Porto Alegre, Brazil: The World Social Sessions

Action
On the third day of the World Social Forum, I attended an all-day workshop entitled, “Human Rights in the Age of Terrorism.” Panels consisting of activists and lawyers from a variety of international human rights organizations such as Human Rights Watch, Nicaraguan Center for Human Rights, and FIDH spoke throughout the day. Most of the presentations focused on examples of how governments in Indonesia, Burma, Chechnya, Israel, the US and Europe have been using the pretext of national security to violate the rights of marginalized groups, since the US declared a war on terrorism. Like other presentations at the World Social Forum, the session took place in a large tent with over 100 participants drifting in and out throughout the day.


Another WSF session. The session I’m discussing occurred in a larger tent.




Due to the sweltering heat, another session moves outside.

The presentations were in English, Spanish and Portuguese. Simultaneous translation into Spanish and Portuguese (but not English) was provided via headphones. I thus, had the bizarre experience of listening to an American professor of mine from Columbia University speak in Portuguese, which I understood once it was translated into Spanish.

The last session, according to the schedule, was dedicated to international strategizing around how to continue to defend human rights when governments use the threat of terrorism as a pretext for violating those rights. When the floor was opened for suggestions on how to build an international coalition, the first speaker gave a long, detailed description of human rights violations in Haiti without relating those violations to the theme of the day. The next participant spoke of the situation in Colombia, but again, offered no suggestions for the proposed international coalition. Then a representative from Human Rights Watch presented 3 concrete proposals for building a coalition. I followed by cautioning that we must be careful not to use “terrorism” as loosely as governments do. With that, there were no more comments. The facilitator thanked everyone for attending, provided a general summation of what transpired incorporating the concerns of the Colombian who spoke, and ended with a somber, yet hopeful, “another world is possible.” People remained behind to trade business cards and ask follow-up questions.

One of the presenters arrived just after the session ended, and asked another presenter, “well, did we come up with a plan?” To which the second presenter replied sarcastically, “what do you think?”

Reflection
I must confess that I found the WSF sessions disappointing. I thought there would be more networking and strategizing between different organizations. For example, I attended the Human Rights in the Age of Terrorism session with high hopes of seeing human rights attorneys planning cases to bring in international courts and weighing the pluses and minuses of different public relations campaigns. Instead, most of the workshops I attended just presented information to an audience, with little time for communication between audience and presenters and little discussion of what to do with the information presented. Judging from the dialog between the two presenters that I heard at the end of the session, people organizing the workshops had a fatalistic approach.

On the other hand, the last presenter integrated the comments of the Colombian activist into his closing remarks. This indicated to me that what I consider inefficient and off-the-subject commentary might actually further discussions and solidarity between people in ways that I don’t appreciate.

Finally, besides being hindered by my own impatience. I felt handicapped by my fluency in only one language. My Spanish wasn’t good enough to get past the general ideas of the speakers. Moreover, at least half of the sessions were only in Portuguese, often without translation, making them inaccessible to me (and many other participants).

Question
If you were to organize a session at the WSF, what would it look like?

Porto Alegre, Brazil: The World Social Territory

Action
From January 26 - 31 Josh and I attended the World Social Forum in Porto Alegre, Brazil. This was the fifth World Social Forum, a congregation of people involved in social movements around the world meeting under the theme, “Another world is possible” and strategizing against neo-liberalism and for social justice.

Though there were around 150,000 participants, the organizers tried to create the feel of more intimate communities. The sessions were divided into eleven thematic groups. The physical layout of the site was divided into 11 parts as well, so I ended up spending much of my time in the tents where sessions grouped under the theme “Human rights and dignity for a just and egalitarian world.” In addition to tents where sessions were held, the cluster of tents for each theme included internet tents, art exhibits and a space where various groups offered brochures and information about their organizations. Most importantly, every cluster of tents included a line of Port-A-Potties, which to the best of my knowledge were always fairly clean.

Sign marking the human rights section, where I spent most of my time.	Tents from another section. This was taken the last day when the site was the most empty. Usually there were more people out.

As a participant, I received a tote bag made by a local cooperative. On the third day of the forum, the strap to my bag broke. I had remembered seeing some sewing machines by a food tent the day before, so I decided to head over there. After a friendly Spanish/Portuguese conversation, two women from a sewing cooperative repaired my bag free of charge.

In fact, all the services, from the construction of site to food services were provided by cooperatives. Even the computer software in the internet tents throughout the site used open source software instead of Microsoft products.

Reflection
During my time at the World Social Forum, I was most impressed with the infrastructure of the site. From basic things to easy access to bathrooms (as I was recuperating from an intestinal infection, this was important to me) to the attempt to make a gigantic event feel more friendly and navigable, I felt like the organizers succeeded in creating a comfortable temporary community. The infrastructure was even more meaningful to me, because behind the physical plan, was the ideological goal of presenting a viable alternative to capitalism. For six days I participated in a world where services were provided by people who also take part in the management of their businesses, and if something broke, it was repaired free of charge. The attention to an infrastructure based on an equitable economy also legitimized the event for me, because the organizers had the integrity to create a microcosm of the world they were fighting for.

Question
When have you been in an environment that resembles the world you want to live in?

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia: The Story Behind the Photos

Action
We spent four days on a tour of the amazing and often surreal countryside of southwestern Bolivia. We saw flamingos surrounded by snowy mountains:


vast deserts:


Burbling geysers:


And a train cemetery:


I was in some sort of physical discomfort when each of these pictures was taken. After the first day, the areas we were in were so remote that there was no running water, nor were there outhouses or wells at the places we stopped during the days. I didn’t take this into account when I was savoring my coffee and orange juice at breakfast the second day. Thus, during our bumpy ride over dirt roads the second morning, my awe of the scenery was often punctuated by an acute awareness of the state of my bladder. Our rest stops provided little relief, as my shy bladder did not suddenly become more outgoing in the middle of the desert while I pretended that a foot-high rock was providing me with discrete cover.

The second night of the trip I developed a stomach infection that lasted for the rest of the trip and beyond. The aforementioned lack of sanitation facilities probably had something to do with my condition. To get a sense of what I felt going on in my intestines, refer to the above picture of the geyser. I spent the rest of the trip napping in the car, periodically murmuring that the scenery was “bea-OW-tiful”, as a sharp stomach cramp would interrupt my commentary.

Reflection
I give you the gory details of being sick while traveling not in the hopes of eliciting pity or sympathy- I practically overdosed on self-pity. Rather, I wanted to share something the pictures don’t express about our experiences. I don’t want people to look at the pictures of the tour and think that we floated through this magical place. For me, the physical discomfort was just as much a part of the experience as the stunning scenery.

In short email exchanges, I often don’t express the physical discomforts and frustrations I go through when traveling. Moreover, I don’t believe that I have to express them to most people. Email exchanges that end with, “sounds like you’re having a great time” aren’t deceitful. I would feel like I was being dishonest, though, if I were to show these pictures to close friends and family and not try to convey the complete experience. Well, not the complete experience of being sick…

I’m still figuring out how to express that I generally am “having a great time”, even though there are plenty of instances of frustration and pain.

Question
What are some of the wonderful things you’ve experienced while in physical discomfort? With whom did you share the fact that you were uncomfortable?

Potosí, Bolivia: The Richest and Deadliest Mine in the World

Action
After reading about the illustrious history of Potosí earlier in our travels, we were looking forward to experiencing the city firsthand. For most of the 16th and 17th centuries, Potosí was the richest and largest metropolis in the Americas. After being founded in 1545, the city had grown to house 120,000 inhabitants in only 1573, more people than Madrid, Rome, or Paris. The source of Potosí’s growth was silver. Nestled at 12,000 above sea level, the city was and is dwarfed by the massive “Cerro Rico” (“rich hill”), containing one of the largest silver reserves in the world.


The silver rush came and went, however, and after a few centuries Potosí’s economy was in ruins. I visited one of the remaining active mines, and learned how desperate the situation still is. Since de-nationalization of the mines in the late 1980s, over 30 small mining companies have developed. The miners’ work remains dominated by manual labor, however, and they use much of the same equipment as in centuries past.


Inside the mine, individual miners chip away at the rock with handpicks and sticks of dynamite. Their work was once cooperative, but after debates over pay distribution, the miners now work independently or in small groups. When a group finds some valuable mineral, they load the rocks into carts, push their load up out of the mine, and are paid according to the value of their rocks. All of the minerals are then exported as raw materials and processed abroad by foreign companies. The processed minerals are subsequently resold at much higher prices, with the profits going to the foreign companies.

The mine passageways are short, narrow, and often filled with mud. There are no lights inside, besides each worker’s headlamp. Much of the air is noticeably contaminated with arsenic and other fumes. The workers generally work 6 days a week, 10-12 hours per day. They do not eat during the work shifts, subsisting on breakfast and a late dinner. Child labor is common, and some miners are only 12 years old.


To tolerate the adverse conditions, the miners constantly chew on coca leaves. The leaves dull the senses and help the miners to work with little oxygen or food. Most miners keep a wad of coca leaves in their mouths while working. Most also have chronically bloody gums, likely as a result.


Reflection
During the city’s heyday, more wealth flowed from Potosí than from any other city in the Americas. This wealth traveled first to Spain, and then to Europe’s developing capitalist countries – England, Holland, and France. According to Eduardo Galeano, the capital pumped into Europe from Potosí helped provide the resources for the development of capitalism itself – while 8 million indigenous Bolivians died from the atrocious work of extracting these resources.

Although many of the miners are illiterate and speak only their indigenous language, at least some of them seemed conscious of their continued oppression. Our guide explained the miners’ frustration with both the lack of government investment and support, and the ease with which foreign companies extract profits from the mine. After over 400 years, it seemed that Potosí was still being used to support foreign companies at the expense of Bolivian lives.

Question
Why have the conditions at the Potosí mines changed so little? What could be done to improve them? What other situations are comparable to the mines of Potosí?

La Paz, Bolivia: Where the Streets Are Paved with Coca Leaves

Action
For me, the highlight of our time in La Paz, Bolivia was our visit to the Coca Museum.


The exhibits at the museum explained the various ways the coca plant has been used, and we learned the following. The coca plant has been cultivated for thousands of years by indigenous people in the Andean region, which includes Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia. Coca is used in religious ceremonies and cultural celebrations. Incas applied coca leaves to anesthetize patients undergoing brain surgeries. Coca is still used for medicinal purposes, as I learned when a guide recommended that I drink a tea with coca leaves to soothe my upset stomach.

Coca is also a stimulant. The Spanish who operated the silver mines of Bolivia encouraged the indigenous people toiling in the mines to chew coca leaves, to maintain the energy to work long hours. Miners in Potosi continue to chew leaves to suppress their appetite and increase their energy. The museum also contained an exhibit on Coca Cola, which still uses coca leaves as a flavoring.

While walking around looking at the exhibits, Josh and I chewed handfuls of coca leaves. They tasted bitter, and after a few minutes our tongues felt numb. I felt more alert afterwards, but less jittery than after drinking a couple mugs of coffee. Coca also effects how the body processes oxygen, making it easier to breathe at high altitudes. We also purchased some coca candy at the museum, which had the same effect as chewing a handful of leaves without making our tongues green.

Cultivating coca is legal in two areas of Bolivia, but outlawed in the rest of the country. Its sale and consumption is legal everywhere, so it’s not uncommon to see leaves for sale in bulk on the street (The going price is about $2 US per half kilo.):


When we took a bus through Chapare, a region where coca cultivation is legal, our bus was stopped at two checkpoints and members of the Bolivian military searched for the precursor chemicals that are used to manufacture cocaine. Because coca leaves are legal, I didn’t have to worry about the drug-sniffing dogs finding my coca candy.

The sign reads, "Bienvenidos al Chapare/Estamos en lucha contra las drogas/unete a nosotros...denuncia al que la tiene” (Welcome to Chapare/We are in a fight against drugs/Unite with us...denounce those who have them)

Just down the street from the checkpoint, we saw a sign informing us that the road was being paved with funds from the US Agency for International Development (USAID).

Reflection
What does the Bolivian military and US foreign spending have to do with a plant used by indigenous people for thousands of years? This could have been just a light essay describing what I learned about how another culture uses a particular plant, if it weren’t for the United States’ War on Drugs. As part of the war on drugs, the US Drug Enforcement Administration sprays coca plantations in Latin America with pesticides, which destroy other crops and poison people living nearby. The US is now trying to encourage cocaleros (farmers who grow coca) to switch to other crops. Unfortunately, the alternative crops provided by the US, such as banana and pineapple trees, take longer to bear fruit and aren’t as profitable. Cocaleros have been fighting the forced and coerced eradication of their crops and livelihoods, leading to sometimes violent confrontations with their government. Nonethess, the US government is spending hundreds of millions of dollars in aid to Bolivia with the goal of eradicating the coca fields.

Question
Should coca leaves be treated differently from tobacco leaves and coffee beans? How would you feel if coca leaves were sold in your corner store? Who should decide how coca leaves are regulated?