Guateblog

I just spent the last two hours watching, mesmerized, the mass for Teddy Tennedy. It was extraordinary. It brought the Kennedys into focus once again, both through the lens of Greek tragedy and the enormous strength of family to overcome adversary. The amazing resilience, the incredible life of Teddy Kennedy and his family, this family basically as close to American royalty as it is possible to get. Ted Kennedy Jr's eulogy was not only moving in the Kennedy context, but in everyman's context. The universal agreement that his life transcended politics ...who would have thunk it?...because of who he was as an individual, with both his weaknesses and strengths front and center, is impressive. Even Obama refrained from politics!

It was especially moving for me, daughter of immigrants, and one who, like so many millions, owes her core identity to the United States and the melting pot it is. I remember how much my father loved Franklin Roosevelt, and also how he was bowled over by Truman's win over Dewey, something he often talked about.

I remember seeing Jack Kennedy speak at UCLA and how sexy we all thought he was, who cared about his politics? I cast my first vote for president for him. After that it was all about the Kennedys...I remember hearing about Jack's assasination while at the beach in Venezuela and thinking it was a cruel joke.... I remember Bobby being gunned down at the old Ambassador Hotel in LA... and who could forget Jackie? And the lump that John's death provoked in my throat ... in a small plane, what memories that brought! Unlike my sister, he was found, but there is always that moment of deja vu. En fin, despite having lived most of my life outside of the US, the Kennedys were all pervasive. Not that I was always a great fan of Teddy's politics, but I never forgot he was a Kennedy. Just as those who attended his funeral mass today in Boston.

When Teddy was carried out of church for the last time and his children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, friends and political but not personal foes, all joined in singing America the Beautiful I felt much more than a lump, I felt uplifted and extraordinarily grateful to be a citizen of the United States of America!

Amazing, isn't it, after having lived for so long in Latin America to still have that sense of patriotism instilled as a child by a father who worshipped Roosevelt!

God bless America...!

I cannot believe that four years have passed without a posting! Guess it's time to emulate nephew Nico and start writing about this fascinating world we live in! Who knows, I might finally get started on the book I've had fermenting, just like the sourdough bread I'm trying to achieve here in Guate.

Stay pendiente!

Labels: BACK AGAIN

Life here is always fun, ...talk about circling wagons! Last week we had two demonstrations in the city; the interamerican highway (leading to Mexico) was blocked by campesinos rampaging against a piece of mining equipment being towed along the road; the air traffic controllers went on strike and the airport was closed for 24 hours approx (a few hours less) until they hauled the leaders off to jail (they had turned off the airport runway lights and walked out just as a transport plane was landing!) and finally the gov brought in scabs from Mexico and El Salvador to open the airport. Yesterday downtown wa.s blocked because the president was giving his state of the union speech in congress...and supposedly the airport was also going to be blocked, as well as the main roads in and out of the city...actually, that never happened. Probably because a weekend was in sight and who wants to ruin one's weekend by protesting?

This morning the newspaper Prensa Libre ran a story on honey...I was interviewed yesterday as I was balancing on a ramp leading into my new honey warehouse..bodega..where the tanks are located. In actual fact, as I like to say but that Richie considers redundant, the ramp led to thin air...the bodega is being constructed as we speak. I got to a safer platform and gave my considered opinion to the reporter while a rather cold wind whipped around me... my new bodega is in the highlands, no longer on the broiling coast. Good for the honey, for the workers, for me. Also closer to the city... The story turned out to be quite accurate, surprisingly enough.

I'm sitting in the sun listening to opera and writing this...almost time for a Sat afternoon nap.. although I should go visit Baysis, haven't done that for a few weeks. It's nice being alone, the phone almost not ringing, the kids ignoring me, and Henneke off at the airport seeing to flowers flown in from Holland that should be delivered tomorrow to the cruise ship Europa. We'll go to the port tomorrow to have lunch on the ship and to be sure the flowers and a rifer container of food are properly delivered. Of course all this arrived without the proper papers and Henneke is spending hours getting flowers and frozen food through in transit to the ship...

Well, Barb2 complained that putting the burnthegringo bit on this blog is not proper for a blog, so I hope this is more PC. I"m sure I'll hear....

Went to the Permuths' photo exhibit at the IGA Thurs evening..Jaime set me straight..the quote that I thought so great and presumably was his, turned out to be from Miguel Angel Asturias, THE great Nobel prize winner in Guatemala...not Rigoberta, mind you.

En la ciudad de las iglesias uno se siente la necesidad de pecar!

Siesta time!

My friend Carlisle is a journalist with a morning English language program: Good Morning, Guatemala. It's on an ABC affiliate station called Emisoras Unidas, you can hear it at www.supercadena.com, online, 7a.m. - 8:30 a.m. Guate time, the same as US Mountain time.

I've known Carlisle for many years and so I appear on it periodically, usually covering my favorite topics; honey exports, CAFTA, or maquila. I'm going to add his account of an unusually difficult moment in his life to this post...just don't take this as the usual Guatemala bashing, we look at this a bit differently...like, better not be in the wrong place at the wrong time! Not here, not anywhere.

"On the afternoon of Friday January 7 I drove from Guatemala City to Jucanya, Solola, choosing the upland Pan American highway route in view of the recurring assaults on the shorter "old road" route. At the Km. 117 turnoff to Las Trampas, approximately 50 police officers in riot gear were milling about. I asked if something had happened and was informed "Not yet, it's the issue over the pasarela (pedestrian overpass)," and that there were "several thousand protesters at the mirador (scenic overlook)." As I proceeded to the overlook at Km. 121, I noticed that there were indigenous sentinels posted along the high (15-20 ft.) embankment flanking the highway which in that sector is largely a cut.

At Km. 121 I counted approximately 70 additional police officers, two PNC buses and a half dozen patrol cars. The police carried automatic weapons, and wore riot gear and bulletproof vests. There were (although this was about to change) only 40 indigenous people at the site, along with the lowboy trailer carrying the 17-ton tubular iron mill shell, stranded for the past several weeks with several tires flattened. I identified myself to the tactical commander, called Emisoras Unidas, put the newsroom in direct contact with the police chief, and decided to leave. At that time a noisy mob came streaming down the highway, around the corner to the overlook, and approached the police commander, who was literally at my elbow. A traje-clad woman (referred to as the alcadesa), was the first to speak, telling the police that she was there to uphold the rights of the indigenous of the region and that the police must leave.

She was relieved by the mayor of Solola, who gave a discourse alternating between "we are humble, followers from four departments who are protesting the passage of the mining equipment, and" the police and the mining companies are all-powerful". He stated that they were weary from two days of negotiations and of being told the same thing, or in effect nothing. He complained that they had been lied to by being told that the mining equipment was part of a bridge. He then stated, supported by the alcadesa that the presence of armed police was a provocation, and that the police were "requested" to leave. He immediately changed the demand to use the word "ordered" to leave, within 15-20 minutes. An impromptu interview (since there were no press there at the onset, I surmise that they had been waiting with the protesters for developments) with the mayor and alcaldesa ensued. I asked why if the mining equipment were destined for San Marcos it was a Solola issue, and he repeated a Guatemalan saying to the effect "San Marcos today, Solola tomorrow." I then asked if the police left, would the equipment be damaged? He replied to the effect that he hoped not, but of course he couldn't control the people (a recurring theme). My questions, his comments and other journalists' questions were recorded and videotaped. The only media I recognized were Guatevision and Noti Siete and that recognition was only via the logos on their (probably stringers') microphones.

While waiting for the police to contact headquarters, I detached myself from the several hundreds surrounding the mayor and the alcaldesa, and attempted to interview several men carrying the baston indicating they were mayors. After it became clear that they didn't speak Spanish, I thought it prudent to make a phone call to 1) inform an interested party that there was a risk of a serious incident and 2) make sure someone knew where I was. I spoke to her in English. This was a mistake.

I was immediately surrounded by a sub-mob of about 100 indigenous men, demanding to know why I was speaking a foreign language, and insisting that I must be calling police reinforcements. I was particularly aggressively accosted by an individual wearing a vest that said "prensa" who announced to the crowd that he knew Emisoras Unidas and that I was lying because there is no English language program on EU. I was clearly identified as press from EU and offered him my cell phone to call EU to verify my identity. At that point someone behind me said "Queme el gringo", another said "Tenemos gasolina", and a third, to widespread approval called out "Quemamos el gringo." At this point I decided to leave and had three alternatives. I could force my way through a crowd that had me hemmed in ten deep, call out to the police, who were some 30 meters distant, or take a third approach, which I did. I insisted firmly that I be taken to the mayor of Solola. Escorted there I told him that he knew I was a journalist, that I was charging him with my safety, and that the crowd had threatened to burn me. I asked him to ask the mob to permit me to leave. He spoke to the crowd in Kaqchikel. It parted, escorted me to my vehicle and surrounded the Explorer. I gingerly drove away, all the while expecting the vehicle to be struck with the staves and pieces of re-bar many men were carrying. It was about 3:35.

The road between Km. 121 and Los Encuentros, the site of the overpass at Km. 127 is strewn with chunks of concrete, downed trees and other detritus. Other claims to the contrary, I estimate that there were no more than 1200 protesters at the site and along the route, virtually all males.
(end of narrative)

Conclusions:

What happened to me is part of my job and I feel no particular ire or resentment at being detained and threatened. However, I think the incident underscores a conclusion that it is no longer safe for foreigners (or indeed Guatemalans) to move about in rural towns and areas in Solola and perhaps elsewhere. The detaining of a listener on a back road from Solola to Xela as reported on the air a few weeks, the detaining of the mountain-climbing group, and now this, seem to point to the need for a warning or perhaps a warden alert. The ordinary risks from bandits in Solola are now increased by risk of association with the mining issue, and anti-foreign sentiment may become manifest.

I am aware of the timing of plans to move the mining equipment to its San Marcos site, with promises from the government of military support. The prospect of attacks on a slow-moving lowboy carrying mining equipment approximately 160 kilometers through hostile territory may cause people to think twice about using the Pan American highway

This is my first blog...I'm probably doing everything wrong, but with time.... it's a quiet SAt afternoon, the sun is going down behind the volcanoes, and no, I"m not in Antigua, I'm in the city. In fact, I live here...very happily, may I add. Never a dull moment!

I"m going to post this just to see what happens next...will revert, as an Israeli I know keeps saying...and he does, actually, revert!

Saludos!