Thursday, December 31, 2020

Requiem for a Café, in Words Once Found There



Of news about places I loved which are closing forever because of the pandemic, I was most moved by an announcement I read online from San Cristobal, Chiapas, Mexico. Memories flooded in of Tierra Adentro, a restaurant under a high roof, a center for music and poets, and an outlet for goods made in Zapatista communities nearby struggling for existence. During the days I was researching my firstbook, Maya Roads, One Woman’s Journey Among the People of the Rainforest,  I met friends and sources there, reviewed my notes at night. All around, in  pamphlets for sale, written on rough boards, even printed on placemats, were a memorable words from an eclectic crowd that reflected the spirit of the place. I want to remember some of them (my translations) to make myself feel better, to recall Tierra Adentro in joy. 
Luckily, I saved a placemat.

“That two and two is necessarily four is an opinion many of us share. But if anyone sincerely thinks otherwise, let him or her speak up.  Nothing amazes us around here.”

---Antonio Machado

 

“Craziness is like gravity. All it needs is a little push.”

  ---Batman

 




“For the one who loves, a thousand objections do not make a doubt; for the who does not love, a thousand proofs do not make a certainty.”

---Louis Evely

 




“Sorry for the inconvenience. This is a revolution.”

 ---Sub-Comandante Marcos

 

“Utopia is on the horizon.  I walk two steps, she is two steps further away, and the horizon runs ten steps farther. So what good is utopia? For that, to walk on.”

Eduardo Galeano

 


 


     “If there is no coffee for all, there will be no coffee for anyone.”

---Ernesto “Che” Guevara

 

“My name is Esther, but that isn’t important now.  I am a Zapatista, but that’s not important either in this moment. I am indigenous and I am a woman, and that is the only thing that’s important now.”

---Comandante Esther



 

And from Guille, the brother of Mafalda:


‘"Isn’t it incredible how much there can be inside a pencil?"

                              

                                                                                                          

 

 

 

Friday, December 4, 2020

THE FOUR AMERICAN WOMEN MURDERED IN EL SALVADOR

WHY THEY MATTER TODAY--- SHOULD THEY BE MADE SAINTS?--- MY STORY UP NOW IN THE PROGRESSIVE

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

                   How Should a Good Catholic Vote?

My latest Op-Ed, running in Newsday, the Sacramento Bee, and a dozen other papers.

Miami Herald Logo
mcclatchydc Logo

OP-ED

President Trump? Joe Biden? What’s a good Catholic to do in November? | Opinion

 
Many Catholics are facing a dilemma as they consider the presidential candidates.
Many Catholics are facing a dilemma as they consider the presidential candidates.  GETTY IMAGES 

Catholics are being told not to vote Democratic because the party supports abortion. But we’re also told to oust President Trump because he violates a core Catholic teaching: respect for all life.

Trump, throughout his term, has restored federal capital punishment, put immigrant children in cages and reversed protections for the environment. Oh, and he lies.

So what’s a Catholic to do?

The dilemma throws a light on deep divisions in the U.S. branch of the Catholic Church, which has experienced a virtual schism since the elevation of Pope Francis in 2013. One side, like Francis, emphasizes social justice, a bigger role for women and an openness toward LGBTQ+, divorced and remarried Catholics. The other side stresses personal piety, long-established devotions and an unquestioning obedience to clergy.

Trump’s Supreme Court nominee, Amy Coney Barrett, a Catholic reportedly associated with a secretive, authoritarian group outside the Catholic mainstream known as People of Praise, draws support from the conservative side of the chasm. They hope Barrett will chip away at abortion rights.

This divide matters for anyone aiming to predict the “Catholic vote” in November. We are the country’s largest religious denomination (more than 51 million adults), we vote (more than 75 percent in 2016), and the majority of Catholic voters have picked the winning presidential candidate in nine out of the last 10 elections. Last time, most of us went for Trump.

This time, neither candidate can seem to get a firm grip on a Catholic bloc. We don’t align completely with either Joe Biden, a practicing Catholic who carries a rosary in his pocket and comfortably quotes Scripture or Trump, for whom opposition to abortion is a campaign centerpiece. The division in the pews has become too stark.

”We need you more than ever,” Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York told Trump in an April phone call concerning the plight of Catholic schools during the pandemic. With some 600 Catholics on the line, Trump turned the call into a campaign event, touted his stands against abortion and for “school choice,” calling himself the “best (president) in the history of the Catholic Church.”

The social-justice side of the divide was outraged. Why didn’t the bishops bring up white nationalism or immigration? As 1,500 Catholic leaders, priests and theologians wrote in an open letter to Dolan, “There is nothing ‘pro-life’ about Trump’s agenda.”

The Catholic far-right fringe, however, overlaps with the hardcore MAGA crowd. Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano, a former papal ambassador to the United States, used the language of the QAnon conspiracy theory in a June letter to the president, committing himself and other “children of light” to the “Biblical” contest with the “children of darkness . . . offspring of the Serpent.”

Vigano compared the alleged “deep state” to the alleged existence of a heretical “deep church.” Trump gave Vigano’s followers a nudge toward the mainstream by tweeting his letter and appreciation.

Even COVID-19 causes disagreement. While many U.S. prelates and pastors are opting to follow public-health guidelines by televising or live-streaming masses, others decry restrictions on gatherings as violations of religious freedom. Milwaukee’s Archbishop Jerome Listecki, for example, told his flock that physically missing mass is a sin, and that “fear of getting sick, in and of itself, does not excuse someone from the obligation.”

Despite the severe divide in the church, it is ultimately up to individual Catholics to decide how to vote. But no matter how we mark our ballots, the November outcome won’t be a unified, predictable “Catholic vote.”

As key Catholic thinkers have concluded over the centuries, “one’s own conscience must be obeyed before all else.”

Mary Jo McConahay is an Alicia Patterson Fellow. She is the author of “The Tango War: The Struggle for the Hearts, Minds, and Riches of Latin America during World War II.” 

Tribune News Service


Thursday, June 18, 2020

Animal Dreams

Wild Boar. Barcelona Street

                                        Animal Dreams

This morning the radio came on while I was still half asleep, so that I dreamed the news: a mountain lion was walking on Channel Street, just a few yards from my boat, tied up next to the Fourth Street bridge.  But I didn't live on my boat any more.  What could be happening?


Locked down for months, cities like San Francisco are welcoming animals.  Or, if not welcomed, the animals, at least, are probing, sometimes sauntering down empty streets.



I half dreamed the coyotes that made a den under the massive fig that grew in the orange grove around the house at the foot of the mountains where I grew up.  They kept to themselves under there, especially when the pups were small, but sometimes the mother or the father would prance up the long driveway, have a look at the big white house, turn around and go back to the fig. Coyotes have long been sighted in San Francisco, but they now appear with displays of ownership.  They may stretch along the Embarcadero with the bridge looming like a virtual Zoom background.  Or they are right in North Beach, among the Italian cafes and Larry Ferlinghetti's City Lights. Maybe they cross the Golden Gate at night.

 Monkeys. Near Bangkok










Sea Lion. Mar de Plata Street. Argentina


Silk Deer. Nara, Japan

How thin the line is between civilization and nature, still, even now, and how wonderful that is.  Maybe we will not kill the planet.
The lockdown gives me hope.


Wild Goat, Wales

Wednesday, May 29, 2019





 Carnaval!





First there's lots of preparation




 

Then the parade starts with Low Riders and Quinceañeras






This year's San Francisco Carnaval, the 41st, had the theme, La Cultura Cura, that is, "Culture Cures."  Here is what the organizers said about it on their WEBSITE
"During the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, art and music was used to galvanize and inspire community action, while healing the minds, bodies, and souls of people."  Everybody knows we need some "curing" these days. So the Carnaval is "a social and moral statement to counter the polarized political environment in the U.S. today."  AND IT's REALLY FUN!














There are lots of photo-ops








And lots of chances for selfies 







Tomorrow the people I know in the parade will go back to being an orthopedic surgeon, a day laborer, a lawyer, a trash collector, a data analyst, a student, a teacher, a social worker







But today, it's Carnaval!




Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Trump’s border follies ignore history. The U.S. and Latin America are interdependent
This Opinion piece of mine recently ran in The Los Angeles Times


As President Trump rails against border crossers from friendly countries to the south, it is worth observing that, when convenient to U.S. purposes, we have brought in our Latin neighbors by the thousands, through bi-national agreements and even by force.

During World War II, the United States kidnapped more than 6,000 residents of Latin American countries, selecting those with German, Japanese or Italian roots, and transported them in ships’ holds or crowded cabins and in trains with blacked-out windows to concentration camps, mostly in Texas. There they were held, sometimes for years, for potential use in trade for U.S. civilians caught behind enemy lines in Europe and the Pacific. At the same time, under an agreement with Mexico we imported hundreds of thousands of farm workers to cover a wartime labor shortage.

The secret wartime capture operation, called Quiet Passages, is a blight on our history. The WWII bracero program, which recruited Mexicans anxious for work, was a success, ensuring a stable food supply for U.S. troops and the home front. Unlike residents of other nations caught up in the war, Americans suffered little in their daily food intake. Eventually abuses crept into the bracero program; nevertheless, some 4.5 million Mexican workers labored legally in the U.S. under the agreement until it was terminated in 1966.

When convenient to U.S. purposes, we have brought in our Latin neighbors by the thousands, through bi-national agreements and even by force.

On a spring day in 1943, six months after the bracero agreement was signed, President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Mexican President Manuel Ávila Camacho sat side by side in high-backed chairs at a rose-covered banquet table in Monterrey, trading viewpoints that are important, even poignant, to remember.

Geography made the border between the U.S. and Mexico , which was unfortified and undefended, “a natural bridge of conciliation between the Latin and the Saxon cultures of the continent,” said Ávila. A year later, 300 fliers of Mexican Air Force Squadron 201 trained in Texas and Idaho before making bombing runs over Luzon and Formosa during the liberation of the Philippines and ferrying aircraft from Papua New Guinea to the Pacific theater for the Allies fighting Japan. Minerals vital for military equipment and ammunition flowed from Mexico to U.S. war industries — copper, zinc, mercury, cadmium, graphite, lead.

“We have all of us recognized the principle of independence,” Roosevelt said. “It is time that we recognize also the privilege of interdependence — one upon another.”

During the Central American wars in the 1980s, a wag among reporters called the El Salvador conflict “the war you could drive to,” but the road ran both ways. At night in San Salvador, a local radio program took calls from neighborhoods in Los Angeles, which was then becoming the world’s second largest Salvadoran metropolis. To the Rivas family of Santa Tecla — thank God we have arrived. For safety and community, young Salvadoran refugees formed gangs in Los Angeles; deported members wrought violence when they returned to their homeland, which now drives other Salvadorans to the United States. The war you could drive to became a Möbius strip, endlessly traveled.

In Guatemala, Central America’s largest country, people head north with little regard for obstacles. “Ya no da,” an indigenous Maya friend of mine says about the fields near her highland village; the earth no longer “gives forth” as it did before climate change brought drought, or excessive rains.

A border wall, or even the threat of seeing their children held in cages, does not stop people from leaving. What would slow or stop them is positive change at home. Nobody wants to be a refugee.
Among efforts that have helped to keep Latin Americans from fleeing north are private programs such as one a friend founded with private donations almost 30 years ago, which has benefited hundreds of Guatemalan children and their families, providing the shoes and books they must have for school, and after school, teaching skills that can be applied to professional work. I remember the first youngsters to join; they were living in the city dump, unable to read or write. Now they have jobs in government and media and run the program themselves. (They call themselves Fotokids, after the first skill they learned, photography.) They don’t want to leave their families, or Guatemala.

Instead of blustering about asylum seekers and cutting aid to Central America, Trump should ensure that assistance goes to non-government organizations with proven records on the ground. Save the Children and Catholic Relief Services, for instance, have worked in the region for decades, providing services such as free monthly check-ups for infants, and they are present in crises, like last year’s volcanic eruptions in Guatemala. Groups like these can be trusted to know the region and bypass entrenched and corrupt elites.

Successful government programs should not be cut but reinforced. In El Salvador, violence has been reduced by 61% in municipalities where the Agency for International Development funds programs. Technical assistance to Honduran farmers has reduced soil erosion by 70,000 tons, encouraging farm families to stay put.

With or without a wall, our southern border is just a thin line winding across rivers and ranch land and enormous stretches of desert. That vast landscape is inhabited by neighbors who can each benefit the other in multiple ways. All that is required is a recognition of the interdependence of the countries of our hemisphere, of which President Roosevelt so eloquently spoke at a time when that recognition was a matter of life or death.



Monday, July 16, 2018



AND THE BLOG IS BACK!



 Finally, after more than five years of research and writing, tens of thousands of miles flown, driven and traveled by bus, hours of interviews on three continents and untold drafts, The Tango War debuts on September 18.  And I am back to this blog!


I am profoundly glad the story of World War II in Latin America as I saw it will be out in the world.  But curiously, I'm already missing those research trips to small town archives such as I found in Blumenau and Joinville, towns in heavily German southern Brazil. There I could personally handle ephemera like invitations to the local Nazi movie night and satire from the times, propelling me back into an age before I was born. 

There I also saw first hand the kind of information local residents, cut off from many kinds of news by the war, were receiving in the mail, often about the devastation in Germany, where many still had families.

I also miss those trips to the classic mega-depositories of information such as the Rockefeller Archives in snowy (when I was there) upstate New York and the Hoover Institution on the campus of Stanford University, and The Royal Geographic Society in London. I even miss having to take an antihistamine before each visit to the Hemeroteca in Guatemala City where I could peruse years of original newspapers from the 1930s and 1940s, papers whose decomposing pages made me sneeze anyway.  Most of all I miss those interviews where generous sources pulled out albums and showed family photos. On the left below, Heidi Gurcke Donald touches an image of her father Werner, a young German businessman who married Heidi's mother Starr in California before they moved  to Costa Rica, where Heidi and her sister were born.  The family lived happily in Central America until all were taken to a U.S. concentration camp as suspicious "aliens."  Guatemala-born Maya Sapper, right, showed me a series of photos of her idyllic childhood among her family's coffee ranches in Alta Verapaz, Guatemala, a memorable period that lasted until her father, too, was taken away by U.S. authorities during the war.

Heidi's and Maya's stories are told in The Tango War along with many others. Could I have told them without traveling from home, using books, phone and artifacts pictured only on the internet? Maybe. But they would not have been the same stories.  And Tango would not be the same book.

Order The Tango War from your your local independent bookstore or online  or wherever books are sold.

Visit www.tangowar.com and see the trailer