Paraguay, Late July, and the Revocatorio

A Paraguayan Perspective

I have been on vacation from my research for the past two weeks, so this entry consists mostly of cultural commentary and some updates on political developments in Bolivia. I am currently in transit to Peru from Asuncion, Paraguay, where I have been resting up and visiting a friend. Asuncion is the capital city, with a proud post-colonial history and a beautiful location along the Rio Paraguay.

Paraguay is similar to Bolivia in many ways, with a noticeably higher level of development and apparent quality of life. Ironically, Asuncion seemed much more dangerous than any of the Bolivian cities I have been in. Most houses in nice neighbourhoods have private guards because of the very real risk of kidnapping and armed robbery. A house we visited often had been robbed at gunpoint by three men in broad daylight less than a week before I arrived. The police are not trusted, regarded either as too cowardly to stand up to crime or complicit with the perpetrators. Corruption is still very much at large in the low (and high?) levels of government and law enforcement, in Paraguay as well as in Bolivia.

The countryside outside Asuncion looked healthy and often picturesque. On a trip to an ecological preserve, I got a glimpse of untarnished landscape that I imagined all of South America to look like before the constructs of modern civilization. This continent truly is a diverse and beautiful place. With the exception of simple roads, the fields and forests and farmhouses look much as they have for hundreds of years. The grinding poverty visible outside of Bolivian cities and along the highways was not to be seen in Paraguay, which may have as much to do with better farmland as with less agrarian oppression than in Bolivia.

One of the biggest differences between Paraguay and Bolivia is the colonial legacy in each country. Paraguay was the only Spanish colony where intermarrying with Native Americans was mandatory, and as a result the population is almost entirely mestizo, a mix between Spanish and indigenous Guaraní. This is a strong contrast to the culturally and geographically close Argentinean population, which is almost entirely of European descent, and is resented by Paraguayans for its arrogant attitude towards other South American countries.

Paraguayans consider themselves to be ethnically and culturally mixed, and while social and economic stratification is still clear, and poverty is still a problem, their political conflicts and issues lack that most polarizing element: race. Bolivia remains remarkably separated ethnically. There are 36 identifiable ethnic groups in the country, the most in Latin America, from the Aymara and Quechua of the altiplano to the diverse tribal groups of the Amazon basin and eastern lowlands.

The lack of racial integration has helped protect the heritage and culture of these indigenous groups, but it has also deepened social and political separations along pre-existing racial (and corresponding geographic) lines. This longstanding pattern of separation, especially between indigenous groups and whites and mestizos, is responsible for much (some would say most) of the antagonism and public hostility that accompanies Bolivian politics today.

The Paraguayan perspective on Bolivian society and politics was interesting, coming from a close neighbour with many social and economic similarities. Even upper class Paraguayans, who generally oppose his politics, considered Evo´s election a sign of hope for a country where indigenous oppression has been harsh and visible, and whose modern society is viewed as both racist and classist. A common view is that opposition to Evo is mainly the result of whites and mestizos who cannot stand to see an Indian ruling the country. This portrayal of the essence of the political conflict is common, and undoubtedly truthful to some extent, but as I have argued before I do not think that racism alone can explain Bolivia´s social problems. Race is certainly a powerful force for manipulation and propaganda, but the interests and motives behind racist rhetoric and action are more complex.

Revocatorio Anticipation: Political Temperature Rising in Bolivia

Back on the subject of Bolivian politics, the situation is as dynamic as ever. An opposition Senator submitted an objection to the legality of the law that enacted the Revocatorio back in May to the only remaining member of the Constitutional Tribunal in Sucre. The other 4 members of Bolivia´s highest court, appointed by the former right-wing president, had all resigned in protest over political interference (or after interfering unconstitutionally in the internal processes of the constitutional assembly), and the divided Legislature has not been able to agree on new judges. Despite the fact that a Tribunal decision must be reached by at least 3 members, the lone judge called for the Referendum to be postponed until the full tribunal could convene to review the vote´s constitutionality.

As expected, opposition Senators and the lone prefect who still refuses to participate in the Revocatorio (Cochabamba´s Manfred Reyes Villa, who actually originally proposed the idea more than a year ago, but who would likely be voted out of office on August 10) exalted the Judge´s decision and called for the government to obey. The Government called the Judge a traitor to democracy and ignored the request, while the National Electoral Court insisted that the constitutionally legislated vote must go ahead as planned unless it is refuted by Congress or a fully convened court.

It is unlikely that the vote is going to be stopped, though there is some speculation that the big date of August 10 will be just another Sunday. Either way, the build-up to the Revocatorio is in high gear. “Tensions are building in Bolivia”, as one international news headline declared. Evo´s ministers are accusing the oligarchic media of a concerted campaign to undermine the Revocatorio and cast doubt on the Presidency. They are also concerned about violence leading up to the vote, specifically from militant right-wing youth groups such as Santa Cruz´s Union Juvenil Cruceñista, which has been accused of Fascist affiliations and has been the instigator of racist violence several times in the past year.

The coalition of opposition prefects, meanwhile, announced plans to start protesting the day after the Revocatorio for a national referendum on the capital issue. They have learned, from the upheaval that they helped create in Sucre back in November, that the capitalía issue is a symbolic and passionate one for many Bolivians. It was instrumental in helping the opposition expand its popular support from the media luna into the Chuquisaca province during the past year.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the current constitution only allows for one national referendum a year, and this year´s recall referendum means that next year is the earliest possible vote on the new constitution. If the opposition prefects can push the capitalía issue effectively, they may be able to stall the constitutional referendum for another year, working in the meantime to fortify their autonomy statutes and weaken Evo.

On the economic front, the opposition is denouncing the central government’s renta dignidad, the first ever national pension plan. It covers all citizens over 60, and according to independent economic analysts has lowered the poverty levels by a full 2%. The catch: it is funded by the Direct Tax on Hydrocarbons (IDH), which the media luna prefects denounce as government interference in their economic affairs. The funny thing is that, by the numbers, IDH revenues to the media luna states have increased steadily every year since Evo took office.

Gas producer Tarija, with 4% of Bolivia´s population, gets a full one third of all IDH revenues. Along with Santa Cruz, Beni, and Pando, departmental revenues have increased between 100 and 200% between 2005, just before hydrocarbon nationalization began, and 2008.

Once again, these hard statistics came from an independent economist blog. The contrast with press coverage is startling. Economic headlines in Bolivian newspapers almost always deal only in statements and claims from politicians, mostly from the opposition. There is rarely any investigative journalism that produces facts rather than opinions, and of the few “investigations”, several turned up stories that turned out to be partially fabricated or entirely untrue.

Information is not easy to come by in Bolivia. Within the country, news sources are saturated with bias, and the lines between opinions and analysis are blurry at best. In the international news world, analysis is clouded by one-sided interviews (with US ambassadors, misinformed NGO executives, etc) and the aforementioned lack of solid information coming out of Bolivia.

With that in mind, I will try to keep my blog updated with developments as they happen. There remains less than 2 weeks until the Recall Referendum, and the intensity and unpredictability of the political scene is only likely to increase until August 10. I will be back in La Paz several days before the vote, and I can only hope for excitement and not violence. From Bolivia, signing off.

La vida paceña

I have been in La Paz now for more than a week, and have had far more than a week´s worth of challenges and experiences. I have a handle on this city, now, a least compared with how dizzying life here was at first. I know the streets, and can find my way around without a map. I have also gotten used to the pace of the city, its people and traffic and commerce. Walking the streets here is not only a workout; it also demands patience, quick reflexes, vigilance, and decisiveness. People walk more in the street than on the narrow and crowded sidewalks, and honking autos are either warning you to get out of the way or inviting you to ride, or both.

As for traffic, it is frantic and chaotic but somehow functional. Gas is about four times as cheap here as in the U.S., and there is much money to be made in the high-demand urban transportation industry. Taxis are everywhere, of course, but just as omnipresent and far more impressive is the vast fleet of individually owned and operated buses. There are school/tour bus-sized micros, painted in vibrant colors and images, which somehow manage to fit down narrow cobblestone streets. Even more numerous are the minis: customized VW-size Nissan, Toyota, Mazda, and generic vans from the 80s and early 90s that, when full, hold about 15 people, including the person (usually a younger boy but sometimes a middle-aged woman or man) who hangs out the window shouting the vehicle’s route and destinations, collects the modest fare from passengers (1-2 bolivianos, or about 20 cents), and opens or closes the sliding die door as people fold or unfold themselves in and out of the van.

Needless to say, public transportation is an adventure. Drivers weave their passengers through streets and traffic with an impressive combination of aggressiveness and dexterity, stopping in the street whenever a pedestrian throws out their arm for a ride. Traffic moves fast and often unpredictably, and on busy calles and intersections vehicles are rarely more than a foot apart as they honk, brake, swerve and accelerate through congestion. Outside of the centro, traffic is thinner but driving style is just as fast and aggressive, as I have learned during my two trips down the valley to the suburb of Zona Sur.

Crossing the street is an act of faith and quick reflexes,
A freestyle dance with multiple partners made of steel,
A game of rapid decision-making
Where even the most proud scamper and dodge
To the symphony of honking horns
Occasional traffic lights aside,
The game is unregulated and constant,
Life hums on a few inches from injury or death,
And no one thinks twice.

As interesting as the traffic in La Paz is the food. Everything is fresh and local, most of it coming through the markets full of produce, grains, and meat that I have described. Food can be had in whatever manner you might wish: fruit from a blanket, soup from a pot on the sidewalk, salteñas and empanadas from roving carts, meet from grilling stalls, set lunches from local restaurants, strong coffee and pastries from corner cafés, ice cream from pushcarts, or full meals from venues of all varieties of sanitation and cost. Rice is a staple, as is meat, for the protein-hungry Bolivian diet. Fresh juices, beer, and bottled water are the drinks that accompany meals. Maté de coca, or tea from the coca leaf, is the hot beverage of choice at any time of the day, the natural counterweight to the thin air and steep hills of the altiplano.

I have patronized various and diverse food styles and locations, from tourist-friendly sandwich shops to ethnic restaurants to takeout carts to hole-in-the-wall family restaurants that fill with locals during the dinner hours, and I haven’t always been as careful with my food’s sanitation as I maybe should. Other travelers I have talked to have had devastating cases of salmonella and food poisoning, but avoiding obviously sketchy food and not drinking the water has kept me clear of any serious ills thus far.

Tourism in La Paz is surprisingly low-key, considering the incredible amount of outdoor activities, cultural site excursions, and tours that are run out of this city. There is only really one area of the city that is remotely touristy, and that is the neighbourhood with the indigenous markets, artisan shops, and of course hostels and restaurants which cater to tourists. Tourists here are not the type you find in Europe, or Mexico even; most people who come here are interested in outdoor adventures and such, and are relatively independent and tough. The demographic breakdown is mostly 20-somethings, the majority of whom are from Europe (Germany, France, Britain, Italy). There are very few Americans, which is refreshing, as from my personal experience Americans seem to be the most obnoxious kind of tourists to the local mood, though Germans I have seen here are giving them some competition.

This city, while not always friendly or welcoming, is remarkably safe. Things I have done here without much concern for my safety, I would never have done even in a less poor country such as Brazil or even Mexico. People here just are not aggressive, hostile, or threatening in any way, even to a visitor from the country whose government they would happily never see in Bolivia again. For example, the other day I spent several hours threading my way up narrow streets, stairs and paths, through barrios of stacked houses that cling to the side of the canyon, on my way to climbing a huge ridge that looks over the city (see photo at top and bottom). The fringes of the capital city of the poorest country in South America might not sound like a place one would want to be hiking around with an expensive camera and my gringo appearance, but aside from some hostile stray dogs I never felt in any danger.

This feeling of relative security comes mostly from the good nature of the paceños, and in part from the omnipresent police forces here in La Paz. At times, it seems that every third pedestrian is Policia Nacional, and in every major intersection is an officer directing traffic. Also, at the door of every bank or nice store are private security guards, always armed with at least a pistol and usually a rifle or shotgun as well. The amount of firepower visible in public in this city is sobering. It seems to be the legacy of a country whose leaders, during parts of the 20th century, averaged less than a year in office, and whose citizens have seen politics often manifested in a violent cycle of protest and repression.

Coming up, I will update on some of the political developments since my arrival, including some conversations and interviews that have raised some interesting points in my thinking about Bolivian politics. I am not sure what is going to be happening in the next few days, but I should be working on having another entry up this weekend before I leave La Paz to move on through Sucre and Santa Cruz in the coming weeks.

Impressions of La Paz

La Paz has made impressions on me in waves since my arrival. The first, from the air, was the dramatic geography of the city. Bolivia’s capital is tucked into a canyon at about 15,000 feet of altitude. La Paz is the third largest city in the country, with just under a million people. Santa Cruz, in the eastern province (where I will visit later), is the largest with over a million. Second largest, surprisingly, is the sprawling metropolis of El Alto, located on the rim of La Paz´s canyon and stretching off across the altiplano plateau. El Alto is home to the single-strip airport I landed on, and is known as the Aymara (an indigenous Andean group, to which Evo Morales belongs) capital of the world. Its million or so residents have grown from the campesinos that flood from the countryside into the city, which used to be no more than a slummy suburb but is now South America’s (and probable the Western Hemisphere’s) fastest growing metropolitan area.

On the way from el Alto into the centro of La Paz, several first impressions stuck in my mind. One was the amount of political graffiti, most of it anti-racist or pro-Morales (such as walls throughout the city reading “Sucre: Capital del Racismo.” Remember the constitutional riots and violence against campesinos?). I am staying in a hotel near the city center, on a busy street in a neighborhood full of a bustling indigenous population. While some live in La Paz proper, many make the journey down from El Alto to sell produce or an assortment of items that could satisfy any shopping needs. All of this is done in the street, with blankets or baskets spread on the sidewalk or in the street to display the goods, forcing pedestrians and vehicles alike to find a way around. The market atmosphere, in particular, strikes me as similar to India´s streets, while the traffic and buildings remind me of a poorer and more chaotic (believe it or not) Mexico.

At this altitude, the air is thin and cool, and each night the temperature dips toward freezing. Monday was the winter equinox, and it is the height of the dry season. Paceños travel bundled in coats and jackets, or in blankets and cloaks in the style of traditional indigenous dress. Indigenous people who live in the city and wear traditional dress are known as cholos or cholas, and are omnipresent around the La Paz, either selling things along the sidewalks or climbing the streets with blankets slung on their backs. 7 of 10 Bolivians work in the informal economy, a statistic that is abundantly obvious just from looking around. For this reason, issues of taxes and minimum wage hikes are more symbolic than practical to most Bolivians. The average citizen is more interested in health services (the other day I saw a graffiti´d wall reading “Before, health was for few; now, health is for all), education, and money to keep them out of poverty as they grow old. Many, once they are too old or weak to carry their bundles, are reduced to begging to pay for food.

As is true in most poor and socially segregated countries, Bolivians have developed an talent for ignoring the unpleasant. The streets are full of so many people asking for attention that passersby see right through the hawkers, beggars, and shoeshine boys. When they decide they want what is being offered, it is as if a switch is thrown and the shoe shiner or hawker is recognized as a person. Widespread poverty as pervasive as Bolivia’s is almost impossible to effectively address through politics or social action, because people here have trained and conditioned themselves not to see its everyday examples. So, while most Bolivians would agree that reducing poverty should be a goal, they often don’t connect the general idea with the practical application of policies to benefit the poor they pass by on the street or in the market everyday. That is just the way it is, they think, and their thoughts go elsewhere.

For many of the poorest Bolivians, politics are a luxury. Television reaches relatively few, newspaper reading is limited by illiteracy and cost, and radio programs are the only news medium to reach rural Bolivia. Apathy, disinterest, and isolation from any real impact of the rhetoric on the newspaper covers: these attitudes characterize the political positions of many Bolivians. In fact, most of the campesinos I have spoken too have professed ignorance or disinterest in political issues, even as a cultural and political battle is being waged on their behalf. The well-known Bolivian tendency for protest marches, one affluent student informed me, was more the product of savvy organization and mobilization strategy by social leaders than of personal interest on the part of the campesinos. This characterization of political action by indigenous groups may be partially accurate, but for citizens to whom democracy is a fairly new concept, the most obvious route to political expression is public demonstration.

The dividing lines between Evo´s supporters and detractors are not crystal clear, either. The other day, I followed a march by the national Union of Municipal Workers, based here in La Paz, as they protested a labor law that Evo has promised but not instituted. These marchers had a very clear goal, and were marching for a specific purpose in opposition to Evo, although the banners depicting images of Ché Guevara and posters railing against neoliberalism would suggest that they supported the President’s socialist stance. When I spoke to the Union Secretary, he had a very straightforward answer for why they were marching: the wanted the ley general de trabajo instituted. Vaguely democratic politician rhetoric and ideology-driven protest marches might dominate Bolivian politics, but people are also interested in effective, tangible change.

In other news, US-Bolivian relations have further deteriorated. After the angry march against the US embassy following the announcement of political asylum for the leaders of the October 2003 massacre, a diplomatic tit-for-tat has taken place. As the U.S. ambassador praised the police for protecting the embassy, Evo removed the chief who had ordered tear gas used against the protestors. The US then recalled its ambassador to Washington for consultations, and the State Department has declared that he will not return unless a dialogue with Morales´ government is opened. Morales then criticized American development agency USAID, which has been forced out of some parts of the country. In the meantime, newspaper headlines declared that the embassy has announced safety precautions for its personnel and is concerned for the safety of American citizens in Bolivia. This is news to me, as I haven’t felt any hostility from locals and we are a long way from a government expulsion of Americans.

Today I am off to see the opening rally for Evo´s campaign to win the recall referendum in August and continue his reforms. I will be posting again shortly, but until then know that I am well and that La Paz continues to take my breath away, literally, as I climb its streets and sidewalks.