Claudio Ferrufino writes for El Dia, how Bolivians are left with nothing… how we are pushed and been manipulated by a few hollow people…
The destroyer of mother earth rubs his chubby hands with pleasure. He is sure that finally has got carte blanche to expand his business. He, in person, or the dark forces that shelter under his shadow, are responsible for distributing money and wealth to either side, international, local officials, and why not if his multinational is the largest of all known: the multinational crime, and the aim turn once and forever to Bolivia in a gigantic producer of drugs. These individuals, from revolutionaries don’t have one iota, are already millionaires, since just the beginning of his “Government”. So what is the reason to accumulate more? As in every business there are contracts and a part of the current was to have the territory to deliver it to drug trafficking, at home to the unclean lackeys, called coca growers, who made their identity card out of disgust and abjection.
But a country that accepts it, deserves it. And if it is the case to let the destruction first of the TIPNIS and then the rest of the protected territories, we should not remain. When Bolivia is Coquivia [coca-road] I doubt that people with some reasoning will want to stay. Those who will, and here abounds a Pleiad of notable cowards that are those who cling onto power, to the Apostle of ignorance, will have that moment of the debacle and will have a divine exile wherever. Because the plurinational larceny is not due only to his harsh militancy, they also make that cult of cowardice and live among half-measures trying to get some favor. Intellectuals, middle classes, those who get the crumbs of [narco]traffic, fall enough to live on their knees as always have done, as we are accustomed: on our knees and as beggars.
In Bolivia with kicks, everything is understood. Decades have passed and still not even the democratic concept is not well understood. We prefer to live like America’s Mongoloid brother, the poor guy, begging for trucks, hospitals, aid, beaches, unable to invent anything, without excelling at anything, Unrefined by centuries of violence, alcohol and the “sacred leaf”. The [coca] leaf that used the curacas for that and continued to be used by the Spanish as an instrument of domain. People that did not fed, gave them to cud. And now, five hundred years later, another pattern of new breed, seemingly out of the bosom of the people slave, obliges to worship what made us what we are, on behalf of the ancestral culture and sad philosophies of vanity. Country of the blind, where a pair of one-eyed that saw the business.
Be it, then, we go on the way they propose, so the sooner we have to reach the end. The earlier, the better. And whatever it comes, hunger, crime in grisly ways, what can you expect from a society immersed in the vice, not only will be deserved but welcome. Perhaps just review history and analyze if there are villages that are eligible to become Nations or not. What we are seeing, inclines me to the latter and I say that not without sadness.
Claudio’s verse and poetic style is striking but extremely well-written. I feel the same way, like someone who got stolen his identity, his country… it is sad and depressing, to witness this hecatomb.