Greetings from Peru

As some of you may have read in the papers over the past few weeks, Bolivia has been suffering from serious social unrest. Almost a month ago it all started where I lived, in Villa Montes. The prefects and mayors got together and decided to go to battle with Evo over his redistribution of the hydrocarbons export tax. He wanted to take a small percentage of the funds and use it for projects in his side of the country, the poorer west. The political leaders of the Chaco, home to 45% of Bolivia's hydrocarbons, wanted to make sure the revenues from these taxes stayed in the land from which they were removed. Some claim that their real goal was to destabilize the Morales administation a la Salvador Allende in Chile in 1973, where the leftist government was toppled after blockades and strikes destabilizes the government and ushered in Pinochet. Anyone who worked for the mayors office, prefecture, hospital, or schools were told to go and blockade the roads or they would lose their jobs. So they did. The campesinos, who had truckloads of tomatoes and papayas rotting in their fields, grew unhappy with the blockades and tried to break them down by force in Villa Montes. Four were injured (with sling shots) and as a result the comite civico worked to bring the campesinos on line by telling them that the objective of the fight for the hydrocarbons tax, the IDH, was to preserve some of the social programs they rely upon, such as the Juancito Pinto which give cash to school kids to buy their books. So the campesinos calmed down and the blockades continued.

After three weeks, more and more communities in the media luna, the easten half of the country, began to strike and blockade. The Cruceno Youth, a sort of university student run militia, began to take any office that was run by the federal government or those that had been recently nationalized, such as the national phone company Entel. With battering rams and stones and some stolen guns and tear gas, they held off the military police and began to loot and demolish their own city. The scenes on television were quite chaotic and an air of fear and uncertainty began floated over the country. Evo, unable to suppress the uprisings in a country with a history of military dictatorships, began to blame the United States for the social unrest. He cited meeting between the ambassador and the leaders of the media luna and declared Ambassador Goldberg a persona non grata. Tit for tat Ambassador expulsions began between Bolivia, the US, and Venezuela and its bellicose president.

Meanwhile, 113 peace corps volunteers listened closely to fuzzy radio signals and watch bleary eyed as their country was accused of trying to dismantle the same country they had spent a year or two trying to build up. I was in Camiri, a town 150 km north of me, visiting the doctor when the violence in Santa Cruz began to unfurl. I was told to stay there to wait out the violence, but when the Ambassador was dismissed I was told to cross the three blockades to get back to Chimeo and get my passport. The blockades which had been so easy to cross on the way up to the doctor a few days before had changed drastically. After three weeks of strikes gas had begun to run out and disgruntled locals had begun to puncture the tires of the taxis ferrying travelers through the Chaco. I made it most of the way with no problem, but north of Machareti the tire pinchers arrived. Our driver ordered us to bajense bajense bajense! about 15 km away from the next blockade when a tire pincher on a moto approached. Travellers had to walk this 15 km then another 15 km to Tiguipa, where taxi drivers felt far enough away from the blockade to ensure the health of their tires. Being a light skinned lass I was able to catch rides most of the way, and when I got to Tiguipa there was a taxi driver helping a farmer squeeze cane juice as payment for letting him hide his car in the farmers yard. Happy to be on the last leg of the journey, I bought a liter of jugo de cana for 5 Bs to take back to my friends in Chimeo. We weary travellers happily occupied every inch of the old toyota, and we were on our way. For a while. About half way to Chimeo, the car ran out of gas. We pushed it for a while, but when met by a particularly steep hill we gave up. Knowing that I was now a mere 15 km from Chimeo, I started walking with another girl from the taxi whom I knew. As she turned off to her house, a friend of my site mates picked me up and took me all the way into Chimeo. I thanked him and walked to my house to prepare for what would turn out to be my final twelve hours in Chimeo.

I spent the night and morning visiting, trying not to cry, and deciding what belongings would earn a place in the one bag I was approved to take with me. I visited with my four closest families and fielded a 0.750 not crying percentage. I told everyone that I may never be back, but I wasnt sure, that they had kicked out the ambassador and people were blaming my country for the problems in Santa Cruz. They assured me that everything would be resolved and that I would be back in a few days.

It wasnt until we boarded the plane in Bermejo that we were told: we were being evacuated to Lima, Peru. Now, a few days, hours of taxis, two rides in C130s, and much sadness later, I am in Lima, Peru. We are all in Lima, Peru. The program in Bolivia has been suspended and representatives from Washington will be arriving in the next few days to help us sort through what we will all do next. Some will go straight home, others will stay and travel South America, others will put in another year or two with PC in another country. I am still sorting out my feelings on leaving my very close friends and being forced to desert some really great projects that were a year and a half in the making. I will likely be here for another week before anything is figured out. I do not think that I am ready to go back to the US, but I dont know if I can give my heart to another community the way I did to Chimeo. Ill be sending an update in the coming days as my future becomes more clear.

Cuidense,
Jacqueline