This piece was reprinted by OpEd News with permission or license. It may not be reproduced in any form without permission or license from the source.
People in colorful outfits are scattered all around the site: men, women and children. A group of elders is seated in a closed circle. They are chanting, and their appeal is broadcasted through the speaker. They are addressing what is sacred to them: Mother Earth. They need strength in order to go on, to struggle, to defend themselves.
I am first 'scanned' by the people, and only then allowed to approach the elders. I explain who I am, and soon, the formalities are over.
"Please record but do not film our faces, for security," I am told. "But later, you can film the gathering."
Soon after, I sit down, and they begin to talk:
"The situation which we are living in these days in our country, in the communities up here, in the Andean communities is very difficult. In reality we feel frustrated, often abandoned because during the previous government led by President Evo Morales, we as farmers and indigenous people, felt very good. Even if, sometimes, we did not receive too much help, still, the government, the very President Evo Morales, is of our own blood, our own class. For that reason, we were supporting him. And we keep supporting him."
"And this, what we have, now is a government dictatorship. They say the contrary, but it is a fascist government. It is a government which is burning Wiphala, our symbol. It dishonors us. We feel humiliated, we feel discriminated against. For that reason, we realize that we cannot fail; we cannot stay here like this, we will continue fighting. There will be elections in our country, and we will continue supporting that one person who has elevated our name; the name of the native people, of workers, of working people, and of the poor."
"First, we will go to the elections, if of course there are elections. We will go and support our people; our leaders. In case that they will produce electoral fraud, then yes, we will rise!"
I told them that I have known their country, and Altiplano, for more than 25 years. Everything has changed. The villages consisting of mud huts came to life. They woke up, began to bloom. Water for all began to run through the pipes provided by the government. Modern ambulances have been deployed, serving all corners of the nation. Health centers opened their doors to millions of students, and so did schools, and vocation centers. New roads have been built. The government encouraged ecological farming.
Bolivia, for decades and centuries living under monstrous apartheid has been exploited, humiliated and robbed of everything, but lately has begun rising to its feet.
I told them this. I told them how I used to come here, again and again, in the 1990's, from Peru; a country devastated by the so-called "Dirty War" which I have described in my novel "Point of No Return". Peru was terribly broken, but here, in Bolivia, people were half-alive. There was no hope, only silent, frightening misery.
Now Bolivia, once the poorest country in South America, has been way ahead of Peru, a state which has been relentlessly cannibalized by the neo-liberal economic model, while still racially and socially divided to the extreme.
I asked the elders, whether they agreed. They did.
"Certainly. Because with our own eyes we have seen enormous economic changes and we have witnessed how Bolivia rose and after those 14 years, got ahead of this entire Latin American region."
Next Page 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
5
5
3
