happened.<BR/>There is certainly more to Peruvian indigenous political forces than<BR/>met my tourist eye.<BR/><BR/>So, what does some gringo from an relatively ignorant political<BR/>culture have to offer these people in terms of "critical support" for<BR/>their pachakuti or any of the other kinds of kibbutzing we often see<BR/>here and in other internationalist political forums? It seems to me<BR/>only friendship and the concrete political cooperation of social<BR/>relations across borders. Some political analysis, often coming with<BR/>admonishments to perform this or that political action, or chastise<BR/>actors for not going far enough in some political realm, appear to be<BR/>a tremendous waste of time and serve more the self-image of the<BR/>"critic" than solidarity.<BR/><BR/>I am in no way suggesting people "shut up" or that there be no<BR/>analysis or thought regarding these processes. I am saying that we<BR/>have *much* more to learn than we do to teach or critique. In that<BR/>context, some of the political analysis we get here is of limited<BR/>value IMO. This makes me really appreciate the work of people, like<BR/>Richard Fidler, who translate materials. Learning spanish<BR/>sufficiently to help in this project was one of the motivators of my<BR/>trip, but I'm admittedly not quite there yet!<BR/><BR/>--<BR/>Sincerely, Craig BrozefskyAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com