You can't drink gold, so just swallow bullets

Last week, Ollanta Humala's government has marked another black page in the history of Peru. In a country that has been marred by social conflict as a result of mismanaged extractive industries - a sad continuum across governments of the past two decades - five people have been killed during a peaceful protest march in the town of Celendín, Cajamarca province. One day later, some 20 combat-armed policemen threw Marco Arana, one of the figureheads of an indefinite strike against a huge mining project planned in the province, brutally off a bench in a park of Cajamarca city. He was forcefully grabbed by the head (a jaw was broken), pushed to the ground, hit several times in the kidneys (having passed a severe kidney operation earlier this year) and then abducted to prison [see video below, in Spanish], where he was held without charge and further beaten. His lawyer was refused due access to her client by police officers who could not present any credentials, upon which the officers maltreated Arana's lawyer as well. Apparently, Arana's only crime was to have worn a cardboard sign around his neck saying "Yes to life, No to gold" in a public space during a state of emergency.

Once again, peaceful protest has shown how powerful it can be, considering that the regrettable answer of a seemingly powerless government has been to resort to lethal violence. To be honest, it really takes my breath away to see how far governments are willing to go to safeguard investment commitments made by extractive industries in a region that has patently objected such environmentally damaging investments in its livelihoods. Even more so, when the current president was elected by promising Cajamarca's electorate to respect their decision not to support mining projects in their region, for "you cannot drink gold, so it is of utmost importance to protect natural water sources such as your beautiful lakes and prevent their contamination".

All these lofty promises have been mysteriously forgotten, as President Humala is fully committed to have the infamous Conga mining project started, a Newmont Mining Corporation investment that will affect four precious lakes - essential sources of clean water for the nearby communities - by converting them into depositories for toxic mining waste. Of course, promises have been made to treat the water and turn it into Peru's purest drinking water, but evidence of such practices are scant, not to say inexistent, in the country. Even one of Peru's star projects in terms of social and environmental responsibility turned out to be a fraud, deforming newborn lamas and contaminating nearby rivers.

What strikes me most is how the government has unequivocally sided with private industry, instead of being the gatekeeper that veils over the balance between the public's and the private sector's interests. How else to explain that national police officers are being transported by buses from the Yanacocha mine company (daughter holding of Newmont Mining)? Human rights violations as the ones described above, committed in plain daylight, in front of twenty cameras, while the region's provincial and local authorities have been drawn away from the scene to the capital, do not occur unless they are sanctioned from the highest level downwards.

I cannot even figure how these policies go down, from top government figures into the heads of the national police. It sure is no bed-time story material, judging from the police man's reaction to a Cajamarca inhabitant asking him why the police is treating citizens in such a horrible, irrespectful way: "Because you are a bunch of dogs, you son of a bitch!" And then to figure that this has been happening at a far wider scale over the past year in Syria, under the all-seeing eye of the international community, as world leaders are belt-tightening their way through domestic crises and smother their electorate with election-proof foreign policies...

For those interested, here is more information on the criminalisation of social protest and Marco Arana, and the social conflict as a result of the planned Conga Mining project. There is also a petition running on Avaaz, in case you would like to support the communities of Cajamarca in their struggle.

Win-win diplomacy

Old people have something intriguing about them. It is as if every wrinkle has a story that formed it, and every hair a life experience that coloured it grey. Most of the times, I simply admire the history they embody, while imagining what their lives must have been like and which mesmerising stories they carry with them. Sometimes, though, I seek engagement, to learn about their lives, to listen to their memories, and to share some happiness. After all, a lesson learnt now might save you the trouble of missing the mark when you get to face it later on.

That's how I ended up having lunch with UNDP Ecuador's outgoing Resident Coordinator and Country Director, whose retirement (not to be mistaken with idle leasure time) awaits him in but a few months time at his beach-front house in Panama. A lifetime of experience within the UN system made for some good conversation and useful career tips, which I'm happy to share here.

Source: Oxford Leadership Academy

As for your career, whichever direction it may take, the above image pretty much sums it up. Find something that you are passionate about, that you love doing. Make sure you do it well enough so that people are willing to pay for it. If, on top of that, this something of yours happens to be something people need, then you've got yourself a dream ticket. Things rarely come that easy, though. Therefore, plan ahead: start thinking now about the spot in which you'd like to see yourself working in say 5, 10 or 20 years; check out job vacancies that match that very profile to see which road to take to gather the required experience and skills; and watch your own back: no one will take care of your career but yourself, no matter how lofty, noble and high-spirited the organisation you work for presents itself to be.

When asked about his rule of thumb for multilateral diplomatic settings, he was very affirmative: make sure that your actions offer a win-win solution for all parties involved. You won't make nor keep any friends by getting what you want at their expense or by critising without offering alternative solutions. In a world of connections, networks of success are built through win-win diplomacy. Thus, think twice before saying or acting, strike the right balance between content and form, and always make sure to have a trump card to put on the table.

A last piece of advice from this social media savvy, TED-talks aficionado: always save some part of your earnings for whatever unexpected calamity may hit your path, or for a tranquil retirement. Not that he will rest on his laurels, of course: consultancies and teaching will fill up much of the years to come, to pay the bills and take care of his family. After all, that's how he had envisaged his 80th birthday (still some time away, though): surrounded by his family and friends.

Bathroom with a view

Three months into my stay in Ecuador, I figured it would be nice to give you an insight into life at 2,800m. I inherited the room of a friend of mine, in the apartment of an Ecuadorian guy in the historical centre of Quito. Some of the big advantages of this apartment are its character and that of the condominium (as opposed to living in a concrete building, where you know that people six floors up and down live in exactly the same apartment as you do), the cobbled streets with their colonial-era houses and a gamut of small shops, the panoramic view over Quito on my way to work, and the daily exercise from having to walk four steep blocks uphill to get home. Oh, and did I mention the view from the bathroom?

Huasipichay (housewarming) in my new apartment

My street, running down all the way into the convent of St. Francis

Panoramic view over the historical centre on my way to work

 Bathroom with a view (on the Basilica and St. John's monastery)

My first preoccupation in Quito was to get the hang of city and how to move around here. The centre is extremely well connected with the rest of town through public transport, and (cheap) taxis are abundant. Quite rapidly I stumbled onto some nice people, expats and locals, with whom I play football and basketball on a weekly basis. Ecuador being relatively small, we often go on a trip in the weekend to contrast the hectic city-life. And if not, a nice stroll in the centre is always a relaxing way to spend the afternoon.

The procession on Holy Friday is as good an occasion as any other to sell some soap bubbles

Stuck at 5,400m due to bad weather conditions during our ascent of the Cotopaxi

Crazy fun at the Green Waterfall (Cascasda Verde)

With so much activities at hand, it took me a while to sort out my room - for it had only come with a mattress. A few trips down to the furniture shops of Santa Clara, the helpful hand of our neighbour carpenter and a Sunday afternoon stroll along the local painters' exhibitions at Parque El Ejido gave my room the touch it needed to feel more at home in my new home. Latin America being Ikea-free zone, it's been quite a new experience to have had some of that stuff custom-made, like my desk and leisure pillows.

My room, with a view on the Cayambe...

... and a comfy wobbly chair

As for my new job, I have been lucky to land into a great team of Ecuadorians, an energetic Italian lady and a charismatic Cuban boss. This week off to my first field mission and trying to get a regional project started together with Bolivia -  busy times. And boy, what a view do I have from my office. That's right, envy me!

View from my office at the 10th floor

Juan Montalvo's good ruler

Ok, I promise, I will stop writing about this subject for some time now, but it was just too much of a coincidence yesterday night, when I was reading a chapter in The Ecuador Reader by Juan Montalvo, a 19th century writer from Ecuador, and one of Latin America's greatest literary minds. In his essay On the Spirit of Association, he writes the following two passages which struck me in the light of recent events:

The good ruler has a clear conscience and does not lift his head in fear when he hears that a certain number of people have gathered together.

The government that sees only danger in whatever occurs in the Republic is a Polyphemus, having only one eye: a cruel and villainous giant, he seizes his guests and devours them; a formidable son of the earth, he makes all tremble. But no one lets pass the opportunity to throw a stone at him and, when the moment comes, to deprive him of his sight.

Juan Montalvo, detractor and wise insulter (source)

Ecuadorian democracy in action

As promised, Correa v El Universo was to be continued. In fact, already the week after the Supreme Court's ruling in the case, president Correa invited the whole crême de la crême of the international diplomatic community present in Quito, to assist his pardoning of the condemned directors and editorialist, as well as the authors of the book El gran hermano. The Ecuadorians, the actual target audience in this case of their democratic system and press freedom, were invited to watch the screening of Correa's speech outside the presidential palace.



Mostly, it was a self-congratulatory speech, highlighting the righteousness of his own position and pointing out the lack of journalistic ethos of the international media, who hadn't bothered asking him for his version of the facts when reporting on the Court's ruling. At the very end of his speech, Correa took an interesting turn countering the accusations of disrespecting press freedom and freedom of expression. "Our answer," he says, "are the kids going to Millennium schools, disabled people accessing well-functioning health care facilities, and first class highways connecting our cities." In short, socio-economic well-being trumps democratic principles, an argument not unfamiliar with some other rulers across the globe. (Did I hear you say Paul Kagame or Lee Kuan Yew?)

In the weeks following this mediatic show, huge billboards in support of the president and his policies appeared across those very same highways (paid for with public money, needless to say). Conveniently, this coincided with the start of a huge march of indigenous peoples in defense of water, protesting against the reckless public policy to promote huge mining investments across the Andes. Even before the protesters made it to Quito, Correa didn't leave an opportunity go by without disqualifying the protesters' motives and arguments, arguing that the march has blatantly failed.

As the protesters were about to march into the capital, the president tried to cut their roads of access and means of transport. In the meantime, he started rallying his own supporters with the same buses he forbid the indigenous people to use to enter Quito. From all over the country thousands of pro-Correa protesters marched to his palace to express their support for his government. Ironically, if these people already knew why they were in Quito (except for the free transport, food and drinks, that is), most answered quite vehemently that they were here "to protect our democracy".

Yes, the very same democracy that their star had put to the second stage just a few weeks earlier. In defense of a democracy that delegitimises and impedes the exercise of the constitutional rights of its citizens to gather, use public roads and present individual or collective protests and proposal to the competent authorities. A democratic system in which a governor sends a letter to the president with the names of public servants who did not attend the pro-Correa protests, recommending he shows them the door. Shouldn't this democracy rather open the debate on how to finance social progress (c.q. whether or not mining is the most adequate economic policy to generate sustainable economic growth) in the face of the constitutional rights granted to nature?