Yes, so, here are some photos from Luke's camera. I downloaded them before he left, in case he never came back, having VB to drink and meat pies to hoe down...

First one is of something you've seen before. The Halloween night, but at the venue itself, and me about to slash my IMF aniquilador all over the shop! I finally won a prize for that on a following night - given that I went home before the prizes were called - a free beer.

Second is the incredible sight of the Virgen de Urkupiña Festival back in mid-August (and me after walk 20km long with a 3am start), from the top of the hill near the temple and site of the "vision" the little girl had all those years ago (and consequently the whole town as it happens...) of the Virgin Mary herself no less. Strangely they didn't have any visions before the Spaniards turned up...

It's true!!!

The day they brought old Adam down


November 21, 2006


Workers and the oppressed were on the streets across the world yesterday in celebration as capitalism was brought to its knees by the heroic actions of protesters in Melbourne over the weekend. In two short days, poor old Adam Smith's entire capitalist system was consigned to the wheelie bin of history as the Melbourne activist movement put forth a mighty effort against the hated ruling class.


"I really think this vindicates the protest movement here" said Carnival Against Capitalism organiser Jacinta Tarquin. "We cop a lot of flak from the media, of course - but also a lot of internal criticism, asking how effective are rallies like these. Well, here's your answer."


The delegates to the G20 conference hosted in Melbourne last weekend called a hasty media conference to explain to Rupert Murdoch and James Packer why they were out of a job. "Clearly the message from the anti-capitalists was too loud and strong to ignore," explained Peter Costello, ex-treasurer. "The chants, the speeches, the placards, the leaflets, all combined into a force that was just too strong for market forces to resist. We must shamefully but honestly concede defeat." Mr Costello has accepted a post of economic adviser to the Spartacist League.


The ex-governor of the Reserve Bank of Australia, Glenn Stevens, commented further: "I had no idea that we capitalists were doing such nasty things to people until I read one of these leaflets. I mean, I almost burst into tears and I've had a hard time reassuring my children and pets. All I can say is thank God for free speech."


Ex-prime minister John Howard hurried home from his junket in Vietnam to reassure Liberal voters that their standard of living will not change. "I don't think there will be major repercussions against the rich and powerful," he told media. "I have been given assurances by the leading left-wing parties such as the DSP and Socialist Alternative that the redistribution of wealth will be relatively painless."


Despite being on the losing side, former police chief commissioner Christine Nixon praised the bravery, strength and tactics of the protest shock troops the Anarcho Bloody Barmy Army (ABBA). "I have to admit the enemy had the tactics, the skills, and definitely the support of the majority to defeat the police," she told Indymedia. "I am greatly impressed with ABBA and am confident they will be able to take on any major challenges in the future, as the glorious workers/poor/queer/women's/indigenous/significant-others republic grows."


Praise for the decisive battle that changed history came also from the ordinary masses, now committed to environmentalism and gender equality thanks to ABBA's altercation with the police. "God, I wished I was out there with them," sighed Mavis Horne, 78, of Gentle Meadows Hostel, Glenroy. Her daughter Angela, 54, visiting Mavis with her own granddaughter Celeste, 4, nodded in agreement. "I would have loved to have taken little Celeste to the front of that protest," she said. "I think the bravery and clear-sightedness of those class warriors set a wonderful example for children." When asked for comment, little Celeste giggled and buried her head in her grandmother's arms, clearly just as happy as the oldies about the victory for the working class.


As a new dawn of hope and peace sends its first rays across a world free from the scourge of misery, slavery and reality TV, we can only pause to thank the Melbourne activist and protest communities for their incredible efforts. They said they couldn't make it, but they finally came through - and this one's for you.


Andrew McIntosh, Glenroy

There's no Critical Mass in Cochabamba...

Critical Mass is one of my passions, all too irregularly attended when I was still in Melbourne and now regretting it in a Critical Mass-free zone.

Unfortunatley Critical Mass's annoyingly "dis-organised" site doesn't give much news about Melbourne's 11th birthday this coming Friday but don't let the site give you the impression that the ride is anything but a fun, communal gathering. Everyone on the ride is helpful, there's usually tight organisation of the route, the bicycle cops are in attendance as escorts, and many of the drivers are very very supportive.

http://www.criticalmass.org.au/ is the site, but otherwise:

Join the birthday ride this Friday the 24th
5.30pm outside the State Library in Swanston Street, Melbourne CBD.

Go ahead, bring a friend. It's a cack!

Sick to the stomach... and it's not the lettuce.

My disgust for the U.S. government and those who support them grows by the day. Not just because of how it treats the very poor countries of Latin America and the world, but also those in their own country. The Patriot Act... read up on it. See how civil and sound it all appears, then see how it's being implemented in actual fact. Goon squads?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyvrqcxNIFs

This video's police repeat an order to "stand up or we'll tase you again...". It reminds me of impatient parents who tell their "misbehaving" kids who are crying for a reason usually ignored "If you keep crying I'll give you something to cry about!" Anyone ever been tased? If you have please reply and tell me if you could stand up afterward. Or if you wouldn't stand up with the threat of being tased again.

Here's what can happen in other countries through direct support from the U.S. government:

"In 2001, the US approved three sales of electro-shock weapons to Turkey, despite continued widespread use of such technology to torture. In a 2002 case, a 17-year-old schoolgirl who had been detained for distributing leaflets calling for Kurdish education was stripped, threatened with rape and tortured with electric shocks to her feet, legs and stomach."

- Amnesty International http://www.amnestyusa.org/countries/usa/document.do?id=F7CE0B13E65E100085256DF00050B882

Lovely. Just bloody great.

Here's an article in the Fort Worth Weekly Newspaper about a Fort Worth fellow killed by a taser gun for not coming out of a closet. Hmmm... http://www.fwweekly.com/content.asp?article=770

Bother.

It's Saturday and I have a Spanish language video night to attend. Wonder if they have subtitles...

Michael.

I can't get no...!

Hmm... I'm very tired today. I got woken by Fiona (on the phone), which is ALways the best way to wake up, after having a fairly early night at Karaoke - evidenced by the featured photo (can you tell what I'm singing??)

Fiona told me lots about my nephew's 21st birthday party, about how everyone was good to her, how much fun she had. I think I'm glad the party is all over. I don't have a itching to be there now. It's passed. My spirits are lifting.

Picture #2: Ahh, there's nothing like a light beer. And this is nothing like a light beer! (thanks Mary Poppins! I've been quoting from her quite alot lately for some reason!) These are three of my ex-students, out on another field trip with their latest teacher (they could never convince me to take them out!) What are they doing with all the teachers? Eating them?

This place is called Dali, my new favourite bar (ECLA is a restaurant by definition!). Depressingly it is full of gringos, but with a healthy spattering of locals too. Hmm... not much real Bolivian news from me. What does that all mean? Probably means that I'd better get to work.

Michael.

A noice little piece.

Hi all. I just wanted to show my family and friends (and anyone else looking for a positive lift) a message from a fellow on the Marfan Community email list. I often only let people know of the bad news in the Marfan Community and this is anything but that. Thanks fellow whose name I won't use!!



Good Morning Everyone,

Today is my 50th birthday; a milestone I scarcely ever expected to see.

I celebrated this weekend with 50 of my friends, birth family and chosen family members on a boat cruising on Lake Austin. My best friend from junior high school, one of my close friends from high school, my Mom, my sister and one of my dearest friends and teachers in Austin all spoke about my life and my part in their life. I was deeply moved and the whole group was very joyous.

I'd like to say how much I've appreciated everyone on this list. I'm grateful for the help I've received from all of you, for the help I've seen given to so many others and for the opportunity for me to help others.

I consider myself to be fortunate on so many levels. The whole Marfan gig gave me clarity early in life about the importance of getting on with life and about how precious all our moments are. I figured out early on that I am best served by doing things I desire to do right now rather than hold off. I had the right kind of intellect, heart and drive to be able to do work I love, travel the world, make enough money to live in style, aid others in their lives, learn lots of amazing things, have a life-long partner who continues to teach me about love, have Beloveds who share their lives with me and in the end do what I've always wanted to do in life; see the world be a bit better for my having been here.

So take a moment today to say a gentle Happy Birthday in your Heart for me - I'll be listening.

Abundant Love, (the fine fellow whose name I said I wouldn't use)
Chris.
(and then he told me not to be so silly and use it anyway,).

Parade strips, Field trips, orange drips and curiosity #17 and almost #18...

Now this is curious. It seems the only Beta Blocker not available on the market in Bolivia is Sotalol. Of course this is the one I need to keep the Atrial Fibrillation and his nasty cousin Ventricular Tachycardia at bay. Other beta blockers just don't have what it takes (the "have what it takes" phrase is directly from last night's long explanation of it to my students *always writes studnets by accident, which is certainly not the case since he changed classes...*).

So, does Peru have the medication? And if so, will the Marfan Syndrome Support Group in Peru a) understand my typed Spanish request? b) willingly fulfull that request? and c) be able to fulfull the request even if willing?

Of course I can ask Fiona to travel the entire planet with some tucked away in her bag. So, options abound.

Well, another curiosity struck me on the way here, and it has something to do with the poverty of the country, but now can't for the life of me...

Photos!

a) I've never been on a fieldtrip with my students before. This is primarily because there's too much to do in class, what with the word power and the listening and the grammar focus, and stuff. But this is one field trip I was able to be present for, even if it wasn't my class. It was "let's have a festival outside the CineCenter because it's there" day. Just down the road at my work, I had three students (normal for a Friday night) all of whom didn't want to be there because of a migraine, mother's birthday party, and just plain knackered. So they went home and I joined Emily's class at the CineCenter. Well, there we all are in a classic abomination of Western cultural colonisation, two teachers and one student in the food court of the CineCenter (let me again take this opportunity to point out that this was my old class where people used to attend all the time...). Emily is also my housemate from Wyoming, U.S.A. The latter fact is unfortunate, but she's a great housemate nonetheless, although I now say "sure" in a very distasteful accent...

b) There you go. The first picture of me completely unaware of the camera. And how naturally I seem to be haggling with the fine fruitjuice fancier! I think I was saying something like "It better be bloody good for $5B!" 'cos I know how to say that in Spanish... It's my new local Saturday market, where a few vendors are getting used to my height and presence, enough for a familiar hello.

c) This festival on Saturday was unusual, not in the way it was presented - a parade of thousands of bears, cueca dancers, devils, caperales dancers, junglefever women, drums, Tinku dancers (one of my favourites) and lots and lots of very long legs, various tapas stalls, lots of alcohol, and these spectator stands that eventually turn into miniature Great Southern Stands with hundreds of drunken young people yelling at you as you walk along, mostly imploring you to come and talk, and stuff, so very much the norm. It was unusual in that this time nobody really knew what the festival was for. There were no saints, or virgins or ... well, it's really usually about a saint or a virgin. It had something to do with the San Simón University. We think...

Well, off to teach English in the sweltering heat of Cochabamba's November afternoon sun. I hate afternoon lessons... I been saying "I hate..." alot lately... hm... best stop that.

Love to you all, and missing you more by the day (when's Fiona getting here??!),

Michael.

p.s. oh, it's 35 days.

Curiosity #14

I was told last night by a sagacious Bolivian matriarch of a plan hatched by some US Navy general years ago when Bolivia was under Communist rule. With the fear that Bolivia was a threat he very cleverly suggested invading Bolivia by sea... of course, this was all after Bolivia's war with Chile where they lost their coastline.

Just thought that for my readers I should bring to light some more of the logic behind the US war machine...

I laughed and pulled my ever lengthening hair at the same time (it's a liberating experience I can tell you! Try it.)

p.s. she (the matriarch) could be wrong... any takers?

Oh yeah! I forgot! The Melbourne Cup!

It passed by for me like the perfect antithesis to the U.S. elections.

It was only through an email from the recently departed Marty, back in Melbourne to turn the city into a yearlong Johntson Street fiesta, who informed me that he was being as unpatriotic as I was, and missed the circus* completely. Well, Philip Adams covered the Melbourne Cup quite well, as far as I can tell (or am concerned) but it does have a hint of the U.S. election to it. The comparison could be just that I've been following the election more closely this time round given a) most of what Dubya even sneezes out is even worse for this here landmass than it is for Australia and b) we have an American in the house. A USian that is (I've been chided harshly by Latin Americans on more than one occasion for calling people from the US "Americans"and dismissing the rest of those in The Americas claim to their own land... typical.)

Yes,... well, here's Philip Adams view on the race that stops a nation, or two.

* (circus - see Macchiavelli, whom I despise, and bread, which I had with vegemite this morning for the first time since I left Australia, to further fever my desires for home... but it left me truly, ecstatically satisfied...)

November 07, 2006
AND as they head into the straight, Democrat is one, two, three lengths ahead! Legendary jockey Karl Rove is flailing his whip at Republican's flanks, but the grand old nag is knackered! In the members, John Howard is yelling his head off. This is the one race Australia's biggest punter on the American horse can't afford to lose, but the odds are against him. Having bet the farm on Republican (out of Dubya, from Texas), Howard will be going home flat broke!
Looking increasingly desperate, the punters who went along with Howard, Peter Costello, Alexander Downer and the rest of them are turning on the PM and hitting him with their binoculars. And even before Democrat passes the post they're tearing up their tickets and heading for the exit. The poor buggers have not only done their money, they've blown their reputations for picking winners. Now Republican stumbles, tosses Rove from the saddle and comes crashing down in a heap. The stewards will have to erect the screens and put the poor brute out its misery. And judging by the expression on Howard's face, they'll need to put him out of his.
Yes, folks, though worth trillions just a few months back, Republican is dog meat and our PM is Pal! To the deafening cheers of the crowd, Democrat cruises home in a canter in what's finished up as a one-horse race. Liberal backers are talking of a new thoroughbred to replace Howard and Costello: Malcolm Turnbull, from Big Money, out of Wentworth. Mind you, Howard did well in the past by backing mounts from the White House (not to be confused with the Waterhouse) stables. By going for Dubya, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld in the trifecta, he won a political fortune and some very big races here in Australia, including two Federal Cups on the trot.
Mind you, with overweight jockeys Kim Beazley and Mark Latham riding Labor into the ground, he didn't have much to beat. Labor performed so badly in their outings on both city and country tracks that the stewards suspected the races had been fixed. But with Bob Hawke and Paul Keating out of the saddle, the old grey mare just ain't what she used to be.
Howard joined his American friends racing into Iraq only to meet stiff Arabian opposition. Though victory seemed certain - Bush claimed it long before the race was over - they've been pipped at every post. Hence present attempts to scratch Cheney and Rumsfeld. Though costing a fortune at the political yearling sales, Neo-con (sired by Paul Wolfowitz) turned out to be such a big dud that he was retired early and sent to stud. But nobody's buying.
Now Howard will have to face a race increasingly dominated by Democrat: the big one, the Melbourne Cup of US and world politics. The only question: who'll be Democrat's jockey? John Kerry fell off a few days back and, despite some support from Rupert Murdoch, a legend at picking winners, few believe Hillary Clinton can last the distance. Scholars of the form guide reckon she's carrying too much weight in her saddlebags and will run out of puff in the last furlongs in Pennsylvania Avenue. Some are barracking for Barack Obama, the dark horse from Illinois, but he's a bit young and needs more track work.
So the smart money's on a jockey many believed was past it. Al Gore. Were he a horse (sired by Bill Clinton, out of Puff) he'd have been regarded as more gelding than stallion. But as a jockey he has done pretty well, beaten only in the most famous photo finish in the history of the Presidential Stakes. Six years ago millions of punters backed Democrat as favourite and felt robbed by the judges when they gave it to Republican. (Certainly Gore's mount seemed a nose ahead in that crucial Florida meeting where the stewards were provided by George Bush's brother.) But now Al has won a key victory in the Climate Change Cup, a race in which Howard and Bush were early scratchings.
The connections of Democrat say Gore has lost weight but gained gravitas, that the punters would cheer his return to the track, remembering how he was dudded in the Presidential Stakes. Even some of Republican's backers must be be feeling guilty.
Most important, the Climate Change Cup is regarded as a desirable trophy. So the odds narrow, with yesterday's long shot looking like tomorrow's dead cert.
A Gore win on Democrat would be even worse for Howard than Republican's failure today. Howard was rude to Gore on his recent visit and dismissive of his horse of the apocalypse, An Inconvenient Truth (out of Time, from CO2). The PM's support for the Bush stable ceases to be a winner, here or in Washington.

Banality #16 amidst Todd's birthday and a rant on Rio.

It's my nephew's birthday. He is also my godson. He is very very special to me. It's a particularly special birthday for him because he is now 21 and for those out of the cultural loop, it's the traditionally significant day that one is a complete adult and is set loose in (or on) the world. Todd has been on the loose for some time now, but it's still a special occasion and all my family will be coming together to celebrate with him and his friends.

So, crap. I feel very much like I should be there. I've written a speech, a poem that gives him curry, and tells him how much he's like his brilliant uncle. I hope to deliver it over the phone, or via an MP3 or something...

And so a spate of homesickness sets in (is this another spate, or the same one?!). NOT at all assisted (that is, very much assisted) by my overindulgence of downloading not just one, but two versions of "I still call Australia home"... Quick! A toucan! A Boa! A Jaguar! SOMEthing to slam me with how lucky I am to be here!

But I just want to point out, as perhaps a banality (or IS it?) that the original version of said song, by Peter Allen, states, as we all know "I've been to cities that never close down, from New York to Rio and old London town..."

The other version, as beautifully and angelically sung as it is by The Australian Children's Choir, states this: "I've been to cities that never close down, from New York to Rome and old London town..."

Now I'm pretty upset about having my host continent left out of the whole feeling of longing that that song is meant to invoke in Australians abroad, but I reckon the change is due to the decision by some poncy suit that Rio is not a child's city. Well, on the contrary the city is bloody full of them, easily seen, if not heard, because so many of them are living on the street.

Who wants to go to Rome anyway?

Here's a link from the BBC on a photo exhibition project by Rio's street kids (similar to the one created by participants at the North Carlton Railway Station Neighbourhood House not long ago) that proves that Rio is indeed a child's city.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/06/in_pictures_shooting_rio/html/1.stm

Happy 21st Todd. I miss you, particularly today. Have a very special night. I love you.

¿Quéué?

Capricorn
Be very careful with your spelling and punctuation today. Often, the style of your written communication speaks before you can speak, and you run a small risk of making a bad first impression unless you double- and triple-check your work. Go over your resume one more time, reread that email to a friend, and make spell-check your best friend today! Making mistakes is natural, but making an extra effort to keep them to a minimum will be worthwhile.

Stoopid stersighns,! What are troyin' ta toll me?

Now I'm in for it...

Now, for all those readers of my blog out there who are believers, you'll just have to bear with me... because as you may already know I have a healthy disbelief in the Catholic and related religions (which include all monotheistic ones for a start). Or I should say I USED to have. I have found a wonderful new religion called Pastafarianism - the belief in the Flying Spaghetti Monster deity.

http://www.venganza.org/

In reality, this god was created (or WAS it?) to oppose the Kansas State Board of Education's decision to teach Intelligent Design (the new, very attractive term for the existence of god) in schools as an alternative to biological evolution... Whew! As others have commented I also LOVE the depiction of His creation of the mountains, and midgets... teehee... very good.

What is the point of the blog entry and the cause of it's content (being so banal (or IS it???!))? A healthy state of panic, that has resulted in a terrible knot in my stomach. I have to make a number of important phone calls - to immigration, those that can help me at immigration, students, others... but I can't bring myself to do it, as self destructive as it bloody is... In fact, yes, I believe I'm being self destructive... what other reason could I have to put off the absolute necessary? I dreamed I went home last night. I arrived, with a terrible panic about not having a complete Halloween IMF costume (getting the eyeshadow was a hell of a chore!!) (see previous blog entry) and I tapped Fiona on the shoulder and when she turned around the blank dismissive look on her face (which was a neutrality caused by interminable glee and a high degree of anger) classified the dream as a nightmare. Is this a prophetic part of my current feelings? Am I about to book a ticket home? Am I about to be thrown out of the country, without my IMF costume (heaven forbid!)?

Oohhhh! *tries to stifle groan in the public internet cafe*

Oh! Now I SEE what comes of those who follow false deities... a knotty stomach that could restrain The Hulk.

Bother...

Drowning in Saints, but no water...

CapricornYou don't have to be a poet, songwriter or novelist to know how to be creative with your words. Creative writing is a gift everyone has -- and everyone should develop. So today, try to do the unexpected in your written words. Throw a rhyming scheme into your emails, achieve a lot of alliteration in an agenda, and see what happens if you begin a memo with 'Once upon a time.' It might seem silly, but creativity is supposed to be fun!


For god's sake. To whom do they think they propose this advice? ... alright, alright...

Once apon a time there was a fellow in a strange land. He liked it there, he liked it there a lot. There were incredible, funny, insightful people, there were colourful psychadelic buses, there were public holidays every week, but a lot of various (albeit connected) phenomena that began to really give him the shits...

Hmm... nevermind.

I must say, my tolerance for absent things I have come to expect to be there has waaaay shortened. Water for example... now I also know that heaps of people on the south side of town don't get ANY running water. And when I say I didn't have water (this morning when I wanted to have a shower, brush my teeth, and have a cup of tea (poor baby!)) I don't mean that there wasn't water in the underground tank. It just wasn't coming up to the tap and I couldn't bare to reach in there past las cucarachas and webbing (even though I am Spiderman) and get myself a teapot full of interestingly coloured water. Certainly made me wonder what sort of filtering system the house has between the tank and my teapot...

I survived of course, and have had a shower now.

It's a holiday tomorrow. No work, meaning, primarily, no money. Most of you know what I think of public holidays...

The holiday is All Saints Day - an important one for the Bolivians, at least. Today, at 12 noon preferably, they choose a black tablecloth for the table and place on this various types of breads, in various shapes, along with symbols and memories of their dead. More importance of course is place on those recently deceased.

The next day all the bread is taken to the cemetary. The procession, or the "show" as such isn't to be missed, as I'm told by the Bolivians themselves. The bread is given to the boys (and girls? not sure) who will be tending the flowers and cleaning the tombstones for the occasion.

I'm curious about the coincidence of All Saints falling so close to All Hallows (Halloween).

English class. Chau todos.

Love, Your friendly Neighbourhood Bolivian Correspondant.

Oh and check this out - brought to my attention by a wondrous soul indeed:

http://www.globalcommunity.org/flash/wombat.shtml