El izquierdismo III

Fernando Lugo, 57, was accepted into the priesthood in 1994 and worked most of his life in a small Department of Paraguay called San Pedro, one of the most underdeveloped regions in the country. Recently, the Vatican accepted with reluctance and without precedent a denunciation of his office as priest, and he hopes to return to that profession after his five years as president. Like Morales in Bolivia and Correa in Ecuador, his clothing is of indigenous style, and Lugo wears sandals nearly everywhere. Despite jokes that he has needs a visit the podiatrist for ongos, the sandals are a symbol of his continuing faith. A famous carpenter, one popular with the people, also wore sandals.

Liberation theology has been suggested as the defining philosophy for his presidency, a philosophy that argues that as part of the religious life one should target poverty because the founders of the philosophy believed it was the source of sin. Hence, eradicating sin means eradicating poverty, and vice versa. In liberation theology, the mission of religious life is to redeem the poorest of the earth, particularly through political activism. Because political and economic institutions subject certain groups of humans in poverty, liberation theologists focus on changing them in their pursuit of both equality and a world without sin. Perhaps Lugo didn’t renounce completely his office in the church, but has taken up one where he can be more effective.

Lugo has said that one of his role models is Salvador Allende, the president of Chile from 1970-1973. Overthrown in a coup led by various factions in the government and succeeded by Augusto Pinochet, Allende was the first Marxist leader to gain power through a democratic election. A candidate who appealed to the workers of Chile, he took land from those who owned it, nationalized many primary industries in the country, and created social programs aimed to eradicate poverty. Much like Roosevelt in the Great Depression, who has also been mentioned with reference to Lugo’s task, Allende created employment through public works programs and nationalization. But, facing arguably more obstacles than faced by the Roosevelt, Allende’s reforms were not effective and in a short time the country was ravaged by inflation and the appearance of black markets for basic commodities. Allende’s friendship with Fidel Castro amplified American worries of communism taking root in Chile. In the end Allende’s socialist state did not survive. Allende, at the height of a coup d’état, made his final radio speech to the people and allegedly killed himself with a rifle given to him by Fidel. On the rifle was the inscription: “To my good friend Salvador from Fidel, who by different means tries to achieve the same goals.” With any luck Lugo will have more success than Allende did with his reforms, and will avoid being overshadowed or coerced by his friend from Venezuela.

What is sure, though, is that this weekend Lugo assumed a role in the socialist tradition of Latin America. He began his speech in Guaraní, but after a few minutes asked permission to switch from Guaraní to Spanish so that the visitors might understand too. Guaraní speakers took special note of the respectful, though political, gesture. He didn’t mention el dios in his speech, and there does seem to be at this point a good separation of church and state in Paraguay, but he did talk about the people. And while Lugo is now President, it is his promise to stay with them. Other leaders in Latin America are leading with the same cause, and trying to work through the government to bring power to the people. In a very special was he hopes to use the office: Lugo realizes that revolution in Paraguay will not come from elections alone, but must be with the culture of the people. As Lugo remarked of the challenge to the people, “it could be the most important wager in Paraguay’s history.”

El izquierdismo II

A student uprising took place recently to oppose the appointment of Moreno Ruffinelli as Rector of the Universidad Católica because of his politics during the Stroessner era (1954-1989). Some 30 students and others from the philosophy department blocked the main entrance to the university for several weeks, waiting to hear either a renunciation or to hear that someone had been injured in an effort to remove the demonstration. Moreno was as a fantastic candidate, and the Church will be hard pressed to
find one as dedicated or prepared to be university dean. The students emphasized in their protest law 209 of 1970, which Moreno had a role in drawing up when Minister of Foreign Affairs. The law allegedly permitted the persecution and torture of Paraguayans by the Stroessner dictatorship. Certainly, if Moreno’s pen was responsible for human rights violations, the recent protest is more readily justified. Most Paraguayans—including the student government of the Universidad and the Catholic Church—supported his appointment and believed that history was history. In the end, though, the students carried the day.

The significance of a student protest in Paraguay seems greater than a protest in a developed nation. Student demonstration has not been allowed historically, and students are for the first time using a voice that has been silenced for many generations. In practical terms, they probably made things worse for themselves, but that is often the case with protests—the endgame is to hold things up rather than move them along. Despite all the injustice heaped upon him during the whole process, the protest was part of an evolutionary process here in Paraguay. The students learned that they can speak up and be heard—that Paraguayans finally live in a society with freedom of expression.

Throughout Latin America people are gaining this same voice, as they learn that indeed their governments are democratic and are willing to hear dissenting opinions. Recently in Bolivia the people were presented with a referendum that approved the Presidency of Evo Morales, despite much dissent from more affluent groups about his governance. During his visit Chávez was accused of advising Lugo to restrict the freedom of the press, but later denied that he had suggested curtailing the right to criticize and discuss the government. While there is certainly existing suppression of the press and bias among owners here in Paraguay, greater freedom of expression exists. The protest was an indication of a growing consciousness about the democratic system Paraguayans are a part of, and a shout that has no substantial precedent.

It remains to be seen how forceful the voice of the people will be, and whether Latin American governments will yield to it in the way that Moreno Ruffinelli did. Perhaps the protest was a manifestation of the desire to expel the old guard—past politicians and administrators ruled without regard for the people’s best interest. More discussion, criticism, and activity, in any case, demonstrate movement and consciousness among the people; there are many signs that they are ready to assert their role in a participative government. Instead of using a bad word to describe the politicians that will lead them, remember that these leaders grew up with the people and show a genuine desire to help them. Instead of socialists, call them populists. A good time to see an uprising and a good time to be a Paraguayan: Fernando Lugo last weekend took the reigns of a government that promises to endow the people with greater rights, and hopefully riches.

El izquierdismo I

A lot can happen in 100 days. In as many, Fernando Lugo hopes to show the people of the Republic of Paraguay that he can lead them out of a 60 year slump. They have seen improvements in the last few years, and it seems that the people are more conscious of their own role in enriching the country. And while there is some talk of individual work ethic, there is more talk throughout Latin American of socialism, liberals, and democracy, though it’s yet unclear what exactly those terms mean. Most Paraguayan industries have been nationalized for years, so Lugo’s job will be to make them more transparent. He has appointed ministers from all political parties and renounced the presidential salary. On his first day, he arrived at the office by 6 am and later had a simple lunch of beans, rice, and mandioca with his guards. Readily visible over the weekend was his friendship with Hugo Chávez, with some apprehensive of more collaboration between the two. It seems that Lugo has enough intelligence to avoid being coerced by Chávez, and hopefully will be able to focus on what got him elected: the people. He threw a party for them over the weekend and even hosted it at the Palacio de López, a palace that has long been the seat of a less sympathetic commander in chief. In a recent speech commending Lugo’s role in what he calls a “social revolution in Latin America,” Chávez remarked that anyone who couldn’t see that revolution—which may just now be reaching its quite long-winded crescendo—must be blind.

The prevalence of the word che in paraguayan Spanish a well as in other South American countries to me suggests somewhat a communion between the people. You’re liable to hear it in about 50% of the orations that take place in social situations. Over beers or tereré with friends, at a football game, or in the office, che or chera both starts and is appended to sentences. In strict terms it is an interjection given to an animal or person meaning stop or halt, but colloquially it is used more endearingly. It has been around for a long time and has disputed origins; the most convincing is that it derives from the general reference to “man,” “people,” or “friend” in American Indian language. On his motorcycle trip through South America, Ernesto Guevara was nicknamed Che because of his frequent use of the term, and is still idolized as the de facto social revolutionary.

In Guaraní, also an official language of Paraguay, che primarily means “I,” which gives the word its connotation of individuality. In his well-received speech this weekend, Lugo emphasized the role of individuals in making the government more efficient, economy stronger, and increase the quality of life. One of his ministers joked that she was rethinking her appointment after Lugo’s speech: he expects the ministers to work effectively and transparently. Not quite in the job description for public functionary here in Paraguay: the term funcionario has become slang for one of the 250,000 government workers who just don’t do much at all during their workday. This is changing, though, and the new generation doesn’t believe in receiving posts for party affiliation, and are starting to see that their work is the only thing that can prop up the people. Passed through the Spanish and Guaraní languages, che seems to be an expression of unity, with its connotations of revolution, the people, and individuality. It is even suggested that the term may be an abbreviation of the word escuche: listen.

Rutina desviada

Lest everyone freak out and think that I've ground to a halt here in Paraguay since finding more of a routine, I wanted to post and say that such is not the case. Achieving "normal" is at last reassuring and indeed what we strive for to make our lives comfortable. All of us should be lucky enough to establish routines--to find surroundings and people that are routine and for that reason make us happy. I'm sure that I'll be able to live with a routine, and was almost setting one up just before I left DC, but for now I find it quite difficult to have too much of a routine. I usually run for cover when commitments to regularity come along.

In any case, the post riled up some of my readers, despite the fact that I can count them all one hand. There were no photos on the last post because I was at home and the Internet connection is rather poor, but better than nothing. We were at the Expoferia a past weekend and had a good time there. It's like a state fair for the state of Paraguay, and everyone sets up their stand to show off what they have been doing for the year. One of the main attractions are the women in tight bodysuits, like what those new suits that swimmers use. Paraguayan men love to head out there and get their picture taken as they pose with some divina. I have always wondered, though, what does it really do for them to have a photo just like all the other men have, with a woman who is being paid to stand and take photos with random men? I don't really understand that part, but my friend Arturo and I did get a photo.

The size of some of some of the houses in Asunción, mostly near my house in the ritzier part of the city, is just staggering. I had seen this one several times and caught them this time without the guard out front, which is
pretty rare. A good part of the Paraguayan workforce is employed in the industry, and altogether with the time that they spend pacing and sitting they could read Moby Dick five times in a month. Unfortunately there is seldom printed matter, let alone literature, in their hands. Something does happen every once in a while, I am told, and I guess that is what they wait for, an event that they can write about it their own book. With the guardia in mind, a shout out to Yessica and our guardiahere at the firm, who is named Blas. One of you will recognize him, and you'll know that he still asks about that photo you've been meaning to send.

Normalizationizing

People do all sorts of things to mix up their routine. At the top of the list are vacations or weekend trips out of town, joining a book or a recreational club, or buying a extravagant automobile. Somewhere on the list—for those of us who have the liberty—are extended trips abroad. Writing to someone last week, I realized how while we can take trips to learn and work for the people of another nation, things tend to become routine pretty quickly. I’m sure I’ll find more out about the stages of my trip once I am back on home soil, but here’s a start.

You prepare to leave for your trip, which for me involved everything from submitting a leave of absence form, saving a bunch of money, and packing up my doormat. Then there are the goodbyes, and the feeling that you will be gone for an eternity and everyone will have moved when you get back, which of course is not the case and all that you have missed out on is another humid summer in DC. Rushing off to the airport, you spend two days in anticipation and wonder what the other people in the world are doing with their Monday, you may even chat someone up on the plane and tell them all about what you hope to do in the next upcoming six months. Nevertheless, you are helpless to tell them accurately.

Upon arrival, there’s great excitement and the novelty of somewhere new in the world. I was shocked by the luxury and hospitality of my temporary home, and even in the car from the airport Stael and Carlos told me tell you that instead of tú they are accustomed to use vos here in Paraguay (which, interestingly, used to mean king and with the deposition of the regal system became the way to address your common man). Acclimatization to the language had begun.

The first couple of weeks are really exciting, and there are many new people to meet, hang out with, and work with. I was introduced to several people and who I never saw again, either because their work wasn’t relevant to mine or they just couldn’t be bothered beyond introduction. You adjust to a new schedule, new transportation, the food, and the novelty of wearing a tie to work each day. It turns out that I was also swept up into the social scene by a lovely Paraguaya on about my second day, so much so that I have a pretty good idea of what the nightlife is like in Asunción. My caddiness got the best of me, though, I must report. I wouldn’t know the place like I do if it weren’t for her, and she deserves a shout-out for that and for the good times.

About three months in, and with completion of a major project, things started to become routine. At work it was like reporting for another day’s duties, at home it was food that I had already tasted and people to whom I had recounted my provenance. There was still much room for novelty at that point, however. I began teaching a class and was challenged by the lesson plans and the fact that I knew how to write English but not necessarily how to teach it; I went several museums and learned about Paraguayan culture. I even traveled once, and it felt like I was away from my home town of Asunción.

I prepared for my journey to a country that I had scarcely heard of nor seen on the map (we Americans are rather ignorant of world geography, are we not?) just to see it all become the same. I sit here and type this behind my desk as I would in the States, and I will wake up and go to work in the morning. I will get to the office after my normal breakfast of toast and make a Nescafé to sip while I browse the news and blogs, perhaps chat with my brother about what is going in DC. Work is work, my preferred beer is what I drink, and I get drinks or a snack at my metaphorical corner bar. I have even taken to jogging again and picking and choosing what food I eat and when. This country and the contacts that I have here are now what I deal with each day, and they seem increasingly normal—I will of course see new things, but day to day things are more or less standard.

It’s amazing how quickly things normalize in our lives. Despite all the experiences and learning I've had and will continue to have during my time in Paraguay, day to day all things at last become routine. In both out lives and in our relationships we have to change often so that they don’t get become so normal as to take our spirit or stifle our creative energy. The excitement and adjustment is the same when we move, find new love, or secure a new job. There will be another crescendo as I prepare to leave Paraguay but were I not leaving the normalization would persist. From this uncharacteristically long and philosophical post, perhaps the conclusion is that life is generally just normal—the best that we can do is invite challenges and change, and enjoy the people and good times which surround us. Through change and enjoying the people closest to us, our routine becomes reassuring rather than discouraging, and our normal lives become rich.

Un artista

Victoria, the divorceé of an artist – at least a floundering one – understood that her husband had a great love for his painting. It conflicted at times with the love that he was able to show Victoria, since Louis’ need to paint was often much greater than his desire to participate in other activities. Going out to dinner, falling asleep together, watching movies, and entertaining friends late into the night fell into this category. Enjoyable to Victoria for good reason, these activities often coincided with Louis’ spells of inspiration. The only conclusion that Victoria could make was that his art was more important than she. As he passed so much time blending his colored paints and composing, Victoria began to feel herself a victim of adultery, as if Louis were enjoying another woman in his studio. He knew that her feelings were both legitimate and coming to a head, he failed to address them. In the end he loved only his art.

Springtime

With all the herbs they have here in Paraguay, here is one that corresponds with their strong sense of superstition. My colleague Carol brought some of the “potion” to work, so I had to try it out. It tasted fairly bad, but I'm certain I tasted worse cocktails in my teenage years. For a stab at good luck and health for a year I’ll readily put up with it. We all must brace ourselves for changes since we will inevitably meet them--things fortunately never stay the same. New challenges and circumstances are what keep the world looking new! Although I am always quite resistant and am always as shocked as anyone, stumbling across change always presents opportunities to learn about ourselves, see a perspective that we may have been missing, and force us to keep questioning what's next. Drink up!

Translated from ABC Digital on the first: "Today is the day to drink a few swigs of the famous “Carrulim,” whose name derives from the three components of the drink: caña (an alcohol of fermented sugar), ruda (a leaf), and limón . A toast to your health, the ingredients frighten away evils and protect the health, according to Guaraní belief.

Since ancient times Paraguay has believed that the month of August brings with it misfortune and bad luck, or the famous “yeta.” To avoid these malas ondas, Paraguayans recommend that a shot of carrulim be drank on the first day of the month.

According to Guaraní witch doctors and grandparents, the first of August of every year is the ideal time to drink the potion, because this is the day that the second half of the year begins. Popular belief also says also that carrulim as a drink brings good luck to those who drink it, regardless of the fact that it’s only a spoonful.

According to the tradition the potion purifies and renovates the blood, to make the person healthy throughout the rest of the year. Faithful to this custom, vendors of herbs and remedies which have street kiosks across the country have offered since Wednesday the famous potion in bottles or small jugs."

In the previous post I wrote that an Argentinian originally proposed Dia Del Amigo, but I learned that it was indeed a Paraguayan named Enrique Bracho who proposed the Day ten years earlier. Proud to say that they are humble, though, no Paraguayan makes a fuss about it and lets the Argentinians enjoy the credit.