11-Jan-2007
The letter that appears below was something I hurriedly wrote to my friends and family to let them know about the violence that´s happening in the city where I currently live, Cochabamba, Bolivia.
After writing it, I thought it might also interest my readers.
Dear Friends and Family,
I don’t know how much of news of Cochabamba is reaching the States, but things are crazy around here. People have been whispering “civil war” for a month now and I can’t help but wonder if this is the beginning. Or maybe this will all blow over soon. In any case, here’s a brief summary of the past two days:
JANUARY 10, 2005 -- MORNING
I’m watching how a revolution gets started firsthand, which I think is important, not just for my book but for my life. It’s just a minor revolution at this point, but the city has pretty much shut down. I had hoped to make it to the safety of a friend’s house where I’ve been house-sitting, but public transportation is minimal and there are few taxis to be found. (No chance of making it to the house out in the country where I stay sometimes – all of the routes out of the city have been blocked off.) Later, I may try the streets but for now, they are throwing rocks. I am in a building where I have a rented room, but I don’t even have a radio so I don’t know what’s going on other than the shouting that I hear through my window. My rented room doesn’t include a kitchen, which means I don’t have a store of food and my building is right in the middle of this violence so I feel the need to escape. Unfortunately, outside it’s kind of a mob mentality and having blue eyes isn’t a benefit at this point.
The politics of this is complicated. Basically, the protests are to get the prefect (“governor” by another name) of Cochabamba to resign. The prefect hasn’t committed any grave crime. Basically, these protests are being orchestrated by the president who is socialist; the prefect tends toward the right. The president is slowly trying to make the entire government socialist. The right-wing people in government don’t want to step down. They were elected legitimately.
Ironically, the president of Bolivia was nominated for the Nobel peace prize yesterday, which makes me laugh given that “his people” burned the central plaza on Monday. (At least a friend of mine told me he had been nominated – I’m not 100 percent sure this is true.) The scent of tear gas was in the air all afternoon. I’m not really taking sides. I’m just trying to understand this all and place it in context. On a deeper level, the people leading the protests are the poor people of native descent who’ve been oppressed for centuries. And this is real “racism.” By contrast, American race relations between whites and blacks look like a lovefest. These are people who earn less than a hundred dollars a month, whose kids often go without shoes. It’s complicated, as political problems tend to be.
At the moment, all I hear is shouting outside. I’m hoping it pipes down. Stepping outside is foolhardy. But at the same time, I’m desperate to get to the safety of the place where I’m house-sitting, which is a good two kilometers away from the violence, where I can watch this all on TV from the comfort of a warm bed. Plus, I know where the owner of the house keeps a gun. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way. Food will become an issue if this goes on too long. But it may be all over in a matter of hours.
JANUARY 11, 2007 – 7:20 P.M.
Once the shouting had piped down, I ventured outside, where I was lucky to flag down a cab in just two blocks. Right now I’m safely at the house in Pacata (basically the suburbs) where the contrast is striking. No shouting, no tear gas. I spent the afternoon watching an Indian romantic comedy on DVD, which has made this a very strange day.
Tomorrow’s my birthday and I was supposed to go out dancing. I suppose there’s nothing like a revolution to ruin your birthday plans.
JANUARY 11, 2007
This afternoon, watching everything on television has been a strange day. Never mind that it’s my birthday and I’m completely alone and isolated from all my friends. It’s dangerous to travel anywhere.
There are now two opposing groups: The campesinos who want the prefect to resign and a group of citizens who have spontaneously organized a counter-protest, people who are fed up of their city being taken over (I should mention that most of the campesinos have come in from out of town, some from as far as La Paz ). Things are starting to get violent. These two groups are armed with sticks, rocks, and dynamite. The first death has just been reported and there are 20 people wounded at the hospital.
That’s the news for now. I should reiterate that I am completely safe here in the suburbs, as long as my food holds out. The drag is that I forgot my cell phone adapter back in the city so once the battery dies, I’m out of phone contact. Plus, my passport (in the remote case I needed it) is at Bolivian immigration offices, which have completely closed down (my residency is in the works). However, here in the suburbs, the Internet connection is good and walking five blocks to the Internet café doesn’t put my life in peril, so all’s well.
Would love to hear from you. Being trapped indoors all day gets kind of monotonous so any email contact would be appreciated.
XOXXO,
Wendy
