Pena de Muerte

As a radio journalist I have recorded hundreds of events, press conferences and interviews over the years. Many of these audio encounters have faded from my memory. One recording that will stay with me forever is of George Ryan, the former Governor or the US State of Illinois. Governor Ryan was not supposed to be a memorable guy. He was an older heavyset white man with white hair, a former pharmacist, not a particularly gifted speaker, and on the political side he was deeply embroiled in corruption charges. Ryan was hardly the reincarnation of Abraham Lincoln, Illinois’s most famous son. But on an otherwise unremarkable day at a low key gathering of law students at Loyola University, Governor Ryan did something extremely remarkable. He cried. I will never forget that moment. Nobody who was in the room will ever forget that moment.
It is rare that we see such emotion from politicians, especially when it is genuine. Ryan had just announced his intention to commute the sentences of more than a 100 prisoners who were then on Illinois’s death row. A series of investigations had led to the exoneration of more than 15 inmates since Illinois had reinstituted the death penalty in 1977. Ryan said his conscience would not allow him to continue to support a system that was not perfect. Some very high profile cases had ended in death row prisoners being found innocent. Naturally people wondered if innocent people had indeed been executed. “No more,” said Ryan, and he proceeded to follow through on his promise, closing death row and changing the sentences of its more than 150 prisoners to life without parole.
One of the most famous cases that led to Ryan’s decision was that of Anthony Porter, a Chicago native who was sentenced to die for the 1982 shooting deaths of two people on the city’s south side. The United States was caught up in the 80’s in a movement to “Get Tough on Crime.” This led to record numbers of arrests and in big cities like Chicago, widespread abuses by police, politicians, and courts looking to clean up the streets. In Anthony Porter’s case he was a black man involved in gangs in neighborhoods that were notorious for crime. That is to say he was an easy target for a police force looking to make progress on crime. One witness to the double murder was shown a photograph of Porter and threatened by police to testify that Porter was responsible. Porter’s court case was marked by an incompetent lawyer and an unsympathetic judge. He was sentenced to die.
In 1998, 50 hours before Anthony Porter was supposed to be killed, a court reviewed information regarding Porter’s IQ and decided that he lacked the mental competence to understand his pending situation. The court delayed his execution. With this window of opportunity a journalism professor from Chicago’s Northwestern University and some of his students began to review Porter’s case. Professor David Protess’s class investigated the details of the murders and began to follow up on evidence that the Chicago police neglected. This investigation led to the confession of another man to the two murders that Porter was sentenced to die for. Porter was exonerated and immediately released from prison.
As a journalist I must admit this type of investigation is nothing short of remarkable. Professor Protess and his journalism students saved the lives of at least 4 death row inmates over the past decade. Their actions were directly linked to the decision by former Illinois Governor George Ryan to eliminate the death penalty in his state. While I revel in the success of quality journalism and investigation, I am disturbed that it takes college students to do the necessary work to determine culpability. I am disturbed that a negligent system that included cops, politicians, prosecutors, judges and even juries, were responsible for the wrongful convictions of innocent people. I am disturbed that a political desire to appear tough on crime led to human rights abuses and miscarriages of justice.
Can a society control all the variables that make up the good and the bad of daily life? Inevitably societies encounter flaws in their structures. Thankfully many societies realize the benefits of liberal democracies where courts, representatives, and a free press can keep an eye on each other, revealing and correcting deficiencies and mistakes. Even in a high functioning democratic society not all flaws will be caught; at least that is what former Illinois Governor George Ryan decided. Ryan said that he would never feel 100 percent sure that every death row conviction would be justified, and therefore, the system could not be justified.
I am a visiting journalist in Perú teaching future reporters and training those already working in the business. I have watched as rhetoric from Peruvian President Alan Garcia has increased, calling for his Congress and all Peruvians to support his desire to institute a death penalty in Perú. I have watched as the list of those who would be eligible for the death penalty has quickly grown from child rapists to include terrorists. I am waiting for that list to inevitably grow. If there is one thing I can share from the experience of my country, the United States, it is that once you engage the idea that societies can determine who deserves to die, not who deserves to pay for a crime, but who deserves to die, you open up a can of worms.
I was not in Perú during the 1980´s and 1990´s when tens of thousands died. I do not know what that is like and do not propose to understand the pain and suffering that occurred here in Perú. I have had the fortune to work with a group of journalists here in Perú that at one time were jailed as political prisoners. I do not know their complete histories, nor do I know or care about their political leanings. I am simply helping them to become better journalists. To refer to these people as terrorists, which is a common label thrown at them, would be to paint them with a very broad brush. I have never heard an inflammatory or hateful word come from these people. From my observation they are simply trying to piece together lives that were interrupted and forever changed by long jail sentences and in many cases torture. It is especially here that I cringe at the thought of the death penalty in Perú. The possibility that people caught up in a very complicated and violent period of time could yet be sentenced to die for things they may or may not have done. Is Perú ready to let anger and sadness dictate their acceptance of a system that is proven to be flawed, a system that sentences people to die?
Anthony Porter was a gang member during a time in the United States when politicians where using high rates of crime as a way to get elected. Porter was guilty of living in a bad neighborhood during a time when he and most of his peers were in gangs. Did he kill two people? No. Was he sentenced to die? Yes. At the end of the day George Ryan will never be considered the best or brightest politician in the United States, but I believe he was one of the bravest. It is yet to be seen what kind of President Alan Garcia will be. Playing on peoples’ anger, fears and sad memories is a precarious path. If President Garcia is as serious about making the death penalty a solution to terrorism and other crimes, he better be developing the necessary infrastructure that will ensure justice as best as it can be measured in human terms. Even if this is achieved, courts, politicians and most importantly journalists better be ready to take on the task of investigating and doing what they can to make sure the capital punishment system is not killing innocent people. Recent history has taught Peruvians that death can come easy. As a democratic society that should be a warning, not a concept to embrace.

Hitting the streets

I had the fortune of shadowing a local radio reporter here in Lima a few weeks ago.

The day starts early, 5 a.m., but I am used to it after years of the early morning news shift in Chicago. When you get up that early you are dealing with a very select group of people, most of them doing some serious labor and not sitting in an ergonomic chair, zoning out at a computer like I was.

You get to know everybody who is up at that hour because there are only two trains or busses an hour. Everybody is pretty dilligent because if you miss the half hour deadline, you will be late to work.

I remember one guy who always used to wait at the bus stop with me. Everyday he arrived with a small lunch cooler, suspenders, a flannel sweatshirt and a hat emblazoned with the term "Head-Butt." We never spoke. He did not appear to have many teeth so that was probably for the best. But I did feel some sort of kinship to him, a strange pride that comes with the notion that everybody else is still in bed. He would get off a few stops before me at a construction site.

I always loved the early morning construction guys because they would be up so early that lunch time landed around 9 a.m., when most other people were getting to work. They would be lined up at a portable lunch wagon ordering ham and cheese sandwiches and burgers while people walked by with their latte's.

I digress...

Back to Lima and the present. So I got up at 4 and hit the RPP radio studios at 5, the sun was starting to rise as it is summer. The morning news program, Rotativa del Aire kicks off around 5 a.m.. I was matched up with one of the staff beat reporters who spends the day moving around the city collecting news. Lima has no public transit system, so unlike the old days when I would hop on a train to catch a press conference, the RPP reporters have not only company cars, but drivers. This service is referred to as movil, and it is, more than anything, a very creative marketing tool. Obviously a tv crew warrants a truck and driver based on equipment and deadlines. You don´t really need a truck to lug around one microphone, a tape recorder and a pair of headphones. It appears to make even less sense in the case of RPP where reporters mainly file stories almost exclusively via cell phone. But don´t underestimate the beauty of a car with a shiny logo. The movil service doubles as a very visible marketing tool. People constantly came up to the car throughout the day to share news, say thanks or just chat. RPP has succesfully sold itself as the media of the people.

So I hopped in the back of the car with the equipment (cell phone and notepad) and went along for the ride.

We started the morning in the La Victoria district, at a local fruit market-distribution center for the city. The joint was hopping at 5:30 a.m. as people were getting their supplies for the day. Lima has both a growing number of formal supermarkets and continues to host an army of corner fruit stands.

The news...rains in the eastern Peruvian jungle were killing the papaya and pineapple imports. We got ahold of the market manager who oversees an impressive 3 thousand different vendors inside the market. We chatted with the guy for about ten minutes, getting the details on the papaya pandemic.

So, being a neophyte, I began to wonder why we weren´t recording our encounter. Where was the microphone and tape recorder? In a flash my reporter flipped open his cell phone, called into the RPP board, and next thing I knew he was live filing a report. The most impressive part of the 2 minute news flash was how he set up the quote from the market manager. He put the phone in the man´s face, got a ten second quote, and slipped right back into his internal script. That kind of mini report used to take me a good half hour to write, cut the sound bite, and voice back in the day. And I thought I had it down to a science. So, considering what I had just witnessed, I was left feeling a little bit like a sloth with a Western Union Telegraph machine trying to tell the world that my tree is on fire.

We hustled out of the market to our waiting chariot. The beauty of having a driver with the company car is we never have to find parking, which is tough when you are manuevering 3 thousand fruit vendors with carts and trucks.

Next stop,

Breakfast.

Yes I know, this image is of a plate of fried rice. But when you get up at 4 you have got to find away to keep the tank full of energy. So we headed to a lunch counter inside a typically kiosk flooded Peruvian comercial center. My options where fried rice or pasta with meat sauce. I went with the pasta, mi estimado had an enormous plate of chaufa, or Peruvian-Chinese fried rice. Just as we sat down to eat a tv news crew rolled up. Apparently this was the spot for the early morning news hounds. A few slaps on the backs and jokes later we were on our way again. For the record, spaghetti breath at 6 a.m. is a little rough.

The TV reporters gave us a hot tip on a press conference at the soccer stadium for a local club. Some fans had breached security and nearly killed a rival the previous weekend and an announcement was expected handing down a punishment to the team. So we headed to the suburbs where the stadium was. A half hour later we got word nothing was going to happen. Perhaps it was a food coma, or the already blazing 7 a.m sun, but next thing I remember it was 8 a.m. and I was waking up from a nap in the back seat. Apparently I didn´t miss anything. Another bum press conference later and we were off to San Miguel. We pulled up to a curb in a neighborhood adjacent to the ocean. I was told it was a personal visit and not to get out of the car with the reporter. Interesting.

He put on his designer sun glasses and disappeared for 20 minutes.

The driver of the car seemed fairly adept at being the opposite of his cohort, he was very good at not asking questions. Next stop, the reporter´s house where we waited another 20 minutes, he returned with wet hair, apparently it was time for a quick shower. By this point the sun was so hot that my t-shirt was starting to stick to the synthetic back seat. Mr. so fresh and so clean was revived and ready to hit another press conference. Mr. Hardman was hot, sweaty, smelled like spaghetti, and ready to go home.

Luckily the next press conference was on. We entered the swanky offices of Perús most powerful business coalition. There were actually two press conferences going on. The first was definitely the opening act. Peru´s Minister of industry was announcing a new partnership between the government and the local Yellow Pages to promote Peruvian made goods.

The minister, Rafael Rey Rey (translation Rafael King King) walked into the room flanked by two models in matching Yellow Pages jumpsuits. He was dragging on a cigarette and looked about as trustworthy as a second hand Yugo. He paused, checked out the crowd, an assistant came over waited as he took one last deep inhale, then she took the cigarette from him to extinguish. He proceeded up to the stage and sat down at the table while a, literally, 5 minute presentation took place.

Mr. ReyRey in another important moment inspecting toilets

A host of tv and radio stations were on hand. Around seven microphones were set up at the table, some of them were not connected to cables, which generally means they are remotes. Not in this case. Some radio stations had no intention, or possibly no capacity, to record the press conference. Their microphones were at the table so their company logos would be in the tv camera shots. Again, marketing rules the world.

After the presentation a few nice words were said and it was time to drink. 10:30 a.m. and a line of waiters in tuxedos walked in the room with platters full of pisco sours, Perús flagship alcoholic drink. Rey Rey and the Yellow Pages CEO drank first, and then everybody was offered a drink to celebrate the occasion.

I was again at a loss for words. My reporter in tow was nowhere to be found. While polishing off some more pisco sours Rey Rey took some questions. Some of the radio reporters hid small tape recorders under their logo flanked microphones that were again connected to thin air.

The Yellow Pages girls tried to slide into as many press photos and video shots as possible. The mood was more Vegas superfight weigh-in than political press conference.

My reporter appeared, he had been outside smoking. This press conference wasn´t worth the time he said. The next one happening in the same building in a half hour was the big one. The coalition of big business owners were going to shoot down a government proposed new wage law. It sounded like legit news which both excited me and threatened to ruin what to this point was a terrifically insane morning. I thanked my reporter, waved goodbye to the Yellow Pages girls and headed back out into the hot sun. (I must apologize, I did not have a camera with me this day and I will never forgive myself. But, I hope my words do justice and that you believe that every last thing I wrote is VERDAD.)

Economics of Peru: Needs More Color

This inflatable Spiderman turned up at a recent festival. As you can see in this photo his chest was tatooed with the message, ¨needs more color,¨which I thought was a nice symbol of economic reality down here in Latin America. I am guessing somebody got a window office for finding a market for these ill-fated super heroes from the island of reject toys.

So Peru imports Spiderman imposters and exports its rock minerals, natural gas, and bountiful agriculture. Sounds like a fair exchange.

I am far from a bandwagon rider of Bolivia and Venezuela, but I can begin to see how their leaders win support when they spin rhetoric regarding resources. Evo Morales likes to say Bolivians first. It is perhaps a failed economic strategy, but it sounds a little more inclusive.

A recent trip to the North of Perú revealed an amazing desert climate with a real water shortage issue in some areas. Last week in the Northern town of Piura temperatures were in the 90s and the local water grid failed. Not pretty. Yet a short drive away up towards the Ecuador border brought a fascinating backdrop of miles and miles of flooded rice fields. So apparently somebody has some water.

I can´t quite get a beat on whether or not there is much of a market for Peruvian rice, nor whether or not anybody is making much money on it, but everybody is doing it.

And the latest crop...What´s that? Somebody says organic bananas are in? We should all grow organic bananas? OK...lets do it.

I found this gem of an economic analysis of Peru on line. It is from 1996...

Peru's bustling economy, engendered by tough-minded market reforms, is good news for U.S. exporters wanting to expand their markets in South America. Of the $2 billion in goods and services that the United States exported to Peru in 1996, agricultural, fish and forestry products made up over $300 million.

Since the election of Peru's President Fujimori in 1990, the country's economy has spiraled upwards. Once in office, the Fujimori administration began massive reforms, eliminating nearly all controls on trade, investment and foreign exchange.

We know now that Fujimori was more than a little corrupt and hogging the cookie jar. This spiraling up economically was not being redistributed, not that it ever is.

This type of analysis also tends to leave out that more than half of all Peruvians live under the poverty level. More than 90 percent of public school students cannot read or do math at grade level. And that a small small sector of the population is formally employed, which explains why many make around 2 bucks a day. This seems to both support a rosey economic outlook in terms of low worker wages and also explain why the country is a pitfall in that the labor force is not educated.

But don´t worry, President Alan Garcia has a new failsafe plan. He relaunched a campaign recently to both spur economic growth and better health in Peru by getting Peruvians to eat more Anchovies.

Economics in Peru: It´s a family affair

I am an informal economist at best, but thanks to my reporting skills I am effectively naive, observent and curious, which comes in handy here. This economic look at Peru is therefore a reflection of my experiences here. I will start, as I often do, with a view from the ground up.

Enrique...my doorman and resident political scientist seemed rather preocupied yesterday.

He always has something on his mind. I generally put in a good half hour with him every day mostly listening to his various theories and commentaries on Peru, Latin America, and frequently an analysis of the hypocrisy that is the United States foreign policy.

Last night was a little more pedestrian for Enrique. He took a break from his usual and quite convincing dissection of why South America should unite and form a European Union type agreement so as to compete with the US.

Instead the topic was his wife´s recent return from visiting her family in Perú's eastern jungle. She was upset that he never came to visit while she and their son were gone. Enrique explained, beyond not really digging his in-laws, that he can´t really take a break. He shares doorman duties with two other Peruvians, Oscar and Pastor, they split the day between 8 hour shifts and when somebody is off, which is rare, they split 12 hour shifts.

Technically they get up to a month of vacation, but, as Enrique explained, none of them take it. He took a three day weekend last year, his only vacation in nearly 3 years of manning doors at my building. Enrique says if he were to take a break the building would bring in a substitute. His concern is that the building management will like the substitute better than him and he would be out of a job. More importantly the break would be a non paid leave, something few Peruvians can afford to do. So, he works and he works, and he laughs at the thought of taking a vacation. I didn´t get the feeling a lack of vacation sticks in Enrique´s craw and makes him bitter. In fact there was a strange pride eminating from him, that he doesn´t need a break. I guess he´s the Lou Gehrig of Peruvian doormen.

I don´t know what Enrique makes a month, my guess it is in the ballpark of 200 dollars. I have recently got a beat on what salaries here in Lima are, and what they afford people.

A cab driver who doesn´t have to rent his cab makes around 300 bucks a month. That sounds low, but it is actually comparatively around the median.

In fact, especially in rural areas, unemployment is so bad that you get the Cuban effect, lawyers and doctors driving cabs.

One must factor in that more than half of Peruvians survive on less than 2 bucks a day.

2 liters of water costs close to a dollar, a very cheap meal at a restaurant costs 2 dollars, and rent probably between 100 and 200 bucks. So factoring its salaries, Lima is not necessarily a cheap or workable place to survive.

So how do people survive?

Enrique and his family share a house with his dad and his brother and sister´s families. He says it works out but space is tight. Most of my friends here live at home, some never leave. Rent, even when it is cheap, is still between a third or a half of ones salary. You can imagine this has a bit of an affect on cultural and social development.

Families are wonderfully tight but children often lack the natural transition to being on their own and assuming more responsabilities. Most middle to upper class families have at least one maid if not two. Many of these employee are live in help, so siblings grow up never doing the dishes, laundry, etc.. That dynamic just doesn´t exist here. I recently enjoyed a conversation between a friend and his 3 young kids about why it didn´t really make sense that they get an allowance. Essentially household chores are done by the maid, and thanks to some sweet urban planning, nobody has a yard big enough to mow, so that chore is out. All we could come up with was washing the car.

Another friend of mine who is in his 40´s has a decent job working in the journalism department of a University and he earns around 5,000 dollars a year. He and his six siblings are solidly

entrenched in their childhood home.

As you can imagine I am an oddball in that I

A. live alone in an apartment

B. clean up after myself

C. can afford to have the lifestyle I do, one that is by no means lavish in US terms, but is considered so here.

It sounds like king of the mountain to some to collect a US salary in a foreign country. The problem is, thanks to natural market selection, that you often wind up pretty isolated. In my building there is essentially nobody in my age bracket.

I am no Thurston Howell III, so the class of people I often find myself around is not really comfortable or congenial. I am the only person in my building I have ever seen utilizing the stairwell, for the exception of the occasional smoker.

I also don´t have a tiny dog, nor a maid(although I do have a bathroom and workspace for one: If anyone who reads this is interested in the job, please send me a CV and a few references)

Obviously my complaints will be recieved as shallow and rightfully so. If I hadn´t been robbed with a long sharp knife gracing my neck I probably would move to a more middle class area. I am internally tortured by the image of modern saint Dr. Paul Farmer living in the bellfrey of a church so he could save money on rent and concentrate more funds in setting up a clinic in Haiti. That sounds like a righteous move to make, but I haven´t done it yet. Maybe a good compromise would be to just die my hair black, take a paycut and move in with Enrique´s family.

Examen Final: Radio Canchita

I was searching for a way to motivate my Radio journalism students to actually pay attention to their final examen. My solution ended up being booking them a stage at a local bar and making them put on a live radio show. Lets just say while they did leave certain things until the last minute as they are accostumed to doing, it was a lot more fun than sitting in a room for 3 hours and writing essays. Actually, to do them justice, they were great and they loved the challenge and in their way I think they got a lot out of the experience.
I know I sure did.
Being up on a stage in front of 60 people and running a show in a second language is no peice of cake. Thankfully I had the Peruvian Sancho Panza, Lucho Hernandez, accompanying us on piano. He saved us more than once. For those of you familiar with the Public Radio program Prairie Home Companion, this was intended to be a similar format; music, humor, fake advertisements, commentary. It is in Spanish...but even if you cannot understand it, I think you can probably enjoy it.
Here are some photos from the show and audio of the first part of the program.

Listen To Radio Canchita, Parte 1
¡Warning! the audio cuts in and out a little in certain parts.

Radio Canchita (Canchita was chosen because it is a double entendre. It is the salty corn bars put out to go with beer, it is also slang for soccer pitch and for the political field too)
So here is how it worked. On the left you can see Lucho and his piano. He is visually impaired, so he recorded all his spoken parts and brought along a walkman so he could repeat the script.


I am the gringo looking gringo with the laptop. I used my computer, which was wired through the sound system, to play various soundbites and ambient sound. I also provided some live sound effects, like coconut shells(horse hooves), to create audio.

Three different groups of students produced the 3 parts of the program. They all wrote scripts and came up with music and sound effects to accompany their monologues and dialogues. One student, a local musician, also lent us his voice and guitar.

People came to the show, some of them happened to be at the bar, some were invited, and most of them laughed at least a little.

We used some old fashioned methods to get the crowd involved

After the show I was told by a number of people that this type of thing was unique for Lima. One person mentioned that in a small sense Perú would be a different place because of us. Who knows if that is true...at least we had fun doing it and to quote one of my students, "this is great, it is the first exam where I can smoke and drink while I take the test."

Invidente Eres Tú
My class produced a series of radio shorts with the help of local musician and radio afficionado Lucho Hernandéz. Needless to say Lima is not a very easy place to live for people with disabilities. While laws exist to ensure the rights of those who are impaired, they are not enforced. Getting around town is no easy task for those without disabilities, much less those who have them. These radio spots were produced by my students to reflect a variety of angles: sensitivity, workforce issues and prevention. We also recorded an audio tour of Lima with Lucho to see how he uses sounds to get around.

Invidente eres Tu
Jonathan Hunter, Angel Ilbaguren, Paloma Vergara, JuanLuis Nugent

Invidente eres Tu 1
Invidente eres Tu 2
Invidente eres Tu 3
Invidente eres Tu 4


No me Cierres las Puertas
Antonio Tello, Fiorella Munoz, Gabriel Massei
No me Cierres 1
No me Cierres 2
No me Cierres 3

Prevencion
Daniel Goya, Sissy Delgado, Maria Jose Ampuero,
Fiorella Cruzalegui, Carolina Maceda, Sheyla Navarro
Prevencion 1
Prevencion 2
Prevencion 3
Prevencion 4


Sound Tour of Lima Peru
Luis Hernandez, Jesse Hardman, Jonathan Hunter

The piano you hear at the end is Lucho playing. He has a gig every Tuesday and Thursday at Mango's in Miraflores and Friday through Sunday at Las Canastas in La Molina.

Covering Lima...not just its candidates

My students have spent the past month covering various neighborhoods around Lima, investigating what the more pressing issues and needs are in advance of regional elections.They encountered a lot of things. You can see and hear some of them on this page. (I should note some groups ran into trouble as these neighborhoods are not the safest. Equipment was stolen right off their backs. Reporting is indeed more difficult not just for the assumed reasons down here. Some very practical issues often get in the way)


Pachacamac
Report:
Sissy Delgado y Ángel Ilbaguren
¡Escucha!










San Juan de Lurigancho
Report:
Veronica Aliaga
Carolina Maceda

¡Escucha! Listen Here











Villa El Salvador
Report:
MariaJose Ampuero y Gabriel Massei



¡Escucha! Listen Here






Puente Piedra
Report:
Paloma Vergara, Antonio Tello
¡Escucha! Listen Here

Fool me once, shame on…
Elections day

I would show the pictures I took of election day with my digital camera, but I can’t, because it has been sitting in customs here for 2 months. The local authorities apparently deemed it unnecessary to tell me not just that they have my camera, but where exactly I can look for it so I can actually pay the import tax. I am also currently a fugitive in Perú which sounds more fun than it is. Unfortunately it is not as romantic a life as lived by Butch and Sundance when they ran away to Bolivia to hide out and continue robbing banks. No, I am on the other end of the robbing here as I have been told, with very little explanation, that I cannot renew my visa. I am however welcome to stay as long as I like, I just have to pay a dollar a day penalty. Fascinating. I wonder who made up that policy over a few too many pisco sours. My guess is it is a temporary thumb to the nose until the US government actually signs the TLC, a NAFTAesque trade deal with Perú. To my knowledge no candidate ran on a platform of helping Gringos find their detained properties or actually obtain formal visas, so even if I could vote, I didn’t really have a candidate proposing to fix my particular problems.

For those that could vote today, and voting is obligatory here, there were a few options. 127 thousand candidates seeking some twelve thousand spots around Perú. Yes, I did the math too, that is about 10 candidates per race, a bit of a problem if you are seeking legitimacy with your governance.

I gave an inspired speech to my class explaining to my students that their responsibility as journalists is ten-fold during elections. I explained that without them propaganda gets injected directly into the bloodstream of unwitting voters. They applauded after my presentation, which included footage of the Gore vs. Bush Florida debacle, although I couldn´t tell if they clapped simply because my stump speech was over, or because they liked it. We did get at some interesting issues. While I lamented the low voter turnout in a country, not naming names, that insists on having its elections on non-holiday Tuesdays, my students actually said they would prefer a non obligatory voting system. They said that too many people make up their mind in line, or leave selections blank opening the door for strategically paid voting booth attendants to add some ink. Is there a system out there that inspires instead of requires? (Am I stealing this rhythm from Al Sharpton or is it truly original?) Anybody...? Bueller…?

No alcohol is sold the weekend of elections and candidates are not allowed to campaign in this period either. To fill this void an army of yellow clad ice cream vendors with matching yellow carts head out to line the entrances to voting centers. Democracy never tasted so cold and creamy. But without politics and a drink life here can get a little dull. I can´t wait for Monday when politicians start talking crazy talk and drinking again. My favorite campaign moment happened the other evening while driving through the Barranco neighborhood. Right next to a main square a female candidate for mayor had set up a stage and was putting on a show. Cars were passing during rush hour but nobody was paying any attention to what was a spectacular sight. 7 chicas in yellow jumpsuits with the candidates name and party symbol dancing in unison while what can only be described as a Peruvian Rod Stewart, complete with long puffy hair and a gut stuffed into a tight tracksuit, belted out songs extolling the candidate’s virtues. She clapped along and tried to dance her way into the hearts and minds of the locals.
One word…Awesome.
My favorite two politicians so far are the current mayor of the local district Pachacamac, who in being interviewed by two of my students explained that she wasn’t running for re-election because she didn’t really like her constituents, that they don’t pay their taxes and they don’t care, so, essentially, screw them. I don’t know if she actually expressed as much because she didn’t think my students would get their story on the air, which they did, or because it was time to be honest. My second favorite politician is running for mayor of a district, Los Olivos, that has recently watched as a mega mall was constructed across the street from its district line. You can cross a bridge from the decidedly chaotic Peruvian Los Olivos side to the decidedly sterile gringo looking megamall in the Independencia district, complete with a 20 person deep line at the ATM machine.
This candidate is running on a platform of convincing voters not to shop across the street, “buy local” he says. Something tells me the lady who just passed me with a cheeseburger and a new stereo isn’t listening. I will take the initiative to dedicate this woman’s vote to the late Milton Friedman.

Farewell sweet prince.

Over the BorderLine:
Dispatch from the North

About a week ago I was fortunate enough to spend a few days in Piura, a town in northern Perú surrounded by desert and near the Ecuadorian border. A journalism contact Luz Maria Helguero, who runs the local El Tiempo newspaper invited me to give a few talks to a group of rural reporters and local University students.

Journalism students at the
Universidad Alas Peruanas in Piura

Luz Maria runs an Open Society funded organization dedicated to training news reporters and editors from around Perú to do their jobs better. Unlike my students here in Lima, most of these reporters have little formal training before they start actual media work. While many have the desire to exude the fourth power, few have the training to understand how to do it well. Luz Maria invites these reporters to workshops around the country so they can get a little slice of how to be better, more complete reporters. While I struggle sometimes to get my students to listen to me, I often find the opposite at these rural workshops, an eagerness and hunger from participants that is heart warming. In Piura I was forced to abandon my planned powerpoint presentation (the nerve of some countries to not have proper technology), and just talk.

I have gotten way too accustomed to visual aids and have somewhat strayed from the real, effective nature of story telling. Spanish Improv Gringo Jesse style, to my surprise, went well. We developed an outline for more creative news coverage, how to find new sources, and how to write more complete stories. One of the participants offered the example of a polluted river in his town for us to use as an example. We worked around the various informative scenes we could create, the people who dump their garbage next to the river, the people who scavenge through that same garbage to make their livelihood, the people whose health is jeopardized by this garbage, etc.. So instead of a simple story that the river is indeed polluted, we came up with a whole week series of stories about the river and its various implications in this town. At first I felt what I had added to this group was kind of pedestrian and simplistic, but the response I got was indeed the opposite. They wanted not just a creative solution, but a framework that they could take back to their papers and radios. They felt that I had helped them with that. I am now hoping to follow up and visit some of them so I can see if and how they have used my suggestions.

The second part of my trip to Piura involved an adventure with some local journalists from Luz María´s paper, El Tiempo. A lazy Sunday afternoon of coverage got a whole lot more interesting when we dropped in a local town, Sullana, to investigate what turned out to be a probable case of human trafficking. After a few hours of waiting, a busload of 31 Chinese nationals arrived at the local national police office. My cohorts snapped photos as the Chinese, most looked twenty something, blurry eyed and decidedly un-showered, were ushered into a room for interrogation. The only Spanish word uttered from the group was baño despite the effort by local authorities to make them speak Spanish. The police captain tried for about a half hour to communicate by getting directly into their faces and shouting, “Ha-Blas Es-Pañol?” They stared straight back expressionless. The scene turned a bit comical as the police tried to figure out what to do and the Chinese began to get restless and started touching everything in the room, computers, file cabinets, photos, etc., I fully expected the 3-stooges to arrive to complete the moment.
Eventually 4 Peruvians, also detained, arrived looking extremely culpable, hiding their faces as my reporter companions snapped photos. One of them helped his case by eating his cellular phone sim card so as to prevent the authorities from tracing his calls. Pretty funny, I am sure that sat well in his system.
Details finally came out that the group was found in a hotel on the beach near Piura. They had no credentials and had not paid for a weeks worth of room and board. The authorities were trying to determine if the Peruvians had stolen their credentials or if this was a case of human trafficking. Apparently the group’s itinerary included going from Perú to Panama to the US eventually, presumably illegally. Something tells me that if people are willing to fly to Perú from China and from there figure out a way into the US, building a wall on the Mexican border is not going to stop them. But what do I know.