
June 21 marks the Aymara New Year here in Bolivia. Coinciding with the Winter Solstice in the Southern Hemisphere, it is an important holiday for many of the indigenous groups in the region, a time where agriculturalists carry out rituals to appease two gods, Pachamama and Inti, in hopes of a successful harvest. A large celebration is carried out at Tiwanaku, a pre-Incan capital on lake Titicaca, as well as in communities across Bolivia.
Official government recognition of this holiday first came in 2009, following a supreme decree by President Evo Morales recognizing this day as a national holiday. This was an important event in Bolivian history, serving as a milemarker on the road to indigenous recognition, helping to bring ancient traditions back to the center of life here.
The reemergence of traditions and practices from before conquest has changed the face of Bolivia in seemingly countless ways. Perhaps most importantly, it has helped bolster a sense of indigenous pride, as young people are finding ways to reconnect with their ancestors. Today, many Bolivians are experiencing the ways in which past notions of the sacred intersect with currently prevailing Catholic belief systems and practices. That exchange can be both exciting and challenging to experience.
Bolivia has always been a place of sacred spaces. From Tiwanaku and Lake Titicaca to the many churches and cathedrals dotting the landscapes of communities here, one often wonders how so many varied traditions can be found in one place. Perhaps it is this mix of beliefs and practices that brings so many travelers here to explore their spirituality in their own unique ways.
Every individual provides her or his own piece to the kaleidoscope of spiritual life. As we celebrate a new Aymara year, take in the shapes and colors of this wondrous mix dancing together in Bolivia. Join us as we navigate the ways in which beliefs and traditions guide social and political life here, and uncover many spiritual wonders that inhabit this amazing place.
Bolivian Politics and LGBTQ Equality
“Many people keep it in secrecy...the couples that want a job, to maintain their economic status, opt to hide their relationships.” - Julia, Mujeres Creando
“Here in Bolivia, we’re more advanced in the legal and political side, where as the cultural side is way behind.” - Karissa Singh, Capacitación y Derechos Ciudadanos
Avenida Montes, a bustling, taxi-covered main road in the center of La Paz, is home to Privilegio, one of Bolivia’s few gay bars. This prominent and flashy symbol of LGBTQ existence goes unhidden, standing in stark contrast to the imposing San Francisco cathedral just a few blocks down the street.
The owner of the bar mentioned that he finds discrimination to be the biggest challenge for members of the country’s gay community. This may be because Catholicism is very influential in Bolivia. Almost 80% of the country’s population identifies with the Church, and given that the Catechism deems homosexual acts a sin worthy of hellfire, this is a plausible reason for anti-gay attitudes. But, just because Bolivia is a Catholic country doesn’t mean it won’t soon have laws that bring LGBTQ people closer to equality.
The idea of a very socially conservative country legalizing things like same-sex unions and creating anti-discrimination laws seems counterintuitive on the surface. But most of the countries that have legalized gay marriage show this isn’t the case. A total of 20 countries worldwide have legalized same sex marriage, and eleven of those—Belgium, Canada, Spain, Argentina, Portugal, Brazil, France, Uruguay, Luxembourg and Ireland—have a majority Catholic population.
With the exception of Ireland, which was the first nation to legalize gay marriage through a popular vote, the remainder have created these policies through their judicial systems. This demonstrates the differences between the legal and cultural sides of LGBTQ issues, and Bolivia is no different.
Capacitación y Derechos Ciudadanos (CDC; Training and Civil Rights) is one of several organizations that works on LGBTQ issues in Bolivia and is based in La Paz. The group manages legal issues relating to gender and sexual orientation, conducts research about the rights of gay individuals, and focuses on political and social advocacy as well.
Karissa Singh, a Program Officer at CDC, identifies cultural pushback as one of the biggest problems for Bolivia’s LGBTQ community. “People don’t really know what LGBTQ is, and there is discrimination and resistance,” said Singh. According to a Pew Global Attitudes study from 2013, 49% of Bolivians think homosexuality should be rejected by society.
Attitudes towards LGBTQ people change from region to region in Bolivia, with gay individuals in the countryside facing much more hostility than their peers in the city. “I think it really depends where you are,” said Singh. “If you’re in Sopocacchi, you can walk around with your partner holding hands, but if you’re in a pueblo, maybe someone’s going to try to kill you in the night.”
Bolivia’s latest Constitution, which was ratified in 2009, prohibits any discrimination based on both gender identity and sexual orientation. Despite having constitutional protection, the reality for the LGBTQ community is still different.
“People from the pueblo—where discrimination is the worst—think that homosexuality is not acceptable. The cosmovision—from that perspective it’s not accepted,” said Singh. A combination of cultural expectations, about specific roles for men and women, and religious beliefs, make life more challenging for those in more rural and traditional areas of the nation.
For lesbians, who face discrimination for both their gender and their sexual orientation, barriers in the workplace are common. A report by a UK-based development organization titled, “Unnatural, Unsuitable, Unemployed!” identifies this phenomenon in Latin America. Many of the women who detail their experiences in the study say they were fired immediately after their employers discovered their sexual orientation.
As a result, many people in the LGBTQ community remain in the closet for fear of losing their jobs. Julia, a member of Mujeres Creando, an anarcho-feminist collective in La Paz, argues this is one of the biggest challenges facing homosexual individuals and couples in Bolivia.
For same sex couples, one of the biggest obstacles is keeping their relationship hidden from the public view. “Many people keep it in secrecy. The couples that want a job, to maintain their economic status, opt to hide their relationships,” said Julia.
Additionally, there is a lack of focus on the issue from the development organizations that work in Bolivia. “Globally, something like 1% of the available funding for development is spent on LGBTQ issues,” said Singh. “It’s really hard to get funding for LGBTQ projects.”
Despite the cultural challenges that gay Bolivians face—including hate crimes, job discrimination, and social condemnation—there is proof that legal progress may be on its way.
“We work with a lot of politicians, and they're on board to make changes,” said Singh. “Here in Bolivia, we’re more advanced in the legal and political side, where as the cultural side is way behind.”
Bolivia’s Family Code, for example, is written in gender neutral language, laying a potential framework for same sex unions and marriage to be legalized in the future.
“LGBTQ people are protected in the Constitution,” Singh explains,”and in other laws that exist. It’s not great, but compared to the cultural response to LGBTQ people, I think it’s better.”
Vipassana Meditation in Bolivia
“Anger is anger. When one becomes agitated as a result of this anger, this agitation is not Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim.” S.N. Goenka
The first time I heard about Vipassana I was passing the night in the emergency waiting room of a hospital in Chile, with a Californian, a Venezuelan, and a French guy. The bus terminal was closed. We were cold, broke, and our only option was to seek refuge alongside the drunks, the crazies, and the homeless of the dusty desert town of Calama.
As we awaited our 6:00 am bus to Bolivia, we discussed travel plans. My Venezuelan amigo told me he was heading to Cochabamba to volunteer in a 'life-changing' meditation retreat. The course, he assured me, would be no walk in the park. “There are rules,” he explained, “You have to abide by five precepts: No killing, no stealing, no sex, no intoxicants, and no lies. This last rule is the hardest, which is why you're not allowed to speak for ten whole days.”
Admittedly, I had spent the previous month in a rather debaucherous share-house-turned-drug-den somewhere in San Pedro de Atacama. Rather, the month had mysteriously passed me by in a haze of hedonistic housemates and hangovers, and a lengthy spiritual retreat seemed like the perfect balm to soothe my weary body, my weary mind, and my weary soul.
For many, Vipassana retreats appear to be some kind of bizarre concentration camp, but I actually welcomed the idea of spending ten days of peace and quiet amidst the mountains of Cochabamba. The courses come with ten days of complimentary accommodation, delicious vegetarian food, and, not to mention, HOT showers. Compared with a night in an emergency room-cum-homeless shelter in one of the dodgiest pueblos in Chile, it seemed like a paradise. Oh yeah, and surely a bit of introspection couldn't do any harm.
That was almost two years ago. I've since participated in five courses, in three different countries, and to say that Vipassana has completely transformed my life for the better, would be an understatement.
Vipassana is one of India's most ancient techniques of meditation, rediscovered by Gotama Buddha more than 2500 years ago and passed down ever since as way to cultivate a harmonious mind and to lead a peaceful, happy life. The technique, however, is completely non-sectarian and encourages self-transformation through self-observation.
The official Vipassana website describes the practice as 'mental training'. “Just as we use physical exercises to improve our bodily health,” it says, “Vipassana can be used to develop a healthy mind.”
Although the technique is thousands of years old, it wasn't until the 1970s that the ten-day course gained worldwide popularity, under the direction of Vipassana teacher S.N. Goenka. Goenka began offering courses in India in 1969, and has since taught tens of thousands of people in many parts of the world. In 1982, he began to appoint assistant teachers to help him meet the growing demand for the courses. The instructions in every course remain exactly the same throughout the world, as Goenka's voice is played via audio recording, followed by a translation in the local language.
In a talk given by Goenka in Berne, Switzerland, he said, “[Vipassana] can be practiced by one and all. Everyone faces the problem of suffering. It is a universal malady which requires a universal remedy, not a sectarian one. When one suffers from anger, it's not Buddhist anger, Hindu anger, or Christian anger. Anger is anger. When one becomes agitated as a result of this anger, this agitation is not Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim. The malady is universal. The remedy must also be universal.”
Unlike many other meditation techniques, Vipassana is not taught commercially, but is instead offered free of charge. This is essential to maintaining the practice in its original, authentic form. This universal remedy is for everyone, not just for those can pay. No one involved with the organisation of the course receives material remuneration of any kind, not even to cover the cost of food and accommodation. All expenses are met by donations from students who, having completed a course and experienced its benefits, wish to give others the same opportunity.
Vipassana courses have been offered in Bolivia for more than twenty years. Roger Chavez is one of eight members on the Bolivian Vipassana committee and helps to organise the biannual ten-day courses along with other Vipassana initiatives, such as short courses for children and weekly group sittings for established meditators. He says that participation in courses has greatly increased here in Bolivia, particularly in the past three years.
“Generally the course fills up by 50% in the first week of inscriptions being open,” he says. “And we continue to see a lot more interest from foreigners, rather than nationals. In a typical course it is usually 50% foreigners and 50% Bolivians.”
Almost two years ago, I was a part of that 50% of foreigners. Perhaps like many others, I was just seeking a hot shower and a novel 'spiritual experience' to add to my list of travel tales. Instead, what I found was 4:00 am wake-up calls and ten hours of daily meditation; something profoundly confronting and, yes, I'm going to go there... Life-changing. Now I’m one of those spiritual weirdos who shares their stories about 'life-changing' mediation courses with anyone who’ll give them the time of day. And what can I say? I’ve never been happier.
For those who dare to learn this 'art of living', the next ten-day course will be held in Cochabamba from 9 - 20 September. Online inscriptions open June 13, via the official website www.dhamma.org.
Nuclear Power and the Pachamama
The Bolivian government turned heads around the world in 2010 when it introduced a controversial and ground-breaking regulation called the ‘Law of Mother Earth’. It was a revolutionary step forward in world environmental thinking which gives nature seven rights: the right to life, to diversity of life, to water, to clean air, to equilibrium, to restoration, and to pollution-free living. However, in January of 2014, President Evo Morales announced plans to build a nuclear power plant in the La Paz region of Bolivia, as part of his economic liberalisation plan. A strange turn of events, considering that Bolivia hosted an international conference on climate change in 2010, during which the Law of Mother Earth was drafted.
The environment is a major part of life for many Bolivians, both spiritually and economically. The country possesses abundant natural resources, including natural gas and lithium, and its mountainous altiplano region has great potential for hydroelectric power. But the environment isn’t only about industry, employment, and energy—it is also worshipped by a large proportion of the population. The Pachamama, the goddess of nature, is one of the most sacred gods for the indigenous Aymara and Quechua peoples. For them, she has many powers, including the abilities to provide good harvests, protect families, and grant academic and business success. Given the spiritual importance of the environment, President Morales, who is of Aymara origin, seems to be going against his indigenous roots by investing US $2 billion in a nuclear plant.
In a speech last year, Morales said, “‘We can never feel like a small country again now that we have liberated ourselves economically. With this type of investment toward atomic energy we are going to guarantee that.”’
But critics question the need for such a power plant. Cecilia Requena, an environmental activist, said, ‘tThere is not one good reason to build this plant. It makes no sense financially, environmentally, or politically.’ She also disputed how much it will end up costing: “‘[The price tag] doesn’t include other expenditures such as security, dismantling expenses, and the disposal of nuclear waste.”’
The government aims to complete the plant by 2025, and it is expected to provide between 700 and 800 megawatts of energy each year. But Requena would like to see more environmentally friendly options. “‘Bolivia is a paradise for renewables,”’, she said. “‘We would need $400 million to invest in renewables like wind, solar, and small hydroelectric plants to make the same amount of energy—a small price compared to the $2 billion which is going to be invested in the nuclear plant.”’
But financial concerns pale next to the potential for a nuclear catastrophe, and Requena is emphatic with her unease. “‘Environmentally it would be a disaster,”’, she said. ‘Why are they placing a nuclear plant next to the largest city in the country, a protected rainforest, and Lake Titicaca?”’ And she emphasized another environmental concern, one that grows more acute every year with global warming: ‘“You also need a lot of water to cool the nuclear waste, and here in the altiplano we have a water shortage.”’ In fact, retreating glaciers currently threaten the water supply of both La Paz and El Alto.
Daniel Bellot, a member of “‘NO! A la planta de energía nuclear en Bolivia,”’, an anti-nuclear group, said that the Law of Mother Earth is a smokescreen. “‘Oh yeah, [the Morales administration] sure doesn’t care about nature, nor the natives of the lowlands,”’, he said. ‘The only thing it cares about is staying in power, and it will modify laws to get what it wants.’ Requena agreed, saying, “‘It is an open contradiction. The government is not coherent with their vision—only a few days ago they passed a supreme decree allowing businesses to explore protected areas for fuel.”’
To understand a more spiritual side of the environmental, I took part in an Aymaran ceremony to give offerings to the Pachamama. These offerings can be anything from animal foetuses, such as llamas, to limpias and la k’oa. I opted for a la k’oa ceremony, which involved burning sacred items on a mesa, a traditional table. My yatiri, Alicia, explained that “‘we do not just pray to the Pachamama, we give her an offering of food and then ask her to help us in return. If she agrees, then she will help and protect you.”’
Alicia told me that her parents were involved in ceremonies and producing herbal medicines, but she wasn’t interested until the Pachamama told her in a dream to become a yatiri. When I asked her about the Law of Mother Earth, she said, “‘People were against the law initially, but now the Pachamama is respected. The law has stopped evil deeds against her.”’ As for the nuclear plant? “‘It is wrong,”’, she instantly said. “‘It goes against the Pachamama. The thought scares her and gives us bad feelings.”’
Although President Morales describes the nuclear plant as ‘economic liberalisation’, Requena argued that the administration is, in fact, investing in ‘zombie’ techology’. “‘Why invest in last century’s technology?”’ she asked. ‘We have the potential to make Tesla batteries, which have the ability to make energy from solar panels is available all year round. Now that’s technology!”’ She then referenced Albert Einstein’s description of a nuclear plant as “‘the most dangerous way of boiling water.”’.
Bolivia has taken a unique approach to the environment. It is a central part of life for many Bolivians, both spiritually and economically, making the proposed nuclear plant a sensitive issue for the people. Although the planning is still in the early stages, and the government is facing strong opposition, Evo Morales and his administration seem determined to make Bolivia a South American nuclear powerhouse.