Saturday, September 30, 2006

Keep on Rockin' in the 3rd World

I had the tables turned on me in my classroom the other day. Actually, that's a pretty frequent occurence as you can see by this photo. My students are debating the finer points of their homework assignment(an assignment they did not do).

But this was different, this time we were teetering on a very fundamental explanation and understanding of journalism, functional democracy and Perú.

It all started with this guy...on the right...Rául Vargas...host of the most popular morning news program in Perú.

In the spirit, thankfully just the spirit, of Howard Stern or Imus in the US, RPP radio has put it´s morning news program on TV. The technology of the host, considered the dean of radio here in Lima, has not caught up with the technology of the radio. He was sleeping on camera during an interview the other day. The kind of sleeping where you doze off and your head lowers until your chin hits your chest, and then you wake up briefly. Pretty entertaining. He ramped it up a notch when he picked his nose and tightened his tie a couple of hundred times all the while harrumphing at various guests.

OK, enough of my condemnation of radio on TV. RPP has a segment it inserts in its morning program called Rotafono. People from around the country can call in and broadcast live a problem they have, a service that they need, a crime that has been committed against them, any variety of need based issues. At first this seemed a bit of a marketing stunt. People like to hear other peoples problems. Then I listened more intently and realized that the radio hosts were actually promising help. A kind of "we´ll see what we can do to help." Red flags were going up all around my apartment. Did this journalist just cross a line that should not be crossed?

It got even more complicated...

Listen to the audio: http://media.odeo.com/0/6/0/rotafono.mp3

Alright, so the kicker...and even if you don´t speak Spanish you might have picked up on this one, the lady gives her phone number over live radio, broadcast to all of Perú.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

So I went to my class armed with this example of what I thought was the teachable moment.

I assumed they would all agree that journalism outfits have a reponsibility to protect their listeners best interests. Mainly not broadcast personal information to all Peruvians. I also wanted to plant the seed as to whether or not they felt it was the job of journalists and RPP radio to formally aid Peruvians in need. To get them to a hospital, or help them find a way to pay a bill, etc..

Let´s just say the gringo was wrong. I got a unified rejection. In fact the defense of this practice went beyond a debate. Rotafono is the single most important thing in Peruvian media according to some of my students. If RPP radio didn´t help those people, who would? Who would they turn to? As for the telephone number being read out over the air...some students said that allowed other Peruvians to call that person and help them.

So, taking one giant step back, I tried to make heads or tails of this. While I had not slept through journalism 101, apparently I had been sleeping during Understanding Perú 101, I think it´s a correspondence course down at the local CC.

During the 80´s and early 90´s when terrorist attacks happened around and in Lima, RPP served as kind of a warning siren for the public. People knew that to get the latest on a bombing they had to tune in. If they couldn´t find a loved one they had to tune in. This relationship between the public and the media is ingrained in a way that I have no reference to. These are not experiences I have had.

After the debate in my classroom I am entrenched in getting a better beat on society and politics here before I take on journalism again. I am thinking of calling in to Rotafono and explaining that I am a lost gringo who is desperately hoping to understand how things work here. Something tells me I should not give them my number.

PS-while Sherlock Holmes my have tripped up with Rotafono, he certainly did find a clue on another matter. In their morning newscast RPP included, as a news item, the expansion of one of their music radio stations to broadcast around the country. A beauty of a commercial but not news. I won that battle.

Friday, September 29, 2006


Enter Doorman(Portero)
Who are the people in your neighborhood Capítulo 4

The final part to my Peruvian trinity of informality are the trusty and engaging doormen to my building. Mind you I have yet to meet a single resident of my building(again the formal sector seems too busy for the gringo). But what would be considered an informal sector friendship has blossomed with my doormen. They work 8 hour shifts, and the one day they get off a week means somebody has to work a double. That is a lot of door opening, no matter how nice the door.

I´ll start with Enrique. He is probably the most engaged Peruvian I have met so far. He is constantly consuming and analyzing the news. We have dissected Socialism, the theoretical side of terrorism. "One Man´s terrorist is another man´s freedom fighter"
We have talked Chavez and Bush, the economy of Perú, the war in Iraq, and poverty.
I think Enrique gets scolded for talking to me too much by the building manager. I tried to make up for this by purchasing him the occasional Inka Cola, his favorite. He´d make a darn good Peruvian President, but in the meantime, he´s the most engaged doorman on the block.

Oscar

Oscar gets the night shift a lot of the time. Most nights I get home and he´s there braving the chilly lobby(it´s still winter here). Last night I got home and he was wearing a New York Knicks parka with the hood up. I wanted to slap him five and talk about Sprewell, but I figured he didn´t buy the coat because he was a baller.
He likes to call me Señor Hardman, which makes me feel like I should own a granja (sprawling country estate).
Oscar likes the finer things in life. Mainly movies and the occasional trip to the Casino.
He explained his gambling strategy to me. In one pocket he keeps a 20 soles note, the other, a 50. He starts with the 20 and tries to work some magic. If that fails, he brings out the big guns.
Casinos began to pop up during the reign of President Fujimori. They are everywhere in the city, mostly featuring slots or tragamonedas as they are called here.

Pastor
Little is known about the mysterious Pastor.
He is a curious fellow and he works hard. I give him fits because I use the staircase instead of the elevator, thereby nullifying his task of opening the elevator door. He often runs to the door or the elevator to get there before the resident.
Pastor is never without his black suit and matching five o´clock shadow. I like to muse that in his spare time he is a contract killer or something like that. He would definately be cast in the Peruvian version of the film Reservoir Dogs.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006


Who are the people in your neighborhood Part 3

I also get a daily dose of informality and often friendship on the way to and from the University I teach at. Cabs here are a lot like locust, they swarm around the city, covering its highways and roads in a dark cloud of exhaust. There is little regulation of this industry, therefore it is everybody’s favorite second career. All you need is a car and a homemade Taxi sign.


The Mayor of Lima defended this seemingly unmonitored problem the other day by saying that they are just people trying to make a living during tough economic times.
Using taxi´s as a way to get up to speed on the basic information of a new place is an oldschool journalism trick and by now a bit of a cliché.
For me it is also a chance to work on my Spanish twice a day, learn local vernacular, and I also use the cab drivers as low paid therapists on my way home from teaching.
My daily forty minutes of cab time has also allowed me to begin an informal study of the media here. I engage cabbies in their radio listening preferences. Oxigen which plays rock hits from the 70’s and 80’s is a cab favorite. One cabbie and Oxigen fan, who went by Johnny, had a Jersey mullet and in between explaining the ins and outs of eating Cuy(guinea pig), talked about Bon Jovi and Barry White.
For information people listen to RPP, Radio Programas Peruanos. The news is read at the speed of someone calling the Kentucky Derby. Here's a sample: http://media.odeo.com/2/3/8/rpp.mp3
They tag team the news headlines and I am convinced every hour somebody is crowned a winner. In between the news races there are a variety of talk programs. Most reporting is done live from cell phones. Production, aside from the board engineer, is relatively non existent.

Cabbies like the program, Los Chistosos, which is an hour and a half of slapstick humor. Lots of laugh tracks, funny accents, and the occasional donkey soundbite.
I cannot say I understand every joke on this show, but I do get why people love it. The beauty of a joke is that one can communicate and speculate things that might not be appropriate in a more formal setting. Some of the more poignant political and social analysis, especially in a country with a history of press repression, can come from a program like Los Chistosos because the hosts are freed of the responsibility to report the facts, or in some cases, free to talk and speculate about sensitive facts. This format is perfect for a cab driver who spends his day piecing together the social and political fabric of Lima through his cadre of interactions.

I also ask cabbies about what papers they read or what tv station they watch for news. Straw poll says #1 ranking goes to….drum roll….Discovery Channel.
Do not get me wrong, I enjoy talking about the finer details of Shark attacks and Mummies, but as a journalist again I find myself a little dismayed. Of course you are probably thinking to yourself at this very moment, ¨What do you expect to hear? You are surveying taxi drivers after all.¨ In my opinion this is exactly where the interests and habits of cab drivers are especially relevant. If the goal of the media is to create an informed public, then the public, that means everybody including cab drivers (especially cab drivers), must be engaged.

I had a cab driver give a personal testimonial of why he mistrusted the press. He described a night where a group of kidnappers commandeered his car, robbed a bank, and then, upon being caught, he was accused by the police of aiding them.
He said the TV news cameras arrived at the scene and after hearing his account of the events proceeded to broadcast that while he said the following, cab drivers are known to not tell the whole truth.


My favorite comment came from a cabbie who remarked, “you know what I like about you gringos, you are fearless.” I wasn’t sure if he meant fearless in a gung ho Hollywood induced image kind of way, or something else. It takes some chipping away to explain how gringos really are as opposed to what people learn about us through tv and movies. But if he meant fearless in that I got in his cab, despite the handmade sign, well, perhaps I am naïve, but if that is what it takes to get to know this place, sign me up.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Who are the people in your neighborhood? Part 2

I am trying to navigate the aforementioned formality vs. informality of Lima.

I want to fit in and to fit in one needs a guide.

I am routinely told not to go anywhere alone, but since the majority of those telling me to be careful (the formal sector) are relatively too busy to do the accompanying themselves, I am forced to When in Rome.
I have outsourced this job to the informal sector.

So far my cohorts in Lima consist of a cadre of doormen, taxi drivers and some Saturday afternoon footballers (most of whom wash cars in my neighborhood for a living). I have met them in a variety of ways, but all are eager to explain, show, and muse about Lima and Peru.

To them I am gringo or colorado (I have tried to explain to them that while in Spanish this refers to my colored hair(red), in the US it is a state, not unlike Peru, with mountains and carwashes too). Soccer is often my gateway into this world. The people who came to install my phone the other day saw the banner I picked up at a local soccer match. They happened to be supporters of the rival team and joked about installing my phone incorrectly. I assured them that the banner was simply a souvenir, and that secretly I really liked their team.
The fact that I know any team here in Lima often gives me some street cred.
In the vain of ¨Charlie Don´t Surf,¨ down here, ¨Gringos don’t play football.¨
When asked by one of my sponsors here what I did last weekend, I couldn’t lie, I explained I had played football down at the beach, something I was instructed specifically not to do.
Cuidado, I was told.
But after a few weeks, I have to say, unless my team of cachorros are planning an elaborate kidnapping/heist, I am most convinced they, if anything, have my back. Scoring goals buys self preservation, analyze that international market truth Mr. Greenspan.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Who are the people in your neighborhood
Part 1

Lima is by all standards a rather informal place. People tend to not arrive on time, class starts when the moment feels right, and the foundation of the economy here is run on the predication that it is too expensive and time consuming to get a license to do most things, so why bother.
I am trying very hard to get with the program, I want to fit in.

Based on the neighborhood I reside in, I have a view of a golfcourse, and where I work, a private University, the general class I find myself in the company of is upper, and in keeping with my research model, ¨Formal.¨
Latin American has one of the world’s more staggering rates of economic disparity. The assumption is if you can make it this far to visit, you have some moolah, and therefore will be spending your time in certain areas.

Among my current formal contacts there is general concern for my well being, there is also a sense of understanding; most have visited the US. They know New York(Some of my students know NYC better than Lima), Miami, LA, and in so knowing, some consider themselves to know me. I am estadounidense(United Stateser…when will this term finally make it into US vernacular?). Others, and I always appreciate this, have for one reason or another landed in more obscure spots in the US. I met someone who spent a year of high school in Kansas. The nearest thing of note, he said, was an Amelia Erhardt landmark. I met another person who had lived in Vermont and Utah. People like this understand that just as to know Lima is not to know the entirety of Peru, to know New York is the tip of the iceberg.

I had a diplomat, formerly stationed in D.C., tell me “Oh, I know your country very well, Very Well.” To prove this he described his drive to work from Maryland and how he would listen to NPR and how some days he would be forced to remain in his car because a particular radio story would be so riveting.
No offense, but I traveled all this way so I wouldn’t have to talk about NPR driveway moments at dinner parties for a spell.
Being the curious fellar that I am, I asked him what he knew of Anacostia, D.C.’s more troubled area. “Oh I know this place, this is a place of nothing, of drunk people and poverty.”


Certainly this response is not unique to a Peruvian, it would be just as easy to hear it from a United Stateser or Russian or anyone.
It is more to illustrate the point that to know a place is to know a place in its entirety, the nooks and crannies and everything in between. Something I am attempting to accomplish here.

Monday, September 04, 2006

I have been in Peru nearly a month. So far I know these things to be true.

---this photo is not out of focus.

Lima appears skyless to me most days...as if the grey, which locals refer to as the color of a donkey´s stomach, is more complex than just clouds. I am told that the humidity of the climate clashing with the cold ocean water creates the impenetrable cover.

The effect is somewhere between a Garcia Marquez dream state and Orwell's 1984.

In an attempt to lighten the mood Peruvians drink their national soda, Inca Kola, the color of sunshine. Inca Kola is not just the sabor de Peru, but the strange bright yellow concoction, which tastes a lot like drinking a stick of Juicy Fruit gum, encapsulates local pride.
In fact Inca Kola is so powerful that it was outselling Coca Cola here. Nothing like spinning globalization on its head. Of course Coke proceeded to buy Inca Kola, but what else is new. Look for it at your local bodega.

Peruvian journalism (the reason I am here) is alive and well, but few locals seem to care. There is a distrust here that pervades a lot of things, especially the press. Small press stands sell upwards of 15 different newspapers, most of them tabloids or "Chichas." Chichas grew under the former president Fujimori who wanted to dilute public information with distractions from the real news, the result, scantilly clad señoritas on page 1. A number of news outlets were shut down or handcuffed during his reign. Many others took substantial bribes from Fujimori's intelligence chief, Vlademir Montesinos. Although I am told bribes have always existed, just not as egregious.

Mistrust is a part of life here.
An often heard goodbye is ¨Cuidate¨meaning take care, or be careful...although here it is said with a hint of worry, as if something bad is going to happen. I am beginning to understand that this is what happens when a country truly knows terrorism.
I am routinely warned about going anywhere by myself. Upon hearing of my plan to go to a local soccer match between the two Lima powers, my doorman hatched an elaborate plan to get me into the stadium and back home without getting the crap beaten out of me. Needless to say I encountered few problems and was happy to see how the other 90% of Lima lives.

You can kind of see me a few rows over from the flares. My team has just scored.
I think the most surprising thing about Peru is that its paralysis is subtle. The outward face is one of upward mobility and pride, but inside is a ball of emotion. I sat in on a local radio program today where the host interviewed a local psychologist. He anaylzed the Peruvian psyche and tried to get at the cloud of insecurity and percieved inferiority that keeps what seems to be a country that has everything down.
I am beginning to believe that the ominous sky here in Lima is a reflection of a much deeper issue, something that lies inside those who walk these streets.