Monday, February 19, 2007

Some parade action.

Yep. Ariane. don't look at the last picture... those women freaked me out totally and there were LOTS of them! Reminded me of those creeps with the mask who taunt the Chinese Dragon in those other parades. They made me poo my pants. The dragons were o.k.

Anyway, some of the colourful crew that made up the 30-odd thousand.

There was SOME decorum on the day, regards foam and water balloons. When the dancers and so forth came past, people actually stopped throwing things about. Even the drunk ones. I, for one was surprised. The costumes can cost 100s of dollars to make so there was some respect there. Unusual for a Bolivian party atmosphere.





Water breaking everywhere and not a pregnant woman in sight.

Bloody hell! Carnival continues here in Bolivia, the long weekend after the celebrations in Oruro, the sleepiest (read for most people: boringest) little city in the country. Oruro is famous for its few days of mayhem at the request of the diablo (of whom the participants and observers idolise to no end!). Of course the Virgin Mary, in all her incarnations is heavily present but never without the love, adoration and terror toward the little devils who inhabit the filthy, deadly mines closeby.

(foderation! My ears ring and my heart pounds just now as more of the foolishly available fire crackers explode just outside this door. Man, they give me the shits!)

Anyway, the initial "bloody hell" was to represent that madness that ensued for Fiona and I when we saw it all in broad daylight in Oruro last Saturday. 30,000 parade performers, 10,000 musicians, 100s of thousands of partygoers, and at at guess 3 or 4 billion water balloons. As you can see by the ponchoed photos it was terribly bad weather... (pause) not! Photo opportunities were at minimum as the chance of balloons crossing our paths and drenching our arses were at maximum. Our expensive seats in a fairly prime position for viewing most of the parade, was also fairly safe from watery projectiles but Fiona and I tried to emulate a wonderous experience Marty and I had last year in Urkupiña by walking against the parade between them and the crowd. I thought it wouldn't be possible due to the more highly organised ... organisers, but the idea was rendered impossible by the hopelessness that was water-balloon-and-foam-spraycan-sitting-duck-"Look!-Gringos!!"-prime-positionness. We couldn't walk even two minutes before the visionless dodging and at times painfully large bustery balloons and in-yer-face foam (often used as a distraction from your pockets...) forced us to turn and retreat to our seats. We knew that the walking wouldn't get any easier ahead and yet sadly had to admit the certaintly of reexperiencing the previous two minutes crowd... When we got back to our seats people wanted photographs of US, the dripping christmas tree duo...

It was at a moment between the pain and the embarrassment that I turned... My stance on water balloons went from "If you live by the balloon, you die by the balloon" to "The balloon is mightier than than the boring killjoy" and bags of ready-made water bombs were aquired solely for revenge, which was got.

A pleasant time was had, yet we were only there for the day. Overnight accommodation was practically non-existant and if it did exist hotel prices for Carnival can rise 5-fold, especially for us yankee lookin' types.

Never mind. On the Monday (yesterday) Fiona and I wandered down The Prado to have a quiet coffee (pause) NOT! My new stance decried the old "give 'em a filthy look, get them upset with you, get you in a bad mood with everyone" belief system and heralded in the new "right! That's it! Where's them balloons?!" kind of ... what's that word again... oh yes, FUN!

Janice would be proud of me - my projectiles were often nicely executed. I'm sure if Carnival was all about spitting contests I'd be still sitting at home watching it on telly.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

He's o.k. You're o.k.

Today is another day in Cochabamba. And probably another day in most other spots on this green and blue particle of some intergalactic nasal explosion.

Spending his days here, especially with Fiona regularly at his side, or not far from it, he gets the impression that his life is normal and that he may as well be in Melbourne. His meets with his friends regularly, he gets shat off at his... well, hardly his enemies, just people he gets shat off with. He makes lunch, or has it delivered to his table with the common global servility of restaurants after his money. He chats with the nurse he sees every month, now fairly fluently, about what he's reading. She's great. She called out to him by name this morning when he picked up his INR results. He feels welcomed at the hospital, at the places he frequents.

But some things get you. Some things get him.

Every now and then that little hollow-eternity visa chestnut of his grabs at the edges of his passportless stressy (it's a noun) and heads shake, usually his at the fact that he's now been without a visa and his passport for over 8 months. But he walks into the Immigration Centre ahead of those who've been waiting for hours for a chance at their passport this time round. And he's greeted cordially by name again - the whole extrañero office knows him now. They show pity for his plight, blaming the La Paz office for his visa woes, while La Paz blames Cochabamba. But they know I can just go home if worst comes to worst. And honestly, how could I regret being forced to see my family and friends sooner? These visa woes only grab him every now and then because of his everyday comfort. He works. He shouldn't. But he does. He doesn't have to show his passport or fear a 15 minute-rule firing squad because he's illegal. He laughs with his students. Things are normal. Yet, how in god's name, he incredulously muses, can the entire country be free of 2mg Warfarin tablets?! Cochabamba doesn't have them, La Paz doesn't have them, Santa Cruz and Sucre don't have them. Bolivia only has 5mg tablets. Well, he needs to take 7mg daily. He could... well, try to divvy up a 5mg Warfarin Tablet into... what... two portions of 2 and a 1? He's buggered if he knows. He reflects standing at the pharmacy counter that it's not her fault. He's pleasant, she's sorry. But as he turns away he can't help himself. He huffs in view of the pharmacist throwing up his hands and grumbling "Loco... LOCOness!!" and settles quickly in the comfort of her sympathy, and the humourous knowledge that his Spanglish still rules his inner dialogue.

Walking across the lawless hospital intersection (a fair place to have a dangerous crossroads) he is given a sincere apology from the 4WDriver coming the wrong way down a one way street who swerves to miss him, and he wonders what Peru's traffic is like. There's a Marfan Syndrome support group there and they may have 2mg Warfarin tablets. He could go get them from Peru if they have them, but he doesn't have a passport, or a visa...

Somebody should suggest to him that he might just need to take 5mgs daily with a jugful of spinach. He doesn't like spinach.

And it gets him every time the tattered woman in the street sends her grubby kids to him with their little hands outstretched and the heads tilted in desperate pleas. He doesn't know where they spent the previous rainy night. They look soggy, the familiar dust on their hats, their faces is muddy.

So, it's another day in Cochabamba. Fiona just called. Buy some rolls and cheese on the way home. Time for lunch.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Marfan Syndrome Awareness Month or The fish done it! (and me, an English teacher...)

I'm sure that many other people with many other causes and connections, relate February to many other "Awareness Month" issues.

But this month is also the Marfan Syndrome Awareness Month. I have the Syndrome (if regular readers haven't picked up on that yet) and everyone should check out the following website because I said so:

http://www.marfan.org/nmf/index.jsp

All quiet on the occidental front, except for the spew calls from Fiona's bedroom all yesterday after a delightfully romantic evening at Puerto Madero, a buffet all-you-can-eat joint with lots of seafood, Chinese, Bolivian, and crepe desserts. I think it was the fish...

Bongos!

Michael.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Another photo opportunity? Yep.

Fiona and I love this little town, Torata, which I mentioned in an earlier blog when we visited there a couple weeks back. Its traditional back streets;its decidedly rustic and inviting entrances;its strong friendly women and men - here Filamena does what she's um... doing with that bright cotton (and with great charm and skill!) , while tending her quiet stall of flowers;the tranquilo community;and the typical plaza of central activity, brilliantly lit up at night;


Revolt among my birthday celebrations... or is that a birthday among the revolt...

Well, it's high time to get that comment of mine about the deaths in Cochabamba out of the way, should you not have heard the general truth about the whole situation. My Blog entry titled "Death Road, Death of the Incas and Death in Cochabamba" didn't really mention any of them. I followed with photos and detail about Death Road (or "Formally known as Death Road") but Death in Cochabamba came even more recently, in fact around January 10 as we tried to get our butts back to Cbba from La Paz. We couldn't get a bus as there were road blocks into Cbba at every point. If we'd taken a bus, been stopped and hauled out, Fiona and my American, pro-whitey appearance (being tall and white) could have landed us in trouble of the getting-beaten-up-or-killed kind.

So we flew... eventually. We waited over 16 hours at the TAM military airport after a harrowingly scary taxi ride into the depths of the altiplano (yep, that's a contradiction folks!) where the driver took an unexpected turn off the road in the midnight nothingness (after us reading in the hostel about La Pazzian nighttime airport taxis and all sorts of murderous robberies!!) to an unused railyard, drove along the railway line, and then, after Fiona and I resuscitated each other, he revealed the shortcut we were taking kept him from paying a multa toll on the road.

We waited at the military airport (TAM runs civilian flights around the country to bump up its military budget no doubt - glad to be of service!) which has the worst crash record (or is that the best) in the country, and watched the news live from Cochabamba on the airport "lounge" tv, the riotous thousands, the blockades EVERYwhere, and were told that the flight delays were due to Cochabamba's bad weather... Cochabamba NEVER has bad weather (except of course the terrifying thunderstorm we had last night... ahem, yep) so I was convinced they were talking about the political climate and was decidedly worried about our flight when it did happen...

It did happen, with delays aplenty, and Fiona commenting that TAM couldn't organise a proverbial in a brothel...

The protests in Cochabamba resulted in a Thursday of blood, injuries and death on both sides. The side that wants Morales out, and the side that wants Manfred, the Cochabamba District Prefectura (the State Premier) out. By the way, the "Premier" was instrumental in making the Water contracts a walk in on the golf course for the US Betchel corporation (look it up).

One young man from the "rich" side was slashed with a machete and hanged. One father from the poor side was shot and killed by an "unknown" assailant. I doubt whether, as usual, there'll be any justice for either family...

It all settled down for now and what does that mean? Morales is adamant that it's Manfred's fault and he should deal with it while Manfred, of course, is saying it's a matter of State and Evo should take responsibility. Looks like another palm off, until the inevitable worst comes to worst (and my in depth analysis dies in the bum - I gotta go to work) and I had my birthday party (two weekends later) and all. Spiderman Lemon Cake bought by Fiona who had the words "Felicidades Maicl" written on the top ("Congratulations Michael" that is), and she made the Australian rumball pile to the right. What a gal! My head was shoved into said cake in what I was told was a Bolivian tradition (perhaps for gullible Melbourne folk only...) and a pleasant evening regardless of the settling brew in the city square...

Yet the Prefectura offices are still a burned and broken mess by the looks of it (pictured). I suppose Manfred is trying to gain as much political leverage as possible from the attacks on his offices - "ooh! Look at me! Look at what they did to my place! See how barbarous they are! This is what I have to deal with!!" Course, he could just resign or at least give the people what they want which is a completely transparent government, given the evidence against his corruption and back-door deals is mounting ever so creepily.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Hmm... sure. That's all well and good to say...

Brahmanism: This is the sum of duty: Do naught unto others which would cause you pain if done to you.: Mahabharata 5:1517

Christianity: All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.: Matthew 7:12

Islam: No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother what which he desires for himself. Sunnah

Buddhism: Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful.: Udana Varga 5:18

Judaism: What is hateful to you, do not to your fellowmen. That is the entire Law; all the rest is commentary.: Talmud, Shabbat 31:a

Confucianism: Surely it is the maxim of loving-kindness: Do not unto others that you would not have them do unto you.: Analects 15:23

Taoism: Regard your neighbor's gain as your own gain, and your neighbor's loss as your own loss.: T'ai Shag Kan Ying P'ien

Zoroastrianism: That nature alone is good which refrains from doing unto another whatsoever is not good: for itself. : Dadistan-i-dinik 94:5

Thanks Paul.

Friday, February 02, 2007

Would You “Support the Troops” in Bolivia?

Would You “Support the Troops” in Bolivia?

By Jacob G. Hornberger

12/28/06

Soldiers who join the military voluntarily sign a very unusual contract with the federal government. It is a contract that effectively obligates the soldier to go anywhere in the world on orders of the president and kill people as part of an invasion force against other countries. It doesn’t matter whether the intended victims deserve to die or not. That issue is irrelevant as far as the soldier is concerned. His job is not to question why people he is ordered to kill should be killed; his job is simply to invade and carry out the killing, no questions asked.

For example, let’s say that President Bush orders U.S. troops to invade and occupy Bolivia. The order would reach the Pentagon, which then would pass the order downward to generals, colonels, majors, captains, sergeants, and privates in America’s standing army. With perhaps one or two exceptions, no soldier would challenge the president’s decision to invade Bolivia, because that’s not part of the employment contract he has signed with the military. The soldier’s duty would simply be to carry out the president’s order to invade Bolivia.

Suppose a soldier says, “Mr. President, I can’t carry out this order because it would involve killing innocent people wrongfully, including the people who are going to defend their nation from this attack. You have no moral right to order an invasion of Bolivia because neither the Bolivian people nor their government has attacked the United States. Moreover, the invasion would be illegal under our form of government because you haven’t secured the constitutionally required congressional declaration of war. My conscience will not permit me to kill any Bolivians as part of this operation, including Bolivian soldiers defending their nation from this attack. Therefore, I simply cannot participate in this invasion. ”

That soldier would be taken aside by a few superior officers for a very candid and direct conversation. His superiors would explain to him that it is not within his job description to second-guess the president’s decision to attack Bolivia. The soldier’s job, he would have carefully explained to him, is to trust that his commander in chief is making the right decision and to carry out his order. The soldier’s superiors would also explain to him that if he persists in his refusal to participate in the operation, he will be court-martialed and severely punished.
What about conscientious-objector status? Wouldn’t that relieve the soldier from participating in the attack on Bolivia?

No, because under military rules conscientious-objector status applies only if a soldier objects on moral or religious grounds to all war. A soldier is not permitted to gain conscientious-objector status if he happens to object to a particular war as being illegal, unjust, or immoral.

Back to our Bolivia example. To make it easy on U.S. soldiers who might feel a bit squeamish about killing Bolivians, the president could announce that they were invading Bolivia in order to oust the recently elected socialist president, a man who has close ties to Venezuela’s president, Hugo Chavez, who is another socialist and who has close ties to Fidel Castro, who is both a socialist and a communist and who had close ties to the communist Soviet Union, which had once promised to bury America.

Thus, by invading Bolivia, the president would argue, the troops would be helping bring freedom and stability to Latin America and also be protecting the United States from the threat of communism. Moreover, U.S. troops occupying Bolivia would be serving as a magnet for attracting Latin American communists and terrorists that U.S. troops could then exterminate. Finally, the president could provide another rationale for the invasion: that by invading Bolivia, U.S. troops would actually be defending the United States from an invasion by undocumented Bolivian immigrants.

It would be all the troops would need to go forward with a clear conscience. Undoubtedly, 99 percent of U.S. troops would obey the orders of the president to invade Bolivia, even if they felt a bit uneasy about killing people in the process. They would faithfully fulfill the terms of their employment contract.

How do we know that this is true — that U.S. troops would faithfully do their duty by carrying out the orders of their commander in chief to invade Bolivia? Easy — because we know that they followed the president’s order to invade Iraq, a country that never attacked the United States or even threatened to do so. And on invasion day, they would dutifully drop 500-pound bombs on Bolivia, fire missiles into cars and buildings, and shoot Bolivian soldiers who resisted the invasion. Women and children who would be killed as part of the operation would be considered the unfortunate collateral damage of war. And the more the Bolivian military resisted the invasion, the more it would be held morally responsible for Bolivian casualties.

Throughout the operation, the troops would be reporting back on how they’re killing the “bad guys.” American reporters, donning military helmets and embedding themselves with the troops, would dutifully attend Pentagon briefings, after which the U.S. press would breathlessly exalt the heroic exploits of the troops. Bronze and silver stars would be awarded soldiers who fought courageously against Bolivian soldiers and insurgents.

No one would keep count of how many Bolivians were killed in the operation because no one would want to know and no one would care. Only the deaths of American soldiers would count and be counted.

The American people would be infected with war fever. Dissidents would be challenged with “Now is not the time to debate whether we should have gone to war against Bolivia. The fact is that we are at war and so we’ve got to support the troops.” The FBI would monitor anti-war protests for threats to national security from socialists, communists, and terrorists. The country would be rife with anti-immigrant hysteria, and there would be raids, round-ups, and deportations of Hispanic immigrants.

Protestant ministers and Catholic priests would exhort their parishioners to support the troops in harm’s way. Those ministers and priests serving in military reserve units as chaplains would accompany the troops to Bolivia and explain to them that war is in the Old Testament, that as soldiers they could trust the judgment of the president, and that they could kill Bolivians with clear consciences. Church newspapers and bulletins would wax eloquent on how this was a “just” war, especially given that it would be protecting the national security of the United States from communism and also liberating the Bolivian people from the horrors of socialism and the threat of communism. The American flag would be displayed proudly in church altars, especially during Sunday service or mass (except, of course, in churches in Bolivia, where Protestant ministers and Catholic priests would be proudly displaying the Bolivian flag.)

People who came to the assistance of the Bolivians from Colombia, Ecuador, and other Latin American countries would be considered “terrorists” or “bad guys.” Those who came from Cuba would be called “communist terrorists.” And U.S. troops would kill them all, especially if they were trying to kill U.S. troops.

But what about the morality of the entire operation? Where is the morality of killing people who have never attacked the United States and who have done nothing worse than try to defend their country from a wrongful invader? Where is the morality in killing in “self-defense” when you don’t have a right to be there killing people in the first place? Does a burglar who has entered someone’s home in the middle of the night have the moral (or legal) right to claim self-defense if he kills the homeowner who shot at him while he was burglarizing the homeowner’s home in the middle of the night?

Indeed, where is the morality in signing a contract that obligates a person to go kill people who haven’t attacked his country?

“But we signed the employment contract thinking that we were defending America,” soldiers say. “We’re just trying to be patriots.”

But everyone knows that presidents don’t use their standing army to defend America. They use it to attack countries that haven’t attacked the United States. After all, how many times has America been invaded by a foreign army in the last 50 years? (Answer: None!) What country in the world today has the military capability of invading the United States? (Answer: None!)
By signing a contract that obligates the soldier to kill people in the process of obeying the president’s order to invade other nations, the soldier effectively agrees to surrender his conscience to the will of the president. After killing people pursuant to that contract, he effectively says to himself and to God, “I’m not responsible for killing that person I just shot or bombed because I signed a contract with my employer that obligates me to kill people on his command and that relieves me of having to decide whether my employer’s order was right or wrong.”

But the troops aren’t the only ones who surrender their consciences. As soon as the troops are committed to battle, many citizens also surrender their consciences, rallying to support the troops and cheering them to victory, praying that God bring an end to the violence and the “terrorism” in the country that the troops have invaded, without heed to whether the troops have the moral right to be in the invaded nation killing people.

How wise is the surrender of conscience, both among the troops and the citizenry, in both the short term and long term, especially in a country that prides itself on Judeo-Christian principles?

In my opinion, not wise at all.

Jacob Hornberger is founder and president of The Future of Freedom Foundation. He is one of 23 speakers at The Future of Freedom Foundation's upcoming June 1-4 conference “Restoring the Republic: Foreign Policy and Civil Liberties” in Reston, Virginia. Send him email.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink...

In response to a question from my sister regarding my comments on the Carnival lead up water balloon wars, yes, there IS a water shortage here, but SOME people (read: the overly affluent who couldn't give a shit about the poor, whom the water shortage really effects) not only continue to water their concrete, and the pristine lawns but they choose to do it by and large, in the middle of the afternoon, at the hottest time when water has least chance to absorb into the ground, so is wasted. STUPID people everywhere (well, the "some people" force their Cholitas to do the watering). Oh, and the Carnival "spirit" of water balloons (or globos de agua) is fostered (by and large) by the wealthy also, wouldn't you guess. I walked down Calle de Pando (Pando St., which houses a number of "look at me prancing and preening - I'm so beautiful" nightclubs, and the only 5star hotel in the city) only to have to dodge the most congested number of water ballooners in town, all well to do young teenagers who, again, couldn't give a shit about the water shortage. After all, it's only the Cholitas and their families whose wells will run dry before Summer's out.

Anyone care for a literary enlightenment quiz? Where is this subject line's quote from? (can you really do it without googling?)

I'll give you a hint - it belongs in a "rime".