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‘Con Altura’: La Paz, Bolivia - The Hidden Gem of the Andes
By: Carla Suarez
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the KCL Latin American Society or El Cortao
La Paz, Bolivia, located at 3600m above sea level, is the highest capital city in the world and the hidden jewel of the Andes. Its imposing beauty will take your breath away (and so will the altitude!). After taking a combination of miraculous sorojchi pills and mate de coca to cure altitude sickness, any visitor to La Paz is set to start exploring the city.
Surrounded by the mystic Andean mountains of the Bolivian Altiplano, La Paz is a unique town that expands all over a bowl-shaped canyon, with variations in altitude and climate all around the city. The city centre, with its idiosyncratic mix of old colonial buildings and modern skyscrapers is the ideal place to get lost in an urban adventure. The never-ending competition of minibuses and trufis with the city-run buses known as puma kataris, could have you stuck in traffic for hours, so walking is definitely the best way to discover downtown La Paz. As you walk around the city, you will see different unique characters that are iconic to the city, such as the famous cholitas, street vendors and zebras. Yes, zebras. Citizens disguised as zebras are part of an urban education campaign created by the Alcaldía de La Paz to promote the use of crosswalks and have become an icon of the city ever since. The streets of La Paz are a marketplace of their own with a diverse range of products being sold by street vendors thanks to whom you will be able to find any Bolivian snack within a mile of anywhere you go, from the essential marraquetas (a smaller and typically Bolivian version of baguettes) to fresh pressed juices. Street food classics include the glorious salteña, the famous sandwich de chola (featured on Netflix’s Street Food Latin America) and the essential api con pastel.
Downtown La Paz is composed of the Casco Viejo, San Pedro, San Jorge, Miraflores and Sopocachi. El Casco Viejo is where you will find the oldest colonial buildings, as well as La Plaza Murillo and ‘el Palacio Quemado’, the seat of government and the Congress. The famous Calle Jaen is the best-preserved colonial alley with colourful houses and museums. The Calle de las Brujas and Calle Sagarnaga, sitting behind the San Francisco Cathedral are also well-known tourist destinations where you will discover the Andean paraphernalia that tourists rave about. Sitting close by the ‘Witches Market’, the San Pedro jail is known for its infamous in-house cocaine lab and tourist tours. El Casco Viejo is the perfect place to try out the best of Bolivian cuisine with fine dining restaurants such as Popular and Ali Pacha offering a modern and high-end take on Bolivian staple dishes. For some of the best coffee, one of Bolivia’s premium products, you can head to Antigua Miami or HB Bronze and sip on a flat white accompanied by a dulce de leche alfajor. In San Jorge, the Cinemateca Boliviana hosts film screenings every day, displaying the best works of Bolivian cinema such as the movies of filmmaker Jorge Sanjinés. Miraflores hosts the highest football stadium in the world, the ‘Estadio Hernando Siles’ which is known for the unnecessary controversy that surrounds it in international football due to FIFA legislation against football matches at altitude. Sopocachi is the most bohemian and nostalgic neighbourhood in La Paz. Its 20th century architecture, vintage cars and cultural spaces have turned it into a vibrant and trendy cultural hub filled with up-and-coming restaurants and cafés such as Ahijada, Manq’a and Typica.
Exploring La Paz in the Teleférico cable car allows you to explore the city from North to South within an hour while enjoying the breathtaking views. Jump into a cabin at one of the many stations and take a ride across the paceño sky. In the highest parts of the city, reachable through the Teleférico red line, you can find the colourful barrio of Chualluma, a revitalised commune with murals depicting the greatest cultural emblems of Bolivia. If you take a ride on the yellow and green lines you can reach the Zona Sur. Known for its warmer weather, it is primarily a residential area, however it is also home to some of the coolest restaurants and bars of the city such as Gustu, Phayawi, Tinto and Imilla Alzada. The Zona Sur is worth visiting for natural wonders such as the Valle de la Luna and the Valle de Las Ánimas. These valleys feature unique and spectacular rock formations, similar to the surface of the Moon, with some claiming that legendary astronaut Neil Armstrong once visited the Valle de la Luna and made the famous comparison. The Muela del Diablo, a tooth shaped mountain crowning the city’s landscape, is ideal to go on a hike which will culminate with some of the best views of La Paz.
As you stroll around La Paz, you will notice the snow-capped Mount Illimani, the highest peak of the Cordillera Real, is always rising in the horizon. Its imposing and majestic figure melts into a natural embrace with the city laying underneath. When the sun sets, the mountains engage in a magical dance with the sky at dusk before it turns into the night, when the shining lights of the city transform into a veil of stars that elegantly covers La Paz. If you wish to enjoy your stay to the fullest, head to el Parque del Montículo to catch the best views La Paz can offer.
The surroundings of La Paz are also worth visiting. The mountains of the Altiplano and the tropical forest of the Yungas are stars of their own, found right outside of the metropolitan area of La Paz. North of La Paz, along the border with Peru, Lake Titicaca is a must for visitors. Tiwanaku and the Puerta del Sol, a monumental site of the Inca empire, is located close to Lake Titicaca. It only takes a two-hour drive to reach Copacabana, where you can visit the 16th century Basílica de Copacabana, home to an impressive colonial shrine made of gold from Potosi. Once in Copacabana, you can take a boat ride to reach the Isla del Sol where lies the birthplace of the first Incas, la Roca Sagrada, a sacred place in Aymara cosmovision. Trekking is another great activity to explore La Paz and its surroundings. The Tuni Condoriri mountain is a popular trekking route that leads to the mind-blowing sights of the Chiar Khota Lagoon. For the most adventurous kind, the Huayna Potosi mountain is ideal for mountain climbing. On the tropical end of the spectrum, Coroico is the ideal place to retreat. Located in the coffee region of Yungas, the town is mostly known for its Afro-Bolivian community, who have made substantial contributions to Bolivian culture, music and folklore.
Bolivia is home to surreal sites and natural wonders such as the Salar de Uyuni, the Desierto de Dalí and the Laguna Colorada in the Andes region. The Amazon forest hosts an incredible array of biodiversity in the Eastern lowlands of Bolivia. Cities such as Cochabamba, Santa Cruz and Sucre are also worth visiting for their colonial architecture, gastronomy and sights. Every year in February, the town of Oruro attracts visitors from all over the country as well as the world as it hosts the quintessential Carnaval de Oruro, a UNESCO World Heritage Masterpiece. Tarija, located in the southern valleys neighbouring Argentina, is known for its wine cellars and high-quality vino de altura. Bolivia is an adventure worth taking.
There is something about La Paz that is truly magnetic. La Paz is an eclectic city you will never forget and that will always bring a smile to your face when reminiscing about it. The cosmopolitan spirit of La Paz reflects on its urban culture and its up-and-coming culinary scene. Its majestic and imposing landscapes of mystic Andean mountains and clear blue skies are one of a kind. La Paz is a city like no other: the crown jewel of the Andes.
Carla is a Final-Year Student at King’s College London with a great interest in political economy, international relations and philosophy. Having spent most of her life moving between her homeland Bolivia, and her second homes, Chile, Colombia, Belgium and the United Kingdom, she developed a strong interest in Latin American cultural identity, political affairs and environmental issues and the portrayal of these topics in film and global media.
Jair Bolsonaro Explained: How Did Brazil’s Current Far-Right President Ascend to Power?
By: Alice Iscar
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the KCL Latin American Society or El Cortao.
It’s been over two years since Jair Bolsonaro –the current president of Brazil– was elected, and the balance sheet of his first two years of ruling Latin America’s largest country is rather grim. The range of examples to illustrate his wrongdoings since his election is large –the peak of Amazonian deforestation, an extremely poor handled sanitary crisis, and the sharp drop of his popularity among Brazilians just a few months after he took office in January 2019. The big question this article will attempt to answer is how such a radical conservative, misogynistic, homophobic and racist Brazilian political figure was able to ascend to the country’s management. Four main aspects which explain this phenomenon will be presented: antipetismo; the social, economic and political crises Brazil has been undergoing for the past decade; Bolsonaro’s personality-led campaign; and ‘fake news’.
Antipetismo
The most evident explanation to Bolsonaro’s rise to power comes from this term: antipetismo. ‘PT’ is the common Brazilian way to call the ‘Partido dos Trabalhadores’, the leftist political party which ruled the country for over a decade from 2003 to 2016. Antipetismo describes the sentiment of being against ‘PT’ –against Brazil’s Workers’ Party. This sentiment exists ever since people started to notice the undergoing economic corruption under the presidency of Luiz Inácio da Silva – or Lula, a former leftist president of Brazil who ruled the country from 2003 to 2011. However, itheightened in 2014, when the corruption scandal officially broke out to the world under the presidency of Dilma Roussefwith the initiation of the Operação Lava Jato (the Car Wash operation). The Car Wash investigation found that the source of the corruption came from the state-owned oil company Petrobras, from which politicians, and more particularly the members of the Workers’ Party, accumulated millions of dollars. After more than thirty people were arrested for corruption –businessmen and politicians included– the scandal reached its peak with Lula’s trial for corruption and Dilma Roussef’s consequent impeachment in 2016 (after she tried to name him her chief of staff in order to shield him from justice). Therefore, during the 2018 elections, not few were the Brazilians who harboured a genuine hate for Brazil’s Workers’ Party and the political class in general. In that context, Jair Bolsonaro, a retired military official, stood as an outsider, and ended up embodying that hatred against PT. A study led by Mark Setzler in the Brazilian Political Science Review found that support for Bolsonaro in the 2018 elections is widely and largely explained by partisanship and antiparty hostility towards PT.
A country in crisis
Closely – but not exclusively – related to the previous point, Bolsonaro also found his support in the social, political and economic crises which have been shaking the country for the past two decades. Brazil’s two main problems in the population’s mind are the economic crisis and the worsening of violence in the past decade. After years of steady growth, Brazil experienced a heavy economic crisis in 2014, under Dilma Roussef. Brazil’s real GDP fell by 7,2% from 2014 to 2016, amid the political turmoil occurring at the same time.The economic and political crises combined caused mass popular dissatisfaction in the wake of the 2018 elections, which proved to be a fertile ground for Bolsonaro’s rise to power. Additionally, Brazil has also been suffering from an increasing social crisis with the steady rise of violence in the past years. In 2018, fourteen of the world’s fifty most violent cities were situated in Brazil, the dangerousness being assessed by the number of homicides per 100,000 residents. In 2018, the violence in Rio de Janeiro was so uncontrollable, that Michel Temer, Brazil’s president at the time, signed an emergency security decree which gave the armed forces authorization to replace the police and take over its duties.Once again, in that context and thanks to his singularity, many Brazilians came to see Bolsonaro as the exit gate from those political, economic and social crises.
A personality-led campaign
Similarly to Donald Trump in 2016 and other populist figures who managed to rise to power, Jair Bolsonaro’s presidential campaign was heavily centred on his personality, which surprisingly, in a way, seduced many Brazilians. The list of controversial and offensive remarks delivered by Bolsonaro is long. He often appears as a racist, homophobic and misogynistic man –as he told a colleague that he would not rape her because she did not deserve it’ or as he claims he would rather his son die than be homosexual; or as he stated, when talking about Afro-Brazilian communities, that they ‘don’t do anything’ and that they ‘are not even good for breeding anymore’. If some Brazilians were horrified by those statements coming from a presidential candidate, the more conservative part of the population, who felt put aside by the post-dictatorship cultural and political establishment, identified with Bolsonaro. His rhetoric also gave the impression that he spoke his mind and was not afraid to do so, which significantly contrasted with the sense of deceitfulness and dishonesty coming from the ruling political elite and especially the members of the Workers’ Party.
Fake News
Once more calling for a parallel with Trump, Bolsonaro declared a war against media’s ‘fake news’ going as far as to accuse a journalist from The Guardian, Bianca Santana, of spreading fake news on him. However, it seems Bolsonaro and his supporters were the ones who heavily shared fake news on Bolsonaro’s rivals during the presidential campaign. In an interview on Vox by Jen Kirby of Benjamin Junge, he explains how important Facebook and especially WhatsApp are in Brazil. Benjamin Junge is an associate professor of Anthropology at the State University of New York at New Paltz and a Fulbright fellow at the Federal University of Pernambuco in Brazil, whose studies focus on Brazilian working-class and middle-class families. In the interview he mentions how the majority of families have a WhatsApp group and how these group chats are created on every occasion whether it is between students in a class or among friends and families. In that way, information is diffused very easily among the population. Junge claims that digital spaces such as Facebook and WhatsApp is where the fake news are.An example of a fake news story spread by Bolsonaro during his campaign is that Fernando Haddad, his leftist rival, was planning on creating a ‘gay kit’ to deliver to children in primary schools in order to encourage them to become gay. Many other absurd stories on his rivals were shared in order to undermine their legitimacy and promote his campaign.
Bolsonaro managed to find his support by exacerbating feelings of dissatisfaction, hatred, fear and insecurity whichBrazilians were feeling in the wake of his election. Thesestemmed from the political crisis of the corruption scandal which touched the Workers’ Party, but also the economic and social crises which have witnessed a rise in inequality and violence in Brazil’s largest cities. He also focused on leading a personality-centred campaign, which shocked but also seduced many Brazilians. Finally, he made heavy and coarse use of fake news in order to spread negative misinformation on his rivals, profiting from a general feeling of antipetismo among the Brazilian population.
Alice is a third-year History and International Relations student at King’s College London seeking to raise awareness about the current politico-environmental situation in Brazil. She is a regular contributor of El Cortao’.
Bibliography
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Barua, Akrur. ‘Brazil: Yearning for the good times.’ Global Economic Outlook, Q2 2016, April 29, 2016.
Boadle, Anthony. ‘Brazil poll shows rising rejection of Bolsonaro.’ Reuters, December 20, 2019. https://www.reuters.com/article/us-brazil-politics-poll-idUSKBN1YO239.
Bracho-Polanco, Ed. ‘How Jair Bolsonaro used ‘fake news’ to win power.’ The Conversation, January 8, 2019. https://theconversation.com/how-jair-bolsonaro-used-fake-news-to-win-power-109343.
Chagas-Bastos, Fabrício H. ‘Political Realignment in Brazil: Jair Bolsonaro and the Right Turn.’ Revista de EstudiosSociales, no. 69 (2019): 92-100. https://doi.org/10.7440/res69.2019.08.
Cowie, Sam. ‘Michel Temer signs security decree to stem Rio violence.’ Aljazeera, February 16, 2018.https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2018/2/16/michel-temer-signs-security-decree-to-stem-rio-violence.
Daly, Tom. ‘Populism, Public Law, and Democratic Decay in Brazil: Understanding the Rise of Jair Bolsonaro.’ Social Science Research Network, (Spring 2019). http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.3350098.
Kirby, Jen. ‘Corruption, fake news, and WhatsApp: how Bolsonaro won Brazil.’ Vox, October 29, 2018.https://www.vox.com/world/2018/10/29/18025066/bolsonaro-brazil-elections-voters-q-a.
Londoño, Ernesto, Andreoni, Manuela. ‘Brazil Election: How Jair Bolsonaro Turned Crisis Into Opportunity.’ The New York Times, October 29, 2018. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/29/world/americas/jair-bolsonaro-brazil-profile.html.
Santana, Bianca. ‘Jair Bolsonaro accused me of spreading ‘fake news’. I know why he targeted me.’ The Guardian, June 22, 2020.https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jun/22/jair-bolsonaro-fake-news-accusation-marielle-franco.
Setzler, Mark. ‘Did Brazilians Vote for Jair bolsonaro Because They Share his Most Controversial Views?’ Brazilian Political Science Review 15, no. 1 (Autumn 2020). https://doi.org/10.1590/1981-3821202100010006.
Sotero, Paulo. ‘Petrobras Scandal.’ Britannica, April 10, 2018. https://www.britannica.com/event/Petrobras-scandal.
Winter, Brian. ‘System Failure: Behind the Rise of Jair Bolsonaro.’ Americas Quarterly, January 24, 2018.https://www.americasquarterly.org/fulltextarticle/system-failure-behind-the-rise-of-jair-bolsonaro/.
Woody, Christopher. ‘These were the 50 most violent cities in the world in 2018.’ Business Insider, March 12, 2019.https://www.businessinsider.com/most-violent-cities-in-the-world-in-2018-2019-3?IR=T.
Cultural Celebration or Economic Exploitation: Indigenous Identity in Peru
By: Clarice Benney*
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the KCL Latin American Society or El Cortao'.
Peru’s geographical diversity is typically summarised in three words: sierra (mountainous Andean region), selva (the tropical Amazon rainforest), and costa (coastal cities, towns and villages). Travel companies often capitalise on this diversity, marketing it as an ideal holiday destination for the variety of environments, however this presentation often idealises the situation and fails to nuance how regionalisation can have a negative impact on individual experience. This article will explore how indigenous and Hispanic identities intersect to form Peru, with regard to economic generation, cultural exploitation, linguistic diversity and political representation.
The mountainous Andean region, home to the cities of Cusco and cultural site of Machu Picchu, is also home to many of Peru’s Quechua communities. 60% of land in Peru is in the Amazon basin, and when looking at the demographic makeup of the Amazonas and Loreto provinces, there are a combined 32 indigenous groups. The coastal area is where the majority of Peru’s cities are based, but when looking at Peru’s entire coastline, the presence of indigenous communities decreases, as shown in the map to the right, and aside from some Quechua communities in Ancash there is no presence at all within 50 kilometres of the coast.
Peru’s three largest industries are mining, fishing, and tourism. When considering how these industries ‘map out’, as shown in the map to the left, mining is being undertaken and explored in areas that seem to follow the spread of Quechua communities: in the Andean region from Arequipa to Ancash. For tourism, I would argue that it is more useful to understand why tourists come to Peru than where tourists go. In 2017, a survey found that the top four motives for visiting Per were to see the nature and natural landscape (60.7%), to see Machu Picchu (60.4%), for the Peruvian cuisine (59%), and to visit Cusco (55%). Machu Picchu is an archaeological site of an Incan settlement, built into the mountains and so remote that it survived the destruction of the Spanish conquistadores, and Cusco is its nearest city, and a popular destination for hiking and its impressive landscape. When visiting for gastronomy, the capital city of Lima is home to many good restaurants, but not the only place to take advantage of Peru’s rich culinary culture.
In terms of the residential population distribution in Peru, about 40% lives in the costa, 36% live in the sierra and 12% in the selva. Almost one third of the population lives in the Lima and Callao Metropolitan area. With this in mind, it does make sense that there would be a centralisation of resources in the Lima area, however the extent of the centralisation of resources appears somewhat exploitative, given that the industries which finance it are linked to the sierra and indigenous culture. However, it is not just about economic resources and recognition; when considering the importance of indigenous culture to tourism, Peru’s institutions often exclude and disadvantage indigenous communities.
In 2002, the cultural and linguistic diversity in Peru led to a law being passed that is commonly referred to as Educación Intercultural Bilingüe (EIB), which aims to promote indigenous languages and cultures, keeping the languages ‘alive’ by creating bilingual schools that teach in indigenous languages. In practice, this has led to the development of some schools that offer bilingual primary education. For example, in the Cusco region some primary schools give education in Quechua, the indigenous language in this area, but almost all secondary education is taught in Castilian Spanish. Whilst the motive behind EIB was good, it has created issues. For one, the ‘othering’ of non-Castilian speaking children, as EIB schools are seen as different and separate from non-EIB schools, which make up the majority. Additionally, EIB aside, there is a higher rate of leaving education between primary and secondary in indigenous communities due in part to the increased expense of accessing schools that are further away. This disproportionately affects girls, who are less likely to be given the opportunity if a family can only afford to send one child, and is choosing between a son and a daughter. What EIB can do is to heighten the risk of dropping out of education if a child is uncomfortable or unable to speak Castilian. To improve this situation would either require the development of EIB secondary schools or the inclusion of indigenous language and culture in the mainstream national curriculum in order to address the issue of marginalisation.
With regard to political representation of indigenous culture in Peru, until 1979 voting was only possible for those who could speak and write Castilian, and there have been a number of cultural conflicts in recent years. For example, in 2006, María Sumire had to repeat her ‘swearing-in’ three times, as she insisted on doing it in Quechua, her native language. In 2009, in what is now referred to as el Baguazo, Congress suspended 7 elected members, three of whom identified as indigenous, for supporting protests in favour of demands being made by indigenous communities. The demands came in response to a government move to loosen legislation regarding extraction of resources in the Amazon. The protests came to a head in a confrontation which saw both police and protestor casualties, but only the prosecution of protestors. The significance of removing these members of Congress cannot be overlooked, given that from 2001-2016 only 7 members of Congress identified as indigenous.
Peru’s diversity is part of its identity, and yet sadly this diversity has not yet led to the social equity necessary to avoid economic exploitation of indigenous people. The seeds are there in the form of the EIB and perception of Peru to outsiders, however in their current forms, neither of these potential factors for change are doing their jobs properly. As such, work to help restore this balance falls to individuals offering community services. I would like to highlight the work of three organisations operating in the Cusco area: Casa Mantay, Sacred Valley Project and Mosqoy.
Casa Mantay provides a home for teenage mothers and their children and gives them the necessary support (both material and psychological) to continue their education, as well as giving them the opportunity to develop skills by working in their social enterprise, Taller Mantay, which produces artisan leather goods. Mantay has recently started having ‘Jueves de Quechua’ (Thursdays in Quechuan) for staff and girls, to recognise the importance of self-expression for those who speak Quechua as their native tongue, and to encourage non-native speakers to learn it.
Sacred Valley Project provides dormitories in Cusco for girls from indigenous backgrounds to come during term time and receive support and community when they attend secondary school. Similarly, Mosqoy has dormitories for secondary students and they also work with mostly female-run weaving cooperatives in the Sacred Valley as part of the Q’ente Society Textile Revitalization Programme, to give them an outlet to sell to international markets. This connects women’s often unacknowledged labour with a fair income source, fostering financial independence in their families, greater provision for their children, and a central, respected place in the rural economy.
Clarice is a student studying Spanish at Cambridge University. She is currently on her ‘year abroad’ and working with the NGO Latin American Foundation for the Future (LAFF) as Communications Coordinator. LAFF operates in Cusco, Peru and so Clarice is particularly interested in Peruvian current affairs, as well as protest culture in Latin American and grassroots activism.
*About LAFF:
Latin American Foundation for the Future (LAFF) is a UK registered charity operating in Cusco, Peru to increase access to quality education and personal development opportunities. LAFF believes that one of the best ways to create positive long term change is to support local grassroots organisations so that community leaders drive the change. To find out more about what we do, check out our website.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laffcharity/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/latin-american-foundation-for-the-future
Testimony: Lost in the Amazon
By: Arianna Sánchez
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the KCL Latin American Society or El Cortao.
Olivia was born in a tiny town, hours away from Iquitos, in the Peruvian Amazon. To get there, you need to not only trek but also travel a portion of the way by boat. As Olivia told me, “there was absolutely nothing to do, I had to leave”. During our lunches together, she would tell me about her main dream growing up – she needed to get out of that town. Olivia would take any chance available to travel to Iquitos even to work for free, any excuse to leave her cramped town. Even though she grew up in a loving family, she felt suffocated. In a place where everyone knows everything about everyone. She could not grow.
Shortly after turning 20, she went to Iquitos to look for jobs to become independent. She knew her town would not provide her with what she wanted. She needed a way out,urgently. She found the best way to get out was to find a job and the closest city was Iquitos. Walking with her head down and ready to give up, Olivia found a brand-new poster stuck to one of the light posts, “Looking for people to work in the jungle, near Iquitos. Will pay 1,000 soles.” Olivia knew what she had to do. Her golden ticket out of her native town.
Olivia did not hesitate and called the advertised number quickly. A couple picked up. They asked her to meet them at the main plaza where they would discuss the job in more detail. What they told her seemed too good to be true. She would get 500 soles right then, and the rest when she finished the job. If she recruited more people, she would even get a commission. Best of all, the place of work was an hour away from the main plaza, and she would get free transport. Olivia rapidly thanked them, carefully placed those 500 soles in her purse, and ran back to get on a boat before it got dark.
When she arrived at her town, she decided she would break the news to her cousin first. Her cousin was a young single mother with a teenage son. When Olivia told her about the pay, her cousin quickly came on board. Both Julia and Mateo asked to be recruited too; Julia could pay for house refurbishments, and Mateo could start to save up for his dream of attending university. It was their golden ticket too, and they took it. Olivia’s mother was not on board. She feared her daughter was making an abrupt decision rather than one well-thought. But Olivia would not take it. And so, a few weeks later, the three had packed their favourite belongings and crossed the river towards their big break. They arrived at Iquitos with a bright new glow and headed to the plaza to meet with their new bosses to-be. They greeted each other, and as time went by people started to join them. Suddenly, the man said it was time to go. They got into a huge van and headed into the Amazon. This was when things started to go sour.
Olivia stared out of her window and into the jungle, ruminating about her next steps. Sure, being inside the jungle for months would not be a vacation, but it was a small sacrifice with a life-changing reward. She drifted off to sleep. She woke up confused and asked her cousin how long it had been since they started driving. Her cousin let out a carefully silent “it’s been like 3 hours”. Olivia pushed away her hunch and decided this would be her ticket out. In just a few months, whatever happened, they would be out and with 1,000 soles in hand. She sat upwards and looked out the window as they went deeper into the Amazon. The bus stopped and demanded everyone to get out quickly. Olivia grabbed her belongings and stepped out of the bus filled with excitement and yet a lingering negative feeling would not allow her to enjoy what she had been waiting for. Julia, Mateo and Olivia followed the bus driver for around half an hour, as they walked through what the bus could not. Finally, they arrived, the bus driver said. Olivia told me she can only describe that moment as bittersweet; she looked up and saw this beautiful plantation, vast enough to make her question if it even stopped somewhere. This ethereal view was heavily contrasted with what she called “incredibly scary men treating you like a piece of meat”, and an arsenal of weapons enough to carry an army. She realised where she was in a moment of both acceptance and deep regret. Mateo, a mere 17-year-old boy, grabbed his mum by the wrist and asked, “They are going to kill us, aren’t they?”
Olivia kept quiet. She knew her nephew could see right through her lies, and, if she did not lie, she could worsen the situation by further scaring him. She told me she still did not have a grasp of the entirety of the situation at that moment, but she knew the job was not the one advertised. Another man showed the new people to their quarters, separated between men and women, as were the jobs. Women were told to meet in the morning by the entrance of the plantation, whilst men were told to meet by the common area. Mateo grabbed his belongings and, trying to seem as confident as possible to build a reputation amongst the mostly older men, walked into his quarters without a goodbye from Julia and Olivia. The two cousins walked into their quarters, where they were assigned a bunkbed, next to a dozen others.
Around two weeks later, Olivia felt a constant ache in her arms due to carrying coca leaves to the main area and back all day. Her daily routine was almost as if robotic. Men would usually gather around to drink at night, so Olivia and her cousin tended to eat in their room. They would barely see Mateo, who was in charge of processing coca paste, and was dragged every night to the men’s nightly drinking-binges. They were tired but could not let anyone see, deciding to let their bodies run on autopilot and get it over with. Until the third week. Olivia and Julia were having dinner with some of their workmates in their room when they heard shouting outside. They dismissed it as it was extremely common to see drunk men making a fuss and starting fights every night. However, they stopped eating when they heard a loud gunshot. Julia did not even think twice and sprinted out of the room in an attempt to find her son. Olivia stared at her not knowing what to do – she froze. Julia came running with Mateo on her hand, trying to explain something to Olivia but unable to talk. Mateo told his aunt someone had been shot. With time not on their side, they decided to do what most were doing in a frenzy – escape into the jungle.
Olivia told me the eight days she spent in the Amazon were the worst days of her life. The lack of clean water and safe food compounded with the constant paranoia of the drug traffickers finding them made these days a nightmare come true. They were following a stream of water trying to find a town, walking all day with an excruciating level of heat making them extremely dehydrated. However, the fear of being caught kept pushing them forward. At night, all types of insects would make sleeping impossible, and, by the morning, the three would wake up with wounds due to infected insect bites. But they had to keep going.
Around day five, Mateo came running back from his daily food search to tell them he had heard people talking close by. What seemed like a golden opportunity to be saved, turned sour really quickly. Julia recognised the voices – it was a group of the drug traffickers. They realised walking would probably not be enough to lose them. They were severely dehydrated, and the other group did not seem so. If they tried to escape through land, they would get caught. Running out of options, the three decided their safest bet was swimming away. So, reluctantly, the three stepped into the cold river hoping it would lead them to safety. Olivia remembers the excruciating pain she would feel when she stepped out of the river. Leeches would be all over their bodies and taking them off by force was not an option. The only way to get them offwas urinating on them.
A few days after, they felt overwhelming feelings of happiness when they found a small town. They were alive. Walking around the town, they recognised one of their fellow co-workers sitting on a bench alone. Mateo went running towards him, as the two had worked together for months. He told them he had escaped too and arrived at the town a few days prior to them. When he arrived, he found out the person that had been shot back in the plantation had told everything to the police for some money and legal immunity in return, and the traffickers had found out. The police and army raided the site during the night, and everyone who had not escaped was arrested on the spot. Most of the people that escaped were not seen again.
A few months later, the three were back in their small town, grateful to be there for the first time in years. However, their happiness was short-lived. Someone had given the police Mateo’s name, potentially in an attempt to reduce their own prison time. Mateo was arrested under charges of drug trafficking at 17 years old. He was sent to the capital, Lima, to become imprisoned in “Maranguita”, the only prison for young boys in Peru at the time. This meant his family could not even visit him, and the thought of hiring a lawyer from a capital was simply irrational. They could not afford it. Mateo spent 20 years in prison, without saying a word about Julia and Olivia, despite constant intimidation tactics by the police. Mateo was released last year, at 37 years old.
Olivia has been diagnosed with PTSD. When she finished telling me her story, I cleared my throat and told her I did not know what to say. I did not know whether to tell her I was incredibly sorry or whether I admired her. She looked up at me and started laughing, and I thought she could see in my face my desperate attempt to find something to tell her. I asked what she was laughing at, to which she just replied, “I never even got paid the other 500 soles”
Arianna is a Peruvian 3rd Year Politics Student at King’s College London with a passion for Latin American politics and political risk-management.