Ali Is Now Abroad

Exiting Empires

2011-08-24T23:39:00.026-04:00

Las Cruces, NM

Border Fence

Dusk at the border - Juarez is at the
base of the mountains

The time has come for me to go. The phase in which you start receiving odd and slightly offensive comments from anonymous readers is a sign that you are ready for round two... the next blog.

I spent seven months of this year preparing to move from Columbia to Colombia. As the "ring before spring" phenomenon hit my graduating class, I watched as women planned their summer weddings. While some dated to find and finalize their fiancés, I speed-dated Colombians. I asked Colombians to coffee, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Applying for the Fulbright in Colombia justified any and every excuse for time within the Colombian community. I thought that by September 2011 I would be writing from a witty new URL that somehow referenced Colombia. However, I am proud to now write from the US Mexico border.

For every anonymous comment, I had a community of bloggers that continued to offer support to a student desperately trying to articulate her experiences in the Global South. Unfortunately, I have to leave this network because I am moving from Blogspot to Tumblr. I would have remained loyal to Blogspot for another three years, but a nice man has the URL I want. I would wait him out, but he has been MIA since the 2008 election.

I am certain that I would have loved living in Colombia if I had been chosen for the Fulbright. I would have been swiftly inducted into the expat community and eventually adopted into the Colombian one. However, it would not have been a perfect vocational fit. My application was strong, but not balanced. I demonstrated a profound interest in Latin American politics and a certain knack for paramilitary activity, but lacked in classroom experience. It was no coincidence that I applied to work in a country that just demobilized over 30, 000 paramilitary troops. Ultimately, it is appropriate that the applicant with no teaching experience was passed over for the English Teaching Assistant. Others are far more qualified to teach in the public schools of Bogotá or Bucaramanga.

However, I have never been more certain of a right decision. The Border Servant Corps is where I belong. The Border Servant Corps is an opportunity for me to work at the margins of the margins. I have been given the chance to live with a view of "exiting empires." Each day I am in between El Paso and Ciudad Juárez, I am a witness to the empire of violence, greed, and oppression. However, each day that I go to work, I bear witness as these empires are replaced by communities who defy the femicide in Juarez, the violence less than a mile away, and the fence itself.

My hope is that my new blog, Exiting Empires , will be permanent - that my life and work will always have a view of "exiting empires." I had a strict policy with Ali is Now Abroad that I would try not to regurgitate my daily activities. Instead, I tried to offer a concise and analytical narrative of what I was experiencing in the Global South. Consequently, this blog cataloged not only trips to four continents, but my maturation as I grew to articulate my political consciousness. However, Exiting Empires will be a reflection of my daily life. When you have a front row view of a city saturated with conflict, you have a responsibility to echo the voices who "say no those who invite us to wash our hands of the crucifixions we witness daily" (Eduardo Galeano).

A view from my neighborhood. To my right is Juarez,
Mexico and the border fence.

The URL for my new blog is: http://exitingempire.tumblr.com/

I Believe in the Streets

2011-05-11T18:53:00.033-04:00

I was quite shocked at how busy my schedule remained my last year at Furman. The time I anticipated spending in "Traveler's Rest" involved little travel and no rest. Therefore, I sought out other spaces to use for reflection. They were not frequent, but the few times I had available, I spent with the Lilly Center. The Lilly Center for Vocational Reflection led two retreats I was able to attend. One at Mepkin Abbey to a monastery in Charleston, and the other in North Carolina modeled after NPR's series, "This I Believe."

The following is the essay written one weekend with Lilly:

I believe in the streets. I believe in their power, their healing, and their sanctification. I believe in the holy act of civil disobedience.
Yes, the streets are a political platform to advocate for the oppressed. But, I am an echo, not their voice. Just as I fight against public injustice, I am fighting for my own self-preservation.

I have to fight for peace of mind – the right to use the streets for political change and a private peace. It is only in the streets that I can translate this anger and this sadness into a prophetic witness. Into joy. Into hope. The streets save me from being lost in translation.

Just as I believe in the transformative power of the streets, I believe in one date in particular – November 21. You will find me at the gates of Fort Benning. I am holding a cross that bears the name of a woman killed in the massacre of El Mozote.
November 3, three weeks before the School of the Americas protest, I am touring the work of their graduates. 800 civilians dead. Our group is walking now. We carry our books for class and our cameras. To our left is the new church. The old one was used to burn children alive. We turn.

We walk to the house where the women were held before being lined up and shot. This? This is the tree that the only survivor of the massacre hid behind. And that? That is the riverbed she laid in before she could escape the 26 soldiers of the Actlatal Battalion.

November21. What am I doing here?
I am looking for other believers.

I am being photographed. I am being watched by soldiers stationed at even intervals around us. While they line the streets, a helicopters hovers over us.
How did I get here? I am a kid from the suburbs. While I stay on the streets for three days, my beautiful family waits nicely behind in our gated community appropriately named … The Enclave. In the Enclave, there is only room for whispers of social justice. I can drink fair trade coffee and try to buy clothes not made in a sweatshop. But, I have read the sign, NO soliciting! Dissent will not be tolerated. There will be no call to arms within gated communities.

With three years in the streets on November 21, this I have learned. I am called to exile. To leave the gated community and suburbs and head to the streets. There, we will find room for truth and justice. Not whispers, but shouts. There I can lay my cross alongside thousands of others at the gates.

Why am I here? Because 19 of the 26 soldiers of the Atlactal Battalion were trained at the School of the Americas in Columbus, Georgia. Because my country sent billions of dollars to a tiny country in Central America to fight a dirty war against civilians. Because in the streets, my life has integrity.

This I believe. There is truth to be found behind barricades and between police officers.

Memorial to the victims of the El Mozote massacre, El Salvador

The new school beside where the old school once was

The names of the children are listed below the mural

The destroyed home where the women of El Mozote were kept still shows bullet holes

School of the Americas Protest, November 19-21, hosted by School of the Americas Watch:

"presente"

Gates of Fort Benning after the November 21 Memorial Service

Rufina Amaya, the only survivor of El Mozote

Father Jon Sobrino, the only survivor of the Jesuit Massacre in El Salvador at the UCA carries a cross for Ignacio Ellacuria at Fort Benning. This was the first time Father Sobrino attended the vigil since his brothers were killed on November 21, 1989.

For more information, please see Mark Danner's "The Massacre at El Mozote"

8 a.m. War Call

2011-05-03T21:28:00.005-04:00

As part of the Vista House community, we all share our narratives during the year. In the process of attempting to articulate my story & theology, I wrote the following prayer:

I am deliberately writing this out - pen to paper, heart to soul. As a daughter of privilege, seeking to follow my Father to His crucified people - this is my only connection - the contact point inside my head. My people, my fragile and beautiful friend group - my tribe cannot handle this. I can barely handle this.

God, give me peace of mind. Peace of Spirit. Trust.
Let me trust my community.
Let me be confidant in my story of faith, in my testimony. - that I have found You in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. that you did not find me in Bible studies and white suburban churches. I don't want to look for you there, because if there - you would be the predictability I was resisting. You did not fit nicely in between the American dream of 3 kids, a Volvo and a gated community.

Lord, give me peace. Give me righteous anger, but take away this rage.

I have more peace of mind abroad, in the face of extremes, than here. There, I can exhale and trust you. I know I am in the Kingdom of God. But, here - am I strong enough to fight my own head? Take this morning- I woke alone a little before 7 to shower and prepare to lead Morning Prayer. I turned on Al Jazeera for the morning news. Listening from afar, I heard news of a sniper and immediately thought Sarajevo. I looked to see if I recognized the buildings, the neighborhood - kinda. Sure enough, and to my dismay, it was BiH. At least abroad, I am braced, ready for the 2 extreme worlds. But, here, it is the subtlety that is alarming - I am not just a 22-year-old getting ready one Tuesday morning. I am shocked when I complete my outfit with a scarf, and realize, I have put on Sarajevo. I am wearing her. This is intimate. This is a lifestyle.

I am trying to process the thoughts and feelings of seeing Sniper Alley, people running for water - for their life. Srebrenica. These violent thoughts follow me down the stairs and into the kitchen. As I make coffee, I think - you don't know me. You cannot possibly want in my head. It's barely 8 am, and I've already been to war.

Tomfoolery at the Vista House

2011-01-15T17:41:00.020-05:00

Traveler's Rest

2011-01-15T16:14:00.015-05:00

I flirted with a gap-year before college, but ultimately never took one. I knew I would not come back. Instead, I promised myself that I would be a commuter - traveling between the Global South and Global North whenever possible. Ultimately, Furman allowed me to visit more countries as a full-time student than I could have ever imagined. I was not only politicized around issues of social justice, politics, and the Global South, but became addicted and consequently chased what has been named the "third world glow."

This blog was never supposed to mature into just that, a full-functioning/developed blog. What started as the now standard college blog to largely communicate with parents and friends, was quickly catalyzed into something entirely different with my introduction to Latin American politics. I became fascinated with narrating what I was witnessing, not what landmarks I had hit in country X. Yet, in an attempt not to regurgitate my daily travel schedule via posts chronicling my every move, I have failed to fill in some gaps - mainly in communicating when I returned Stateside.

I was so eager to disassociate myself with the formulaic suburban lifestyle, I was convinced the urgency and intensity found abroad simply could not exist in the United States. In reality, this blog title applies more to my time spent Stateside. The culture shock hits here, where the beautiful Latin American people who have so generously invited me into their struggle are now the faces I see as landscaping crews or janitorial staff. I literally went from one extreme to another - leaving the Americas Social Forum in Paraguay for a home state now threatening a version of Arizona's SB 1070. It is nothing less than shocking to leave a culture saturated with discussions of human rights, social movements, and progressive government policies to enter into a sanitized political environment devoid of Latino support networks.

Now back in the Unites States for an entire academic year, finishing up the credits needed to graduate, I am slowly learning to negotiate the tension of life in South Carolina, and effectively advocate here. It is a constant battle to convince myself to stay. At the time of the attempted coup in Ecuador, I was stunned to realize I had to bring up the breaking news if the class was to discuss it. I have no interest in playing with ideas, parading around a manicured campus in the shadow of the ivory tower, while Latin America was on on fire - escalating threats against human rights activists in Guatemala, massive mining protests in Bolivia, and the election in Brazil expected to replace the popular Lula with female presidential candidate Dilma Rousseff.

So, where do I call home? A tiny town outside of Furman named .... Traveler's Rest. I am hoping that my mother can now take a break from sending me polite emails reminding me to come home.

After previewing life abroad, I could not live on campus where my entire world would be behind the university gates. Furman is fortunate enough to have a progressive campus ministry known as the Mere Christianity Forum. All my experience and travel can now be expressed as a lifestyle I believe in - living as part of a community offering a different version of faith. I live at the Vista House, an intentional Christian community dedicated to hospitality, community and the arts. Six residents live at the house with the hope that our home can be a sanctuary for students. The bottom floor of our home is always open to the Furman community as provide meals twice a week. Each Sunday we gear up for $4 dinners, where we serve between 20-50 students vegetarian meals. Wednesday nights are reserved for our ongoing dinner serious known as "Evening With...". The Vista House invites Furman faculty or community members to our dinner table to engage in "sharp dialogue and intentional conversation". Our presence on campus is expressed through the Mere Christianity Forum - a Christian ministry that compliments others at Furman by creating a space for dialogue. Taking the lead of our namesake, CS Lewis, we try to advance a framework of faith, reason and tomfoolery by hosting weekly theological forums.

So, if you are ever in the neighborhood, I finally have a guest room to offer!

Pedagogy with a Pulse

2010-09-02T23:44:00.008-04:00

Eight countries, two continents. One poverty studies grant for research in Bosnia and a plane ticket for a conference in Paraguay.
If I had one mantra it would be quite simple.
WORK THE SYSTEM

With so many resources and funding available for students, it is like a game. Classes can be planned for years in advance, scholarships translate and therefore can be used for study abroad, speakers can be invited to campus, additional funding applied for. If you want to attend a conference, look for a call for papers and submit yours - it is normally the only requirement to secure your travel expenses be covered.
Quite often, your university will have an office responsible for student travel/grants etc (at Furman this is Susan Zeiger, director of internships). Summer internships offer even more options- Poverty studies and Furman Advantage both give out 2-4k dollar grants. In addition, your department has independent funds. Go for both.
This blog is a testament not only on how easy the game is, but how easy the game should be. Why shouldn't we have access and information to all opportunities of exposure?

The following article was written for the "O-Week" edition of the Paladin, which is typically read as an advice issue to incoming freshman.

The Paladin

I came to Furman to leave. What permanently recruited me were the study abroad programs Furman offers.

I wanted to use the opportunities presented to gain exposure to all that I could absorb; to study abroad as frequently and in as many countries that a four-year degree would allow. Eight countries and three years of an undergraduate degree later, I have yet to regret my decision to allow Furman to escort me through Latin America and Africa. Why would I stay stateside when I could take the exact same class abroad?

I have little interest in touring the western, industrialized world. In my opinion, Europe seems more appropriate to save for when you are an older person, someone with a Volvo, children and a mortgage. It represented the status quo, a simple mirrored reflection of a life I was already familiar with. I wanted an explicit break - an environment so challenging that the only option was the change and adapt. The curriculum for the Global South is sexy, the subject matter on fire: revolutions, "dirty wars," U.S. foreign policy, poverty, inequality and resistance. A reaction is demanded in response to the issues confronted; one is not allowed to remain neutral. You will never be bored, but always provoked.

The study abroad programs in the Global South, the developing world, are unique in the sheer intensity they offer. The programs are built on a foundation of autonomy and mobility allowed by a structure where professors travel with the students. Consequently, the students are not anchored to one university; yet experience a new country with each new class, often visiting four countries per term. Thus, pedagogy is given a pulse when the classroom becomes mobile.

Nicaragua, El Salvador, Botswana, South Africa - this is authentic engaged learning; experiential learning at its finest. The subjects are saturated with context. Often times, an average day abroad will consist of two rounds of meetings, a tour and a lecture during class. In addition, the home stay component allows pairs of students to briefly live with families to get a taste of authentic local life. The first week schedule of the southern Africa trip is the perfect example of the pace: day one in South Africa we heard from a former freedom fighter involved in the anti-apartheid struggle and visited Soweto, with the Hector Pieterson Museum and President Mandela's home. Careful not to waste precious night hours, we heard a lecture from Dale McKinley, a Furman alumnus. Finally, we found ourselves completing our assigned work in Soweto, the famous South African township. We were living in the same place we were reading about for our homework.

In short, Furman has an amazing amount of resources for students to utilize. Scholarships are not lost in translation- they often fund travel.

So sojourn as often as you can. This is our time to explore, to change and to be pushed. To those hesitant to leave behind the familiar, I promise the vacuum you fear will develop in your absence will be more than filled with what you bring home - new friends, new experiences and new ideas. Go abroad, and go South. Let Europe wait.

¨Another World Is Possible¨

2010-08-15T19:46:00.029-04:00

What is one to do when all political activity is prohibited while on a visa?

Attend an institutionalized protest. Better yet, find the largest gathering of social movements and activists on the continent, and ask your university to fund your flight.

Today was the final day of The Americas Social Forum, a five day event I legally and officially attended as a participant. The Americas Social Forum is a regional gathering that operates as part of the World Social Forum: ¨an open meeting place where social movements, networks, NGOs and other civil society organizations opposed to neoliberalism and a world dominated by capital or by any form of imperialism come together to pursue their thinking, to debate ideas democratically, for formulate proposals, share their experiences freely and network for effective action. Since the first world encounter in 2001, it has taken the form of a permanent world process seeking and building alternatives to neoliberal policies.¨

The forums attract thousands from all over the world, many of who were united after The Battle in Seattle. The Battle in Seattle witnessed a formal coalition of social movements, a green/red blend where activists representing campaigns from Labor, human rights, environmental campaigns, etc. all united to shut down the WTO Ministerial Meeting. This was not the first time activist opposed exploitation and injustice, yet this was the first time cohesion between the interest groups was visible. Building on this momentum, the World Social Forum was born in Porto Alegre Brazil, intentionally using a city that utilizes a framework of economic democracy to highlight a just economic system and a concrete alternative to blind neoliberal capitalism. Since 2001, this platform has been used to build concrete and explicit mechanisms to build Another World and strengthen the global justice movement.

My main objective was exposure. I was familiar with the themes and even some of the groups. I had even formally studied the WSF, between my ¨Social Movements & Collective Behavior¨ class and my Medical Sociology/Public Health class (where the project with Dustin started the crazy process to ask for funding) I was so impressed, it was surreal to be actually attending. To have a pass. To have an official bag. To have to choose what sessions and workshops I wanted to attend.

¨The World Social Forum is also characterized by plurality and diversity, is non-confessional, non-governmental and non-party. It proposes to facilitate decentralized coordination and networking among organizations engaged in concrete action towards building another world, at any level from the local to the international, but it does not intend to be a body representing world civil society. The World Social Forum is not a group nor an organization.¨ Over the course of five days, I went to mostly human rights/faith and politics events. My first session reminded me of why I was in Latin America, to act in solidarity with the people who do not have the luxury of forgetting. Of people who still remember Operation Condor, the role of the US government, and the thousands of disappeared.

My faith and politics session opened with a beautiful dedication to those who were assassinated while trying to bringing God´s Kingdom. The moderator asked for any names we wanted to acknowledge - just hearing Ignacio Ellacuria and Archbishop Romero profoundly moved me. The next activity had all the participants write a symbolic word and then place it on a map of Latin America - seeing the priest I just met that morning write ¨I will not be afraid¨ reminded me of the severity of this situation. This forum, this fight, is among people who have survived. If we chose to have met as activists, students, church leaders and lay people had in the 1970s and 80s, seeing justice, our fate would have been forced disappearances by the paramilitaries that terrorized Latin America.The same stories of those that were on display at The Museum of Memory.

One perk of attending a forum of this size as a student is the networking. I went alone but met up with a friend from Cochabamba. One morning I attended sessions with a German couple, one of which was press. Due the surprising lack of North Americans, we by default attracted attention: I as interviewed while waiting for the presidents to arrive, asked to pose for pictures with an Argentinian NGO group, and listened as a woman asked questions about our government. Ultimately, I was able to make friends and scout for future employers. This is the ultimate opportunity - everyone of interest is consolidated. One organization I am now considering is WITNESS, a human rights organization that uses video advocacy to fight back. The workshop showed us how to use Flip Videos to film human rights abuses, and as others around the world are doing, ¨see it. film it, change it.¨ I am particularly curious to know how the older gentleman in the class will use this new skill, I can only imagine him on the front lines of a riot doing interviews.

And, finally, I was able to see Evo, el Presidente. I missed him in La Paz, thinking he would be there for Independence Day and not realizing that he had gone to Santa Cruz to remind them they really can´t secede. I have never been more excited to see automatic machine guns - it meant that the rumor was true, and even though Evo didn´t join the President of Paraguay during a conference, he chose to speak at the closing ceremony (he was a social movements leader after all). I was one of those people who is clearly affected by celebrity - I like to think I am not, but in the middle of the Bolivian section, above the Wiphalals, I strongly reacted to the sight of Evo and Rigoberta Menchu.

This was the perfect way to conclude my time in Cochabamba. I was already fiercely loyal to a Latin America that people seem to pass for Africa, but now I am hopelessly in love and in awe with a people that ¨Say No.¨

Using to learn the Flip-Video in a workshop with WITNESS

Amnesty International, ¨Mas derechos humanos = Menos pobresa¨

Breaking for lunch

Opening ceremony and march, the Bolivians lead the way

Resources
Favorite Article on the ASF
Introductory article, Americas Social Forum Celebrates Changes in Paraguay
World Social Forum
Americas Social Forum
Upside Down World
WITNESS: see it. film it. change it -> video advocacy/human rights org
The Battle in Seattle

Eduardo Galeano, We Say No

"Disdain betrays History and mutilates the world. The powerful opinion-makers treat us as though we do not exist, or as though we are silly shadows. The colonial inheritance obliges the so called Third World - populated by third-class people - to accept as its own memory of the victors who conquered it and to take on the lies of others and use them as its own reality. They reward our obedience, punish our intelligence, and discourage our creative energy. We are opinionated, yet we cannot offer our opinions. We have a right to the echo, not to the voice, and those who rule praise our talent to repeat parrot fashion. We say no: we refuse to accept this mediocrity as our destiny.

And within this framework, we say no to the neutrality of the human world. We say no those who invite us to wash our hands of the crucifixions we witness daily. To the bored fascination of an art that is cold, indifferent, contemplative of its mirrored reflection, we prefer a warm art, one that celebrates the human adventure in the world and participates in this adventure, an art that is incurably enamored and pugnacious. Would beauty be so beautiful if it were not just? Would justice be just if it were not beautiful? We say no to the divorce of beauty and justice, because we say yes to the powerful and fertile embrace they share."

Traveling Mercies

2010-08-09T11:28:00.021-04:00

I dedicate this to the Sucre posse-
May we never forget to leave home

I consider myself an experienced traveler, I dare say I am even good at it. I have my passport number memorized. I advocate to all who will listen to please sign up for sky miles. I dress nicely (either a skirt or a dress) refusing the safari vest/quick dry pants/hiking shoes tourist uniform. I try to stay off the Gringo trail and use any travel guide other than the Lonely Planet. And, most of all - I do my homework; I watch and read as much as I can before I arrive in a country so I am informed. So. Bolivia, what are you doing to me? I love you, but your system is absurd. These last three weeks have almost killed me.

Bolivia, this is what you have taught me:
Paying for a plane ticket does not guarantee your reservation, you must confirm it in the following two ways:
1. Bolivar allows you to call in, but you cannot call from just any call center. The telephone number must match the telephone service, ie - TIGO phone = TIGO line
Even having a native spanish speaker with you, albeit Catalan, does not ensure success
2. If you are flying TAM, you must physically go to their office. When I asked them why you can´t do it online, they just repeated that you must come to their office. Note that going to the airport is pointless, only the military desk is open, the internationl branch is located in Plaza Constitucion.

Never buy from a travel company in the US. If so, you risk owning a ticket that used a system to find the cheapest available tickets. While logical, they do not like this at TAM. If this happens to you, you will show up to confirm your flight only to be told you have to buy another ticket entirely because your first one is void. As of April 30, TAM does not work with AeroSur. You will recieve no prior notice to inform you of this (Practice your travel vocabulary, all the conversations will be held in Spanish)

Before buying a second ticket, go immediately to skype and call customer service for a refund. Do not get angry at the nice man in India, because of the distance, the echo allows you to hear how rude you are being. Although, continue to fight like its your money, even if your university is paying for the ticket and the new price works out to a better cost ($3 margin)

After all that, when the former-president sells off the airline to cut a World Bank deal, your best best option is still the military airline TAM.

Never take Dorado buses, they are infamous for drunk driving.
Furthermore, three days before a bus trip, don't read newspapers or glance at headlines - the automobile accident pictures are not censored

Try everything to reserve a ¨bus cama¨or ¨¨semicama¨ for long trips, when the Bolivar rep says they have none available, send your friend to another company to scout out the competition. When found, leave the counter and immediately book reservie it. If you don´t know the last names of your new-found traveling posse, make them up

Save money for the national tax, otherwise you can´t get out

If you hear fireworks during the day, it is a protest - find out who is striking and make alternative transportation plans

Maps are not that important, use graffiti as landmarks - its more interesting. If you are in Cochabamba, you will receive a political education - this is high class work, they use soundbites like neoliberalism

When in doubt, just use skype. It never gets old telling the customer service representative that you cannot give a number (in case you are disconnected) because you are calling from abroad

You must bring your own lock even if you pay $4 and your only option is to stay at the normally priced $2 local hostel. Yet, this won't ensure that there will the appropriate number of beds for 6 people (located in separate rooms)or that that a random Bolivian man will take the bed reserved for the driver.

Any tour company with the world "solidarity" in their logo can be trusted to guide you to Toro Toro, land of the dinosaurs

Do what you must to access the news, particularly if it is for the first time in 2 months. (Adding just the right amount of tension to the chord be stretching it across the room until taut is the trick)

Having an official despedida does not mean you won't be so determined to come back you will fly while sick (they can´t stop you from boarding if you just tell them No, you cannot go see the airport doctor who is working at gate one)

You need the month of June to get a 6 day tourist visa:

-Start by reserving a minimum of 6 days to accumulate all the paperwork, since every service is decentralized, it works out to be about a day for each task (printing forms, making copies, having color photos made)
-You will need the patience for one walking tour of Cochabamba to discover there is no longer a Paraguayan consolate in CBB and therefore the online information is wrong
- A fluent Spanish speaker is convenient for calling the Embassy to confirm credit card information is standard or with a 7 number saga to find the actual location of a Paraguayan State representative
- If you try to work on your visa during the morning in Cochabamba, walk to your destination - this will ensure you will miss the traffic caused by the standard protest, but allow you to still see the marcha.
- When the riot police pass you, don't stare!
- To be safe, change your ¨intention of travel¨ from the Americas Social Forum to generic tourism
- block off more than enough days in La Paz, you must arrive before Independence Day and any holiday
- Don´t finish the argument with the employees, let them tell you to re-do your paperwork by hand, even though everyone knows its more convenient to use the typed version
-Having a flexible schedule, such as no real job or kids, is more convenient when you are forced to take 2 mornings off to finalize the process
- Finally... never make a political statement or offer statistics when going through this process for the first time. They don't care that Arizona is being sued by the United States government or that between 1980-1986 (the height of the dirty wars in Latin America) only 341 people received legal entry into the US from the 30, 000 who applied

If it is your first trip, and you didn't know you would need a lock in the rainforest, strategically place items (books, bumper stickers, indigenous weaving) to show that your are on the side of the people

20 hours on a bus with 5 am arrivals is worth it if you see The White City and one white lamb

Finally, when your Bolivian dad literally blesses you with the Sign of the Cross in the airport, add your own prayer for Traveling Mercies-

La Paz vs. YGC

2010-08-04T16:24:00.001-04:00

It is just too fun, I can´t give up posting personal emails. They just seem to be a more dynamic way to mirror life here.

Dear Michael,
I did not forget the 4.30 deadline. I am in La Paz to get my visa for
Paraguay so after I picked it up at 3.30 I immediately got a taxi back to
where I stored my bags. In an attempt to be as efficient as possible and
on time for our meeting, I asked the driver if he could wait and take me
to my hotel, he said no because there were marchas (a protest) and so the
streets were blocked. I tried again with another taxi only to arrive and discover that the ¨internet¨ advertised is one computer in the lobby. I would skype you
from here but I there computer is behind the desk, so there is no privacy. We could just IM, which would be quite humours because it looks like I work here. Ironic, considering while I type this email there ithe real employee is behind me using a typewriter.

Let me know if we can reschedule. I am heading out after this to look for an
internet cafe. I apologize for the delay.

Ali

We Would Have Met

2010-07-28T00:15:00.009-04:00

Subject: We Would Have Met
From: Ali Boyd
Date: July 28, 2010 12:13:20 AM EDT
To: Dean Chahim

Dear Dean,
We would have met Sunday in a tiny pueblo with only one phone. I would have been standing next to the plaza, in between the tourist office and the replica of a dinosaur. We would have not even mentioned the dinosaur, because, it was of course normal. (This is Toro Toro, famous for its prolific dinosaur footprints). I would have seen you first because I was facing the exit from the main road as I waited. I met Claudia when she asked me, without an introduction, if I had been into the cave yet. I would have told you, as I told her, that yes we went the day before. After formal introductions, we would talk logistics - where we work, where we live, where we stayed in Toro Toro, what time we were leaving. I would have told the same antecodoate about waking up in a sketchy hostal, 5 of us sharing 3 beds, and finding another man in the bed reserved for our driver, Ricardo.

We could have laughed about the absurdity of a $5 room and the stranger we did not pay for, and then left to go talk Bolivian politics. I could ask you if you saw the abandoned houses flanking the Santa Cruz road. Our conversation could have played out effortlessly. "Did you read the El Diario article about the police forcefully evicting the squatters? The pictures were so intense! It looked like a war zone, with all the tear gas and riot gear! What do you think about squatters rights? The Landless Workers' Movement?"

But, we did not meet Sunday. In your place, I met your Engineers Without Borders posse and a friendly girl named Claudia. Maybe one day we can line up time zones and I won't have to explain that we have yet to meet, frente a frente, that we have only worked for Beyond Good Intentions. This "six degrees theory" is starting to seem like a joke -

Until then, we will continue sharing the Latin America we love so much,
Ali

God and Graffitti

2010-07-20T22:23:00.021-04:00

If you ever come visit, I can give you directions. In other words, I just passed the halfway mark and feel that I can confidently say that I have settled into Cochabamba. I ran through all the basics - bought a cell phone, a Bolivian SIMM card and minutes, secured internet and a working computer charger. (This was done after Raffo, my Bolivian dad, pulled out the pesky third prong of my charger). I became the proud owner of a TIGO USB internet stick so I could go mobile and connect to a 3G network; imagine trying to browse the internet and run an inappropriate amount of tabs on Firefox using an iPhone. I just assumed I had the when-traveling-in-a-developing-country-do-the-following¨ formula down. Not in Cochabamba.

I intentionally arrived on a Friday to have the weekend to familiarize myself. I quickly realized I was limited effectively to the the suburbs for three days. I panicked because I am in a very nice apartment building, Cochabamba Proper, if you will. I had come to apply what I study at Furman - Political Science/poverty/Latin American studies - and found myself in a sanitized suburb. One can´t exactly feel the movement from 3b. Surely I was cheating on solidarity with my fancy address!

My home-stay is very "safe" meaning I live in a very modern apartment building kilometers away from the city center, and thus the Plaza Principal that hosts all the political activity. As I write this, the hunger strike just ended Sunday and there have already been two protests this week (it is Tuesday). Ironically, part of me is slightly relieved because I am more aware of my personal safety here then every before. Stories circulate about the friends of friends who have been mugged, hurt or scared. So for now 3b will work until my Spanish catches up with my political curiosity. I can't exactly ask the person with the knife to wait while I conjugate verbs.

The first day my orientation started when I was picked up and shown how to use public transportation. You might be thinking, shouldn’t you know how to use public transportation if your traveling this much? Maybe you should re-think your blog name... I know it seems basic, but it really is a game you have to learn. There are cultural cues, social norms and rules you have to be introduced to. I catch a trufi, a glorified minivan/microbus, five times a day. Line 260. You exit and leave at any time. I try my best not to be conscious of my Spanish and therefore rendered mute, but it is hard. Especially after I learned I was yelling the wrong phrase, instead of "voy a bajar," I was confidently parroting "voy a dejar." I now just stick with ¨la esquina por favor¨ or simply follow someone out. The other day when I asked to stop, a man in the front seat literally turned around to see who was speaking with the accent.

My research paid off because my school,Bolivia Sostinable is legit. It is exactly like the Vista House, an intentional community. It is a communal house hosting residents, the office, and classrooms. There is even an Art Resident (Vista house addition, no ve?).

My saving grace was catalyzed by an announcement my first day at Bolivia Sostinable for a politics lecture! I was able to get more of a grasp on the last 8 years, 5 presidents, the Water War, Gas War, and exactly why there is no longer a US Ambassador, DEA or Peace Corps presence. This was complimented by my city tour where I witnessed a military demonstration and my first Cochabamba protest. I don't exactly know what the issue was, but I think land rights. My protest vocabulary set was not exactly up to par yet, but I did recognize the word justicia.

In the absence of a map (naturally, the tourist office shut down for the week while the government changed over) I started using God and graffiti to orient myself. They are static and easy to remember. Street names are more challenging – they are mostly other inanimate objects such as countries (Espana, Ecuador, America) or dates (14 de septiembre, 9 de abril). I assume with 188 coups in 157 years, it is safer to name streets after famous dates than fleeting heads-of-state.

I know that I need to keep Jesus (that statue that is) on my left on the way to school and behind me to go home. If I take a taxi to the school, I follow the wall that begins with instructions to ¨resist the working class¨and concludes with the ominous "Assassinate Evo." To go to the Plaza Principal, I connect the dots of unimaginative communist graffiti all the way down calle Sucre. It is time to get off for Taraja when I am informed, in English, PUNK IS DEAD. I was terribly late on morning when I passed a huge mural depicting the Water Wars and their slogan ¨el agua es nuestro, carajo." (The fact I liked the mural and would have trouble relocating it meant I was kilometers away from my destination). I eventually was able to consecrate my fresh-from-the-US-it-took-2-weeks-thanks-mom and dad for all your help-debit card in the Anarchy ATM Machine, instructing us to "destroy and rebuild." Finally, I designated my favorite work of graffiti ¨libre palestina,¨ complete with a picture and a slogan. It is not Banksy, but I take it as a christening each time I pass under the bridge that welcomes me back to the suburbs. I am reminded why I am here. I am in Cochabamba, laying my pride on the line, to learn radical spanish, one saturated with politics. I am "arming my voice."

From 3b to Bolivia Sostinable:

Leave Edificio Altamira, calle America

Flag a truffie from line 260

Keep Jesus on your left as you head into the city

Arrive at Bolivia Sostinable

My teacher and I abandoned the charming 2 person classrooms to work outside

Important Landmarks:

"Resist the Working Class"

"Free Palestine"

"Destroy and Rebuild"

This is my "I-am-a-quasi-tourist-but-live-here, don't-rob-me-outfit"
No bag + pants = cell phone + cash --> I bought flowers for my home-stay family on my first visit to La Cancha, the largest market in South America

To: dgourdin@uchicago.edu / Subject: Visas

2010-07-17T23:08:00.004-04:00

Yet another email. They seem to be the most effective way to show the tension between real life and politics:

Subject: Visas
From: aliboyd@mac.com
Date: July 17, 2010 11:06:25 PM EDT
To: dgourdin@uchicago.edu

They are 135, approximately the same amount it is for Bolivians to enter the US. Though its a little different when you are the poorest country in South America and the American government is convinced your life goal is to fly legally into a country and then never return. From Rio, it is about a 5 day trip one way via bus and/or train.

Your only option would be to fly or meet me in Paraguay (Asuncion on the 11th) but I think would push your Chicago schedule too far. Also, that is another Visa. Maybe you should just change your citizenship ... The tickets are running at about $800. [Because] we have no infrastructure here thanks to extreme poverty and no real commercial airlines thanks to former President Goni who sold the airlines to cut a World Bank deal. Even though he fled after The Gas Wars for the sanctuary of the US, there are only 3 commercial airlines, one of which is military.

I would still say come. I am convinced if I could show you this version of the Global South you would be permanently recruited from Africa. Did I mention the Bolivian VP is a sociologist?"

ATM vs. Anarchy

2010-07-14T18:53:00.006-04:00

One of my favorite emails sent to my mother while trying to live in Bolivia:

Subject: ATM

Tried it again. I even went to my favorite ATM in the city - the machine conveniently next to la Universidad San Simón and placed above the anarchy graffiti, instructing us to "destroy and rebuild" ...
I thought since I was trying to fight The Man but still use The Man, it would show a little grace.
Alas, nada... hypocrisy is transparent.

On the Edge of the Kingdom

2010-07-11T22:41:00.001-04:00

The 15th anniversary of Srebrenica is today; these strong women buried 775 Muslim men and boys this year. See "Boxing a Youtube Genocide" for my post from the anniversary last year.
The following is a piece I wrote for Jottings, the literary publication of the Mere Christianity Forum. I reflect on my experiences in the wake of war. Where others seem to lose God, I found Him/Her in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil

Psalm 23:4

My Jottings submission:

I was ready. I had no choice. I had to go in prepared, rehearsed and researched. Three visits to massacre sites in less than two years. Yet, this time I was alone to visit and conduct research in Srebrenica, the site of the worst European massacre since World War II.

The wake of war became shockingly casual - burned houses with naked skeletons of three story houses were familiar. I continued with my daily routine, trying to forget that the house in front of mine suffered the loss of three boys. I continued shopping for groceries even after realizing the man in the juice aisle has no left arm; then rationalizing that it was more important that was a man still alive.

I joined the 30, 000 people at the Memorial Ceremony of July 11, 2009. Fourteen years after the war ended, Srebrenica had only to bury 534 men and boys that year. They laid to rest 534 more from the over 8, 000 Muslims killed while seeking sanctuary in a UN Safe Zone. As I witnessed the line of coffins filing by me, I paid my respect with such meager offerings - my camera, my witness, this voice. I didn't break, didn't cry. I had no right to cry, I have lost nothing.

The funeral and memorial ceremony were an act of solidarity. This gave me hope because I was part of thousands who continue to remind the world that we pledged “never again” after the Holocaust. I felt the raw edges between the “Kingdom Come” and a world trying to bring the Kingdom now as we echo the mantra “never again” through Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda and now Darfur.

Consequently, what scared me and moved me to tears was a video I saw on Youtube. It was recorded by a Serb soldier during the massacre; a father was yelling for his son to come down from hiding in the mountains while surrounded by soldiers that would eventually add him to a mass grave. Genocide had found Youtube, and I couldn't take it. If we can now watch people literally being marched to their grave and not react, what kind of sick game is this? When taught about the Holocaust, why are we not also taught about the concentration camps in Argentina or the 677 camps that filled Bosnia? I used to imagine my “Valley of the Shadow of Death" as natural worse case scenarios - cancer, death of a family member, or a serious accident. My Valley was quite small because I was raised in a world that gave me a perfect childhood sanitized of extreme pain. Yet, I had found a manufactured Valley of the Shadow of Death – one filled with structural violence – such war, poverty and inequality.

As a result, I almost drowned in the face of “daily crucifixions.” For a while, I merely treaded water among questions of solidarity, suffering and my personal anger. By day I would meet concentration camp survivors and by night I would read their stories. In Sarajevo I waited in the same line to buy lunch where 16 people died in during the war*. Walking home, I knew what areas to avoid because they had yet to be de-mined. As my Valley encountered and absorbed more violence, I became polarized. How could I not only remain neutral, but also forgive people for crimes I never witnessed?

The day after the Srebrenica funeral, I heard young Serb Nationalists came into Srebrenica and yell “we will rid the Balkans of all Muslims.” How could I love these kids, younger than me, who screamed death threats the day after the community buried 534 beloved ones? All I wanted to do was vomit; I needed a concrete physical release from the disgust I felt from inside a preventable Valley of Death.

I was no longer in the shadows, I was meeting people who had survived war and lost others from preventable murder. One of the people I would encounter was Miroslav Volf, torture survivor and theologian; his work offers a transparent theology that reminds us we are called to a relationship of love, reconciliation and forgiveness. I was shown a Valley so deep and wide that it both brings me to my knees and revives me. Where others seem to lose God, I found Him/Her. It was on the edge, that I could hear God whispering the same words an Iraqi father spoke to his child: “Come back my son, come to my lap. I am your father.” Both fathers have known intimate violence and the pain of losing their children to war.

I came to realize that the “Valley of the Shadow of Death” is supposed to be a magnificent Valley that testifies of the Kingdom. I used to consider the natural splendor a cruel exaggeration of the suffering, but now I know it is God challenging affliction. Killing fields such as Srebrenica and El Mozote are truly sacred because they are Holy Ground. It is here we feel the edges of the Kingdom; for it is in profound beauty and profound oppression that concrete theology manifests; it is an opportunity to bring the kingdom now, not just to come.

We must stop saying "Never Again” if we make this promise and then remain neutral. "Until Next Time" is more appropriate until justice has been served and violence prevented. If I wanted to consume information and remain neutral, I would have stayed home and googled Srebrenica. As the July 11 anniversary of Srebrenica approaches each year, I fight for “they kingdom come:” I educate myself on the current wars by complimenting mainstream media with independent sources such as Democracy Now! or Al Jazeera English (they are not embedded with American troops). I “speak truth to power” by signing petitions and notifying my representatives that there is accountability. I also offer my support to organizations such as Witness for Peace who refuse to leave the conflict zones the world seems to have abandoned.

Please start to bring the Kingdom now by signing the petition to say “Never Again” in the face of the current genocide in Darfur, Sudan.

May those who never forget remind us who try!

* 27 May 1992. Bread Line Massacre, Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Resources

The Srebrenica Genocide Blog is constantly updating with new information.
General background information on the worst European massacre (in a UN Safe Zone) since WWII can be found here.

¡Bienvenidos a Cochabamba!

2010-07-05T21:24:00.017-04:00

Note: I sent this as an email because I am behind on my blogging. I am still trying to publish posts from traveling in southern Africa on study abroad with Furman. But, I need to get this up, so here it is:

I promised myself I would never do an update email. I have a blog, after all. Except when your blogging as if you are still in Africa when you are very much in Bolivia. Besides, I am using a keyboard where 9 1/2 of the keys have labels taped to them. It is just too tempting...

I am in Cochabamba. Thanks to skype. Before you read any further, please go make a skype account. It is a life necessity. My flight left almost 2 hours late from Miami so in addition to listening to a two hiker´s litany of every outdoor vacation they have taken, their new gear, and the family that just ¨let them go¨I missed my flight to Cochabamba. I had to buy a visa upon arrival, 135 USD. My first taste of the progressive government of Evo Morales. He mirrored US immigration policy and consequently made American entry into the country just as expensive and complicated as we make our frontera. I was told I could fly standby at 7 pm that night, 12 hours from then. I called my school in Cochabamba and informed them I was not on the flight that should be arriving in a few minutes. The phone cut out just in time for me to hear them say go to another airline. Oh, ok. Not as an experienced traveler as I thought I was.

So, after buying 2 bottles of water to combat the altitude, (La Paz is the highest capital in the world) I went and stored my luggage. I learned that in SFO - I could lap that tiny airport free of my bag. Realizing I couldn't work the pay phone, I went to the internet cafe and called the school followed by a call to my mom. I booked a flight for 9.30 that morning and then went to get my bags back out of storage. Try conjugating verbs while clearly affected by the altitude. I could barely think in English. I called my mom back and asked her to please call Cochabamba, I couldn't miss my next flight and the cell phone number I was given wasn't working.

Round two. I go to the gate, confidant because I just bought a plane ticket in Bolivia. I was promptly told to turn around, I had to pay the national tax -paid it, went through. Not hard, I will just wait until they line up and fall in the back. So, I am sitting in my gate, just sitting there. My head hurts too much to read and then they announce my full name. I go the man and try to give him my plane ticket. No, we are not boarding, he needs me to follow him. I am led outside, onto The tarmac and into a back room. Surely, it cant be this sketchy hours into the country. My dad is going to be worried. So, what now? A bribe? Questioning? They searched my bag and saw the amount of political books I was importing? They ask if I have any gas in my bag? No, no gas. I am not a terrorist. I am coming to your country to learn extreme activism, remember? Aren't you the people who stage a coup every 8 months? I finally show them my shaving cream nicely tucked under and beside books, they are after all, books about Bolivia and public interest lawyers, not exactly threatening.

I am on the plane not worrying that I have no ride and no way of contacting the school once I arrive. I am traveling much looser than I would have liked. The 30 minute flight takes us over the Andes. I mark myself as the tourist when I get my camera out. I couldn't resist the cliche tourist photo. Then, I realize this flight is going to both Cochabamba and Sucre. 2nd touristy act. I get out my guide book and open the map to see which city is first. I get off in the right one. In Cochabamba I grab my bag from the 13 that are circling and sit down. Do I have enough nerve to roll with all my luggage, between the crowd of men blocking the telephones? No. I will just wait; they are all watching the world cup, these are serious fans. I spot gringos, stare them down, they keep going. Finally, the director arrives to take me to the school. My mom called from SC and left a message on their voice mail. She's legit; instead of panicking she uses Skype to set up a carpool for me.

I check in and leave to go meet my home stay family. They are a retired couple who live in a nice apartment building. They don't seem to reflect the same frequency in which I want to discuss politics, but love to talk about family, the medical alert dog my brother has for his diabetes and how much I like to read. They send me out the next night with their 23 year-old nephew and instructions to only speak in Spanish. He doesn't seem to have an affinity for politics either.

Just in case I get scared of a life with no politics, I know that Jesus is always watching. He stands outside my bedroom window. Personally, I think he wishes the Cochabambinos were a little more creative, though he is taller here, they still copied him from Brazil.

So, I am here. Cochabamba: home of the Water Wars and the first successful fight against a multinational corporation attempting to privatize a life necessity. I can attend language school anywhere, so I came for this city - for a politicized environment. I am here to learn Spanish and sophisticated social movements (after a strict warning from the school´s director not to become involved in politics. I can look, but not touch. No really, I can get deported -we learned that in South Africa.)

Moral of my narration - go abroad. Each and every time you have a chance, go south. Save the West for when you are old, with a Volvo and a mortgage. I promise, you will never be bored -

I suggest using this map from Information is Beautiful as a guide

"Captitalism, A Love Story?"

2010-06-09T19:57:00.039-04:00

When I give food to the poor they call me a saint.
When I ask why the poor have no food they call me a communist.
- Dom. Hélder Camara

"Careless consumerist consumption
Dangerous dysfunction

Disguised as expensive tastes”

Josh Garrels, “Zion & Babylon”

I am called a communist on a fairly predictable basis. It is quite underwhelming considering the accusers are largely uninformed. I doubt few could differentiate between communism and socialism. If in fact someone was to directly ask my opinion regarding economics, they would understand that I not only can justify my views, but that I am indeed a proponent of capitalism. What I object to are hegemonic economic policies such as neoliberal, corporate globalization that is commodifying the very lives of people born in the Global South. They are drowning in the wake of increased inequality and unfair competition.

It seems quite axiomatic that I would question the Western economy once it was made transparent. Furman’s Latin American study abroad trip exposed us to the realities behind trade agreements such as NAFTA and CAFTA: we walked the cornfields of farmers losing their literal history to subsidized agribusiness, heard the stories of men who risked everything for El Norte and were even allowed into a maquiladora (at best, a factory, at worse, a sweatshop). Only within the framework of naked economics, were we able to see and hear the people who supplied our excessive consumerism.

$99 price tag

Pictures were taken in a maquiladora, on a visit to Free Trade Zone - 2008

Aside from issues of excess materialism, I just want to lead an honest lifestyle. I can’t advocate for social change if I am not implementing those ideals at every level. How awkward would it be if you fill an “Operation Christmas Child Box” with toys made by the same 12 year old kids whose Christmas you are furnishing?

What I found when I returned and started to change my lifestyle was that there are great resources - Better World Shopper, The Good Guide and Better World Books - but if you don’t live in San Francisco, access is extremely limited. You are stuck with clothes that suggest you are an older soccer mom or yearn to return to the African community you lived with for 23 years as a volunteer. Let’s be honest, I don’t necessary want to wear ethnic patterns. What I want is an ethical version of Anthropologie in the deep South.

My much more hipster friend (the kind that bikes and blogs) convinced me to spend one of our three free days (on a 59 day trip) at the Design Indaba Conference. I caught a glimpse of what could be in Capetown; with the mantra “a better world through creativity” it is a “100% local-is-lekker celebration of South African’s ingrained creativity.” We were given a one day guest pass to Mecca; an entire conference center filled with sophisticated products. I have never enjoyed a shopping experience so much - pure competition between vendors to see who produced the best product. I took three laps around the center: one to soak it in, a second to scout out the products and a final trip to stop wasting time and starting building my resources and to buy samples/products. Shopping was refreshing, not stressful. Ultimately, we witnessed an underground economy - one of fair, ethical and direct trade; the same one Americans must supplement with the internet.

Design Indaba Expo 2010 from Design Indaba on Vimeo.

"Since 1995, Design Indaba has been committed to a vision that is built on the belief that creativity will fuel an economic revolution in South Africa.
As such, Design Indaba is a celebration of design in a country iconic of the triumph of the human spirit. Proof that even the most intractable problem can be neutralised by the will of the people, resurgent South Africa is a beacon to the world. Design Indaba typifies this can-do spirit through its belief in design and how it can help solve the problems faced by an emerging economy. With the right support, a better future can be designed."
Design Indaba

_______________________

RESOURCES*
This is my favorite set - practical and easy to use. Start with Better World Books and Better World Shopper and incorporate fair trade coffee, t- shirts, etc. If you have other suggestions, please add them in the comments section of this post.

Better World Shopper
Five years of research compiled into a resource that rates products on an ethical scale. Available for download so it can be used while shopping.
Available as an iPhone application or $5 to download and import into iPhoto - take your iPod shopping with you. Once you use it a few times, you memorize what brands are best

Better World Books
Buy new and used books with free, carbon-neutral shipping while supporting literacy initiatives. BWB is a "self-sustaining, triple-bottom-line company that creates social, economic and environmental value for all our stakeholders."

The Good Guide
"Find safe, healthy and green products, then find better ones using expert ratings."
Availabe as an iPhone application

United Students Against Sweatshops

Interfaith Worker Justice

Hardcore Socially and Environmentally Responsible Gift Guide

B Corporation
"B Corporations are a new type of corporation that use the power of business to create public benefit"

TOMS Shoes

The People´s Shoe
¨Followers of the brand appreciate the brand’s commitment to the people, with a percentage of profits going to The Starfish Project, a humanitarian organization in Cambodia that provides medical aid and housing to the needy. The brand’s catchy aesthetic and faultless principles make it a fine addition to any wardrobe, as recent converts Santogold, Interpol, Vampire Weekend and Metric can all testify.¨

Books
Born to Buy
Affluenza: The All Consuming Epidemic

Film
--> Behind the Swoosh with Jim Keady & Educating for Justice
After raising issues over Nike's business practices, Jim Keady was forced to resign from his job as a soccer coach. He went to China and lived on the "living wage" of a factory employee for one month. Behind the Swoosh documents what life is really like surviving on factory wages. More information about the campaign to end sweatshop labor can be found at Educating for Justice.

Death by Suburbia

2010-05-21T21:49:00.047-04:00

Artwork at the Center for Global Education (Windhoek) depicting Hector Pieterson

A majority of all my actions are motivated by one desire - to get out of the suburbs. I often joke about white suburbia because it is an easy target; I still don't know how to reconcile my appreciation for a perfect childhood with confusion over a sheltered interpretation of reality. Even when asked about my blog title, I explain that it applies most when I am Stateside, it is there I feel most like a foreigner. I chose Furman's study abroad program because I wanted a dramatic break from the lifestyle attached to this package. I recognize this is not a new idea- what kid does not want to differentiate themselves from the familiar? However, what I wanted was complete liberation - not only geographically, but intellectually - ideas that made me so uncomfortable the only solution was to change. My resolution was to study abroad ... as often and as in as many countries as I could.

Needless to say, I was quite pleased with myself after our first week in South Africa. Our theme was quite simply "go big or go home." Our transition was two-fold: our initial accommodations were comfortable while in Johannesburg thanks to the hospitality of St. Benedicts. We had single rooms at the Church guest house, a beautiful garden, daily Mass we could join, and yes, we were in the suburbs. The subtle nature of our transition stopped at the Church gates. Intellectually, it was a plan of shock-and-awe. Day one we heard from a former freedom fighter involved in the anti-apartheid struggle, visited Soweto, the Hector Pieterson Museum and saw President Mandela's home. Careful not to waste precious night hours, we heard a lecture from Dale McKinley - a Furman alumnus whose current claim-to-fame is being kicked out of the South African Communist Party. In addition to briefing us on the anti-privatization movement in South Africa (in preparation for our visit to Orange Farm the following day), he explained how one goes from a former ROTC cadet to a key actor in South African politics. Finally, our first week concluded as our group set out in pairs to experience the authentic South Africa- we were staying with a family for the weekend.

When I learned we would be staying in Soweto for three nights, I was anxious. I couldn't believe that we would be "living" in THE Soweto- famous for its politics, leaders (two Nobel Peace Prize Winners on one street) and its violence. Even knowing the Center for Global Education chooses families not only willing to share their homes, but their life stories, the weekend is an extraordinary test of people skills.

It is only ironic that our first weekend spent in the real Africa was in the suburbs. Most of us, including our professor, expected our homes to be in a lower-income areas (as subsequent home stays were). Soweto is the infamous product of the Group Areas Act, legislation passed by the apartheid government to physically separate the races. The black population was relocated to a specific area to service the white residents. Apartheid legalized structural oppression - the system anchored non-whites in a position of poverty and desolation. The Soweto of today threatens the Africa stereotype - the township synonymous with poverty and tin shacks has evolved into an African suburb with large manicured homes.

Depth was added to the width of my formal studies of South Africa the moment I entered Soweto as a guest. I found a sanctuary of culture, a community alive with a spirit of survival and resistance. I was able to witness normative activities (grocery shopping, visiting family, trips to the mall) as they revolved around historical icons. In spending time with my family, I realized the implications of exactly where I was - we would casually pass by Mandela's house, the streets made famous by the 1976 student uprising or the hostels that bear witness to the horrendous migratory labor system. I was introduced to the face of the struggle at a dinner table in Pimville; I was told of the brother who sacrificed his body for freedom - tortured by the police for his unwavering belief in democracy.

My time spent in one African suburb was sobering - the neighborhood is saturated with resistance. Even the students rose to fight the system; children my age and younger organized themselves in a non-violent protest and were mercilessly gunned down by the police in 1976. The echoes of the fight still ring today in the wake of those died while fighting on the streets. I can only imagine if all neighborhoods were as politicized.

View of Soweto

During apartheid, pollution from energy sources was released in the black neighborhoods while the residents of Soweto lacked electricity. When energy providers finally serviced Soweto, they were built outside of the township. The useless reactors now serve as a reminder of not only the apartheid legacy, but environmental racism

The infamous hostels - "housing" for migrant workers mining gold and diamonds

Hector Pieterson Museum in Soweto

Our adopted family

Trashcan lid used by students as a shield in the '76 uprising

Johannesburg newspaper from February 2010

Nelson Mandela's home
8115 Orlando Street, Soweto
Johannesburg
Hector Pieterson - Soweto Student Uprising in 1976

"A Skeptic's View on Child Sponsorship "

2010-05-15T22:56:00.005-04:00

We have all seen the commercials with a small, third-world child
in the arms of a nice white person...

most of us brace for the monetary "ask" that inevitably comes at the end
So, is it really working?

An interesting article written by a friend witnessing the effects of sponsorship first-hand in Rwanda:
A Skeptic's View on Child Sponsorship

Skins and Schools

2010-05-07T21:56:00.023-04:00

Bushmen skins were openly sold in Botswana until the 1960s. One could decorate their home with African souvenirs that included pottery, traditional drums or the very skin of the Batswana indigenous population. Two generations later, the children of the Bushmen are no longer sold, just stolen.

Our group was invited to meet Bushmen and then participate in some activities with some of the last preservers of this mighty culture. Our time together revealed a highly complex system; for example, the trans-dance, medicinal walk and cave paintings testify to a culture innovative enough to leave a mark that has endured for 26, 000 years! One morning, three women took us into the bush to share medical and survival skills that have been both preserved and celebrated. We were shown edible plants, techniques to avoid the African sun, and tracking methods. Epstein describes the health care practiced as one that rivals the often championed Western biomedical approach: "some African medicine does have scientifically measurable chemical activity. African healers were among the first to develop the technique of smallpox inoculation, for example, and used quinine to cure malaria long before Europeans did." It is evident that not only has trust been established between the indigenous people and the land, but that they posses an enviable understanding of the intimate relationship between the environment and one's lifestyle. Sadly, this balance has never known perfect harmony, it is constantly being threatened by outsiders.

The tragedy of the Bushmen is currently relapsing. Western schooling has been rendered mandatory and consequently legalizes the forceful removal of Bushmen children. Traditional education has now been rendered worthless. The flaws in this process make this type of activity criminal; while education is a human right, this pedagogy kidnaps children and sanitizes them of their precious history. I believe some form a standard education is needed in order to protect the Bushmen; if they are educated on their civil rights, they cannot be further exploited. Ironically, this "enlightened" education is not one of liberation, but further oppression.

Why bus the children over 100 km from their established familial and communal roots? Why not blend the curriculum with traditional and modern teaching? What consequences should they brace for as the family structure is being ripped apart? Have the psychological damages done to these children been calculated? Please tell me how an eight-year-old copes as they encounter the loss of their family and a new sense of isolation!

Surely, our collective memory is not this short! Every country has their own shameful history with indigenous peoples. Native Americans in the United States were notoriously mistreated in the school system designed to assimilate them. The struggle of the Aboriginal people against forced education is the most recent event to highlight the self-determination of the people. It has been made famous by the true story, Follow the Rabbit Proof Fence. As the United States accounts for reservations mired by social problems and Australia fights over what day to nationally apologize, I wonder who will hold the government of Botswana accountable?

As the African "singe story" is incessantly exported is one of underdevelopment and poverty, it is predictable that the government of Botswana is trying to sanitize their modern nation-state from a culture labeled "primitive;" but how many "stolen generations" will we allow?

_______

To take action:
Take the pledge and add to the Sea of Hands Project
Australians for Native Title and Reconciliation, ANTaR
ANTaR's Issues and Campaigns

Resources:
Time magazine explains the "Stolen Generation"
Apology Speech of Kevin Rudd (Australia)

Boxing A Youtube Genocide

2010-04-15T22:14:00.003-04:00

"Tears spring to my eyes. But I have been preparing for this. I feel like a boxer who knows he is about to be hit, each muscle tightening so as not to crumble when the actual blow lands; ready to hit back. Not to think but to act."

Mariane Pearl

I was ready. I had no choice. I had to go in prepared, rehearsed and researched. Three massacre sites in 16 months; but this time I was living and working where it happened for three weeks in and around the burial ceremony of 534 Muslim men and boys.

I am in Srebrenica. The site of the worst massacre since World War II. Over 8,000 Muslim men and boys were killed in an act of genocide by the Serb Army in a "protected"UN Safe Zone filled with refugees. I didn't brake when I saw the shockingly casual site of burned houses, the intimate naked skeletons of three story houses. The shell markings and bullet holes. I walked the streets of Srebrenica, passing the destroyed houses. I continued with my daily routine, trying to forget that the house in front of mine lost 3 boys. I explained to the women behind our house that I was locked out and found a kitten, not dwelling on the fact that her family buried a husband and son of 16 years this July. I continue shopping for groceries even after realizing the man in the juice aisle has no left arm and that he is a man, alive. I joined the 30, 000 people at the Memorial Ceremony. I tolerated the VIPs at a funeral. I met people, made introductions. I witnessed the line of coffins, 534 filing by me with my meager offerings - my camera, my witness, this voice. I didn't brake, didn't cry. I had no right to cry, I have lost nothing. I finally broke over a video I saw on Youtube. It was recorded during the genocide; a father was yelling for his son to come down from hiding in the woods, screaming that it was safe while surrounded by Serb soldiers that would eventually add him to mass graves. Genocide had found Youtube, and I couldn't take it. If we can casually watch people being slaughtered and do nothing the next time, what kind of sick game is this? When taught about the Holocaust, why are we not also taught about the concentration camps in Argentina, the 677 in Bosnia? Where is the follow up on genocides in Rwanda, the killing fields of Cambodia or the one happening now in Darfur?

We need to stop saying "Never Again." Never Again has witnessed Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia, Algeria and Darfur. I think "Until Next Time" is more appropriate. Justice has not been served in Srebrenica. War criminals walk around the town, Bosnia, and even serve as President of Serbia. The day after the burial ceremony, Serb nationalists came into Srebrenica and yelled, "don't worry Europe, we can do it ... we will rid the Balkans of Muslims"

Please act to end the current genocide in Darfur. Start by signing the petition.

_________

This post was originally written after the Srebrenica funeral and memorial service. It was somehow deleted from my original post in July.

Intermission

2010-04-02T18:52:00.014-04:00

Behind Enemy Lines

2010-03-29T06:35:00.017-04:00

There seems to be a war of branding being fought over diamonds. The West has no problem parroting the "blood diamond" mantra while simultaneously fueling the demand for the stones, while African countries continue to supply them. Neither side is making systematic changes, both exploit the market: some pull an income from films such as Blood Diamond and offer alternative companies that carry "certified stones;" at the same times, African states are calming consumer's consciences and promising that "diamonds are for development." The film has exposed this issue to millions of people in an authentic way, but I think more can be done to provoke the status quo. Imagine if they put just a few resources at the end of the movie, such as an organization like War Child that works with former child soldiers, a union, or a transparent/ethical company!

With just the basics about blood diamonds and the Kimberly process, I went with my history class to tour the Kimberly mine in South Africa. I was masquerading as a tourist, but fully aware I was behind enemy lines. The mine has successfully transformed their brutal history into a modern tourist destination; it boasts a sleek building with shops, a movie theater and a platform to view the "Big Hole." Only in one underground corner display, did the panel echo the truth - it described the living conditions of the miners, the infamous hostels, as "concentration camps." The tour guide and museum completely sanitized the history of the mine, and are consequently rewriting history.

I used to trust the Kimberly Process. I placed confidence in the fact that stones were legally certified by meeting international criteria. However, after learning of the systemic oppression that literally forced the men to migrate in order to sell their labor, I will no longer admire or plan to ever purchase a stone. They are not directly funding a war, but they fuel a version of low intensity conflict.

At the end, I was only tempted to purchase a postcard in order to write home, "Greetings from the Empire!"

____________

I am currently traveling in rural Botswana with extremely limited internet access, so please check back for the pictures that belong to this post.

____________

The Big Hole

PR

"ambition, enterprise and vision"

Eye of the Storm

Infamous Board Room

From the museum itself, "when they came to the Diamond Fields, most were unaware that this time living conditions would resemble that of a concentration camp."

Chemical Classrooms

2010-03-06T07:32:00.018-05:00

Dear teacher:
I am a survivor of a concentration camp. My eyes saw what no person should witness: gas chambers built by learned engineers. Infants killed by trained nurses. Women and babies shot and burned by high school and college graduates. So, I am suspicious of education.

My request is:
Help your students to become human. Your efforts must never produce learned monsters, skilled psychopaths, educated Eichmanns. Reading, writing, and arithmetic are important only if they serve to make our children more human.

- Author unknown; in Haim Ginnot, Teacher and Child

How ironic it is that the ninth most Conservative university in the country has fostered my complete politicization. I left the manicured classrooms of my university so I could feel the truth. I am on the battleground of ideas: the slums, diamond mines, churches, NGOs, and homes of where pedagogy becomes reality. This type of experiential learning has weight, facts now have "heart and bones."

My classroom no longer allows neutrality. A recent visit to Durban, South Africa champions this experiential pedagogy. We spent one morning in February learning about ethics and environmental justice in a chemical classroom. South Durban is a product of the Group Areas Act, neighborhoods gerrymandered by the apartheid regime of South Africa. Indians/"coloureds" and blacks were legally moved to the dirtiest neighborhoods. Their homes, schools and streets are now saturated with deadly chemicals. The same chemicals countries in the North have not only outlawed, but made movies about, are leaked into the community. In the wake of the apartheid state, the Rainbow Nation must now fight environmental racism. The poor and oppressed are now left to resist the multinational corporations. Those with the least agency - the smallest amount of money, education and mobility - are only used for one thing, their labor. Their bodies are exploited. For example, if you live in south Durban, the risk of cancer is increased by 250%. As our virtual classroom followed the route of the "toxic tour," we learned that students in a school crammed between paper mills and chemical storage facilities suffer a 52% asthma rate!

After bearing witness to South Durban, it would be a crime to leave as simply more human. I hope we all follow the advice of Des, our guide, and "stand up and be counted."

Why learn in a vacuum when we don't live in one?

our "Toxic Tour" classroom

____

To offer your support to those fighting in Durban, start by using the resources available through the South Durban Community Environmental Alliance.

Petitions are available here, by issue

Rules of the Game

2010-02-20T10:27:00.006-05:00

If you are wondering, "didn't we already do this?" Yes - I did travel with my school in Latin America, thank you for reading my blog.

8 countries and 3 years of an undergraduate degree later, we have grown up....

Hola, from South Africa. Study abroad number 2.
I will not be faithfully sending an update email because they take forever to write and the audience participation declines when you receive 6 emails a semester from people who are all over seas and want to tell you about it. Well, I am abroad and still want to tell you about it, so here are my rules:

I will not write about finding myself.
I will not write about saving Africa.
I am well aware that Africa is not a country.
I do not want to move to Africa.

I will not be objective.
If you assume you can feel a pull to the left, it will in fact be a white American's interpretation from time spent in the margins, learning from the oppressed.
"I will explicitly be writing with one bias - a preferential option for the poor."
Finally, all of this writing will be done while NOT wearing a safari vest and in fierce loyalty to Latin America.

Arm Your Voice

2010-02-14T10:58:00.013-05:00

Banksy

"You're collapsible - you break down and build up fast."
Favorite compliment

"You're never here, never present."
Most common critique

After years exiled in suburbia, I went to college to leave - to play the system and consequently gain exposure to all that I could absorb. Eight countries and three years of an undergraduate degree later, here I am, writing from Southern Africa, compliments of Furman University. Why would I stay in Greenville, South Carolina when I could take the same class in Southern Africa?

I surrender to a state of carpe annum because it is the only way I can justify my education. It is how I convince myself not to leave it all behind and just start doing some form of tangible work - building a school, monitoring elections, coordinating logistics for a safe house. When my American passport can stop bullets and bombs I need an impressive reason to play with ideas.

I consciously choose to fight back by paying tuition to learn about poverty. Each year, class, and country makes me more dangerous, more informed. Surely it is a crime to consume knowledge and not take a side! We should all be branded radicals after exposure to an education from the margins. After learning from the oppressed, neutrality should no longer be a viable option; there should be a burden to provoke the status quo. Systemic oppression can only be maintained through ignorance, dependent on apathetic consumption. So, why not ask who is making our clothes or preparing our food?

Each textbook is a weapon. I feel more powerful with each new idea and speaker. I can feel the momentum building as we imagine a different, just world. I use my privilege to "arm my voice" with words, not weapons. I continue to stay in the tower of academia in honor my brothers and sisters disappeared from their classrooms for wanting a liberating pedagogy. In honor of them, I refuse to play ideological dress up. I will not put on and take off ideas as they become fashionable. If students living under repressive governments are dying for what they believe in, I will justify every opinion I proscribe.

_________

Textbooks used in-country are the following:
The Invisible Cure
Sickness and Wealth
Mandela's Children

In addition, we have a course reader with excerpts from books such as:
White Man's Burden
The Body Hunters: Testing New Drugs on the World's Poorest Patients

Haiti: Justice v. Compassion

2010-01-28T19:50:00.014-05:00

It was inevitable - Haiti has left the headlines. Today is the first day the New York Times has not echoed the fight for survival in Haiti. It seems the Apple Tablet is now more interesting. We are moving on. For those left in the wake, now is the time to differentiate between compassion and justice.
David Brooks was initially correct in his January 14^th New York Times article when he states, “this is not a natural disaster story. This is a poverty story.” However, Mr. Brooks then proceeded to construct a Eurocentric narrative effectively blaming Haitian society for allowing an earthquake devastate their island: “responsibility is often not internalized. Child-rearing practices often involve neglect [. . .] some cultures are more progress-resistant than others, and a horrible tragedy was just exacerbated by one of them.” Labeling a country such as this a perpetuation in paternalistic compassion – feeling sorry for Haiti because they are not as enlightened as their Western, white neighbors. But, Haiti continues to fight back by issuing a call for justice, not simplified compassion.

The earthquake has catalyzed a critical discussion on international aid effectiveness in a country plagued by structural oppression. The disaster is not as natural as the news sound bites would have us think. Earthquakes of the same scale have hit places such as California and Japan, and these areas have successfully bounced back. We can give Haiti a chance to become a San Francisco or Tokyo by calling for systemic change. Please start fighting for justice by signing the petition to cancel Haiti's debt and rebuild with grants, not interests tainted with loans.

Even in the wake of the disaster, tourism continues to turn a profit from Haiti. Cruise ships such as the one from Royal Caribbean dock on protected Haitian beaches. The fact that armed soldiers are stationed to defend vacationers from starving, desperate survivors should be an indication of compromised ethics! Even with some passenger refusing to disembark, the company continues to parade their floating cities around the beaches, turning the Haitian fight for survival into another market, “poorism.”

The best advice on an appropriate response to Haiti comes from Alanna Shaika in Nobody Wants Your Old Shoes: How Not to Help in Haiti. She outlines suggestions such as: do not go to Haiti and use vital resources needed by the local people and do not give old, expired or worthless goods blocking the importation of needed medicines and supplies. In addition, a favorite organization that has been consistently recommended is Partners in Health, the organization co-founded by the infamous Dr. Paul Farmer. Another effective aid organization is charity:water who gives 100% of public donations to water projects. Lastly, it is important that a cycle of dependence is not perpetuated. Now is the time to employ local Haitian talent to rebuild their beautiful country. As the hype fades and human-interest pieces echo less miraculous stories, the international community must remain in solidarity with the Haitian people. We have shown our support with the overflow of donations, now we must sustain it.

_____________________

The best advice on Haiti has come from Alanna Shaikh in
Nobody Wants Your Old Shoes: How Not to Help Haiti

Recommended Organizations: Partners in Health (co-founded by the infamous Paul Farmer)
charity:water (100% of the proceeds used)
"Find a charity you can trust" Charity Navigator
Or text Haiti to 90999 for a $10 donation to the Red Cross

As it starts to become increasingly difficult to find news on Haiti, blogs seem to be a strong alternative.
Tales From the Hood is currently on the ground and reporting back as a veteran aid worker.

A version of this post was originally written for the Furman newspaper, The Paladin in February, 2010

McToursim

2010-01-06T23:20:00.015-05:00

tour⋅ist

–noun

	a person who is traveling, esp. for pleasure.

After 34 hours - 26 in a plane, 1 transnational & 2 international flights - I am writing from Australia as an official tourist. I am embracing this label like never before. I needed a break.

After my exams, I had to move out of the cabin and was turning in my key and talking to the RA on duty. We were discussing his trip to S. Africa over the summer and my coming one. I asked if the trip influenced him in wanting to work in Africa and he said he thought about international business. My reflex answer was "ethically?" I later apologized for my cynicism and introduced myself. My Christmas holiday started at that exact moment.

I decided to take my vacation to reflect on my experiences with tourism. How would it compare to Bosnia? Australia has the tourist model down, but the constant theme of consumerism is frustrating. (I have 28 minutes of my computer battery and only half a latte before McDonald's kicks me off their "free wifi.") Theme of the trip: first world tourism requires not only consumerism, but corporate materialism. Four weeks in and six left in the Balkans, considering myself and a veteran of guided tours, I chose to take the mature route. I started taking photos of other travelers. This game has since jumped the border and started down under.

The Winners from the Balkans:

The Classic

Best Dressed

camera + tripod carrier

Touring War

At least my brother tried to blend in

My family as tourists

My favorite: combat boots + matching outfit + backpack with 3 locks!
(He was a professional)

From Australia:

I wish I had some profound conclusion on tourism other than I support it. After all, I am destined to be a chronic one. I spent three months in the Balkans confused while I played both tourist and sojourner. I came to realize that war is now for sale in Bosnia and wondered if sustainable tourism is truly possible. They have turned the disgusting conflict into a new market. If people are willing to buy pieces of the war, at least they will have a souvenir that provokes. If a trip is collapsed into a quest for the ultimate purchase or coolest photo for that year's Christmas card, then why leave home? Where is the line between poorism/"hug-an- orphan-vacations" and informed pilgrim? If people visit a slum as a poorist, it should catalyze critical questions around systemic poverty, structural oppression, etc. I think we start by looking for the fight/struggle of that country. There is always a pulse below the surface.

Advent Conspiracy

2009-12-26T04:39:00.000-05:00

6.14

2009-12-15T06:13:00.000-05:00

3 papers on social movements
1 political thought exam on justice

still a big fan of my liberal arts education

Your Mom

2009-11-26T00:42:00.000-05:00

Finally.

An appropriate, politically-correct conversation starter for family holidays.

Instead of starting with a bang and opening the family meal with Rebecca Todd Peter's

Prayer of Confession, we can skip ahead.

Over the turkey, we no longer need provocative stats like, "did you know the average

American cat eats more protein than a child in a third-world country?"

Instead, we can suggest a family road trip to see The Blind Side.

It is a catalyst to future discussions on inequality, personal responsibility, and social justice because this could be

your mom.

My Inspiration Ran Away From Home

2009-10-24T22:29:00.003-04:00

They asked me again. Last Thursday. Tonight.

Where do you get your motivation?

I tell them of my loyalty to your beautiful country; how it under my skin.

I tell them of the hate. The anger that drives this obsession. This blinding reaction against poverty and oppression.

I tell them of our introduction. I explain the label of orphan is a luxury. That reality is abuse and neglect.

But, I leave you out of my narrative. I cannot risk you.

To them you are a stat, a character, a commercial.

What do I say now? My inspiration ran away?

If that question had been asked before October 21, I could tell them my standard story. I would skip the anger, give them the 6 years of my life they want to hear.

I dare not say go home, home to prostitution and abuse.

I would never say go back, back to working the fields.

¿A donde vas? the streets?

Do I come home? Do I look for you again?

This is it Alex, this is real life.

You are my home, and I yours.
You are my tribe. We are a people of two.

Dancing in a Revolution

2009-09-15T16:27:00.000-04:00

If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution

Emma Goldman

We've covered the dancing!

Please join us November 20-22 at the School of the Americas Vigil

solidarity. nonviolent direct action. change.

Not Saving Africa to Find Myself

2009-08-29T00:57:00.003-04:00

"He remembered the Latin words he had once seen on a sixteenth- century map to mark the limit of Western exploration of Africa,
Scientia hic finit.

Knowledge stops here.
How arrogant we were, he thought. How arrogant we remain."
Donna Leon

Please continue following my blog, as I head to South Africa, Namibia, and Botswana in January.
I am not going to find myself.
I am not going to save Africa.
And, I will never buy a safari vest.
I am looking for the t/Truth.

Fe y Paz, إن شاء الله

In solidarity,
Ali

Attention September Babies

2009-08-26T21:00:00.000-04:00

Attention September Babies, charity:water is here

Allow me to introduce an organization that gives 100% of the proceeds to the cause

Creative Destruction

2009-08-11T06:29:00.000-04:00

"One wonders what would happen if good-hearted Americans realized that a mere 10% of the US military budget, if reinvested in foreign aid and development, could care for the basic needs of the entire world's poor. Or if they realized that one-half of 1% of the US military budget would cut hunger in Africa in half by 2015. Would there be marches in the streets calling for budgetary reform?"
Everything Must Change, Brian D. McLaren

We now have the ability to kill without ever being in the country. Why go to Afghanistan if you can kill combatants and still make it home for dinner?

I sat watching the CNN report of the first kill by the US Army's drone from Mostar, the most heavily bombed city of Bosnia and Herzegovina. I was stunned, just as I was beginning to grasp the full implications of war, I was introduced to a new version. Luckily, I was refreshed after spending the evening with Youth Bridge Global, an NGO using applied drama as a tool of peace and reconciliation. Their first year they barely performed Romeo and Juliet in a city now fragmented by the war, leaving Bosniaks and Croatians divided. Averil, Alex, and I walked to see their stage, a courtyard of the bombed out library. We found a concert instead, a witness to Bosnians claiming their space and using their voices in a world that can now kill with a video game.

It is critical that I am touching the remains of war the first time in Bosnia and Herzegovina. It has become casual, normal even, to walk by phosphorous bombed buildings, shell markings, to meet concentration camp survivors, watch (free) war criminals and mass grave findings on the nightly news or talk on a cell phone next to a graveyard. But, it is also here, that the passion of the people washes over me, cleansing me of this violence.

The spirit of resistance has manifested itself in the form of passionate nonviolence, the arts. The Sarajevo film festival started during the war to salvage civil society, and has now grown to become one of the largest in Europe. The Miss Sarajevo beauty contest was held during the peak of fighting; U2 would later sing about this beautiful act of courage. The war Theater in Sarajevo continued to perform, famously debuting Hair in the city under siege. Education never collapsed because they were sustained by the brave teachers that would walk among snipers and shells to hold class in basements. The newspaper Oslobeđenje (Freedom) never missed a single day of print. A 700-yard tunnel was hand dug right under the UN controlled airport, past their inability to do anything but hand out old food, and into the"valley prison" (Clancy). A lifeline was then established to transport food, ammunition and supplies. Finally, Vedran Smailović , caught the worlds attention as the Cellist of Sarajevo, playing Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor for 22 days; dressed in his tuxedo, he played each day to honor the 22 victims killed while in line for bread. "He played for human dignity that is the first causality in war. Ultimately, he played for life, for peace, and for the possibility that exists even in the darkest hour. Asked by a journalist whether he was not crazy doing what he was doing, Smailović replied: 'You ask me am I crazy for playing the cello, why do you not ask if they are not crazy for shelling Sarajevo?'" (Swati Chopra)

CNN reports that war has been revolutionized, that warfare will never be the same. Indeed, I fear what we are capable of now. Never to set foot on the ground of the people we destroy anonymously. We now live in a world that can mobilize 1 billion dollars a week for war, but fails to find 5 billion for children's health care. In this context, we rely on unmanned aerial vehicles, no longer dependent on killing with our hands. We will not feel a pulse stop or the weight of life leave the body. We will no longer see the people left behind, the ones "born into blood and fire" (Galeano) picking up their lives and choosing to fight with words, not weapons.

Patriotic Virginity

2009-07-04T15:40:00.001-04:00

"My country can boast that we produce 53.4% of the world's weapons ... perhaps (Americans) believe that McNamara was more rational than President Jimmy Carter, who in 1976 said, 'We cannot have it both ways. We can't be both the world's leading champion for peace and the world's leading supplier of arms.' It gets worse. In 2003, 80% of the top buyers of US weapons (twenty of the top twenty-five clients) were countries that our State Department labeled undemocratic or countries known for their failure to uphold human rights, such as Egypt and Saudi Arabia. In 1999, the US weapons industry supplied arms to 92% of the conflicts in process anywhere on the planet, and in a stroke of elegant fairness, often supplied both sides in conflict. Perhaps most shocking and awful of all: between 1998 and 2001, the United States, Great Britain, and France earned more income from selling weapons to developing countries than they gave those developing countries in aid."
John Perkins in Justice For All

I lost my patriotic virginity two years ago when I first visited El Salvador. My age of innocence was forever gone, left on the Holy Grounds of El Mozote and the UCA. I swore loyal opposition to any unjust policy of my country. After studying for two months in Latin America, I understood the legacy of the Cold War; that in reality, it was a hot conflict that burned its way through Latin America, exposing the connections between human rights perpetrators and the United States government. I was disgusted by our hypocritical human rights abuses and shocked when I discovered the chronic mistakes of our foreign policy. We waged war to impose peace. Few know that President Reagan broke international and federal law by continuing to fund the Contras after the House of Representatives voted unanimously 411-0 to stop aid. A pattern emerged of US involvement: the torture case of the American nun, Diana Ortiz, the Atlactal Battalion, the paramilitary death squads trained on US soil, and coups supported and sometimes orchestrated by the US.

I feel like I have cheated in my political activism; just as I was learning of the grave mistakes of the United States, Change took his place in the White House. I only had time to be horrified, write a few research papers on torture policy, and then feel profound relief and hope when Obama was elected. I came to Sarajevo prepared to showcase my mature understanding of the real United States. I knew why the world hates us, I can even give you statistics. I was ready for Srebrenica because I had been to a massacre sites before. I knew what to look for and who to ask questions about. We continue to echo "Never Again" from the end of the Holocaust to the start of another genocide in Darfur; we watched as Rwanda unfolded and waited to act in Bosnia, but we finally sent help and brought a swift end to the war. For that, I was surprised and humbled when I arrived because the United States is a positive force in the Balkans.

My ignorant bliss will never return, it ran away somewhere between El Salvador and Guatemala, but it seems pride for my country may finally start to rebuild itself. I am slowly picking up the pieces. I love and respect my country, more now as an outsider. By living in the Balkans, I am again able to recognize the diversity and freedom in my country.

The fence at the School of the Americas/WHINSEC - Each cross represents a victim

El Salvador: A Crucified People
The Stations of the Cross in the chapel of the UCA
Each station depicts just one of the 75, 000 Salvadorans who were tortured and killed by the paramilitary death squads

The shirt Archbishop Oscar Romero was wearing when he was shot during Mass for his
belief in a "preferential option for the poor"

"Presente"
Sara Walker and I standing in solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Latin America.
We were two of 20, 000 at the gates of Fort Benning on November 21, 2008.

"One wonders what would happen if good-hearted Americans realized that a mere 10% of the US military budget, if reinvested in foreign aid and development, could care for the basic needs of the entire world's poor. Or if they realized that one-half of 1% of the US military budget would cut hunger in Africa in half by 2015. Would there be marches in the streets calling for budgetary reform?"
Everything Must Change by Brian D. McLaren

Beautiful War Zone

2009-06-29T08:31:00.000-04:00

If I had to pick a place for war, it would be Bosnia and Herzegovina. It is the most beautiful war zone. The mountains used for the Olympics a mere 8 years before the war then provided shelter for the attacking Serb Army. The stage was set for the perfect crime.

Take the mountains of Colorado and put them on crack - nature spills everywhere, dripping into towns and cities, daring the people to fight back as they circle the city. Tito's communist legacy is echoed by ugly apartment buildings - gray concrete racing to the sky. Every 6 feet add a Mosque, every 16 add a Church. Split the remaining space between houses and parks. Buildings switch between Turkish, Austro-Hungarian and skeletons left by the War. Finally, sprinkle in awkward hyper modern structures. You are here.
Welcome to Sarajevo.

Flirting with Post Conflict/War Zones

2009-06-21T07:17:00.001-04:00

"There is definitely a threat and danger of land mines in BiH, but it does not mean that you cannot step off the asphalt" Travel Guide

I seem to be flirting with post-conflict/war zones: El Salvador, Nicaragua, Guatemala, Northern Ireland and Bosnia and Herzegovina. I'd even be as bold to say that my nine country/eleven month time frame could identify as an affair. For some reason, I am fascinated by violence and all that it encompasses. It is as if I am trying to educate myself on everything suburbia effectively sheltered me from. It is addicting because this line can be drawn to encompass everything from faith to politics. They constantly play off one another. What does God have to say about the nun who was tortured in Guatemala? Am I "blessed" by living in a gated community and the family sleeping outside damned to hell because they are "stupid and lazy"; what sins did the poor commit? Why are human rights activists being assassinated? Why was sex trafficking catalyzed during the war in BiH by the very soldiers and peacekeepers here to protect the people?Why is impunity given to internationals so that they march through as untouchables? And why did this "protection" allow the fourth largest European army to turn on itself and carry out the longest siege (1400 days) of Sarajevo since Stalingrad?

From January 2003 to June 2009 all I could do was talk, read, watch, and question. Now I am here to work. I am proud of the legitimacy I have attained and still stunned that I have been given permission to ask questions. I will be working and living abroad for 10 weeks in Bosnia and Herzegovina in three different cities, the capital Sarajevo, Mostar, and Srebrenica (the site of the worst massacre since WWII). It is a research fellowship but basically translates into an internship researching international aid effectiveness. I am working for the organization Beyond Good Intentions focusing on the specifics of human rights, legal aid, and psychosocial effects of returnees and refugees. Day to day, I will spend half my time with organizations, learning the logistics, and the other half with the recipients of aid. My research will provide the background information for the first film-based case studies on international aid by profiling different organizations for case studies. These case studies will be filmed between September 2009 and July 2010 and will be available in university classrooms starting in the fall of 2010.

As I was told this week, welcome to the "circus."

What is this? Meetings and fair trade coffee?

2009-04-22T01:38:00.000-04:00

How far are we really willing to take this? Can social justice be reduced down to club meetings and buying fair trade coffee when it's convenient? If we really believe God demands justice and action, our lives would look provocatively different. Luckily, we have a few years to figure out exactly where our place is.

I don't have the answers. I just want to be with people asking the right questions. All I can do is forward information out, this was sent to me from a friend.

This movie is the story of one man and his fight for justice in Haiti.

Death threats and all.

The Price of Sugar

"I always try to make sure what I am doing is right. Because that's my only protection"
"These are my people. Whatever happens to them I would like it to happen to me"

We Wish to Inform You, MOLDOVA is burning.

2009-04-08T01:44:00.001-04:00

The protest in Moldova is distracting me from my exam in world politics tomorrow. How can I study about the parliamentary system of democracy while history is being made?

The Parliament of Moldova is burning and the Presidential Palace is being destroyed. After a communist president was elected in fraudulent and corrupt elections, students all over the country have risen up.

My roommate, Ruxy Cantir (junior at Furman) lives in Moldova. The Furman community has rare opportunity to learn exactly what is going on and why the reaction is so violent. Communism is not a romantic ideal. This is not a political game. Ruxy's friends and family are in the middle of all this, her family lives in the center of downtown.

Please stay informed. This is all over the internet: check out Youtube, the New York Times (Protests in Moldova Explode, With Help of Twitter ), BBC, etc.
If you would like to show your support for Ruxy and Moldova, please wear a ribbon with the colors of the Moldovan/Romanian flag. (please see Ruxy; they will be handed out at the FUISA fashion show and the Burma CLP tomorrow). Also, feel free to email Ruxy to show your support.

In solidarity-

P.S. This is not Reality

2009-04-02T17:41:00.001-04:00

Many people have heard Dr. Gandolfo, others, and myself quote the statistic of the thousands of people that die every day from preventable diseases, mainly deaths related to water. Every day, a minimum of 26, 000 kids die a day. There is no way to comprehend the number. Think, 4 thousand died on Sept 11. Angel, who is living in El Salvador, experienced this tragedy first hand. It just reminds me that our comfortable lifestyle is not reality for the rest of the world.

http://angelitaensalvador.blogspot.com/

What hurts the most is to think of how he died. He died from kidney failure, which from what I have heard is quite painful and slow. The doctors prescribed him medication to clean his kidneys, but it cost around $50/week. I doubt he made much more than $100/month, making it impossible to pay for the medication that may have saved his life. Friends have also told me that he is the 3rd or 4th in the community to die of kidney failure in the past few years. We are starting to wonder if the water is contaminated? But even if it is, there are few resources available to clean it up...
Close to two-thirds of the world's population lives without access to clean water. Before coming to live in El Salvador, I had no idea of what that truly meant.

The tradition here when someone dies is to do 9 days of prayers, with the 9th day being the biggest and almost a celebration. I went to the 9th day of prayers for Francisco, where I also had to bring some more bad news to the community. My close friend, Beatrice, who is the new youth coordinator, had applied for a scholarship from FUNDAHMER to help pay for her to go to college. She had been calling me every few days for the last month asking about the scholarship. Few (if any) kids from Las Mesas have gone on to college, and Beatrice's desire to study impressed and motivated me. But I know that in reality it is economically impossible for her to go to college without a lot of outside help. I want so badly for her to be able to study, but I had to tell her that night, at the funeral, that there were no funds for her scholarship. It almost brought me to tears when she told me (after the news) that she was going to apply for a job at a nearby factory - a factory that we would call a sweatshop.

Where Are The People?

2009-03-25T01:10:00.000-04:00

Role of the Church

2009-03-21T22:12:00.000-04:00

Excerpt from M. Lunn’s 1,500 Inspirational Quotes and Illustrations:

“I was hungry…and you formed a humanities club and you discussed my hunger. Thank you.

I was imprisoned…and you crept off quietly to your chapel in the cellar to pray for my release.

I was naked…and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance.

I was sick…and you knelt and thanked God for your health.

I was homeless…and you preached to me of the spiritual shelter of the love of God.

I was lonely…and you left me alone to pray for me.

You seem so holy, so close to God. But I’m still very hungry…and lonely…and cold.”

¡Se Hice Puro!

2009-03-17T22:48:00.000-04:00

The FMLN won the presidential election in El Savlador on Sunday. This was a historic event, the first time the left has won since the Civil War ended. The main political parties, ARENA and the FMLN, have roots in the war. The right wing military is notorious for the death squads and the guerrillas resistance fighters, are the parents of ARENA and FMLN.

This is an historic event; not only for the 75,000 people that were murdered, but because the US could not scare the Salvadorean people. True to form, the United States became involved in another democratic, international election. The US threatened remittances and immigrants living in the United States if the FMLN won. Groups such as CISPES called for public American neutrality.

For in depth, independent coverage, the BBC, and Upside Down World are the best.
We celebrate this clean victory! ¡Se Hice Puro!

Justice in Public

2009-03-10T22:46:00.000-04:00

" Justice is what love looks like in public"
Cornel West

Call + Response

2009-03-10T22:14:00.000-04:00

"Justice is what LOVE looks like in PUBLIC" Cornel West

Machuca

Machuca is the best film I have ever seen. I want to make it a pre-requisite for any future friends I might have. If people see this film, they can understand six years of my life, and the next sixty.

{Eden Is West}

Call and Response

Hear the Movement. See the Movement. Be the Movement. Call + Response.

Artists choose to respond to the sex trade. They raise their voices in a response to the call of injustice. Cornel West. Cold War Kids. Emmanuel Jal. Imogen Heap. Ashley Judd. Five for Fighting. Nicholas Kristof. Switchfoot.

"You start fighting for justice even though you started playing the guitar" Cornel West

"Prophets on the Sidewalk" Dennen

2009-03-03T22:47:00.000-05:00

It is much more comfortable to depersonalize the poor so we don’t feel responsible for the catastrophic human failure that results in someone sleeping on the street while people have spare bedrooms in their homes. We can volunteer in a social program or distribute excess food and clothing through organizations and never have to open up our homes, our beds, our dinner tables. When we get to heaven, we will be separated into those sheep and goats Jesus talks about in Matthew 25 based on how we cared for the least among us. I’m just not convinced that Jesus is going to say, “When I was hungry, you gave a check to the United Way and they fed me,” or, “When I was naked, you donated clothes to the Salvation Army and they clothed me.” Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love: “you fed me . . . you visited me in prison . . . you welcomed me into your home . . . you clothed me.
- The Irresistible Revolution, Shane Claiborne

Better World Shopper and charity: water

2009-01-17T13:19:00.001-05:00

Better World Shopper is the best guide to ethical living I have ever found. With five years of research and product categories it rates products on: human rights, animal protection, social justice, community involvement, and the environment. It only costs $5 to

download to your computer; you can then put it into your iPhoto and import into your photos on your iPod. Then a great resource is available on your phoneor iPod each time you

shop.

Another website I want to highlight is charity: water. It is a great

idea for an alternative gift (Christmas, birthday, graduation).

I chose this organization because of the cause and the effect. They

give 100% of the proceeds to providing clean water access to people who desperately need it. $20 dollars provides clean water access for one person, for twenty years! This is imperative because

more people die every day from water related diseases than anything

else!

Hello Beautiful

2008-10-17T00:54:00.001-04:00

I fell in love with politics this week. Granted, it took a divine sequence of events, in the only successful revolutionary Central American country, but it has convinced me that law is the answer. (I was questioning law; I want to practice human rights law, but would prefer to skip the American Law-school experience)

In the last four days, The Center for Global Education has allowed my Furman study abroad group the opportunities to: visit a factory in a Free Trade Zone (maquila, or ¨sweat shop¨), meet the most famous female guerrilla at the UCA, Dora Maria Tellez, meet a Contra Leader, the PLC, stay in a Sandinista neighborhood for three days that suffered a massacre under the Somoza dictatorship, visit La Chureca, the Managua Trash Dump where people live and work, and then have the privilege to meet with Fernando Cardenal, a priest who was involved in the revolution and directed the National Literacy Campaign (reduced illiteracy from 51% to 17%). When then came back to the hotel and CGE neighborhood, which has been militarized because we happen to share it with the President, Daniel Ortega. In effect, we are reading and witnessing politics constantly. On Saturday, a critical journalist´s office in Nicaragua was illegally searched and documents and computers stolen. To quote the Contra leader, ¨this kid doesn´t know what to do with power.¨ Ortega, the President, is so fearful of US intervention, he and his party have corrupted a true revolution. To prove the US involvement, besides training death squads in Georgia on methods of torture, Nicaragua won 18 billion dollars against the US in an World Court Case.

Context! I am doing my homework or having philosophy class in either a militarized neighborhood or Sandinista neighborhood, and then leaving daily for meetings with key historical leaders.

This leaves me addicted. Addicted to experiential learning. To read about the revolution, the politcal parties, but then meet these people face-to-face. I literally read about both Dora Maria Tellez and Fernando Cardinal and was sitting with them two days later. In Mexico, we studied the effects of NAFTA and then walked in the corn field of farmers fighting NAFTA. As if that was not enough, we got to hear from the Union of Farm Workers, who were very honest. Saying that the chemicals in their food were making them sick. And, that they exported their corn to have it taken to the border, labeled, and then imported back to be sold to the same Mexican people who produced it. In effect, this is true. Thanks to the trade agreement between Candada, the US, and Mexico (NAFTA) all three countries are competing at the same level. This is ridiculous given the production power of the US compared to Mexico. Especially if the US corn is being subsidized by 50% and all labor is mechanized.

Fernando Cardenal said tonight that ¨politics is the most effective exercise of charity.¨ I am choosing to believe this and thus structure my career around this belief. It is clear structural change is needed, that neutrality only helps the oppressor. A time comes when the ¨band-aid can no longer cover a bullet hole¨and a differentiation must be made between justice and compassion. Compassion is handing out food, but justice is "asking why the poor have no food" (Camara). Even with the threat of being called a communist.

Soft Lit

2008-10-07T15:41:00.001-04:00

I realized today that I have to stop kidding myself that the New York Times suffices for a person trying desperately not to become a member of the status quo. Beyond human rights, we have to think about who makes our clothes and how our food is prepared. If the migrant worker is being paid a fair wage or protected against pesticides, but also did he flee his country because of a war we helped to fund with blood money?
The catalyst to this realization was the quality literature I just encountered in the Center for Global Education house in Managua (on the corner is Daniel Ortega’s house, the president who is part of the FSLN, the party of the revolution and the only revolution to succeed in Central America).

Drawing from their extensive library of CIA and other government declassified documents, movies, documentaries, books, magazines and newspapers. Here are some suggestions:

Of course, start with the New York Times and work from there.
If you want to buy any books, please use Betterworld.com. ¨Better World Books collects and sells books online to fund literacy initiatives worldwide. With more than two million new and used titles in stock, we’re a self-sustaining, triple-bottom-line company that creates social, economic and environmental value for all our stakeholders. It funds third worl d literacy, is environmentally safe, and has free shipping for new and used books. It is the ideal Amazon.

The Guardian Weekly newspaper ¨gives a global view on the week's international events by combining comment and analysis from the daily Guardian newspaper with features from the Observer, the Washington Post and Le Monde. It is read in over 100 countries around the world by an interesting and diverse group of people. The blue section of the site features articles written or commissioned by our site editor, as well as Guardian foreign correspondents and Guardian Weekly subscribers around the world. All articles are linked by the common theme of reporting the experiences of individual people. If you yourself know of an experience worthy of inclusion, you can submit an article to the site editor for consideration.¨

Finally, The New Internationalist is an independent magazine that is ¨the people, the ideas, the action in the fight for global justice. the New Internationalist is renowned for its radical, campaigning stance on a range of world issues, from the cynical marketing of baby milk in the Majority World to human rights in Burma. ¨

I have to go now. I have 31 minutes before our tour of Managua, and have to read the Human Rights issue of The NI and ¨From the Maquila to the Mall.¨

Trash Dump ... Happy Birthday

2008-10-06T19:43:00.000-04:00

Before breakfast I received a package from friends at Furman. Before lunch we were in the Guatemala City trash dump. Before dinner we visited the office of the Detained and Disappeared. I changed my major to Urban Studies in the van ride leaving the dump. At dinner, we discussed a trip to Moldova and Eastern Europe. This was my perfect twentieth birthday.

We met with a state run organization for children who live in the trash dump, kids riding on their last chance. The school is run for kids who have been kicked out of school - their last shot out of poverty. Who knew behavioral problems would arise while living and working in trash? I couldn’t help compare the Guatemalan dump to the Nicaraguan one - it was organized. The trash was in neat piles and the trucks drove down legit roads. Managua’s dump can only be described as hell on earth. Trash everywhere - neat boundaries are non existent.

FAMDEGUA is an organization for the relatives of the detained and disappeared. They work to find missing relatives, to uncover human rights abuses, like some of the 626 massacres of Mayan villages, and continue to fight for human rights. The day before we arrived a man watched their office all day. They workers have been kidnapped and some killed. Yet, they continue to fight.

I keep wondering why my perfect childhood even allows me to click with this side of life. The messy, dirty part of the third world. When the foreigners have their pictures of dirty kids with swollen bellies, when the food has been given out, and the clothes are being worn, I want to stay.

I desperately needed an intellectual connection to the third world, and I finally have it. The Center for Global Education maintains an experiential learning technique. I asked why the teachers were protesting in Cuernavaca, and I was told to ask them, they would take me. I can give stories of kids living in dirt floor shacks, but I really want to give you an intellectual framework. Those stories are private, not to be used to raise money or garner sympathy.
Why prostitution is used. Why people choose to live in a trash dump. Why the kids sniff glue.

Let me explain. Analyze. Echo their voice, not speak for them. I take these ideas seriously, with extreme sensitivity. The university students kidnapped were not trying to be cool by quoting Che, the lived and died for what they believed. The priests believed the kingdom was now, not to come.

Even the Graffiti Protests

2008-10-06T19:26:00.001-04:00

In a country saturated with thirty six years of violence, even the graffiti protests. It yells back at the people, what about the three thousand woman that have been murdered in the last few years, completely separate from the war? Forget just warfare, this is messy, grey. Death squads and paramilitary groups killed and tortured 200,000 people, the majority being a-political. Killed in the most brutal violent way - sledge hammers to the head, fetuses cut out of swollen bellies, burning people alive.

Surprise, Surprise. The United States funded the military which committed 97% of these massacres and killings, to fight communism. Congress realized they were committing human rights abuses in a third Central American country, and cut funding, but Reagan wanted to continue. He called Montt, a man of ¨great personal integrity,” a day before another peasant massacre. Funding started up again shortly after. Rigoberta Menchu, presidential candidate and Indigenous rights defender, explains, ¨these people were not communist, they were hungry.¨ How could illiterate peasants even know who Karl Marx was?

This is the country I was introduced to. The civil war is over, but violence is tangible. Fifteen people are killed a day.

I am writing this from my comfort zone, Managua, but I can’t let go. There is a very real chance I could work in Guatemala City, they are killing street children to ¨clean it up.¨ This is also being done in Brazil, countries in Africa, and Russia. I could combine my eventual legal skills with my passion for human rights in the global south.

Someone asked me if I do this as a way to serve others. That is a nice effect. But, to be honest, I do this out of self preservation. I learned early on that I would get bored with the Volvo and three kids.

Fleas and Chains

2008-09-22T22:58:00.000-04:00

I have officially made my first hospital run in Mexico. It was not for me, I just was going to help. Out of 17 people, only 3 have not gotten sick. Two have been hospitalized with bacterial infections, one stayed over night. Others have felt bad and had to stay back some days. Then, some of the ones who could walk then got fleas, yes fleas.

Our quiz on agriculture and presentations got moved. So, I will be taking my second biology quiz in an airport or on a plane.

I have learned a lot today, I desperately need to improve my vocabulary sets in spanish. I couldn´t understand when my homestay mother was talking about¨chaining herself to a tree¨ (for a protest of course, let me remind you, she is 72) or instructions for medicine today. We never learned ¨chained¨ in spanish 21.

341 / 30,000 Political Aslyum

2008-09-21T21:59:00.000-04:00

¨La tierra es de quien la trabaja¨ Emiliana Zapata

I spent the weekend in the community of Amatlan, with indigenous people that can trace their history back four thousand years. We did a home stay , so everyone divided into groups based on Spanish and desired intensity level (running water, etc). I was with Becca and Anne and we had no running water. In fact, we never saw water for anything. It was like camping, only with the strongest 72 year old woman I have ever met/secretly hope to be.

She is a single woman who knows what she believes in. We had a lot of different questions for her because Anne spent time in Africa by herself and Becca traveled/lived in South America. Anne asked about the Zapatistas, a now un-armed revolutionary movement currently being fought in Southern Mexico- more on this later - and she told us her opinion and how she protests. She chained herself to a tree once with other woman to protest a development. They also successfully fought off a golf course development with other communities because it would destroy the ecosystem and aquifer - water is life here.

Amatlan has a messy history of resistance. The community is in the base of a mountain chain like nothing I have ever seen before, I can only describe it as cliffs that form mountains. This community believes that everything has a soul, especially the mountains. So, you have to ask permission to take a picture and be aware of how many you take, and what you will use it for, such as deleting them. You are taking a pìece of that object each time you snap the lens.

During the revolution and the civil war, guerrillas used the mountains to hide in and fight from. We hiked Saturday morning, and were shown all the medicinal plants (the town is famous for them) and told how Amatlan has felt the affects of the revolution. They took back their land during the revolution, because it was stolen from them. Not only that, it was land that had been in their family for four thousand years! Their land is literally their life, it supplies food and water for them, without it they starve.

We ate our meals with the family, had biology class, and visited a medicinal clinic, the fertility stone, and a farmers union this weekend.

I personally enjoyed hearing how immigration, out-migration, has affected even this small indigenous community. Clemente, a guide on the tour, told us how he worked a year in Arizona. Yes, illegally.

I believe we cannot have an open border, we cannot let just anyone in, we need to try and stop the drugs and crime. But, allow me to give you some things to think about.

From 1980 to 1986, only 341 applicants out of THIRTY THOUSAND have gotten political asylum. And these people were seeking political asylum, not economic relief, because during this time they were fleeing wars fueled with blood money. Not a cut and dry war, but messy ones that blurred the lines between the military and civilians. One that left death squads to decide who was who.

I find it ironic that these people come here seeking basic human rights, life. Away from death squads, a violence that is saturating even the smallest of communitites. Completing a sick cycle - we help to push them out of their homes, and then fight back when the come to us seeking life.
Even the human rights workers are threatened, no one is safe: ¨while I was typing this testimony, an explosion went off in front of the building. One side of the office collapsed and several persons were wounded. I was frightened, confused, and hardly able to speak. There was rubble everywhere. Three unidentified dead bodies, covered with acid, had been thrown on top of the rubble. One top of the bodies, a note signed by the death squad stated, ¨this is going to happen to you all.¨That day I had to decide whether I was going to continue working in that office or not.¨Pedro, page 8 of Sanctuary: The New Underground Railroad

So, I was able to learn about why people like Clemente leave and then left to think about how we treat them. Americans think they are dirty and stupid, but of course not lazy, because we see how many of the jobs they do for us. I wonder how many stories we leave untold by simply reducing these people down to a simple quest for money. It is so much more. Who knew that the worker in Arizona was an indigenous Mexican, who can heal with medicinal treatments, that have been handed down for thousands of years. When did we allow his wetback to blind us from his life, his struggle?

¨La tierra es de quien la trabaja/ the land belongs to those who work it¨Emiliano Zapata

Dear Skeptics

2008-09-19T14:29:00.001-04:00

Dear skeptics, here is the data and formulas we used for the Market Basket Survey:

1. Item purchased and price
2. Price in pesos (MN$)
3. Price in US dollars
- price of pesos divided by MN 10.11 (approximate average current exchange rate) = USD $
4. Time cost, number of hours needed to work
- MN $ divided by MN$ 5.5 (hourly wage of minimum wage worker who earns MN$ 49.5/day) = hours
5. US cost equivilant
- hours worked mulitplied by USD $ 6.55 (US min. wage) = USD

Our conlcusions:

1 kilo oranges = 5 pesos/ .49 US cents/ .9 hours / $ 5.89 US equivilant
Deoderant = 25 pesos/ 2.47 USD / 4.5 hours work/ $29.50 US equivilant in dollars

12 Dollar Tortillas

2008-09-18T21:32:00.001-04:00

Furman is traveling with the Center for Global Education at Augsburg College and our professors.

The mission of CGE is to provide cross-cultural educational opportunities in order to foster critical evaluation of local and global conditions so that personal, organizational and systematic chance takes place leading to a more just and sustainable world. Through a liberating and transformative experiential education individuals are encouraged to live as active agents in history, and hence, foster social transformation rather than the maintenance of the status quo.

One of the exercises they had us do was Market Basket Survey to give us a genuine look at life in the Third World, especially now as food prices and basic stables continue to rise. You may have seen the NY Times article about Haitians eating mud pies and the food riots resulting.

We divided up into groups of three and were given 100 pesos, ten dollars, and two hours to do a market survey and buy Mexican staples with our money. We did this exact same exercise in Greenville before leaving Furman, to be able to draw accurate conclusions.

I had just read two days before in a mail I received that Nicaraguan staples had soared to 400% and I was told the price of tortillas in Mexico jumped to 380% in the last year. They are in the third world, so it must be cheaper there.

Most of us automatically convert prices and then compare it to dollars. Coming to the satisfying conclusion that its okay, its cheaper in dollars. But, when you put the American minimum wage on a level playing field as the Mexican one, and then look at hours needed to work you come to shocking conclusions.

When we bought tortillas on Monday, September 14, they were equivalent to $11.80 US dollars! The poor are barely surviving on minimum wage in the US. Imagine what people do here, forget talks about a living wage, they are struggling to receive enough calories.

This allows us to understand a poverty mentality. Why people choose to live in a trash dump. They need the dependable income that results from sorting trash and selling it back to the recycling companies.

Living Abroad

2008-09-18T21:32:00.000-04:00

¨If you have come to help me you are wasting your time. But, if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.¨ Aboriginal Activists

I am on the trip I came to Furman for, the fall Latin America study abroad. It is a four class, four country sequence. Environmental Science in Mexico, Latin American politics in Guatemala, Latin American philosophy in Nicaragua, and Latin American history focused on comparative revolutionary movements in El Salvador, why El Salvador failed and Nicaragua succeeded.

To all the people thinking I am doing no school work, let me assure you, I am literally working twice as hard as a college student. I literally took double the hours of a regular student and was in class until 7 pm on Fridays. Now, I have class and quizzes along with meetings and lectures. The crucial difference being I get to learn about a subject and then go see it in person. For example, we took a quiz on our flight to Mexico City and thanks to Dr. Thompson we were all able to identify urban sprawl and ribbon development.

Yesterday we learned about the different types of air pollution and waste management. We then took two field trips that day to visit a community dealing directly with these issues. They are fighting the government trying to install a landfill in their community. They are resisting open sewage in their water while practicing cutting edge technology, such as dry toilets and the first biofilter toilet in Latin America in the community school.

We started in Mexico City and now are in Cuernavaca. Our hotel was a block from the zocolo. Mexico´s independence day was the 16th so we were able to enjoy the celebration for a week. I got sick the morning I left and was literally told they could only do one test because I was flying to Mexico in three hours. So, I sat the second day out, sick a mile and a half up and the third most polluted city in the world. The thousands of people celebrating and the protests helped cheer me up.