HOW BROAD IS YOUR SOCIAL CONSCIENCE?

What is a social conscience? I couldn't actually find a good simple explanation, when I googled on it the other day. But what I take it to be, and I think alot of others too, is that part of us that feels empathy and concern for other groups and kinds of people. Not just our family, relatives, church-members, business associates, etc. but complete strangers with different ways of life and belief systems.

It seems like the last eight years, but even more than that, since the late 1970s to early 1980s, this country has been ruled by people with very narrow social consciences. Which is why we see the economic meltdown, two wars of occupation in middle-eastern countries which will go the way that all imperial adventures in that region have in recorded history, and a very polarized election and nation at large.

For me, mine was shaped growing up in San Diego, CA in the 1970s, 15 miles from the border. Since my Mom liked latin cultures and spoke Spanish fluently, as children my siblings and I visited Tijuana and adjacent parts of Baja California frequently. I never could understand the frightening poverty there, and the difference just that line we crossed made. My parents tried to explain as best they could, but it made me realize that things were not all Happy Days and Fantasy Island out there, even just 15 miles away. We could see Tijuana from most of my schoolyards, in the far distance, and it's pall of air pollution especially. That always made me remember what things were really like there. My social conscience was further broadened by having friends of all races and cultures in high school and college, and by being in an inter-racial relationship several years ago, where I witnessed first-hand actual racism, that I had only in the past related to distantly.

This is why I am a "One-Worlder" as a conservative man called me disparagingly several years ago. I just happen to believe that all people, cultures, and countries, deserve to be able to create their own destinies, and live the way they prefer, so long as they aren't hurting other people, cultures, or countries. And that no one country, group, or belief system has a monopoly on spiritual truth at the expense of others, and hence all are in the greater sense, equal. I grew up on science fiction, in books and the usual t.v. shows and movies. One nice thing about most sci-fi, in these books and t.v. shows, is that in the future, it showed the human race in space, as a race, with all groups and cultures. Major problems like poverty and war were solved, and there was some form of effective world government. I've taken that to heart, and hope I will see that in my lifetime, wouldn't you?

All that said, The Alaska Progressive Review supports the historical election of the multi-racial man named Barack Obama as the president of the U.S. Granted, our staff voted for Nader, as we wanted our change faster, nonetheless, this does at least provide some hope for the future. Mainly because we see this man as having to have a much broader social conscience, than that ever seen in a U.S. President. Why? Because he spent time as a child in a third-world country, Indonesia, and got to see the poverty and political repression at the time there. And, as a non-white man, I guarantee you he has experienced direct racism in some form or other, in his lifetime. These two things would certainly pre-dispose him to think about the global political situation in broader terms, and to see the disasters that have befallen this country in the last 8 years as the result of a culture in power that has no empathy for others outside of a very narrow range. I give you this disturbing story from last year, http://www.buzzflash.com/articles/interviews/049, see what you think.

However, before we get too excited, it's time to send a little hard rain down on the parade. One of my favorite writers, usually on a very good website, http://www.counterpunch.org/, is Paul Craig Roberts. He was the Assistant Secretary of the Treasury during the Reagan Administration, who has since changed his views on many things, and is very outspoken. This article he wrote sums things up pretty well, http://counterpunch.org/roberts11102008.html. We need to remember, Obama's senate record was hardly all that liberal, and he received an unprecedented sum of campaign contributions from all the major corporate and Wall Street players. These power sources are not going to let him go astray very far from the current sorry picture of national and global political reality.

To get away from this stress of the rapidly-changing national and global socio-political situation, the staff needed to take a ski break. One of the things cross-country skiers here in Interior Alaska like to do, is go on outings of a day or two, or longer, on winter trails that have cabins to stay in at night. The White Mountains, about 40 miles northeast of Fairbanks beckoned. The BLM here manages a trail system with cabins there, that you can rent out for 25.00 a night (My God, that sounds like socialism, privatize that quick!) My plan was to skate ski in 20 miles to a cabin on Beaver Creek, the Borealis-LeFevre cabin. But skate skiing is highly reliant on temperature, since you are using your skis as flat gliding sources, if you don't have the glide, it sucks. When the temperature gets below zero it's much slower, and below -10F, forget it, no wax works well. It had cleared out the night previous, so the valleys were about -15F, but the higher terrain, about +10. I set out hoping for the best, but as soon as I got 8 miles out and started descending into a large broad valley, reality set in. Skating another 12 miles out with 35 lbs. on at -15F on the narrow bumpy trail (there was only about 8" or so of snow on the ground so far) was going to suck bad. And then the next morning it would probably be even colder, so getting back out would be worse. So, we went back to Lee's cabin, just seven miles in, and hoped someone hadn't already reserved it. I got there in early afternoon, it was about zero there, a little above the valley. After exploring a little more, I had to spend 2 hours cutting and sectioning three small black spruce trees with a little handsaw for firewood, there was hardly any left there.

I got a meager fire started, since the wood wasn't fully cured, then a couple smokejumpers I knew from Alaska Fire Service showed up. Neat seeing them, but I had to go, so we just skated back to the car. There were a few other cabins within another 6-8 miles, but it was already 4pm, and getting colder, so we just headed back to the car and town. I didn't bring my winter tent, so wasn't planning on sleeping out. A good workout nonetheless, and much-needed.

This is what the White Mountains look like, in the distance from the trail. They are only 3500-5000 feet high, but since our timberline this far north is just 3000 ft., they seem higher.

While skiing back to the car, I remembered reading a speech MLK gave back in 1967, just a year ago to the day before his assasination. It was the one where he first publicly came out against the Vietnam War, our society's runaway militarism, and it's effect on poverty.

http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/45a/058.html This speech sealed his fate, and he knew it, that he had crossed the line. He said several times he was expecting to die soon during that year after the speech. Here are the parts I find truly profound, and unfortunately, more than ever a reality.

"In 1957 a sensitive American official overseas said that it seemed to him that our nation was on the wrong side of a world revolution. During the past ten years we have seen emerge a pattern of suppression which now has justified the presence of U.S. military "advisors" in Venezuela. This need to maintain social stability for our investments accounts for the counter-revolutionary action of American forces in Guatemala. It tells why American helicopters are being used against guerrillas in Colombia and why American napalm and green beret forces have already been active against rebels in Peru. It is with such activity in mind that the words of the late John F. Kennedy come back to haunt us. Five years ago he said, "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."
Increasingly, by choice or by accident, this is the role our nation has taken -- the role of those who make peaceful revolution impossible by refusing to give up the privileges and the pleasures that come from the immense profits of overseas investment.
I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a "thing-oriented" society to a "person-oriented" society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.
A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies. On the one hand we are called to play the good Samaritan on life's roadside; but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it is not haphazard and superficial. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say: "This is not just." It will look at our alliance with the landed gentry of Latin America and say: "This is not just." The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just. A true revolution of values will lay hands on the world order and say of war: "This way of settling differences is not just." This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation's homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into veins of people normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death. America, the richest and most powerful nation in the world, can well lead the way in this revolution of values. There is nothing, except a tragic death wish, to prevent us from reordering our priorities, so that the pursuit of peace will take precedence over the pursuit of war. There is nothing to keep us from molding a recalcitrant status quo with bruised hands until we have fashioned it into a brotherhood."

Do you think Obama has read this speech? I'm willing to bet he has. Our task is to remind him of this. He has actually said nothing new will happen, unless he receives pressure. FDR said the same thing in the early 1930s, before waves of violent strikes and the threat of socialism and communism making inroads, forced him to take action. It's up to progressive people to come forward and be outspoken, because time after time, polls show that a large majority of Americans favors progressive ideas, like universal health care, an end to the Iraq War/Occupation, and more help for the people swindled by unscrupulous and predatory lenders, instead of helping those self-same lenders.

Peru

Many friends and relatives expressed concern back in August and September when I told them I was traveling to Bolivia in October. And there had been political turmoil there in those months, with many fatalities. American Airlines, my carrier from Miami to La Paz, had even cancelled flights from Sept. 15 to Oct. 5. But these problems were in the lower elevation provinces, where dissatisfaction with the central government had been focused. Since I was going to stay in the higher areas to the west, I wasn’t worried. And in fact things went very smoothly during my entire stay in Bolivia, and everyone I met there was friendly. So, when my time to travel to Peru came, on the 22nd of October, I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to occur. Peru has a "centrist" government currently, not as "left-leaning" as Bolivia, Venezuela, or even Chile now, but more in-line with that seen in Brazil. And it has been relatively stable over the past several years, with only minor outbreaks of political disturbance in outlying areas.

My plan was to take a bus from La Paz to Cuzco, Peru on the 22nd, arriving there at 8pm. I had a train ticket and tour of Macchu Picchu scheduled the next day, starting at 0630. The bus left as planned at 0800 from La Paz, and we were on the eastern branch of the Pan American highway, the main arterial linking all the countries of South America. We went through the Peruvian border in the run-down and poverty-stricken town of Desaguadero; clearing Peruvian customs took us an hour, since there were several buses in addition to ours doing the same thing. We sailed through Puno, Peru, on the shore of sparkling blue Lago Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the World, at 12,506 feet.

Puno was not an especially attractive city, but being on the lake certainly did add some appeal. One thing I noticed in Peru was that most of the houses and buildings looked unfinished. Re-bar and a layer or two of bricks stuck up from from most of them. My neighbor next to me on the bus, a Bolivian man from Cochabamba explained that in Peru, you get a property tax break if you declare your building to be under construction, hence, they all are!

After a refreshment stop in Puno, we hit the road again, and for a few hours traveled through the altiplano of Peru, amongst tiny villages with people engaged as they have for hundreds of years, herding their livestock and coaxing crops of potatoes, quinoa, and onions from the poor, meager soil at those high elevations. As we approached the small town of Sichuani, still about 150 miles from Cuzco, the bus lurched to a stop. After a minute, when we didn’t resume, all the passengers got up, and we went out of the bus. Ahead of us stretched a line of about a quarter-mile of blocked traffic, with the engines off. We had to investigate.

The first picture, above, is the view just in front of our bus, the line ahead of us, and some rocks on the road. What? So the driver, a few other tourists, and I walked down about a quarter mile, and came to this.

About a thirty foot section of the Pan American highway, the main travel and commercial link between all the countries in the lower half of the continent, covered in about 30 feet of boulders and pieces of metal. Guarded by about ten sharp-eyed youths with sling shots and rocks-in-hand. Off to the right side of the road were 10-20 more of them. After standing around for a few minutes, about 20-30 very angry bus and truck drivers, 8 Argentinian motorcyclists on a trans-continental trip, and a few tourists, myself included, milled around, pondering the situation. The drivers were having a heated discussion, no doubt trying to plan taking back the road, and it only took me a minute to size up the scene and come up with a plan myself. But, a female driver in the group kept pleading with the others not to do anything. This went on for almost an hour, by then it started getting dark, it was about 7pm, then it was too late. Probably for the best, as had there been an attempted take-back of the road, there would certainly have been injuries. Still, we were all angry, we all had plans, and there were many families with small children on the stopped buses. But there was nothing for it but to head back to them. At the time, we didn’t even know what these people were protesting, but I later found out that villagers in this area were angry at the provincial government because of plans to build a hydroelectric project that would inundate some of their grazing and farmland.
So we all went back to the bus and waited, and waited. Around 11pm, with no movement or engines running, my new friends Damon, a British tourist from Bristol, Richard, a Bolivian man traveling for his textile company, and I walked a quarter mile back to find a store. We were starving, and didn’t have a food supply. We found a tiny store open catering to all the stranded people and got some crackers and a beer. All of a sudden, as we were finishing our beer, we heard the distant sound of engines starting. Uh oh…not a good place or time to be left stranded. I was wearing the best shoes for fast movement, hiking boots, so I sprinted back as fast as I could, which proved interesting, at 14,000 feet, after having a large beer, and breathing concentrated diesel fumes. I pounded on our bus to slow down, which it did, I jumped on, and told the driver two more were coming. Damon and Richard jumped on a minute later, and we caught our breath, very relieved to have made it back in the nick of time.
It took us two more hours to get past the block site! All the traffic kept starting and stopping. Finally, as we slowly ground past, our bus was pelted with rocks! But tempered safety glass is very strong, so I wasn’t worried. We never did find out who cleared the block, was it the Army, or did the villagers relent? At no time did we ever see any police. Peru is in serious trouble if they can’t keep open their major highways. There were hundreds of buses, trucks, and other vehicles, blocked on both sides of the road.

We got in to Cuzco at 330 in the morning, 7 ½ hours later than expected. I had a hotel room reserved, fortunately, but Damon and Richard didn’t. So I let them camp out on the floor while I took the bed. For my two hours of sleep, since my Macchu Picchu tour was to start at 0630. I thought briefly of cancelling it and just sleeping in, then finding a flight back to La Paz, thinking that things could get worse, but I’m glad I didn’t. I caught a ride to the train station in Cuzco, and then got on the slow four-hour train ride to Macchu Picchu. Although I was dead-tired, and starving, not having had time for food, I stayed awake for most of the train ride, as it was very interesting. Cuzco is a little lower than La Paz, around 11,300 feet, but the train had to go over a 14,000 foot pass, then slowly wind down to the canyon of the Urubamba river, which it then followed to Macchu Picchu. This canyon was amazing, in some areas more than 10,000 feet deep, as glacier-clad peaks sometimes came in view through the clouds as we descended into the jungle. We arrived to the town of Aguas Calientes, the base village containing hotels, restaurants, and shops, at 1100. I was even more faint from hunger, and tired, but had to catch my bus up to the ruins, so couldn’t stop for a meal. The buses wind up a narrow dirt road about two thousand feet, on the side of cliffs. The terrain there is incredible, I’ve never seen such steep gorges and hills, all clad in thick, tropical vegetation. Two thousand people a day are allowed into the ruins, I was with a group that had an English-speaking guide, so after we cleared the ticket booth (it was almost like entering Disneyland!), we began our tour. My pictures don’t do justice to the incredible terrain here, and the scale of the ruins http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Machu_Picchu .

Our guide led us around for two hours, explaining the history and purpose of the site, and it’s discovery in 1911, by Hiram Bingham, a Yale University archaeologist. Considering how thick the vegetation is there at 8000-9000 feet on the moist eastern side of the Andes, it’s amazing how thoroughly archaeologists and others were able to clear and restore the ruins. There are even more yet to be restored, sloping down on the side of that steep mountain. It is estimated that thousands of Incan people built the city over a period of 20-30 years, between 1430 and 1460, or so, before it was abandoned, for reasons unknown. The Spaniards never saw it during their conquest of the region 100 years later.

Although I was in near-desperate straights from hunger and lack of sleep, just being at this incredible place helped sustain me. After our tour, we had an hour to ourselves before having to get back on the bus down to Aguas Calientes. I just strolled through the ruins, trying to visualize the people that built the city, and how they lived there. I even made a new friend, she let me approach and pet her long furry neck for a minute, before resuming her meal of tasty green grass.

It started raining as my hour came to an end, so I headed back to the tour bus, on my last legs. I had my best meal during the whole trip at the base village soon after though, fresh sautéed trout from Lago Titicaca, which helped me regain some energy. I was able to sleep most of the way back on the train to Cuzco, which helped even more.

After a much-needed good night’s sleep in Cuzco, I had to re-assess my travel plans. I had a bus seat reserved to return to La Paz that afternoon, but I found out all the bus companies traveling that route were on strike, because of the roadblocks! I had to get back to La Paz as my flight back to Miami was on the 26th, and I had stored two of my bags at my hotel there, so I could travel lightly in Peru. I found a travel agent who spoke some English, and she got me a last-minute plane ticket from Cuzco, to Lima, then an overnight flight back to La Paz, and it wasn’t cheap! I then had two hours to kill before needing to get to the Cuzco airport, so I walked around the main plaza.

These beautiful old cathedrals date back to 1540, and inside (no photographs allowed), elaborate altars with intricate gilt-leaf inlays are present. A turbulent history in that area though, my guidebook listed several battles and assassinations having occurred there over the centuries.

My crowded flight to Lima (filled with stranded people like me) left in the afternoon. It was interesting watching the terrain become increasingly drier as we headed west, and the incredible shroud of air pollution covering bone-dry Lima, population roughly 8 million, which has an annual average precipitation total of less than two inches! Air pollution as bad or worse than any I’ve ever seen in Los Angeles. The Lima airport was also very interesting. I didn’t feel like exploring Lima, not wanting to take any chance of missing my flight back to La Paz, so I stayed in the airport for 8 hours, until my midnight flight. What was so interesting about the Lima airport was the affluence, after being immersed in the poverty of Bolivia and the rest of Peru. Most of it was very new and polished, and the prices for souvenirs, food, and everything else, were higher than I’ve seen anywhere in the U.S.! Obviously only a small fraction of the population of Peru could ever afford to fly, much less be allowed to set foot in that airport.

I noticed a few differences between what I saw in Peru, and experienced in Bolivia. First, prices are significantly higher for everything in Peru, though still cheaper than the U.S., for things like meals and lodging. Second, there were fewer "full-blooded" indigenous people in the areas of my travels in Peru, more people were Mestizo, the mix of indigenous and caucasian, and hence, lighter-skinned, and taller. And third, although the people in Peru were not rude, or hostile in any way, it just seemed like the majority of people I met in Bolivia were friendlier. I'm not sure why, perhaps because the tourist industry in Peru is much more developed, and the number of tourists much greater, that there is some resentment amongst the locals. Who knows...

The rest of my trip was uneventful, a nice restful day in La Paz after getting back in the early morning, then a smooth flight back to Miami, the next morning. All in all, I had a great time in both countries, most of the people were friendly, and though I didn’t get to summit Illimani, the view from 18,000 feet was well worth the hike. The alternating excitement and boredom of the Peruvian road-block experience was also interesting, and a good reminder for me how fortunate we are in the developed countries. I plan on going back to Bolivia some day, as well as to Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, more of Peru, Chile, Argentina, and Brazil too, I have developed a fondness for the people and culture of the parts of South America I’ve seen so far.

Evo, Si?

While touring around La Paz or other cities on the altiplano, by bus, train, or taxi, I couldn't help but see many billboards like those below, along with painted slogans, or posters, supporting in some way, Evo Morales, the president, and the ruling party, M.A.S., Moviemento as Socialisem (Movement Towards Socialism). This first billboard translates as "Bolivia, United, Grand, and for Everyone", and was for their referendum on his/their policies last summer. Which passed, with 68 percent of the vote, nation-wide.

This sign, below, translates as "Evo of the People", "Because they never abandoned us, the people will never abandon you". Typical political propaganda, you might say, and certainly there is an element of truth to that. No different than political campaigns in any country. But Evo Morales ascedence to the presidency of Bolivia in December, 2005 represented something historic to the 60 percent of that nation who are fully indigenous, since he is also, of the Aymara group, from the town of Oruro, south of La Paz. Much like the election of Barack Obama is seen by the African-American community in this country, but even more so, considering the longer period of repression and powerlessness of Bolivia's indigenous majority. This link gives a good basic biography of him, and his political career. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evo_Morales

I first became aware of his interesting rise and outlooks when he was elected, and read articles like this: http://www.counterpunch.org/morales09222006.html This was a speech he gave to the U.N. in 2006, in which he provided a clear and understandable outline of what he and his supporters are working for. For me, it made perfect sense, and was greatly admirable. And it was partially for this reason that I wanted to visit Bolivia, because I believe(d) their (MAS) movement had great promise and potential for alleviating long-standing poverty and injustice in that country. And for inspiring movements in other countries of a similar vein, perhaps even in Mexico and the U.S.

Following is the complete text of a letter Pres. Morales wrote to the U.N. on environmental issues, and I couldn't agree more with him.

26 September, 2007 -- Letter from President Evo Morales to the member representatives of the United Nations on the issue of the environment.

"Sister and brother Presidents and Heads of States of the United Nations: The world is suffering from a fever due to climate change, and the disease is the capitalist development model. Whilst over 10,000 years the variation in carbon dioxide (CO2) levels on the planet was approximately 10%, during the last 200 years of industrial development, carbon emissions have increased by 30%. Since 1860, Europe and North America have contributed 70% of the emissions of CO2. 2005 was the hottest year in the last one thousand years on this planet.

Different investigations have demonstrated that out of the 40,170 living species that have been studied, 16,119 are in danger of extinction. One out of eight birds could disappear forever. One out of four mammals is under threat. One out of every three reptiles could cease to exist. Eight out of ten crustaceans and three out of four insects are at risk of extinction. We are living through the sixth crisis of the extinction of living species in the history of the planet and, on this occasion, the rate of extinction is 100 times more accelerated than in geological times.

Faced with this bleak future, transnational interests are proposing to continue as before, and paint the machine green, which is to say, continue with growth and irrational consumerism and inequality, generating more and more profits, without realising that we are currently consuming in one year what the planet produces in one year and three months. Faced with this reality, the solution can not be an environmental make over.

I read in the World Bank report that in order to mitigate the impacts of climate change we need to end subsidies on hydrocarbons, put a price on water and promote private investment in the clean energy sector. Once again they want to apply market recipes and privatisation in order to carry out business as usual, and with it, the same illnesses that these policies produce. The same occurs in the case of biofuels, given that to produce one litre of ethanol you require 12 litres of water. In the same way, to process one ton of agrifuels you need, on average, one hectare of land.

Faced with this situation, we - the indigenous peoples and humble and honest inhabitants of this planet - believe that the time has come to put a stop to this, in order to rediscover our roots, with respect for Mother Earth; with the Pachamama as we call it in the Andes. Today, the indigenous peoples of Latin America and the world have been called upon by history to convert ourselves into the vanguard of the struggle to defend nature and life.

I am convinced that the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, recently approved after so many years of struggle, needs to pass from paper to reality so that our knowledge and our participation can help to construct a new future of hope for all. Who else but the indigenous people, can point out the path for humanity in order to preserve nature, natural resources and the territories that we have inhabited from ancient times.

We need a profound change of direction, at the world wide level, so as to stop being the condemned of the earth. The countries of the north need to reduce their carbon emissions by between 60% and 80% if we want to avoid a temperature rise of more than 2º in what is left of this century, which would provoke global warming of catastrophic proportions for life and nature.

We need to create a World Environment Organisation which is binding, and which can discipline the World Trade Organisation, which is propelling as towards barbarism. We can no longer continue to talk of growth in Gross National Product without taking into consideration the destruction and wastage of natural resources. We need to adopt an indicator that allows us to consider, in a combined way, the Human Development Index and the Ecological Footprint in order to measure our environmental situation.

We need to apply harsh taxes on the super concentration of wealth, and adopt effective mechanisms for its equitable redistribution. It is not possible that three families can have an income superior to the combined GDP of the 48 poorest countries. We can not talk of equity and social justice whilst this situation continues.

The United States and Europe consume, on average, 8.4 times more that the world average. It is necessary for them to reduce their level of consumption and recognise that all of us are guests on this same land; of the same Pachamama.

I know that change is not easy when an extremely powerful sector has to renounce their extraordinary profits for the planet to survive. In my own country I suffer, with my head held high, this permanent sabotage because we are ending privileges so that everyone can "Live Well" and not better than our counterparts. I know that change in the world is much more difficult than in my country, but I have absolute confidence in human beings, in their capacity to reason, to learn from mistakes, to recuperate their roots, and to change in order to forge a just, diverse, inclusive, equilibrated world in harmony with nature."

Evo Morales Ayma President of the Republic de Bolivia

Unfortunately, his and his government's viewpoints like this are completely at odds with the majority of developed-nations, and our neo-fascist current administration began to actively work against the new Bolivian government in a variety of ways. Which led to the expulsion of the American ambassador, last September. He was accused of funding the separatist groups in the breakaway provinces, groups who were responsible for riots and many fatalities and injuries last Aug. and Sept.
http://shininglight.us/archives/2008/09/bolivia_at_the_abyss.php
Given America's horrible history of funding and supporting murderous right-wing governments over the past century in Latin America, it's hard not to believe at least some of the charges listed by the MAS government. And because the Bush regime has an especially active dislike of Evo M. and Hugo Chavez, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hugo_Ch%C3%A1vez) in Venezuela, because they are outspoken about changing their societies unjust and grossly unequal political and economic systems using their nationalized-hydrocarbon wealth, and fighting against U.S. imperialist influence in Latin America (nationalized oil/gas industries set a dangerous precedent, although many developed countries have them, Norway, for example.) All that said though, I never had any problem when I divulged that I was from the U.S. A few people did ask me "what's wrong with your country?", about why Bush was elected twice. I told them our corporate media only shows things favorable to the current government, because they get tax breaks and other benefits. And that most Americans only read and see that information.

Before I did my Illimani climb, the owner of an outdoor store called Tattoo, in Calle Illampu, right down the street my first hotel, Rosario, said there was going to be a huge march/rally on the 20th/21st. He was not happy about it because the streets would be clogged, and it would be bad for business. I forgot about it though, but on the 20th, when I got back early from Illimani, I saw the thousands of people streaming into La Paz for this event. Then, the next day, after I visited at the office of the SNMH, I walked back through downtown, toward my hotel, Hotel Gloria, and came upon this scene.


This is just two blocks down the street from Plaza Murrillo, which I had first visited the day of my arrival in La Paz, and where the Presidential Offices and National Assembly Buildings are. What is all this? Bolivian voters are going to decide in January upon a new constitution that will attempt to meet some of the demands of the hydrocarbon-rich, oligarchical western provinces (the so-called Media Luna, middle crescent), while still trying to move forward with MAS initiatives to re-distribute unused land and allocate some income from natural gas exports toward social spending projects. Evo Morales and members of the MAS initiated and led this march across the entire country, to drum up support for the new constitution. On sunday the 20th of October, with Evo and the MAS officials leading, the hundreds of thousands of marchers streamed into La Paz. Groups of miners, farmers (including coca growers), and indigenous groups from all over the country, and even other countries in South America were part of it. On monday, the 21st, a rally was held in Plaza Murrillo, below, with Evo and other functionaries giving speeches, along with some of the different groups' representatives.


All the streets around Plaza Murrillo were clogged with several hundred thousand people. It was quite an effort getting around, but I managed to go through all the different areas around the plaza, including, at very bottom, right behind the stage where Evo and his people were sitting. At all times, people were courteous and nice to me, even though I stuck out like a sore thumb, being much taller and lighter in color. I have to say, it was very inspiring to see all these people, who had marched for many days, at great effort and expense, all in support of their government. Has that ever happened in the U.S.? After the nightmare of these last 8 GWB years especially, I was feeling very cynical about the political process in general, and seeing this helped reinvigorate me, and my desire to help create a more sane and just government in the U.S.


I wasn't able to understand all the speeches, native spanish speakers tend to be fairly fast, so I was only able to pick up scattered phrases. But most of the speeches seemed to be about the new constitution, working for all of Bolivia, etc.. I did catch a few anti-U.S. references, which I'm sure made sense to them, I wish had been able to understand all of them.

I noticed this man early on, above, in Plaza Murrillo, he seemed to have that energy, or air about him, of leadership and authority. I'm sure you can all remember when you've met someone like that. He actually came up to me and inquired where I was from, since obviously, I was a tourist. With my broken spanish and his few phrases of English, I managed to learn he was from Chapare, on the east side of the altiplano, where it starts to slope down to the rain forest. He was indeed the equivalent of a mayor, in his village, and was with a large group of farmers from there. I gave him my "Yo soy en parti verde Alaska Estados Unidos, Evo, Si!, Hugo, Si!" line, of course which I really mean, and he liked that. We talked for about ten minutes, before his group headed up toward the stage where Evo and the other politicians were. Unfortunately with the strong high-elevation tropical sun, I closed my eyes at the wrong time. Oh well...
During the rally, people were lighting firecrackers and skyrockets, and I have to admit, when these were going off, I got nervous, given the turbulent history in Bolivia, and indeed, in that very plaza.

So what does the future hold for Bolivia's fragile experiment with transforming their country? Every indigenous person I talked with was very much in favor of the MAS government and Evo. One Mestizo man, my guide Alejandro, at Tiwanaku, expressed concern about undue Venezuelan and Cuban influence, as thousands of advisors and medical personnel from both countries have been in Bolivia the last few years. The most pessimistic conversation I had was on the train to Uyuni, with a European woman who's husband worked for a European Union aid agency. She said the expulsion of the American ambassador led to other American interests leaving, and cost the country thousands of jobs. And that the differences between the oligarchical provinces and the MAS government were so great, that a civil war was practically inevitable. That was very depressing to hear, and I certainly hope that will not come to pass. I can only hope that the new Democratic administration in this country will take a more realistic and open-minded stance toward the countries in South America as well. As for me, Evo, Si! I really enjoyed my visit to Bolivia, and all the people I met and talked with were nice, most were hopeful for the future, and many thanked me for visiting. I just wish more of them could visit here!

Illimani

This is Illimani, the beautiful 3-peaked extinct volcano, rising to 21,230 feet, that graces La Paz with her presence, along with a diagram of the route we followed. I had decided when I was planning this trip that I wanted to summit one of the Andean mountains of at least 20,000 feet elevation, and chose Illimani because of its proximity to La Paz, and the interesting descriptions I had read from climbers who had been on it. I went with Bolivian Journeys, a guiding company headed by Marco Souria, who has many years of climbing experience, and has helped glaciologists and climate change researchers in their treks in the high Andes. He told me beforehand this would not be an easy climb. I didn’t doubt him.
My guide was to be Eulogio, who has summited Illimani more than 20 times. He spoke very little English, but with my broken Spanish, I was able to communicate effectively. Although Illimani is only about 25-30 miles from La Paz straight-line distance, it took us 4 hours to get there. We had to wind around an incredibly steep canyon behind La Paz, that had to easily have been at least 7000 feet deep. The road descended to the bottom of it, where it was very warm, then ascended the other side, in steep hairpin curves through three small villages. One of the hazards of the trip is below right, herders with their sheep and llamas, sometimes it took them several minutes to get their flocks off the road.

We arrived at the base village around noon, and had to wait for our porters, to help us haul most of our gear up to the low camp. The base village lies at about 13,000 feet on Illimani’s lower slopes, and women from it hire out to all the guiding companies as porters. The first day, these two teenage sisters, Jimena and Clarita, tied the two 60 lb. bags with our food, tents, and climbing gear to a burro, and led it up to our low camp at 14,500 feet, where they are standing by the tent.

It took us about three hours to hike up to the low camp, it was only about 4 miles from the village, and not too steep of a trail. I had just 35 lb. on my back, extra clothing, some food, a down sleeping bag, and water. So I didn’t feel too bad from the altitude. The low camp was in a large open meadow, right at the base of the mountain. It was a cold and gloomy place during our stay, with occasional showers of snow and sleet, and thunder at times. Amazing to me were the herds of horses, sheep, and llamas that people from the village tended in this inhospitable location. My only negative experience in Bolivia occurred that night. Eulogio warned me to bring everything in the tent at night, but I forgot to bring in my very nice collapsible trekking poles. They were gone in the morning. A little eerie to think of strangers wandering around overnight there around my tent in that gloomy place, stealing things.

The next morning started out cold and gloomy, but as we had breakast, began to turn sunny and inviting. We packed up and were ready to hit the trail at 0900. Our porters this day, to lift our supplies to Campo Alto, the high camp at 18,000 feet, were Jimena, who’s about 16, and her older sister Juanita, who is in her early 20s. They tied up the two 60 lb. bags in blankets, wrapped them around their necks, and followed us behind. The trail initially was not very steep, and I thought, great, if it just slowly winds up the mountain, I’ll be in fine shape. Unfortunately, this was not to be. The trail quickly started ascending a sharp knife-like rock outcropping between glaciers. It was like climbing stairs the whole time, on sharp, sometimes loose rocks, with fatal drop-offs on either side of hundreds of feet.

These pictures, above, are about halfway up to Campo Alto, around 16,000 feet. I quickly realized the effect of the altitude, combined with the weight of my pack and steepness of the trail. At home, hiking or skiing with 35 lbs. on does require additional effort, and slows me down some, but at these altitudes, the effect was magnified. We stopped every hundred feet or so, so I could catch my breath, and took very short, slow steps. Of course even Eulogio couldn’t just run up this, so it took us about five hours to ascend from where the trail steepened at 15,000 feet, to Campo Alto, a map distance of probably only about two or three miles. The views were incredible, the thick, steep glaciers on our sides, and the rocky precipitous slope below tumbling down into the canyon, dotted with distant villages and terraced farms. In the far distance, the skyscrapers of La Paz were visible.

We reached Campo Alto around four in the afternoon, and immediately threw down our packs and rested. 18,000 feet, my new altitude record. But unfortunately, I was so winded from our ascent, I just was not able to fully recover my breath. My breathing continued fast, with my heart racing, and within an hour, I began to come down with the symptoms of the dreaded Soroche, altitude sickness. For those who have never experienced it, it is truly miserable. For me, it was a mind-numbing headache that seemed to press out from my skull through my eyes, and a low-grade nausea, not incapacitating, but enough to prevent me from eating anything, though I was able to drink some hot tea and water. The last time I had felt like that was from a bad case of the flu when I was 21, many years before. The plan had been to set up camp, get to sleep early, then rise at 0200 and summit, so we could get back to camp by early afternoon, in case the daily afternoon convection got too bad. I wasn’t going to descend yet, I thought, maybe with some time and rest, I’d improve. Meanwhile our porters came up with their loads. They ascended the rough, steep, rocky route in their dresses, shawls, and sandals with no socks! And it was about 25F up there at 18,000 feet! Talk about tough, I was highly impressed. They were slower, carrying their heavy loads, but were laughing and joking the whole time.

The views from Campo Alto were incredible, like nothing I had ever seen before. It was worth the money spent, effort, and current misery, just to have seen this incredible place. I did eat a few bites for dinner, which stayed down, then enjoyed the sunset and the views.

You can really see the thick layers of snow/ice accumulation that occur every year during the wet season, which is their summer. In this latitude of the tropics, snow levels are usually around 17-18 thousand feet in summer, 14-15 thousand in winter. But winter is the dry season, so not much falls then. But it did look like to me that there was significant recession on the bottom ends of all the glaciers. When I lived in Juneau, from 1998-2001, the Mendenhall glacier there was in fast recession (and still is), and the freshly exposed rocks on Illimani at the lower edge of the glaciers reminded me of that. And, on older pictures of Illimani, you can see the difference. On this picture, from La Paz, in 1997, the glacial tongues extending down in elevation are much wider, and extend significantly lower. As I mentioned before, the Andean countries of Ecuador,
Peru, and Bolivia are very concerned because climate change modeling suggests that all their glaciers could be gone in 40 to 50 years, which they now rely on for water supply and power generation.

The sunset there has to have been the most beautiful I have ever seen. As the daylight lessened, the lights of La Paz became visible in the far distance, and even further, 100 miles away, the perfect cone of Sajama, the highest peak in Bolivia, at 21,500 feet, was in view. The glaciers above camp and the summit of Illimani were bathed in the orange sunset alpenglow.

These crosses, below, just up the slope from Campo Alto, memorialize three Bolivian guides who died over the past ten years. They died because they were guiding tourists like me who came down with Soroche, who then pressed their guides to continue. The tourists either blacked out or slipped, and took the guides with them on their fatal journey. Eulogio said if I didn’t feel better later than night, there would be no climb. I was not going to argue with that! What followed was very likely the most miserable night I can remember. Bundled in my down bag (the temperature out was probably about 15F, with a stiff breeze), with the headache and nausea, sleep was impossible. When Eulogio awoke at 0200 and asked me how I felt, I said no change, and we decided, there was going to be no summit attempt. So, he went back to sleep, and I tried to, but was not very successful. While lying there in misery, it seemed like every 10 to 15 minutes or so, I heard what at first I thought was thunder. There had been some earlier that day, but after awhile, as these sounds continued, I realized, they were avalanches on the higher slopes of the glacier cap. So, perhaps it was for the best we didn’t summit.

Finally when morning light arrived (not soon enough for me!), we slowly roused ourselves, I had some water and tea, but no food, and we packed camp. We began our descent around 0800, this time Eulogio had me rappel down the steep rocky face, just in case I was too tired and slipped. But I was actually feeling fairly well, just knowing we were descending, I think, gave me a boost. It only took about two hours to get down to 15,000 feet, and by then I felt much better. By the time we got to the low camp site at 14,500 feet, I was able to eat. Another couple hours brought us back to the base village, at 13,000 feet, and by then I was ravenously hungry, and ate a full meal of potatoes the villagers gave us, with canned tuna. I passed out all my chocolates and candy to several small children who materialized from the village. Amazing how just the four thousand foot descent was enough to clear my symptoms and return me to normalcy. Since we didn’t summit, we returned to La Paz a day early, and I visited with the Bolivian Servicio Nacionale de Meteorologia y Hydrologica (Bolivian National Meteorological and Hydrologic Service) the next day, after a good night's sleep in my plush 30.00 hotel.

I met with their Meteorologist in Charge, Senor Felix Trujillo. Their office is in a five-floor building shared with an Air Force branch office and their FAA. Although his English was similar to my Spanish, good for the basics, but difficult to maintain in-depth conversations, we still managed to exchange some useful information.

They have a staff of five meteorologists and are only open Monday-Friday, during the day, since they don’t prepare aviation forecasts (I wasn’t able to ascertain who does them for Bolivia). They do have a doppler radar in La Paz, the only one in the country, and issue severe weather warnings based on it. They also issue flood warnings for the whole country, and prepare water supply forecasts, because they have several large dams producing electricity. I was slowly able to demonstrate our graphical forecast editing procedures, using NWS web-sites. They still write their forecasts manually like we in the NWS used to do before the introduction of the graphical forecasting editing process. Their data displays are very nice and large, very much like our AWIPS system, with panes for satellite, radar, and forecast model images. Since none of the universities in Bolivia have a meteorology program, Sr. Trujillo received his degree in Argentina, and others on their staff from Brazil. A few of their meteorologists have even been to NCEP (National Center For Environmental Prediction), in Washington D.C., for training. The lead forecaster on duty ran through the current weather picture with me, their satellite, radar, and forecast model displays were just as good as any we have in our NWS offices. Sr. Trujillo asked me about climate change issues in Alaska, and I mentioned our melting permafrost and the shrinking summer Arctic Ocean ice. He said their main concern is glacial recession on the high peaks. Bolivia and Peru rely on these for much of their drinking water, and power generation. Modeling suggests that in 40-50 years most, if not all, the glaciers will be gone in these countries. It did look like there was significant shrinkage of glaciers on Illimani, as you can see above, and from what I saw, and of course, the demise of their ski area serves as a stark example. Even though we were handicapped by the language barriers, I felt we had a productive visit, and when my Spanish improves, and I return for another one, I look forward to even better communication.

Salar de Uyuni/SW Bolivia/chile/Potosi

After my first three days in La Paz spent acclimating to the altitude and getting a feel for how things worked in Bolivia, it was time to move on and see more of the country. I decided well before my arrival to see the Uyuni Salt Flats, the biggest salt lake in the World, and the SW corner of Bolivia, as I had seen amazing and bizarre pictures from there. I was not disappointed. Seemingly, everywhere you look in central La Paz, tour agencies advertise tours of the Salar de Uyuni and SW Bolivia, along with mountain climbs and mountain bike tours. What you will get for your $200.00 for a 3 day 2 night tour will always be the same, unless you really check closely, and pay more money. Which is this, a ride with five other tourists, a guide/driver, and a cook, for eight total, in a 10 to 25 year old Toyota Land Cruiser. Three long driving days spent jammed in the back and center seats was hard on my knees, but well worth it. There were three young Irish tourists, a German woman, and another American and I, along for the ride. First though, I had to hop a jammed local bus from La Paz to Oruro, in central Bolivia, then catch a train from there to Uyuni, the small city on the edge of the salt flat. The bus ride was crowded and long, as to be expected in Latin America. But the train ride was something else entirely. It was clean and modern, with comfortable reclining seats and good food; for the 12 hour ride to Uyuni, the fare was only $20.00!


Setting out from Uyuni in the Land Cruiser, we just took right off over the salt flat at 60 mph. As you can see, it looks like crusty spring “corn” snow, but the surface is as hard-packed as an asphalt road. In the tropical sun at this high altitude, eye protection is essential! It is the biggest salt flat/lake in the World, three times bigger than our Great Salt Lake, and at an elevation of 12,500 feet. There are several small volcanic islands sprinkled around the flat, and after about two hours driving, we came to the most famous, Incahuasi, the cactus-studded rocks. Looking very Arizona-like, with those large cacti, the only clue we had of the high altitude, besides the relatively cool 60 degree day, was the extra effort required to ascend several hundred feet to the top of the island.

What is also amazing about this area is the climate. Although it is still in the tropics, at 20 degrees south latitude, that is far enough from the Equator for decided seasonal differences in temperature to occur. This combined with the altitude produces a climate like no other on Earth. Average high and low temperatures in winter on the salt flats are 45-50, and 8-15, degrees Fahrenheit, respectively! And it can get as cold as -5 to -10F! Summer temperatures are comfortable, 60s by day, around 40 at night. Winter brings the dry season, so snowfall there is rare, the little moisture that comes in summer occurs when convection from the lower elevations to the north and west is forced over the region by the northeasterly trade winds. In the even higher elevations of southwest Bolivia, which we visited on our second and third days, temperatures are even colder, and conditions drier!
Strange and amazing scenes are to be found in SW Bolivia, especially in Eduardo Avaroa National Park, which we toured the second day. Our first night on the salt flat tour was spent in the little village of San Juan de Lipez, near the park, where the accommodations were less than rustic, bordering on extreme. Tiny beds in a tiny, crowded room up dangerous narrow stairs, with the only bathroom (clean though!) at the bottom and around the courtyard. But the food was good, our Bolivian cook provided us with three home-cooked authentic meals daily. I even had Vicuna (the smallest relative of the llama) steak for lunch our first day, which was similar to beef in taste and texture. While we were eating dinner in San Juan de Lipez, about 8 children from the town, between the ages of about 7 and 14 serenaded us with local music using the small flamenco guitar and pipe flutes. They were a little raw, but we appreciated it nonetheless, and of course gave them more than the expected tips. They were very nice kids, and it was great to see them performing for us like that. Before dinner we walked around town, and checked out their local livestock, llamas and alpacas. We also were encouraged to take a tour of mummified remains in a weird open-air rock graveyard. Said to be from the indigenous people there 800 years ago. I didn't take pictures, thinking it not appropriate. But there were about 20 little rock crypts, many of which did indeed have small mummies in them, mostly bones, some skin, clad in disintegrating wool clothing. For these views, we paid 5 Bolivianos (80 cents). Interesting, but strange.



The next day we took off early and headed in to the park. These are some of the things we saw.





The flamingoes in the picture on the top, left, were found in several lakes around the region. They live year-round there, eating algae, even though the lakes partially freeze every night. The strange rock, below this, was formed by eolian processes, i.e., by the strong prevailing winds in the region blowing sand, which eroded the softer rock. This rock was on a plain at 15,500 feet, and on our day, a strong northeast wind of 35-45 mph was blowing, and it was about 45 degrees. The red lake, upper left, is Laguna Colorado, our destination on day two. The amazing red color of the lake is from algae, and there were thousands of flamingoes on it, truly a strange site, the more so because the wind was even stronger, than up the road where the eolian rock was. All the salt flat tours spend the night at the Laguna Colorado camp, which is a collection of cabins with 8 beds, one cabin per land cruiser. The accommodations were just as rustic as the night before, but comfortable. As it got down to about 15F that night, and the cabins are unheated, we had all been warned to bring warm clothing and down sleeping bags, and were glad we did.


We were awoken early the morning of the third day, at 0430, that we could leave at 0500 so as to arrive at the geyser area of the park by sunrise, around 0600. This unusual steam geyser was only lukewarm to the touch! There were several others in the vicinity as well. After breakfast at a lodge there with a nice hot spring to soak in (it was still just 20F outside), we headed south and west toward the Chilean border, over a 16,500 foot pass. On the other side of that pass, we came to Laguna Verde, above right, the green lake. It has an otherworldy appearance, as you can see, and there were flamingoes in it. This lake lies at about 14,500 feet.



We made a brief foray to the Chilean border, to drop off one our riders, so she could catch a bus into that country. I ran briefly across the border, there being no guards, just so I can say I set foot in it. I have a strong attraction to that country, and it is next on my list to visit. Partially because I remember the terrible history there from the 1970s, on. When I was 9, in 4th grade, we all once a week, had to bring a newspaper article in and talk about it in front of the class. I'll never forget what mine was. It was a very small two paragraph story on the corner of the front page of the San Diego Union, "Coup in Chile", dated September 12, 1973. It just gave a brief description of the previous day's events there, which you can read about in my "Is it 9/11 already?" post. My Mom knew more of the story, since she was an activist in a very left-wing party then. But she didn't explain it all to me, I was only 9, and wouldn't fully have fully understood. I want to talk to people in Chile and see what their experiences were then, and see the changes that have occurred since, which are great. Their current "center-left" President, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michelle_Bachelet, actually lost her father in the 1973 coup, and she and her mother were tortured by the fascists. Our support of that coup marks one of the darkest events/actions in modern American history.

After our stop at the Chilean border, we made the long, 8 hour ride back to Uyuni, over more windy, narrow, mountain gravel/sand roads. By the time we got back to Uyuni, we were all sore of knees, tired, dusty, and parched, but still stunned by the amazing scenery, something none of us will ever forget.
Next up on the itinerary was a side trip over to Potosi, the old mining city, which at 14,000 feet, is listed in the guidebooks as the highest city in the World. With a population of 200,000, I didn’t doubt it. The bus ride from Uyuni to Potosi was a classic Bolivian journey, 9 hours over a mix of paved and dirt road winding up and down passes as high as 16,000 feet, with two stops in small villages, to give us a chance to stretch our legs, get a snack, and most important, find a restroom. Potosi is dominated by Cerro Rico, an innocuous looking 16,500 foot “hill”. But this hill has a terrible and amazing history. Out of it came untold billions of dollars in silver, which financed the Spanish empire from 1550 until Bolivia’s independence in 1821. It is estimated that 500,000 to one million indigenous people died in the mines during those years, when they were forced by the Spaniards to work in them. Thousands of miners continue to work the shafts in Cerro Rico, though it is not an easy living.


Before reaching the mine, we had to suit up in protective gear, and buy some supplies to give to the miners, dynamite (anyone in Potosi can just buy it in a store!), snacks, and a bag of coca leaves. The mine entrance, as you can see, is fairly small, and after disbursing our gifts to the miners, we headed in. We walked for almost a kilometer in, it was cool, and damp, with standing water in many areas. Strange stalactites of salts and minerals were hanging off the ceilings as well, some of the reddish ones we saw were composed of sulfuric acid! Sometimes the shafts were only 4-5 feet high, so this is definitely not something for the claustrophobic. It gave me a good idea of what those miners have to go through every day, and our guide said most of them can only end up working in there for 10-15 years, before health problems force them to find other work.


I left Potosi that night, the only bus back to La Paz is a 10 hour overnight trip. This went fairly well, I was able to sleep most of the way, and got back to La Paz in good shape. Because the next day, the centerpiece of my entire trip was to begin.