Paradox

Tudo brasileiro tem uma dosis de ser safado...e tudo americano tem uma dosis de ser belicoso. 

Coronavirus (Em Português abaixo)

After living in Brazil for three months, I had to depart in a hurry for fear that the State of Rio de Janeiro would close all entry and exit points. While on the plane home, I experienced a sort of déjà vu. I had lived through this sort of stressful situation before, when I was forced to leave Puebla, Mexico. On September 19, 2017, while I was visiting the beautiful church of Our Lady of the Remedies in Cholula, a 7.1 earthquake struck the town. The church began to fall apart. With nowhere to run because the church was atop a high hill, I stood there and watched as the main tower collapsed before my eyes. I felt at the time that this would “bye-bye” for me, too. It was a traumatic experience. Luckily, though, nothing happened to me. But everyone in the city had to leave because of the expectation that another quake would come. And, sure enough, another earthquake hit Puebla. But I was already gone.

I also thought about the aftermath of 9/11, when flights into (and within) the United States were cancelled or disrupted. I was in costa Rica, and again luckily, I was able to return home safely. But on the flight home, I recall feeling afraid that a terrorist could highjack the plane or explode it. Of course, I was not alone in feeling this way.

So last week, once again, I found myself on a plane, leaving for home in a hurry. I worried that this imperceptible, yet powerful and potentially lethal, virus could strike me. And worse, it could strike me in the plane or at the airport or in the taxi on my way home or even while sunbathing on the beaches of my beloved Rio de Janeiro.  

I was lucky to make it out of Brazil just before Rio was locked down. Now, I am back at home again. And as silly as it may sound, I am again realizing that there is nothing better than being at home. I missed my bed. I missed my pillow. I missed my city. I feel safe once more.

This crisis will pass. Different crises will come. But for now, I am staying at home—as you should, too.

Coronavírus

Depois de morar no Brasil por três meses, tive que sair com pressa, com medo de que o Estado do Rio de Janeiro fechasse todos os pontos de entrada e saída. Enquanto estava no avião para casa, experimentei uma espécie de déjà vu. Eu já havia passado por esse tipo de situação estressante antes, quando fui forçado a deixar Puebla, no México. Um 19 de setembro de 2017, enquanto visitava a bela igreja de Nossa Senhora dos Remédios em Cholula, um terremoto de 7,1 atingiu a cidade. A igreja começou a desmoronar. Sem eu ter para onde correr porque a igreja estava no topo de uma colina alta, fiquei ali e vi a torre principal desabar diante dos meus olhos. Naquele momento, senti que isso também seria um “bye-bye” para mim. Foi uma experiência traumática. Felizmente, nada aconteceu comigo. Mas todos na cidade tiveram que sair por causa da expectativa de que outro terremoto ocorresse. E, com certeza, outro terremoto atingiu Puebla. Mas eu já tinha ido embora.

Também pensei nas consequências depois do 11 de setembro, quando os voos para (e dentro) dos Estados Unidos foram suspensos ou interrompidos. Eu estava na Costa Rica, e mais uma vez, felizmente, eu consegui voltar para casa com segurança. Mas no voo para casa, lembro-me de ter medo de que um terrorista pudesse atacar o avião ou explodi-lo no ar. Claro, eu não estava sozinho em me sentir assim.

Então, na semana passada, mais uma vez, eu me encontrei em um avião, saindo para casa com pressa. Eu estava preocupado que esse vírus imperceptível, mas poderoso e potencialmente letal, pudesse me atingir. E pior, poderia me atingir no avião ou no aeroporto ou no táxi a caminho de casa ou até mesmo enquanto tomava sol nas praias do meu amado Rio de Janeiro.

Tive a sorte de sair do Brasil pouco antes do Rio ser fechado. Agora, estou de volta em casa novamente. E por mais bobo que possa parecer, estou novamente percebendo que não há nada melhor do que estar em casa. Eu senti falta da minha cama. Eu senti falta do meu travesseiro. Eu senti falta da minha cidade. Eu me sinto seguro mais uma vez.

Essa crise vai passar. Diferentes crises virão. Mas, por enquanto, estou em casa - como vocês deveriam também.

Lula Defiant/Desafiador

As reported in the Brazilian newspaper O Globo, the Superior Electoral Court (TSE) has banned two campaign ads sponsored by the Workers Party (Partido dos Trabalhadores, or PT) that had aired on television over the weekend. In explaining the TSE’s decision, Minister Carlos Horbach noted that “the TV spots ‘confuse the voter and create an emotional state of doubt’ not only on the candidacy, but also on the authority of the Electoral Justice, which on Friday decided that the PT is prevented from competing.” Yet, it is increasingly clear that the leader of the PT, Lula da Silva, respects neither the TSE nor the rule of law itself. He remains defiant, insistently campaigning for the presidency. The appropriate authority must make — and enforce — a final ruling on his eligibility, and this must be done as soon as possible. Otherwise, the impression that Brazilian election law is either unclear or malleable may take hold, and a dangerous precedent may become established. 

Lula Desafiador

Conforme relatado no jornal brasileiro O Globo, o Tribunal Superior Eleitoral (TSE) proibiu dois anúncios de campanha patrocinados pelo Partido dos Trabalhadores (PT) que foram ao ar na televisão no sábado. Ao explicar a decisão do TSE, o ministro Carlos Horbach observou que “os anúncios televisivos confundem o eleitor e criam um estado emocional de dúvida” não apenas sobre a candidatura, mas também sobre a autoridade da Justiça Eleitoral, que na sexta-feira decidiu que o PT é impedido de competir ”. No entanto, está cada vez mais claro que o líder do PT, Lula da Silva, não respeita nem o TSE nem o próprio Estado de Direito. Ele permanece desafiador, insistentemente em campanha pela presidência. A autoridade apropriada deve fazer - e impor - uma decisão final sobre sua elegibilidade, e isso deve ser feito o quanto antes. Caso contrário, a impressão de que a lei eleitoral brasileira é imprecisa ou maleável pode se consolidar e um precedente perigoso pode se estabelecer.

Personas con Discapacidad en Colombia

(English Version Below)

El 3 de enero de 2018, Juan Pablo Salazar informó en el periódico colombiano El Tiempo que las personas con discapacidad no serán contadas por el Departamento Administrativo Nacional de Estadísticas (DANE) debido a restricciones presupuestarias. Este es un desarrollo verdaderamente vergonzoso. No es un problema presupuestario, sino más bien una cuestión de prioridades. La misión de DANE debe ser asegurar un recuento exacto, y la decisión de excluir a los discapacitados imposibilita los esfuerzos para construir una sociedad más inclusiva en Colombia, y asi dando un mal ejemplo para esfuerzos similares en América Latina.

Handicapped People in Colombia

On January 3, 2018, Juan Pablo Salazar reported in the Colombian newspaper El Tiempo that handicapped people will not be counted by the National Administrative Department of Statistics (DANE) due to budgetary constraints. This is a truly shameful development. It is not a budget issue, but rather a matter of priorities. The mission of SEN must be to ensure an accurate count, and the decision to exclude the handicapped undermines efforts to build a more inclusive society in Colombia, and set a bad example for similar efforts across Latin America.

Long Live La Canción Criolla!

(Spanish Version Below)

Recently, while reading about the evolution of salsa back in the 1960s, I found myself thinking of Peru and its lovely, poetic, romantic musical tradition called Canción Criolla. Although it incorporates a variety of genres and originates mainly in the coastal region, Canción Criolla has come to represent the cultural identity of the whole nation. Each year, on October 31, when much of the world celebrates Halloween, Peru celebrates this distinctive style of music with Día de la Canción Criolla. 

Yet, a generational shift is taking place that threatens this tradition. Increasingly, younger generations organize and prepare to celebrate Halloween far in advance, seeking to dress in costumes and emulate the youth of the United States. As a result, Día de la Canción Criolla may be dying. Those who celebrate it are fewer and older each year, and younger Peruvians are distancing themselves from this celebration, which they regard as a celebration for older people, for their parents or grandparents. Indeed, we may be witnessing the slow disappearance of a key aspect of Peru’s cultural identity. 

This phenomenon is not an isolated case affecting only Peru. It is difficult to reverse cultural trends, particularly those that are influenced by US popular culture. While not exclusive to the United States, Halloween is nonetheless a successful US export to Peru -- and to many other Latin American nations. It comes with its own language and its own cultural attributes, and it is in Peru to stay. It would be futile to try to prevent Peru’s young people from celebrating Halloween, and that it not something I would even want to do. I am merely calling attention to the fact that as Halloween gradually supersedes Día de la Canción Criolla, it is endangering a distinctive element of Peruvian culture. Canción Criolla is worthy of preservation.

It may be worthwhile to look to the Spaniards, who have more experience with cultural preservation of the sort I am recommending. Way back in 1894, for example, they created La Real Academia Española (RAE), an institution whose mission is to ensure the purity of the Spanish language. The RAE works to ensure the accuracy of translations, bringing linguistic unity within and among Spain’s territories. Although the contemporary proliferation of terms related to information technology causes difficulties, the loose use of English words remains rare in Spain today.  

The vitality of longstanding traditions is essential to the survival of any culture. But how can a cultural tradition be kept alive?

While reading about Salsa, I learned that it originated in Cuba, where it was called Guaracha. The greats like Celia Cruz, Tito Puente, and Fania All-Stars all recognized that Guaracha was being dismissed by the youth, who associated its rhythms with “old people.” This resulted in a revivifying adaptation, an evolution of the art form, as these great artists began singing and playing Guaracha in new ways and with a new style to appeal to a new generation.

Something similar occurred with Vallenatos, a melodic song form that originated in the northeastern part of Colombia and that today is celebrated and heard throughout the country and, indeed, around the world. The essential Vallenatos melody was associated with “old people” and regarded as provincial music of the peasantry -- until Carlos Vives began to adapt it. Vives added instruments here and there and, without changing the basic musical structure of Vallenatos, he began performing it with a new style. He was heavily criticized at the time by the “old guard,” but Vallenato did not die out. On the contrary, it is now widely recognized as an essential component of Colombia’s cultural heritage. 

For their part, the Argentinians have been successful in keeping their traditions of Tango and Milonga afloat, if not quite alive. The Paraguayans are reviving their Polka dance, but will they be able to keep it alive forever? Brazilians have no need to worry about the survival of Samba. As the famous Brazilian composer Nelson Sargento wrote, “Samba agoniza mas não morre, alguem sempre te socorre” (“Samba agonizes but does not die, someone always is rescuing you”). The contagious and ever-happy rhythm of Samba is an inseparable part of the Brazilian identity; it is alive and kicking.  

Record companies, writers, singers, intellectuals, and even the Peruvian government itself should work together to find ways to preserve Canción Criolla. But perhaps more importantly, La Canción Criolla needs to evolve. It is out of touch with the younger generations. Its singers continue to sing the same old melodies and reproduce the static forms. How much milk can you get from the same old cow? Great singers like Eva Ayllon, Susana Baca, and Cecilia Barrasa have immortalized songs of Canción Criolla. But who is writing Canción Criolla theses days? Who is doing what Los Kipus, Arturo “Sambo” Cavero, and Manuel Donaire did back in their days to impregnate the popular culture with their melodies? Who is signing Canción Criolla in new ways and with a new style that will appeal to the next generation?

The increasing popularity of Halloween and the fickleness of today’s youth must not be used as excuses to let Canción Criolla die. Que VIVA la Canción Criolla!  


Que Viva La Canción Criolla

Recientemente, al leer acerca de la evolución de la salsa en la década de los 60s, me encontré pensando en el Perú y en su Canción Criolla, aquella música encantadora, poética y romántica. Aunque esta música incorpora una variedad de géneros y se origina principalmente en la región costera, La Canción Criolla ha llegado a representar la identidad cultural de toda la nación. Cada año, el 31 de octubre, cuando gran parte del mundo celebra Halloween, el Perú celebra este estilo distintivo de la música con El Día de la Canción Criolla. 

Sin embargo, está ocurriendo un cambio generacional que amenaza con esta tradición. Cada vez más, las generaciones más jóvenes organizan y se preparan con mucha anticipación para Halloween, vistiéndose en disfraces y emulando a la juventud de los Estados Unidos. Como resultado de ello, el Día de la Canción Criolla está muriendo. Cada año, hoy en día aquellos que lo celebran son grupos de gente de avanzada edad o ancianos, y los peruanos más jóvenes se están distanciando de esta celebración, que consideran una celebración para las personas mayores, para sus padres o abuelos. De hecho, podemos estar presenciando la lenta desaparición de un aspecto clave de la identidad cultural del Perú.

Es difícil revertir tales tendencias culturales, particularmente aquellas que están influenciadas por la cultura popular estadounidense. Aunque no es exclusivo de los Estados Unidos, Halloween es sin embargo una exitosa exportación de EE.UU. hacia el Perú. Viene con su propia lengua y sus propios atributos culturales; y está en el Perú para quedarse. Sería inútil tratar de evitar que los jóvenes peruanos celebren Halloween, y eso no es algo que yo quisiera causar. Simplemente hago un llamado de atención sobre el hecho de que como Halloween sustituye gradualmente el Día de la Canción Criolla, esto está poniendo en peligro un elemento distintivo de la cultura peruana. Canción Criolla es digno de preservación.

Vale la pena mirar a los españoles, que tienen más experiencia con la preservación cultural de su lengua y tradición cultural, que aquí estoy recomendando. En 1894, por ejemplo, crearon La Real Academia Española (RAE), una institución cuya misión era/es garantizar la pureza de la lengua española. La RAE trabaja para asegurar la exactitud de las traducciones, trayendo la unidad lingüística dentro y entre los  países Hispanohablantes. Aunque la proliferación contemporánea de términos relacionados con la tecnología de la informática causan dificultades, el uso de palabras en inglés es poco común en España.

La vitalidad de las tradiciones arraigadas en nuestra nación son esenciales mantenerlas para la supervivencia de cualquier cultura. Pero, ¿cómo puede mantenerse viva una tradición cultural?

Mientras leía acerca de la evolución de la Salsa, aprendí que se originó en Cuba, donde se llamaba Guaracha. Los grandes como Celia Cruz, Tito Puente y La Fania All-Stars reconocieron que la juventud era indiferente a los ritmos de la Guaracha; que aquellos ritmos se asociaba con "los ancianos"., de ahí, que los grandes artistas empezaron a cantar y tocar Guaracha de una nueva manera y con un estilo diferente, más a tono con una nueva generación. Esto dio lugar a una adaptación revilitante, a una evolución de su forma artística, a la salsa.

Algo similar ocurrió con el Vallenato, una canción melódica que se originó en el noreste de Colombia y que hoy se celebra y se escucha en todo el país y, de hecho, en todo el mundo. La melodía tradicional del Vallenato también se asoció con los "ancianos" y muchos los consideraban como una música popular campesina - hasta que Carlos Vives comenzó a adaptarla. Vives agregó instrumentos aquí y allá y, sin cambiar la estructura musical básica del Vallenato, comenzó a tocarla con un nuevo estilo. En su momento fue muy criticado por la "vieja escuela", pero el Vallenato no murió. Por el contrario, ahora es ampliamente reconocido como un componente esencial del patrimonio cultural de Colombia.

Los argentinos, por su parte, han tenido éxito en mantener viva, o a flote diría yo, las tradiciones del Tango y la Milonga. Los brasileños no tienen necesidad de preocuparse por la supervivencia de la Samba. Como escribió el famoso compositor brasileño Nelson Sargento, "Samba agoniza mas não morre, alguem sempre te socorre…" ( "Samba agoniza pero no muere, alguien siempre te rescata"). El ritmo contagioso y siempre feliz de la samba es una parte inseparable de la identidad brasileña; Está vivito y coleando!

Las disqueras, escritores, cantantes, intelectuales e incluso el propio gobierno peruano deben trabajar juntos para encontrar maneras de preservar la Canción Criolla. Pero quizás más importante, La Canción Criolla necesita evolucionar. Está fuera de contacto con las generaciones más jóvenes. Sus cantantes siguen cantando las mismas viejas melodías y reproduciendo sus mismas formas estáticas. ¿Cuánta leche puedes seguir ordeñando de la misma vaca vieja? Grandes cantantes como Eva Ayllon, Susana Baca y Cecilia Barrasa han inmortalizado canciones de la Canción Criolla. Pero, ¿Hoy en día, quiénes está escribiendo Canción Criolla? ¿Quiénes están haciendo lo que Los Kipus, Arturo "Sambo" Cavero, y Manuel Donaire hicieron en sus días, para impregnar en la cultura popular sus melodías? ¿Quiénes cantan Canción Criolla con un nuevo estilo para atraer a una nueva generación?

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La creciente popularidad de Halloween y la inconstancia de la juventud de hoy, no debe ser una excusa para dejar morir La Canción Criolla. Que VIVA la Canción Criolla!

Why Bother? ¿Por qué molestarse?

(English version below)

3 de Agosto de 2015

El presidente de Venezuela Nicolás Maduro ha decidido deportar a todos los Colombianos viviendo en su país. Culpando a otros en vez de competentemente  afrontar las verdaderas causas que incrementaron malestar social y extrema criminalidad en Venezuela, han hecho del presidente Maduro: Un niñeto rabioso con inflexiones infantiles, un tipo absurdo y totalmente injusto. 

De acuerdo a un articulo recientemente publicado en la revista Semana de Colombia, el gobierno Colombiano ha estado buscando ayuda ante la Organización de Estados Americanos (OEA), la cual se ha negado a intervenir/ayudar. Reusándose a apelar leyes internacionales aplicables al caso o hacer cumplir provisiones de la Carta Social de las Américas, de manera que pueda influenciar su poder de institución en Venezuela, y parar las deportaciones. La OEA nuevamente demuestra que es una entidad irrelevante como organización internacional. Cada vez que la OEA fracasa/rechaza dar ayuda a uno de sus países miembros en crisis; yo me pregunto, ¿por qué cualquier país se toma la molestia de mantener siendo miembro de una organización irresponsable, inútil e incapaz?.  Seriamente, ¿por qué la molestia?             

  

President Nicolás Maduro has decided to deport all Colombians from Venezuela. Scapegoating Colombians rather than addressing the actual root causes of the increasingly widespread criminality and social unrest in Venezuela is vintage Maduro: childish, absurd, and unjust. 

According to an article recently published in the Colombian magazine Semana, the Colombian government has sought the help of the Organization of American States (OAS), which has so far declined to intervene. By refusing to enforce the provisions of the Social Charter of the Americas or to appeal to applicable international law in order to influence Venezuela and stop the deportations, the OAS is once again demonstrating its irrelevance as an international organization. Each time the OAS fails to support one of its member countries in a crisis, I wonder why any country would want to remain a member of this feckless organization.  Really, why bother?

Quechua Poetry

(Versión en español debajo) 

A recent edition of the Peruvian newspaper El Comercio carried an article about a Quechua-language poetry competition sponsored by the Universidad Nacional Federico Villarreal. It is truly noteworthy for a well-known university in Peru to support the preservation of the Quechua language in this way—and, indirectly, to support social integration.

I took the opportunity to contact the organizer directly in order to find out more about the competition. I asked him whether information is available on the university’s website. His response was, “No, you can only find it on Face.” Assuming he was referring to Facebook, I looked there. Nothing!

I can imagine what the university is trying to achieve with this competition. And it is terrific that El Comercio has called attention to it. But without an adequate promotional effort behind it, the Quechua poetry competition cannot achieve its full potential.

En una edición reciente del diario El Comercio encontré un artículo sobre un concurso de poesía en idioma Quechua auspiciada por la Universidad Nacional Federico Villarreal. Que una universidad tan conocida en el Perú este patrocinando la preservación del idioma Quechua de esta manera y, que indirectamente, promueve ayuda a la integración social; es verdaderamente digno de notarse.

Tomé la oportunidad de contactarme directamente con el organizador de manera que pueda tener más información sobre el concurso. Pregunté si es que tal información para el concurso estaba en la página Web de la universidad. La respuesta fue, “No, pero lo puedes encontrar en el Face”. Asumiendo que él interlocutor se refería a Facebook, busque allí y no encontré nada.

Imagino lo que la Universidad intenta lograr con tal concurso, y es magnífico que El Comercio lo haya publicado. Pero, sin un esfuerzo de promoción adecuada para impulsar lo, el concurso de poesía Quechua no alcanzará su pleno potencial.