That evening, some of us ventured
from our homes, enticed by news that some chicken had arrived
in nearby butcher shops. We walked down the main avenue of our
neighborhood and watched as groups of boys played soccer using
stones that had been placed in the road as part of the blockades.
At night those stones become goal posts.
As the deaths continue to mount, people’s tone is changing.
We sit around sharing what we’ve heard from friends in different
neighborhoods, on the radio or TV. One neighbor, who has never
shown any sympathy for the campesino or indigenous movements,
held a hand to her mouth and winced as her daughter told me of
another series of deaths. In the early hours of Wednesday morning,
nearly 2,500 miners continued their trek from Potosi towards the
capital, where they intended to join mounting protests. In the
community of Patacamaya, the miners were confronted by the military
as it tried to prevent them from entering La Paz. At least two
are dead, and 15 wounded.
The mother broke in to her daughter’s report: “We
went to the market when it opened for a few hours this morning.
It was so horrible to see the poor women. They bought a carrot
or two. An onion. And then we saw the wealthy families who bought
dozens of eggs and other food. Soon the poor will start to starve
to death. All the prices have doubled [because of the siege].”
Among the 74 deaths reported in these days is at least one soldier.
He refused to follow an order to shoot into a crowd of protesters.
So his superior officer executed him on the spot with a shot in
the head.
That death has become a symbol of mindless violence and, for
many, a sign that the administration does not value human life,
especially the lives of the poor.
Ever since President Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada, or “Goni,”
declared on Tuesday that he would not give in to the growing pressure
to step down, people have been trying to predict what will happen
next. The U.S. government issued statements that it would stand
behind Goni and his bid to remain in power. Both administrations
claim this is an effort to preserve Bolivian democracy, even as
the Bolivian government employs undemocratic means to crush dissent.
Two papers, one left-leaning and one right, El Pulso
and El Diario, made statements to the effect that the
Bolivian people had the right to demand Goni’s resignation.
Wednesday morning, government officials began pulling them from
the stands. Television stations have already announced that if
they go off the air, the public should assume it was forced. Worried
listeners have started forming vigilance groups to try to protect
the press. Masked men blew up Radio Pio XII’s transmission
tower in Oruro. Radio Pachamama in El Alto has received multiple
threats to shut down. Only days ago we were frustrated with the
lack of coverage the international press was giving events in
Bolivia. All that has changed. Pretty soon we may be relying on
the international press to know what’s happening here in
the country.
I asked R. her opinion. She responded, “[Goni] will eventually
have to resign. He just will. That’s how it’s always
happened. [Indigenous] people didn’t know how to read, to
write. There were so few schools; you had to walk for hours. They
had to struggle. The people have always had to struggle. You weren’t
allowed to study, but the people fought for their rights. The
indigenous were slaves to the masters, that’s all. But now
the people are many. They’ve studied, and now they are aware.
And one day they will govern. They are preparing themselves.”
Susan
P.S. People in Bolivia feel isolated and are always asking me
if the outside world knows what's happening here. If you would
like to send a message to people here, especially those in the
UMAVIDA network, I will compile those messages and share them
with people here so that they know they are not alone. Send it
to susanhellison@alum.wustl.edu
or simply reply to this e-mail.
The 2003 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, page
263 |
