I arrived to Córdoba, Argentina in June to write about La Sofía Cartonera (La Sofia Cardboard Publishing House), part of a project from Universidad Nacional de Córdoba, Argentina, that works with AMMAR (Asociación de Mujeres Meretrices), a female sex workers union that advocates for regulations and rights to protect women who engage in this work.
Out my window
Although most people that I’ve talked to who are not Brazilianists have been jealous about my ability to do research in Brazil this summer, I have, from day one, been quite unenthused about the prospect of being here for the World Cup. This is not because I am uninterested in futebol, but rather, because of the many practical difficulties that it arouses for getting around and getting things done. Roads are congested, lanes are closed, bus and metro workers around the country are striking over their working conditions (when public money is going to stadiums and the like), and many public institutions have special holiday hours.
Greetings from the humid and very welcoming city of Atlanta! I have decided to conduct research and devote the next ten weeks working as an intern at the Carter Center’s Americas Program.
The Carter Center focuses on giving a new angle towards what Humanitarianism and Development look like. As their mission statements says, “[The Carter Center is guided by a fundamental commitment to human rights and the alleviation of human suffering. It seeks to prevent and resolve conflicts, enhance freedom and democracy, and improve health.” As such, the Center does not try to duplicate work; rather, it tries to reach and analyze new issues affecting various regions of the world. The Center has done a stellar job trying to partner with different organizations, political and social groups, so it has nonpartisan approach.
Maya Aguiluz Ibargüen
Maya Aguiluz Ibargüen, senior research fellow at Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM), has been a visiting scholar at NYU this past semester. As a sociologist, she has published widely on the discourse of modernity and social theory. In 2012, she received the UNAM’s “Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz” Award.
Aguiluz-Ibargüen studies violence from historical, anthropological, and sociological perspectives following integrative streams for transdisciplinary fusions. She began to intertwine perspectives through the integration of social sciences with anthropological and cultural studies.
In the beginning of the nineties, Aguiluz-Ibargüen did her Masters in La Paz, Bolivia, during which she was fascinated with her immersion into Bolivian pluralistic society. According to her, the Andean identification processes are continuously built in a plural process: cultures, politics, projects, and ideas from different parts of the world mix together, and the Andean culture learns how to embrace them. In 2005, she conducted research for a collaborative project about the work of Arturo Peralta Miranda. Known under the pseudonym of Gamaliel Churata, he is a writer who was exiled from Peru to Bolivia in 1919, but became an acknowledged journalist in the 1950s. Aguiluz- Ibargüen’s first work on Churata used Quechua and Aymara narrative to express social experiences through mythical stories and parables.
She decided to come to CLACS because of the Center’s focus on her region of main interest: the Andes. But another important reason that motivated her is that CLACS Director, Jill Lane, is an expert in Performance Studies, and Aguiluz-Ibargüen is currently focusing on social suffering, the politics of love, and the performance of violence. Continue reading
Brazil’s Dilma Rousseff and Bolivia’s Evo Morales. Photo Credit: The World Outline
This article first appeared on NACLA.org on December 24, 2013. Reposted with Permission.
Evo Morales’s 2005 election brought an end to a long period of U.S.-Bolivia relations. Since at least 1952, the United States held Bolivia under its sway as a client state. The end of U.S. imperialism through an insidious client-patron relationship that traded large sums of U.S. money for Bolivian adherence to capitalist development and democratic principles was a momentous occasion. Although it is important to acknowledge Morales’s push-back against U.S. imperialism, other forms of imperialism not only loom large, but also happen to coincide with Morales’s interests. No longer is imperialism a cultural and political project shepherded by one nation-state that becomes the patron for client states; to the contrary, it is becoming a reflection of the messiness and instability of our transnational and globalized era. A look at the TIPNIS road controversy in the heart of Bolivia, a country always on the receiving end of imperialist projects, illustrates the emergence of one particular form of new imperialism: Brazilian subimperialism.
“Why does a Dutchman living in Denmark care about Cuba? And why would you come to New York to study Cuba?”
“Theses questions were posed to me by the Outreach Administrator of CLACS, when she was preparing for my talk at the center. And she was not the first one to ask that question. Let me explain.
My name is Sjamme van de Voort, PhD student at the Department of Culture and Society at the University of Aarhus, Denmark. In Denmark, the position as a PhD student is somewhat different then here in the US. First of all, you are considered a part of the faculty rather then a part of the student body. This means that you have a say in faculty politics, curricular design, and coffee room gossip. Secondly, instead of following graduate courses, taking exams, and drawing up the research prospect during the process, your acceptance into the program will depend on the prospectus that you would have prepared beforehand. This means that you are invested in your research on a daily basis from the very beginning.
Photo by Lyn McCraken
Next April the Graduate Association of Latin American Studies (GALAS) at NYU will open an exhibition entitled Stories of El Salvador: The Civil War and Its Aftermath. Raúl Guzmán and Camilla Querin, two students of the joint degree Master’s program in Latin American and Caribbean Studies and Museum Studies will be curating the exhibition that will be exhibited at the Stovall Gallery in the Kimmel Center.
The exhibition is the result of collaboration between GALAS, CLACS, NACLA, Museum Studies, the Mujeres de la Guerra project and the Stovall Gallery. The photo exhibition will focus on the Civil War in El Salvador and the role of women during and after the conflict. The exhibition will present a historical view of the Salvadoran Civil War through portrait photos, videos and oral histories of women involved in the conflict.
The intention is to educate people about the Salvadoran Civil War, about the power of women, their resilience and their organizational abilities. The aim is to tell their inspiring stories and share their hope, wisdom and dedication with the world, to make people reflect upon different forms of activism and to reach not only an NYU audience, but also the Salvadoran community in NYC, people interested in activism, feminism, community organization, photography and resilience after armed conflicts.
Posted by Raúl Guzmán and Camilla Querin – MA Candidates at CLACS / Museum Studies
When I met MJ, a sex worker, we spent almost eight hours talking. She has a delicious sense of humor; she has a joke for everything- “perhaps to make life more livable” –she says. We were sitting at a grocery store in the north of Bogotá, in the middle of a huge street, where cars often get crowded in order to reach the following avenue. This is, however, one of the wealthiest zones in the city.
MJ told me that she would take me to many places where prostitution takes place. As she described some of them, she started to talk about her experiences in each of them. In one of them she had a fixed schedule: from 9am to 5pm. She arrived there through a newspaper advertisement. Drugs, alcohol and smoking cigarettes are not allowed there. It is a traditional family home. Nobody, except its clients, would ever suspect that prostitution is allowed there. When sex workers enter the house, they must turn their cell phones off: the client is the only one that matters.
I sat at the table and watched. I was at the co-café in Cochabamba, Bolivia on a cool June night with local cochalos. We drank, smoked and chewed coca leaves deep into the small hours of the night. It was dreamlike and sublime; the forces of history and destiny brought us here this evening. I am with my friend, Alejandro—a sociology student with Marxist-Leninist inclinations, despite his firm katarista cultivation. The waiter—a friend and fellow sociology student of Alejandro’s—brings us Huari beer after Huari beer; and we smoke cigarettes incessantly. We are not the only ones doing this; all those who entered the co-café this evening are drinking and smoking impetuously. It is that kind of night in Cocha.
Cochabamba was the backdrop for the “water war” of early 2000, the series of protests that shook the streets of Cocha between December 1999 and April of 2000. These massive protests arose in response to the government’s attempts to privatize the water supply, and included weeks of waged protests, general strikes, and transportation blockages that brought the country to a virtual standstill. The protests were sparked by the government’s concession to sell Cochabamba’s public water system to foreign investors. The protesters demanded the government break its $200 million contract with private contractors, which had dramatically raised water rates. Continue reading