Genocide in Peru. Oil companies are destroying the native population. They are being murdered by poisoned contaminated waters and lands.
They are helpless as the corporate juggernaut annihilates them with impunity.

The Massacre of Bagua and Alan Garcia

 

 

 

 

 

 
By the end of June, Survival International denounced the Garcia administration and signed an agreement with Perenco, an Anglo-French corporation to drill for oil in the Amazon assuring an investment of over $2 billion dollars in territories where Indigenous people live away from contact with other cultures.Perenco admits that “contamination of soil, contamination of water and the flight of game and birds are possible consequences of its work”.

After all the injustice, lies, corruption, Peruvian people continue their fight for justice and against the abusive economic policies of the Garcia administration.

As strikes, rallies, and social uprisings are shaking up Peru right now, a three-day long nationwide protest will be held by union leaders, teachers, students, miners and activists demanding for changes and the repeal of those failed policies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE NEW YORK CITY AIRSPACE

My condolences to the families of the victims of the Hudson Crash. As a licensed pilot I believe ALL new aircraft should be equipped with collision avoidance equipment. Also it should be mandated that any aircraft entering the New York City air traffic area be equipped with such because of the high level of traffic. The Hudson River VFR corridor and the East River should be monitored during peak hours.

This was my speech for the acceptance of my Doctor of Music Degree back in 1999

TRINITY COLLEGE - ‘THE ART OF COURAGE’

From his/her very beginnings art was humankind’s bridge to communicate and propose those things that were still abstract. Art was our first language even before words. The artists role in society is sometimes like that of a scribe. . . to chronicle, and sometimes similar to a legislator. . . to propose, other times he or she is allowed to be a visionary or a prophet and spin grandiose ideas. All these things are expected of a great artist. (A side note: Talking about the beginning of time… This is something that has been driving me mad for years … If Adam was such a magnificent creature and Eve was the epitome of the beautiful woman… Where did all the ugly people come from?)

Because I was born and raised in the 50s and 60s, a time of great social dissonance and political struggle, the road to my objectives, the accessible platform for me to express my views to communicate with my peers, the group therapy session where we could all validate each other and feel good about ourselves was a musical one.

Through the years I have written and performed songs about issues that concern not only Latinos but society at large. Most of the time our song’s villain meets a well deserved end as in Pedro Navaja (our version of Mack The Knife); or Ramon, the Drug Dealer from Atrapado. In the end the moral of these stories speaks against the violence and the abysmal emptiness of the drug world. I have sung about the Colgaditos, the children of the street. I have recorded songs like El Gran Varón (The Great Man) about AIDS and gay issues. This song, surprisingly, was a tremendous hit.. La Era Nuclear was about nuclear proliferation. Plantación Adentro was about farm workers who are often paid with a beating or death.

In some cases we have had life imitating art when Ruben Blades and I spoke of a Nicaragua without Somoza. One of the most important songs I’ve ever recorded, “El General” was a song about Gen. Agusto Pinochet. It’s important to me not because it was a great success but because it got me thrown out of RCA records and put me on the blacklist that I am on today. Corporate Censorship suffered by the Latino Community will be one of my preeminent causes in the future. McCarthyism is alive and well in the Latino Communications Industries, artists first amendment rights are being repressed as are their rights to practice their trade and earn a living. Perhaps it was this very censorship that catapulted me “off the canvas” so to speak, and take on issues in a non musical way. My music is no longer my only means of expression. Sometimes we have do more than just write a song…

I have represented groups before Congressional and City Council hearings and have had the honor of leading various civic, cultural and political groups and even taken a stab at elected office. With CARE - The international Aid Organization, I helped establish community banks within the rural indigenous communities of Latin America where the are no lending institutions that would even consider their needs. Most recently I have been in the news as a possible candidate for the New York Senate Seat coveted by Hillary Clinton and Rudy Giuliani. I am being asked to throw my hat in the ring by various community leaders. I also participated as a member of the delegation to the Vatican seeking Pope John Paul II’s endorsement for a global debt relief initiative which was very successful by the way. Two weeks later President Clinton promised to forgive the US part of that debt. About a week ago I visited Vieques Island to participate in and endorse the civil disobedience that has prevented the US Navy to continue bombing that island municipality. Vieques is not a sand dune with two little palm trees on it. As part of the migratory route between the Antilles and the American continents it holds many secrets that are being destroyed and kept from all humanity. There is absolutely no justification to continue using Vieques as a target.

 

02-Agosto-2009 | Mayra Montero
Antes que llegue el lunes
Sociedad

La vulnerabilidad llega no sólo por culpa de esos elementos extraños que se cuelan por cualquier rincón: a través de un monte, por un hueco convenientemente abierto en una verja, o escondidos en la parte trasera de un vehículo de servicio. Ha habido delitos, dentro de urbanizaciones cerradas, atribuidos a los hijos descarriados de algún vecino. Los hijos, y los amigos de esos hijos, que tienen también la entrada garantizada.

A través del boca a boca nos llegan las noticias de casas desvalijadas, forzadas en mitad de la noche o a plena luz del día. Los guardias aseguran no haber visto nada, ni haber dejado pasar a nadie sospechoso. Lo curioso es que generalmente dicen la verdad: los asaltantes se escurren al menor descuido, y, una vez dentro, pueden esperar hasta la madrugada sintiéndose a sus anchas. No pasa ninguna patrulla buscando tipos sospechosos; no hay una viejita insomne vigilando detrás de una ventana, y casi nadie se sobresalta ante un portazo intempestivo.

La mayor parte de los ciudadanos que viven dentro de las urbanizaciones cerradas se relajan, duermen a pierna suelta y no les pasa por la mente que un cristal se rompe apenas sin crujir. No se sienten en la necesidad de pasar el seguro en la puerta de su habitación, ni se inquietan por los ladridos de los perros, pues para eso pagan, para que la guardia privada se asegure de que no haya intrusos.

El problema es que todo eso lo saben los atracadores.

En urbanizaciones que no están cerradas, en plena ciudad, la gente se cuida lo mejor que puede, con alarmas, con púas o con la simple intuición. Pero el control de acceso da una falsa sensación de seguridad. Y digo falsa, porque es verdad que se evitan muchas visitas inoportunas, de pillos o de simples itinerantes, pero es innegable que siguen a merced de los ladrones. Una urbanización suele ser muy grande, con patios y senderos solitarios. El que decida entrar, lo hará tarde o temprano.
Y, como si fuera poco, hay pequeños delitos, molestas infracciones que suelen cometerse impunemente en las urbanizaciones cerradas. Sé de personas que se lamentan de que las calles del barrio burbuja donde viven a menudo se utilizan como pistas para carreras de motoras, four tracks y hasta carritos de golf. Vehículos conducidos por niños y por adolescentes.

En ese ambiente “familiar”, ¿quién le dice al vecino que le prohiba al hijo corretear de un lado para otro? Bronca garantizada. Y como no se trata de una vía pública normal, con las restricciones que aplican, pues hay que resignarse.

Es posible que haya urbanizaciones con control de acceso que sean balsas de aceite, pacíficos remansos donde no ocurre nada. Pienso que casi todas deben tener su historia. Algunos dirán que peor les iría si ni siquiera tuvieran en la entrada esa garita con el guardia soñoliento que pregunta santo y seña, y el otro guardia que es el que da las rondas. Quizá tengan razón, pero hay una lección con todo lo que está pasando: la calle nos alcanza, no importa donde nos metamos.

Los problemas de ingobernabilidad, de falta de autoridad, de decadencia social, se cuelan por los agujeros como si fueran un humo. No va a mejorar la situación en las urbanizaciones cerradas si no mejora en el resto del País. No pueden pretender los vecinos de un barrio, por muy cerrado que esté, vivir más seguros, más relajados y más al margen de la violencia que los vecinos del resto de la ciudad. Todos nos merecemos dormir a pierna suelta con la ventana abierta. Pero la sociedad que hemos forjado va por otro lado.

Esto, sin olvidar que algún malo de la película, de esos que ordenan masacres como si ordenaran pizzas, ha llegado a instalarse, por vanidad, por estrategia incluso, en urbanizaciones de copete, cerradas y custodiadas, para que ni la policía lo incordie. Y lo saben los demás vecinos, pero de eso no se habla. Ni de eso, ni de muchas otras cosas que cuesta tanto aceptar.