Ode to Colonial Humanitarianism

I am constantly amazed by the ability of North American culture to infiltrate virtually every corner of the planet. This week I was in Chuqui Chuqui, a small rural town about 1hr ½ outside of Sucre (please see photo above), sitting in a mud hut home and there, nailed into the disintegrating wall was a poster of Canada’s sweetheart- Avril Lavigne. I started laughing when I spotted her angelic face and so my boss, Dustin, had to ask me what was up (¿Qué tal?). I tried to explain to him that Avril is a Canadian celebrity who grew up outside of my hometown Toronto and that it was weird for me to see her all the way down here, but he didn’t seem to find it the least bit odd. Dustin’s uninterested reaction made me realize that people across the world are very used to seeing random B-list North American celebrities and that it isn’t that strange for them to appear in such remote places. I started wondering if anyone in Chuqui Chuqui had even ever heard an Avril Lavigne song before or if her poster was just mass-produced and then shipped out across the world to be scooped up by anyone infatuated by her bright blonde hair and girly-punkish style. My guess is however, that no one in Chuqui Chuqui has had the pleasure of hearing the masterpiece that is ‘Skaterboy’.

Thinking of the prowess of North American culture, I revisited a concept that was introduced to me formally in my final year at UBC, but that had certainly haunted me prior to that- Colonial Humanitarianism. It’s a concept that overwhelms me and drags me into hours of cyclical self-doubt and cynicism. Also known as neo-colonialism, it refers to the fact that a lot of humanitarian/aid work is frighteningly reminiscent of colonialism. It questions whether or not we are actually able to leave our ‘first world’ thinking at the door and work in partnership with developing nations without pushing our beliefs on them. It asks whether or not a new era of collaborative development work is possible when one side comes from an obvious position of privilege.

A movement known as North-South Solidarity has emerged within international development circles intending to combat the neo-colonial undertones found in development work by promoting relationships based on knowledge sharing (as opposed to just knowledge transfer or money transfer). CCI and FONCRESOL work under a solidarity partnership model. I also like to put international development work into this perspective, but I often wonder if it is possible for such a relationship to exist when CCI and myself are from ‘the North’ and inevitably bring with us our Western thinking/identity as hard as we may try to ditch it. It’s not even just that as Northerners we may have a hard time accepting that our way isn’t necessarily the right way, but it’s also that sometimes when you come from such a position of privilege you are viewed as the expert even though you’re not and don’t want to be. It has been ingrained worldwide that the North is ‘the first world’ and that the South is ‘the third world’ and so trying to shed those notions in order to reach a new development model (North-South solidarity) involves a huge paradigm shift on both sides.

While conducting focus groups with some of FONCRESOL’s rural clients I discovered that very few people save. I believe that everyone can save money regardless of income and that saving is an important step towards expanding one’s economic base, which is the goal of microfinance. Speaking with rural clients however, I began to question if that really is or should be the goal of microfinance. Everyone I spoke to was grateful to have the extra cash flow provided by their microcredit with FONCRESOL and they told me that they don’t save because ‘el dinero siempre tiene que trabajar’ (money always needs to be working). They don't see savings as making good use of their money; they are more inclined to invest it in capital for their farms or small businesses, even if those businesses aren’t especially profitable. Upon hearing this my gut instinct was to come up with ways to change this type of thinking, but then I had to take a step back and wonder if it was really so problematic. Everyone seemed happy living at the level they were living at and they were mostly concerned with sustaining themselves, their families and their businesses. In my head however, I kept thinking: ‘well, you can do more, you can save, you can grow!’ That’s when I noticed my North American roots shining through.
The accumulation of assets and wealth is a Western concept that associates one’s betterment with simply having more. Most development models (because they come from the North) are based on this type of thinking, but increased consumption doesn’t necessarily mean ‘development’ or ‘progress’. Look at the Western world right now- it’s a mess. Overconsumption has created many problems and so promoting capitalistic development tools to those who need to ‘catch up’ may not be the answer. There are a finite number of resources in the world; everyone can’t live the way we live. In order to achieve economic justice some people will unfortunately have to come down a few notches. I’m not trying to say that I don’t think the people of Chuqui Chuqui deserve more or need more, but sometimes I feel guilty promoting a consumption-based way of life, especially if that is not even their traditional way of thinking.

My thoughts concerning the urban clients are less conflicted, although I’m not quite sure why... I think it’s because in the cities, traditions and native culture have already begun to fade. Having said that, maybe it’s somewhat patronizing or unrealistic to suggest that traditional cultures need to be preserved (as if to suggest they're not allowed to change- they need to uphold their National Geographic image). Mario Vargas Llosa, in his The Culture of Liberty, refutes the argument that globalization is an evil force by reminding us that cultures have never been static, hermetically sealed entities. They have always been ebbing and flowing since the beginning of time, so how is it any different now? He argues that the changes we are seeing in the world aren’t always a result of globalization, sometimes it’s just modernization, which may not be such a bad thing. I see what he’s saying, but another part of me struggles to understand why ‘modernization’ and ‘progress’ always has to come at the expense of the poor.

Back to solidarity. The definition of solidarity can be somewhat ambiguous, but to me it means working in partnership towards a common goal. It means listening to both sides and sharing knowledge, skills and resources. It can be difficult sometimes because your view of ‘progress’ or ‘development’ may be different from whomever you’re working with, but your job as an ally is to accept and work with those views. For instance, if I were to work with a community that really wanted to learn English, but I felt imperialistic teaching them English, I would still probably do it because it is the language of the world and I would understand that they want to be able to communicate on a larger scale. The same goes for the work I’m doing now. Microfinance is a development tool that falls perfectly in place with the current neo-liberal market system and although I am not a proponent of this system and I believe that it should be changed, for now I am going to do what I can to help people 'play the game'. The game that we (developed nations) created and now master.

$$bLiNG bLiNg$$ money ain't a thang?

Last week I launched the market research phase of my project- which really just means that I began surveying FONCRESOL clients. I like to use the term ‘market research’ though because I secretly fantasize about being a big-time corporate executive and because I believe it is the right approach to use for the type of analysis I am trying to do. FONCRESOL, and all NGO’s for that matter, need to think of themselves as businesses because they are indeed organizations offering a service to consumers and therefore they should be very concerned with understanding what their clients want. Many NGO’s however, tend to be very product driven- they focus more on the service they deliver and less on understanding their clients’ needs and wants. I am not saying that NGO’s arbitrarily invent social services to offer, but I do think that sometimes after a while the initial mandate gets lost and organizations start to forget why they are doing what they are doing. Meanwhile, although it pains me to admit it, the corporate world has really nailed getting into consumers' heads and understanding their clients. In fact they’ve achieved this to such a freaky extent that iTunes can now read my mind and recommend music that I actually like and subsequently end up buying…

Last week I began using FONCRESOL’s caja communales (communal banks) as focus groups to probe clients about some of their feelings, attitudes and habits concerning money. Most groups were very quiet at the beginning of our discussions, but by the end everyone was participating and sometimes getting really fired up about the questions. Some examples of the types of questions I ask are: How do you feel when you have money? How do you feel when you don’t have money? Has anyone ever taught you how to manage your money? What do you think is the most important thing that everyone should know about money? Do you save your money? If so, do you use a savings account? If not, would you save if you could? What would you save for? Do you keep a budget at home and in your business? How many microfinance organizations do you work with? Why do you work with more than one? Etc. etc.

My findings so far have been that very few people keep a personal spending budget, no one has ever been taught money management skills, no one saves their money and most of FONCRESOL’s clients have at least 2 other loans with other NGO’s. When I asked why no one saves most people just said that it was impossible given their current financial situation. A surprising number of people said that they used to save, but they are no longer able to due to dramatic increases in the cost of living that have occurred since the Morales government has come into power. Previous to these conversations I was unaware that Bolivia had seen such a substantial change in the economy since the Morales government. At the same time, I need to remember that I am in Sucre, which isn’t known for being a MAS lovefest... I don’t really know what to make of these complaints because I have no way of knowing if prices have simply gone up because that’s what happens over the course of time (my Mom used to buy hot dogs for 10 cents) or if it is a result of the worldwide financial crunch or if the Morales government is in fact guilty of financial mismanagement.

I have been speaking with FONCRESOL’s rural and urban clients and there is a surprisingly amount of variance between the two groups. In the rural zone the problem of over indebtedness isn’t as prevalent as it is among urban clients, which is primarily due to the lack of service in the rural areas. Also, there were way fewer general complaints from rural clients than from urban clients. Urban clients went on about how disorganized their fellow group members are and how the loan amounts are too small. I’m pretty sure this has to do with how over saturated the microfinance market is in the urban zones. The growing availability of loans have made clients less responsible with their borrowing habits and more impatient.

These pictures and the ones of the señoras above are taken from a caja I visited outside of Sucre.

I had a question fired back at me during one of these chats, which was whether or not Canada (and other countries) were going to start decreasing their financial aid to Bolivia because of the MAS government. Luckily, I was able to answer that with a firm ‘no’ because the only country that really has anything against the Morales government is the United States and they have already severed most of their ties with Bolivia and vice versa. One thing I’m not so sure about though, but that I chose not bring up with our clients, is how the global economic crisis is going to affect Bolivia and more importantly whether or not it will affect the micro-economy and it’s microenterprises. My guess is that the crisis will hit Bolivia eventually, maybe not as fiercely as other parts of the world because the economy isn’t that tied to the United States, but there will surely be effects. Many people in the field of microfinance (specifically in Bolivia) are expecting that the number of people living on less than $1/day will likely increase over the next few years and that more people will be looking to access microfinance services. Sadly, this increase in demand will not be met by an increase in supply. Instead, as funds shrink in North America and Europe the amount of money NGO’s have access to will also shrink. As a result loans will get smaller and interest rates will have to increase to accommodate the large administration costs involved with processing so many small loans. This is a shame for many obvious reasons, but especially because microfinance institutions, like FONCRESOL, have worked for years to get their interest rates as low as possible and now these efforts will be erased.

Newscasters, journalists and politicians are often quick to use the word crisis. There was the oil crisis, the food crisis, the housing crisis, the climate crisis and Mexico even had a tortilla crisis. The funny thing is, although we don’t hear about those crises anymore, they still exist and they have all contributed to the economic crisis we are faced with today. Our refusal to act upon problems that have existed for years has brought this all upon ourselves. So as governments start to moan and whine about having to clean up the messy economy, we have to be careful that they don’t start using these ‘hard times’ to justify cutting corners around money allocated to social services and international aid. Harper has already been accused of using the recession to legitimize the slashing of government spending that isn’t aligned with his neo-conservative agenda. Real solutions need to start happening fast and I don’t think that saving the people and institutions that provoked these problems is the right idea. Nor do I think doing nothing is the right idea- Yes, I’m looking at you Harper...
I guess when parliament gets back from their vacation we will have a better idea of what he has up his sleeve and lets hope that it’s a least something. Even one of those funny, long, multicolored handkerchiefs that magicians use would be better than what he’s been serving up lately.

Sucre: Capital Plena? [Sucre: The Complete Capital?]

This Monday I had the afternoon off because the prefecutra (state government) declared a feriado (holiday) to honor negro noviembre (black November), which occurred this time last year.
November 24-26 2007 there were some serious protests here in Sucre. Chuquisaqueños (people from the state of Chuquisaca) took to the streets to demonstrate their desire to have the seat of government return to Sucre, the nation’s constitutional capital. Other issues fueling the fury included their ongoing opposition to the MAS government and the new constitution. MAS, Movimiento al Socialismo, is Morales’ party and after the protests last year the prefect (governor) in power at the time who also represented MAS had to flee to Peru when his house was violently attacked. Now the prefect of Chuquisaca is Savina Cuéllar who represents the party ACI- Alianza Comité Interinstitucional. She is a 45-year-old indigenous Quechua woman who used to be a member of the MAS party, but switched over when Evo’s new constitution rejected Sucre as the full capital.

**The white flag with the red cross is the flag of Sucre and the green, yellow and red one is the flag of Bolivia**
Sucre is a conservative, provincial little town that has always been ruled by a small privileged group of people, and the state of Chuquisaca is part of the Media Luna- a group of Bolivian states staunchly opposed to the new constitution and the MAS government. Now that there is a national government in power with plans to shake up the country’s distribution of power and wealth at a constitutional level, this privileged group has their panties in a bit of a knot. In Chuquisaca, there is also this deeply rooted desire to have the seat of government return to Sucre, which I find quite strange. The city is still technically the capital of the country- everyone recognizes it as the official and constitutional capital it’s just that the seat of government happens to be in La Paz. Sucre doesn’t even have the infrastructure to support all those executive government offices and agencies and the city would completely lose its old colonial charm if mass construction took place in order to accommodate the executive branches. Furthermore, if the seat of government suddenly moved here everyone currently holding office in the Chuquisaca government would probably lose their jobs given that a different party than the federal government governs Chuquisaca. It would be like the seat of government moving from Washington, D.C. to San Francisco under the Bush administration. Except in this case the federal government is left wing and the state government is the prehistoric one.

The truth is, I shouldn’t really be voicing an opinion on all this. I am not Bolivian, I am not from Sucre and therefore I do not truly understand the context of today’s political strife. The problem is I couldn’t write about anything else because this week’s events have overwhelmed me and given the city a strange feeling. Around the government offices and the central plaza there have been vigils, ceremonies, presentations and canons firing to commemorate last year’s political ‘struggle’. One thing I can’t ignore though is the fact that 3 university students did in fact die in the protests after coming into violent contact with military forces sent by the federal government- MAS. I am not heartless and I recognize that any death is a tragedy that deserves to be honored, but this holiday gave me a weird feeling because it completely ignored the other side of the story. And there is a big other side of the story.

What the Sucre newspapers failed to mention, but what everyone in Bolivia knows, is that during these protests dozens of campesinos were publicly humiliated and demoralized. That’s why when your driving through the streets of La Paz you see endless murals saying: ‘Sucre: capital del racisimo’ (Sucre: capital of racism). The rural population of Chuquisaca supports the MAS party and the new constitution so the protesters took out some of their anger on this community. They stripped campesinos in the plaza, burned the whipala (the flag of indigenous groups of the Andean region) and essentially drove them out of the city center. Tons of campesinos were injured, but conveniently there are no published statistics on this.
Another interesting fact about last year’s protests is that they where mainly led by professors and students from the city’s main university San Francisco Xavier. Sucre is known for being a student city and that is part of what gives it some of its charm. People come from all over the country and from neighboring countries to study here. In the past it was a place of progressive thought and innovation and maybe it still is, but a strong right wing faction has developed and many say that the professors are the ones behind it. Some even argue that professors have used scare tactics to convince their students to jump on the bandwagon.

That’s all I really know about this or at least all I have to say about it. I just couldn’t believe the spread that Monday’s newspaper issued honoring this event. It was the most one-sided news article I think I have ever read. Walking through the streets on Monday I was also handed propaganda booklets about Morales and the MAS government being terrorists. And again, maybe they are- what do I know? Maybe Morales doesn’t actually know what he’s doing and maybe he is Chavez' little puppet and I just don’t want to believe it.
And maybe I am just a naïve gringa, blinded by my own idealism and enchanted by the idea of a marginalized group finally having a political voice.

Trans: Welcome to Sucre- the White City.

Continuing with the theme of being one-sided I decided to add this very one-sided cartoon. It is commenting on the fact that not only is Sucre literally a white city because of all the old colonial buildings, but it is also a 'white' city because only the white seem to rule. The images in the red circle are silhouettes of people wearing typical native garb.

Heart of Gold

Never has a place given me such a strong feeling...

As soon as you arrive in Potosi, the city’s hundreds of years of history and struggle hit you like a ton of bricks and the cold climate and high altitude ensures that you feel it all deep inside your bones. The cobblestone streets are narrow and the buildings are beautiful, but dilapidated and they look like they haven’t been touched since the colonial era. A couple blocks outside of the city center, everything disintegrates even more. The rundown historic look changes to torn up gravel roads and buildings/homes that look as though they are under construction and that they have been forever, but this is how people live.

Our first day we went to visit communal bank just 10 minutes from the main plaza. When the meeting was over, as I watched the president walk home, I couldn’t believe that I was standing in what used to be the biggest and wealthiest city in all of Latin America.

The second day we visited another communal bank . It was one of FONCRESOL’s largest and oldest communal banks and the members were cheery and excited to see us. They even shared their lunch with us, which was a small bowl of pasta and root vegetables cooked in aji- a deliciously spicy sauce made from hot chillies.

Speaking of Potosi cuisine, the morning we arrived I tried K'alaphurka- a traditional soup made from maize, served in a ceramic bowl with a hot volcanic rock in it to ensure that it arrives at your table bubbling and steaming. It is a savory, filling dish eaten in the morning and it is apparently best enjoyed with Paceña Negra, a dark malt beer that my boss ordered for us at 9am.

At 4070m Potosi can actually be relatively warm during the day because of the extreme UV rays, but as soon as the sun sets the cold is almost unbearable. At night the streets are lined with food vendors and restaurants offering hearty meals to ward off the nighttime chill, but it doesn’t do much to distract one from Potosi's frigid vibe. The problem is that there’s a dark shadow haunting Potosi- the Cerro Rico (rich hill). It's the mountain that made Potosi Potosi and it's a constant reminder of the city’s past and present dependency on the mining industry.

I decided to take a mine tour on my last day in Potosi. Mine tours are readily available for tourists, but they are not highly recommended. Lonely Planet says that if you are willing to inhale asbestos and large amounts of dust for a couple hours while climbing through claustrophobia inducing mine shafts, then you’re in for an unforgettable experience. Otherwise, the guidebook strongly suggests that you should refrain from entering the mines if you have any doubts whatsoever. I definitely had my doubts, but it was just one of those things I knew I had to do, even if I was going to hate every minute of it.

The mines that run tours are cooperative mines owned by the workers' unions. My guide, Ronaldo, used to be a miner, but his family made him leave the industry because of the horrible working conditions and the estimated 45-year lifespan of most miners. Instead, Ronaldo decided to study tourism and give mine tours.
Given the terrible conditions of the mines, mine tours aren’t the most popular tourist activity. My tour just consisted of myself, Ronaldo and another girl from Germany. I was extremely grateful for the small group size, not only because it gave me a chance to harass Ronaldo with all sorts of questions, but also because it meant that Ronaldo could give us both an extra helping hand as we struggled to pull ourselves through tiny crevices on our stomachs while rocks slid from underneath us.

Our morning began with a trip to the miners market where the miners stop on their way up to the Cerro. Here you can find stands selling dynamite, mining equipment, alcohol and coca leaves galore. The purchase and sale of dynamite is completely legal in Potosi because of the mining industry. It was pretty crazy to see it all just sitting there in bulk though, and it was even crazier to buy some. It’s recommended that tourists entering the mines buy some ‘treats’ for the miners that they will meet along the way. The mines are totally active and work does not pause for tours. The tour includes pressing yourself up against the mineshaft walls as mine carts pass by and explosions can be heard from within the mountain throughout the tour. For this reason it’s a good idea to bring some provisions with you as a peace offering for the miners whose work you are interrupting. My offering consisted of some sticks of dynamite, a 2L bottle of Coca-Cola and a big bag of coca leaves to top up everyone's stash.
This is Ronaldo in the miners market holding a plate of coca leaves:

After the market we went to the refinery plant where we learned about how they turn rocks into silver. It was weird because the stuff they extract from the mines really just looks like gravel, but upon closer inspection it has a bit of a glitter to it. In the refinery they melt the rocks down and then separate the liquid waste from the actual silver. The silver surfaces in the form of foam and then the foam is somehow turned into a sand-like substance that is basically pure silver. Ronaldo stuck his finger in it and gave me a ring. How sweet.

Arriving at Candelaria mine I couldn’t believe how primitive it looked. Outside the mine entrance were little mud huts that the workers use to put their belongings in during shifts. It seemed as though nothing had changed since the colonial era. When I shared this thought with Ronaldo he said that’s because nothing has changed. The equipment and technology used in the Potosi mines is pretty much the same stuff they used back in the day. Some of the refinery technology has evolved, but basically they are just struggling away down there like they did hundreds of years ago. The only difference is that now the mines are no longer employed by African/Indian slaves, and the workers no longer stay down there for 4 months at a time. Today miners work a much more reasonable shift from about 5am to 2am and they aren't thought of as slaves anymore- just really low paid laborers working in nightmarish conditions.

A couple meters into the mine we saw a shrine to Tío (Uncle). Appropriately so, the miners think of the mines as hell/the underworld and therefore Tio is the devil who watches over the mine. Miners pray to Tio so that he will keep them safe while they are working and they also make offerings to Tio of coca leaves and alcohol in order to ensure their safety.

Most mines in the Cerro have 3-5 levels. Candelaria has 3 and we worked our way down all of them. The Cerro is of volcanic origin so the further down you go the hotter (and dustier) it gets. This factor combined with the 4000m+ altitude made the tour pretty challenging. There were points where I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to catch my breath due to the exhausting effects of the high altitude and all the debris I was inhaling. To visit one group of miners we had to slide down a mineshaft on a wooden ramp that appeared to be from the beginning of time using our legs to brace ourselves along the edges. After this we crawled through a passage that didn’t look like it was made for humans, but somehow we managed to contort ourselves and make it through. Throughout the entire tour I had no idea how Ronaldo was navigating the mine. It seemed like a labyrinth to me....We ended up in an opening where we found a group of men with big lumps of coca in their cheeks, hacking away with their picks at the rock walls. They were actually relatively happy to see us and enjoyed the coca refill and the extra stick of dynamite.

This is a very strained smile. Ronaldo thought it would be a great action shot, but I was just hanging on for dear life and wondering if I was going to get splinters through my fashionable mining pants.

After this we went to visit two men who spend their days shoveling rocks into rubber buckets that go up to the first level on a pulley system. These men are called the paleros (shovelers). Below you will see a video of them working and then a photo of me shoveling with them for a bit. They thought it would be funny to see my attempt at working and they were right… it was pretty pathetic and very entertaining for them. I didn't mind the laughs at my expense though, I figured I was doing them a favor by providing them with some entertainment. They could spend the rest of the day laughing at the spoiled gringa who came to visit.

At this point I was pretty ready to go. My muscles were weak from the altitude and I was tired of breathing in chemicals and dust. I was so happy to see the light of day when we climbed back out of the mine. I felt pretty lame though considering we were only down there for 2 hours and I already wanted to die. The miners stay down there for about 18 hours on average without eating or drinking. They just chew wads of coca leaves to ward of hunger and stay energized.
Here’s a photo of Ronaldo and I. Another thing I learned on this tour is that I am way too tall to be a miner. I think ideal miner height is about 5 feet.

I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to visit Potosi, but after 3 days I was already missing Sucre. Potosi is a fascinating, hard working city, but for an outsider it's dark history and struggling present situation makes it a somewhat difficult and eery place to be.

Everyone I met in Potosi was friendly and happy and very proud of their city- which they should be. It truly is a magnificent place that deserves more attention.

We Fight for Diamonds

I can still hardly believe that Obama won the election. Not because I don’t think that he should have, it’s just that during the entire campaign all I could think about was the fact that the Americans voted for Bush, not once, but twice. This memory kept my faith in the American populous very low so even when the polls were telling me that Obama was going to win, I couldn’t believe it until it was for real. And now it is for real. 4 realzzzzzzzz.

Finally, 40 years after the civil rights movement, there is an African American president leading what is still arguably the world’s most powerful nation. I know changes won’t happen overnight, but the USA’s international reputation has already skyrocketed. Almost every world leader (other than Kim Jung Ill, who right now is in fact quite ‘ill’) has issued a very public, warm welcome statement to Obama. The day after the election, everyone’s favorite Hugo Chavez pulled a complete 180 and exclaimed the he is excited work with Obama. He said that he is interested in working with Obama on some of the major international issues he addressed in his campaign. ¿qué? Chavez excited to work with an American? This is definitely a complete turn around considering Chavez’ feelings towards Bush can only be classified as extremely hostile (I classify referring to someone as ‘Satan himself’ as hostile).

The fact that Chavez has already showed a strong willingness to work with Obama indicates great potential for change in USA-Venezuela relations, which right now are pretty desolate looking. Current USA-Venezuela relations are somewhat reminiscent of the relationship a crack dealer has with a crack addict. Crack being oil, the addict the USA, and the dealer Venezuela. 1) They don’t really talk to each other. 2) They don’t really want to work together. 3) The addict keeps coming back for more even though he pretends not to need it. 4) The dealer just wants the business. 5) The dealer makes fun of his customer behind his back to his other dealer friends (in this case, OPEC and other socialist Latin American states) and even though the addict hears these rumors he can’t do anything about it because he is truly addicted to the dealer’s goods.

**Trans: Chavez- "You are the devil, you smell like sulfur, you are a drunk, you are a demon, you are a genocide Mr. Devil, you are a dictator, you are an assassin Mr. Devil, you are..." Bush- "Yeah, yeah whatever you say, just fill up the tank!"

Luckily, we could soon see this love-hate relationship evolve into something less destructive. Hopefully Obama’s willingness to dialogue with the nation states that the Bush administration previously declared ‘off limits’ will help the old cronies in the US government understand that every alliance in the world (socialists in Latin America, China-Russia, EU states etc.) isn’t out to get them.
Morales has also expressed a similar enthusiasm for Obama’s election, saying that it is a positive sign of progress for the United States. I also think he is pretty pleased to see a visible minority as the nation’s leader. Morales is not a minority, but he definitely knows what it’s like to be treated like one.

Barack has a huge task laid out in front of him. He won’t change the country overnight. He may not even accomplish half of the stuff he wants to, but the fact that he is there is change enough. I don’t care if that sounds cheesy. Oprah's right.

Tomorrow we are traveling to the FONCRESOL office in Potosí. Next week’s post will provide more details on this trip so for now I just want to give some background information...
Potosí was the most important and prosperous city in South America during the good old days of colonialism, but now it has a lower human development index than Haiti. During its heyday they say that the amount of silver being exported to Spain was enough to build an entire bridge of silver all the way from Potosí to Madrid (Look at that distance on a map- it’s far!). Unfortunately, the Spanish colonizers completely drained an entire mountain worth of silver deposits in Potosí. This over-extraction created a surplus of silver in the Spanish monetary system, which caused ridiculously high inflation rates and the demise of the Spanish empire. When Spain fell Potosí lost its greatest investor and it has continued to struggle since. The mining industry lives on, but it is no longer silver-based. Now it’s mainly tin, but in the 1980’s the world tin market collapsed and many miners fled Potosí looking for work in Northern Argentina or elsewhere in Bolivia. There is a high rate of child labor in the Potosí mines, partially because the conditions are often too horrible for an adult to even fit in the mine shaft, but mainly because most of the older men have left to look for other work and families are desperate for a source of income.



We’re going to Potosí to evaluate their communal banking programs, which have been operating much longer than the Sucre programs due to the city’s soaring poverty levels. My research in Potosí will consist of talking to with credit officials to get their perspective on the financial behaviors, skills and attitudes of their clients and then I will also talk to clients to try and determine some of their thoughts and feelings towards money. These discussions will help indicate the strengths and weaknesses of clients' financial knowledge and assist with curriculum/workshop design down the road. I will do similar needs assessments in Sucre because that is where my project is based, but having a chance to chat with folks in Potosí will provide me with a greater level of understanding of the financial behaviors of FONCRESOL clients.

Speaking of mining… BBC news just issued an interesting article about the lithium deposits that exist in the salt flats in the Andean plains of Bolivia.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/7707847.stm
Lithium is the stuff found in batteries and laptops and the salt flats lying about 4 hours outside of Potosí apparently contain 50% of the world’s lithium supply. Auto manufacturers are really revved up about this. Lithium is a big deal for them because enough lithium could bring the electric car back from the dead. GM, Toyota, Nissan-Renault and Mitsubishi are already on the hunt. The only problem is that they estimate that within 10 years the demand for lithium will multiply by five and lithium, like petroleum, is a finite resource.
Can someone remind me again why we aren’t spending more time thinking about better public transportation? If lithium will help with that, then fine- I’m in, but we seem to be missing the point…

In Bolivia, Morales and the minister of mining are being very cautious with this hot new resource. They still have memories of what happened in Potosí and other regions of the country where foreign investors took over. They know that the money always ends up going somewhere else, so Morales isn’t too eager to start selling off portions of the salt flats. The government is looking into some plans to make a nationalized plant, but the residents of the region don’t want to start extracting the resource. They are old mining families who are scarred by previous exploitative industries and just want to keep working and living as they are.
This quote from the Bolivia’s mining minister at the end of BBC article pretty much hits the nail on the head:
"The capitalist leaders have to change," he says. "If all the world had consumers like North America, everyone with a car, it would grind to a halt. It is also going to generate pollution, not just from fossil fuels but also from lithium plants, which produce sulfur dioxide. This isn't a magic solution.”

Todos Santos

This weekend Bolivia celebrated Todos Santos, a tradition paying homage to the dead that begins at noon on November 1 and continues until noon on November 2. The tradition has Catholic and indigenous roots and is a fascinating mix between supernatural, religious and esoteric beliefs. Families remembering a loved one flock to the cemetery to hold vigils and set up altars for the soul and sometimes they will sit there for hours and enjoy some of the food they have brought with them. It is said that the angelitos (child souls) visit the cemetery on November 1 and that the adults come on November 2. I went to the cemetery both mornings to check out what was happening and I’m glad I went because it was so interesting to see a cemetery transformed into such a lively, happy place. Of course there were tears here and there, but overall I have to say the crowds of people flowing in and out seemed happy to be sharing the day with one and other.


Outside the cemetery were rows of flower vendors and food stands catering to the masses. It was refreshing to see a cemetery and the theme of death being approached in a much more uplifting way than the way it is viewed in North American society. At home cemeteries are usually off limits, not places to hang out and spend the afternoon, and they certainly aren’t this colorful. The Sucre cemetery is actually one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen here. The graves are stacked in walls one on top of another and each has a glass window with it’s own unique decorations. Little boys work in the cemetery year round and help families put flowers and candles in the graves using ladders to reach up to the higher rows. In some areas the walls of graves are so tall that there are staircases reaching up to the various levels. I managed to capture some photos of all this, but I felt guilty for being an obnoxious tourist wandering around preying on people’s personal moments with my camera…

On the afternoon of November 2 the celebration continues. From noon onwards families who have lost someone within the past 2 years hold a small (or somewhat out of control) celebration in their homes called a kanchaku. For the most part kanchakus are public events where anyone can enter so you can literally wander the streets and just walk in, but some are more formal and require an invitation. A kanchaku will have a large altar inside to honor the soul that consists of traditional foods, flowers, drinks and photos. Everything on the table has a specific meaning and reason for being there. There are various symbols made of bread like a sun and moon, and a ladder, which is said to help the soul reach heaven.

The souls visit the living world for 24 hours and during this time it is recommended to light a candle to ensure that they have a comfortable stay. If the flame starts to spark it’s a bad sign and usually means that the soul is sad, but if it burns normally the soul is happy and will pass on it’s happiness to whoever is paying it respect. The candles are blown out at noon on November 2 so that the soul's trip back to heaven isn’t delayed because it is said the doors to heaven close at this time. As the souls leave the altars, the festivities begin and visitors start arriving anytime after noon. Upon entry to a kanchaku you are expected to pray at the altar and then the family offers you a plethora of alcoholic beverages and food. Children don’t partake in the alcoholic portion of the celebration, but they are given lots of cookies and sweets. The adults on the other hand are served drinks with no ifs, ands or buts, and for this reason a kanchaku can last well into the late evening.
I had the opportunity to visit two of these celebrations with my coworkers. The first one we went to was relatively formal and required an invitation. We were served drinks by the family and were given lots of goodies to take home with us- kinda like a loot-bag, but with more meaning. The second one we went to was much larger and less formal. Although the home appeared to be in a lower-income area, the altar here was a lot bigger and piled with food and drink. We ended up staying at this second one for a really long time… Everyone was sitting outside under a tarp because it was raining and drinking from communal bowls filled with colorful alcoholic beverages. One was chicha, a fermented corn drink and the other was just some fruity sugary concoction. I stuck with the fruity stuff. The bowls of liquor were scattered about and people grouped around them passing around only one or two shared cups while toasting one another. In Bolivia it is rude not to invite someone to drink along with you so we basically sat there passing around a cup cheers-ing one another for hours on end. In case you’re wondering, this is a very efficient way to consume alcohol. Perhaps too efficient… Thank heavens (gotta do a pun every now and then) that Monday was a day off so I had some time to recuperate after my cultural immersion.

Despite the foggy memories, my Todos Santos experience really made me think about the way death is portrayed in North American and Western European societies. There is a strong disconnect between the living and the dead and many people almost seem to experience a sense of shame when remembering lost loved ones. The mourning process is so rushed and it’s more common to try and think of ways that you can get over the pain than ways that you can celebrate it by inviting over everyone you know for a few drinks. Here it is actually obligatory for a family to hold a kanchaku for 2 years after someone has passed away and after that everyone flocks to the cemetery without question. In the Western world, families certainly take time to remember those who have passed away in their own way, but having an official national holiday makes is so different. It is a sense of shared grief and remembrance that it totally accepted and celebrated- not hidden. Catholicism believes that what waits after this life is another life, and according to the Aymara and Quechua beliefs (two of the largest Bolivian indigenous communities) death is cause for happiness because to pass from this world onto the next is a natural and wonderful step.

Today is back to work, but even down here all eyes are on the United States as today’s election results begin to pour in. Amidst the election frenzy however, the continued worsening of USA-Bolivian relations goes unnoticed. Late last week Morales announced the suspension of all of the USDEA’s (United States Drug Eradication Agency) activities in the country claiming that they have been conspiring against the government. The president of the constituent assembly, who is of indigenous and cocalero (coca farmer) background, said that (paraphrasing)… ‘if the DEA can’t have a positive role in Bolivia in the fight against drug trafficking then they might as well go’. Morales feels that the DEA worries more about punishing the campesino cocaleros than trying to control the actual chemicals used to make the drug cocaine. The Bolivian government holds that the cocaleros have their own methods for controlling coca production and do not need the DEA to set rules for them. In Bolivia coca production is something traditional and not destined for drug trafficking.
This story will not get any play right now, but there is no doubt that with an economic crisis, and wars in Iraq and Afghanistan on their hands, the USA probably doesn’t want to start fighting with Latin American leaders- not even Morales.