Magazine # 85
RELEASE DATE: 2018-07-23
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EDITORIAL BY CAROLINE RISACHER

Bolivia is a paradox. It’s one of the richestlands in South America (with vast depositsof lithium, silver, tin, natural gas and more),and it’s also one of the continent’s poorestnations, with extreme income inequality. Dueto Bolivia’s varied climate and topography – from the arid altiplano to the dense rainforests of the Amazon and thedry forests of the Chaco – its plant and animal diversityis unmatched. But for the Bolivian people, these naturalresources have turned out to be both a blessing and acurse.

This curse materialised with the 16th-century arrival of the Spaniards, who tried to homogenise and dilute the diversityof indigenous identities in order to exploit these resources.This continued until recently as the criolla upper classreinvented Bolivian identity upon the central notion ofbeing mestizo, and indigenous people were thwartedunder the assimilatory and reductive term of campesino

Since 2006 and the election of the current president,Evo Morales (the first indigenous president in the history of Bolivia), the country has had to grapple with thesecontradictions which have been defining it for hundredsof years: How to respect and value the diversity of ethnic particularities while at the same time uniting a nation around common ideas and values such as vivir bien? How to protect nature and culture and yet still exploit naturalresources whilst addressing environmental concerns andprotecting people’s rights? And how to build a unifying Bolivian national identity?

This issue of Bolivian Express deals with these weighty contradictions but also with the smaller concerns that surround us and are part of our everyday life: thealtiplano weather where one wears short sleeves at 4pm and a winter coat by 7pm, the eco-trucks carting away garbage whilst spewing dark gasoline emissions, the grumpy caserita who begrudgingly does you a favour byselling you a chocolate bar and the thousands of otheridiosyncrasies which make Bolivia the place we know andlove – but don’t always quite understand.But there are also a few less obvious contradictions thatare much more problematic and paint a darker Bolivia.Prisons here are places where children sometimes live,exiting and entering freely while their parents stay lockedinside. Despite achieving gender parity in the highestinstitutional offices and ranking second in the world infemale representation in government, Bolivia still hashigh rates of domestic violence, femicides and sexualharassment. Ultimately, to answer these questions and move past itsentangled history, Bolivia will have to base its future onlived and shared experiences; on its unique tapestry ofparticularities, specificities and richness; and on newlyforged paths that allow modernity and indigeneity tomove forward together, whilst the coountry navigates thecontradictions of its own identity.

A Fisherman’s Life
July 23/2018| articles

Photos: Katherina Sourine

Visiting the Chilaya community on Lake Titicaca

The boat rocked gently and the crisp morning air facilitated a sense of clarity in the experience: tangling fish out of the net, slipping them into a bucket and enjoying the view of the mountains. The Chilaya community in Huatajata, located on Lake Titicaca, is striving to share its livelihood with tourists from Bolivia and abroad by offering an interactive experience called ‘Fisherman for a Day.’

We left around 6am from La Paz, accompanied by Jorge Roberto Salinas from Waliki Adventures, in order to arrive at Huatajata at 9am. During the scenic teleférico ride up to El Alto, embellished by the sunrise over the Andes, Salinas talked about how he discovered the tour. ‘I was introduced to the project by a friend who shared the idea with me, knowing I had the professional resources to support it,’ he said.


Upon arrival in Huatajata, we were welcomed into the community, which included members of the village as well as tourism students from the Technological Institute of El Alto, who were in Huatajata to complete the work-study component of their education. We jumped straight into our first activity, fishing, accompanied by Edwin Catari, a local beekeeper and fisherman, and tourism student Nelson Casas.

Casas explained that amongst the five species of fish that live in Lake Titicaca, three are native, while two were introduced in from abroad. The three native species include carachi, ispi and mauri. Trout and pejerrey, on the other hand, were introduced to the lake via the United States and Argentina, respectively. And although these fish now comprise a major role in both Peruvian and Bolivian cuisine, they’ve taken over Lake Titicaca, resulting in a precipitous decrease in the population – and sometimes extinction – of the lake’s native stock.

As we hauled our net in and began untangling fish, Casas explained the importance of sustainability for the lake and the surrounding region and how his work here balances his love for tourism along with the promotion of sustainable lifestyles.



‘We want to share our way of life, and we find value from the experience of others.’

—Remberto Loza





‘We live in a society that is destroying its own habitat, and I want to conserve the world around me,’ Casas said as he threw a fish from the net to a nearby bird. And even the seemingly pristine Lake Titicaca isn’t immune from this destruction. Lead and mercury levels in the lake have been rising in the past four years, while trash from nearby cities accumulates on its shores. To combat this pollution, the Bolivian and Peruvian governments signed a pact in 2016 and pledged more than $500 million to clean up the area through 2025.


A fisherman from Huatajata can collect 10 to 15 pounds of fish per day, depending on the weather and the season. We caught slightly less than that – due to to the full moon the night before, according to Catari. When we returned to shore, we were met by others who were preparing to cook, some making juice while others were preparing fish caught the day before with diced vegetables. Others stood around a small fire surrounded by rocks heating up from the flames, preparing to make trucha a la piedra (or p’ap’i, in Aymara).


When the rocks were sufficiently hot, we rearranged them flat on the ground so that the dried fish, vegetables and potatoes could be set atop, layer by layer, to cook. Once we added three layers, eucalyptus leaf was added on top and along with a blanket to trap in the aromas.


‘Our grandmothers and grandfathers were extremely hard workers, cultivating vegetables, building houses, fishing,’ Wilma Condori Choquehuanca, a tourism director who works with the village, explained. ‘It is through them that we have the knowledge we use daily.’


We later disassembled the coals and feasted on the fish. Chef José Carlos Ramos Mamani explained that he has been cooking professionally for more than 12 years, but found this job especially interesting because it gave him the opportunity to cook with fish from the lake, a skill that he has been hoping to develop and share with others.

The rich lunch was followed by an excursion to extract honey from the village apiary, bee suits thankfully provided. The village people hopes to sell the honey once they can create consistently greater quantities, along with various artisanal products from neighbouring communities.


‘The three parts of community tourism are the native population, the private businesses we partner with and the public,’ said Remberto Loza, a Huatajata resident. ‘We want to share our way of life, and we find value from the experience of others.’



‘We live in a society that is destroying its own habitat, and I want to conserve the world around me.’

—Nelson Casas




The idea of ‘Fisherman for a Day’ was birthed last year when the community hosted a fishing festival, and both Bolivians and foreigners attended. It became evident that the community’s daily life could be shared with others to spur economic activity in Huatajata. Now villagers offer a hands-on and personal experience that allows tourists to learn about Andean life on the lake, help cook lunch and interact with community members.

Visiting the Chilaya community provides an experience which truly taps into the essence of why we travel: to meet new people, to experience different ways of life and to learn new things. It’s an experience that will leave guests with their bellies full and a newfound enthusiasm to learn more.

‘Luchas para la transición’
July 23/2018| articles

Photo: Jack Francklin

The fight between society and technology

Luchas para la transición, a book written by Jorge Viaña Uzedia last year, provides a fascinating insight into socialism in Bolivia. The book tackles modern issues such as technological development and its contradictory consequences for Bolivian society and the upholding of a traditional culture rooted in nature. Viaña, who is the coordinator and leading investigator of alternatives to development and emancipative education of the Instituto Internacional de Integración del Convenio Andrés Bello, has a passion for the subject and a fascinating outlook on modern day society under Morales’ socialist government.

This recent publication follows Viaña’s previous book released in 2010, called Construyendo fundamentos en la lucha por la construcción de un Socialismo Comunitario, whereby he brings into question the works of the German philosopher and economist Karl Marx.The previous book lays out some of the basic political premises from which he builds on in his new work to sustain that ‘technology reproduces domination and exploitation and so risks the degradation of the human being.’




‘Technology reproduces domination and exploitation and so risks the degradation of the human being.’

—Jorge Viaña Uzedia




By walking around La Paz and particularly Zona Sur, you can see that there is a surge in technological development, as well as in in transport and the construction of residential and commercial buildings. There are six teleférico lines at the moment, and a further five are either being constructed or at the planning stage as a strategy to reduce traffic in the city. A more controversial technological development is the construction of a highway that will run through the Isiboro Sécure Indigenous Territory, also known as Tipnis. Now that Evo Morales has approved the construction of the road, this project will greatly affect the 14,000 people who live in the territory as well as the rich biodiversity that surrounds them. Technology will always come at a cost to society. How much cost, is a decision any government must struggle with.

Viaña’s book stresses the need for a thorough analysis of technology in modern day Bolivia and for a non-sterile debate on socialism. There are advantages of cutting-edge technology in Bolivia. The German company ACI- Systems GmbH, for example, has recently set about extracting the lithium from the Salar de Uyuni to make lithium batteries for electric cars. Since electric cars are environmentally friendly, they are fundamental in an age where climate change is a pressing issue. Viaña believes the extraction of lithium is positive for Bolivia and a good use of technology. The most important question for him when analysing these developments is: ‘what type of technology is it and does it exploit human interests?’

In Bolivia, however, construction and technology can provide a contradiction with vivir bien, an ancient indigenous paradigm that stresses the importance of living in harmony with nature. The concept is based on the notion of the ‘centrality of life’, which places nature as the most important element of a community and the human as the least important. Pachamama is celebrated here in Bolivia and as a representation of nature and its importance for humankind. According to Viaña, explains that Marx believed that the land was a prolongation of humans’ hands. This is a concept shared by the Bolivians who abide by the principles of Pachamama.




We should change our vision of the relation between nature and society and reset it with through the praxis of history.




‘We should change our vision of the relation between nature and society and reset it through the praxis of history,’ Viaña says. Perhaps this relationship could be improved by bringing together the dualistic visions of anthropocentrism on the one hand and ecocentrism on the other. By mentioning ‘the praxis of history’, Viaña alludes to the practical, not theoretical, evaluation of human history that can give us a better understanding of nature and help us create a community for both nature and human society.

Beso de Chola
July 23/2018| articles

Photos: Antonio Suárez and Alejandra Sanchez

The art of empowerment: feminism, sexuality and the indigenous image

Since its conception in 2016, Beso de Chola, a performance piece and accompanying photo display and video, has been exhibited and debated around the world. I met with its creators, multidisciplinary artists Ivanna Terrazas (a.k.a. María María) and Adriana Bravo, to find out about the controversial performance’s origins and its continued resonance two years on.

Although most well-known for the image of two cholitas kissing in front of the guards on Plaza Murillo, Beso de Chola is only a part of what was a three-day performance in which Bravo and Terrazas transformed themselves into cholitas. Both artists identify as mestizas, and they say that for them the experience of wearing traditional Bolivian indigenous clothes, jewelry and braids was significant. Over the three days, they targeted some of La Paz’s busiest and most recognisable locations – including Avenida Camacho, La Paz’s historic centre and the teleférico, as well as attending a party – accompanied by two hidden photographers. The resulting photos and videos captured Bravo and Terrazas’ passionate kisses as well as the public’s reactions, which ranged from shock and confusion to willful ignorance.

I asked Bravo and Terrazas how such a controversial and influential work came to fruition, and what its intended purpose had been. They must have been asked similar questions many times before, because they both immediately launched into the story of how they had been on a search for seafood one night when they stumbled upon a party near La Paz’s general cemetery. It was full of cholitas drinking and dancing in beautiful yellow dresses, some with tattoos and piercings. They were both taken aback when one partygoer took Terrazas’ hand, unashamedly expressing her desire. Bravo explained how this had been their ‘lightbulb’ moment. ‘When I realised it, it was crazy, it’s like the first kiss, like the loss of innocence,’ she said. ‘And it’s something obvious, if you think about it within any feminist framework. Everyone, mixed race, indigenous, from European descent, kids, old people, we all desire. And when this happens to us, we have to think about it, and this is Beso de Chola.’




‘We don’t just want people to stare at the picture, we want it to open their mind.’

—Ivanna Terrazas




The artists explained some of their aspirations for the performance piece, how racial and class divides in Bolivia were a major motivating factor. As they put it, they wanted to shatter the collective public image of the cholita, that of a proper, matriarchal woman devoid of desire. ‘People think of indigenous women as asexual, like children, like old people,’ Bravo said. However, she was also keen to outline the duality of the issue, that the indigenous status of rich cholitas gives them a certain freedom that white women of the same economic class just do not have. ‘Economic empowerment implies a sexual liberation, and the kiss between two indigenous women in traditional dress is powerful,’ Bravo said. ‘So there are things happening in Bolivia that couldn’t happen in Mexico or Peru.’ Nearly two-thirds of Bolivians identify themselves as indigenous, significantly more than any other South American country, and this creates an opportunity for indigenous empowerment that is unique to Bolivia.

That the photographs and video depict two women kissing is an element which should not be ignored, and which elicited a variety of reactions from the public. One only has to scroll through the Facebook comments to see the controversy they caused, and Bravo and Terrazas said they were handed pamphlets telling them to go to church or were asked to go to a hotel by people in the street. At one point they were even accused of plagiarism by a Peruvian artist, compelling some other Bolivians to defend Beso de Chola. It seems that national pride, in this case, overrode homophobia. It’s clear that Bravo and Terrazas believe passionately in the power of images to provoke change. ‘We don’t just want people to stare at the picture, we want it to open their mind,’ Terrazas said. ‘And even the laws – now Evo Morales and the mayor are saying these things and coming up with positive ideas. And even if we contributed to 1% of this, we have transformed something.’



‘The kiss is an act of resistance, like an act of tenderness in a violent world.’

—Adriana Bravo



Terrazas and Bravo spoke with warmth and eloquence about their art, which has a lot of personal resonance for the both of them. Near the end of our interview, Bravo made a statement summarising the mark they hoped Beso de Chola would leave. ‘The kiss is an act of resistance, like an act of tenderness in a violent world,’ she said. Beso de Chola is an example of the possibilities of contemporary Bolivian art, and one hopes it’s not the last collaboration between these two innovative artists.


A full range of pictures, as well as photographs of the process and the performance video, are available to view at besodechola.wordpress.com.