WORLD FOOD DAY, 16 OCTOBER: BOLIVIAN DEBATES

One could expect that, on the occasion of World Food Day, the Bolivian press would bring up the most burning issues in the area of food and agriculture for Bolivia. So let’s take a look at the press coverage.

While the reports took up declarations from the government and FAO, there was unusual silence about statements from civil society organisations, which probably indicates that there were no significant statements made from that side.

On the occasion of World Food Day, the Bolivian government ratified the “Law of Mother Earth and Integral Development for the Good Life” (Ley de la Madre Tierra y Desarrollo Integral para Vivir Bien). Two central objectives of this law are to counteract the concentration of land in the hands of few, and to ban genetically modified crops from Bolivia (Durán, 17 October 2012).

As Durán (17 October 2012) comments, these objectives stand in contrast with current government policies. National food security is ensured in close cooperation with private agricultural businesses, and 70 % of Bolivian soy production stems from genetically modified seeds (ibid.). Also, within the “Agrarian, Productive and Communitarian Revolution” proclaimed by the government in mid 2011, a central project is the construction of fertilizer plants (ibid.).

While Durán suggests that the objectives of the new agricultural law are simply out of place since private property and genetically modified seeds are necessary to establish food security, an observer more sympathetic to the ideas presented by the government at least has to say: Implementing the new law will require a full turnaround in government policies.

The government itself, however, seems to be happy on the occasion of World Food Day. As the vice-minister of Rural Development states, the production of food has increased during 2012, thus ensuring “food security with sovereignty” (El Diario, 17 October 2012). For him, this is due to the national projects supporting particularly small-scale farmers (ibid.). At the same time, the minister mentions that the most important agricultural products have been sugar cane and soya – which are produced in large-scale cultivations by agribusinesses (Quispe, 16 October 2012).

This contradiction brings out an actual lack of support for small-scale farmers, a conclusion that is confirmed by statements of the La Paz office of the Food and Agricultural Organisation FAO on the occasion of World Food Day. FAO will be supporting small-scale producers in the production and marketing of ecological products, in order to insert these farmers better in the market (ABI, 15 October 2012). The organisation also stated the necessity to create a programme of family subsidies in order to ensure the right to food (Quispe, 16 October 2012). The percentage of Bolivians suffering from hunger has lowered slightly, but still stands at 24 % of the population (ibid.). The population most affected by food insecurity are small-scale farmers (ibid.). Thus, in line with its ideology and the new agricultural law, the government will have to think seriously about support for small-scale farmers.

It seems, however, that the government is busy with a different topic. On World Food Day, a Chinese online newspaper reminded us that 2013 will be the international year of Quinua (people daily, 17 October 2012). During this year, Bolivian president Evo Morales and FAO will be promoting the nutritional advantages of the Andean grain and its potential to contribute to world food security (ibid.).

Worldwide, Bolivia is the main exporter of Quinua (ibid.), and the grain is produced in the harsh highlands by small-scale farmers. So this will be an issue to watch. Because while Quinua will be promoted as the miracle grain to feed the world, small farmers in the Bolivian highlands might give away their source of subsistence for export, be replaced by agribusinesses – or find a sustainable way to use their miracle grain. But this will only happen if they are accompanied by smart and consistent government policies.

REFERENCES

Durán, G. P. (17 October 2012). Contradictórias políticas de gobierno. Jornada. Retrieved from http://www.jornadanet.com/Opinion/n.php?a=3263

El Diario (17 October 2012). Bolivia garantizó la seguridad alimentaria durante este año. Retrieved from: http://www.fmbolivia.com.bo/noticia99995-bolivia-garantizo-la-seguridad-alimentaria-durante-este-ano.html

Quispe, A. (16 October 2012). FAO plantea subsidio para garantizar la alimentación. La Razón. Retrieved from: http://www.la-razon.com/economia/FAO-plantea-subsidio-garantizar-alimentacion_0_1706829345.html

ABI (15 October 2012). FAO apoya a más de 8.000 productores ecológicos para reducir el hambre y la pobreza. Retrieved from: http://www.fmbolivia.com.bo/noticia99859-fao-apoya-a-mas-de-8000-productores-ecologicos-para-reducir-el-hambre-y-la-pobreza.html

People Daily (17 October 2012). Especial: Bolivia y FAO promoverán bondades de Quinua desde la ONU. Retrieved from: http://spanish.peopledaily.com.cn/31617/7979815.html

CENSUS 2012: ACCOUNTING FOR IDENTITY

Hardly on the same bench: Indigenous and non-indigenous Bolivians

In November 2012, the next census of the Bolivian population will take place. But what could be seen as a simple statistical task has become highly politicized.

The issue the whole country has been debating is question number 29, asking about the interviewee’s ethnic identity (Salazar, August 2012). The original wording of question 29, as presented by the Instituto Nacional de Estadística in August 2012, was: “Are you part of an indigenous or afro-Bolivian nation or people?” (¿Pertenece a alguna nación o pueblo indígena originario campesino o afroboliviano?) The possible answers were to declare oneself part of one of the 36 officially recognized peoples listed, or to declare oneself “none” (“ninguno”) (Salazar, August 2012).

The wording “ninguno” turned out to be highly polemic, because who would want to be “none”, or in the more literal translation “no one”?

In the last census, in 2001, the question of ethnicity was incorporated for the first time, with the same wording as  proposed for this year (Mesa, August 2012). Back then, 38 % of the Bolivian population did not identify as part of an indigenous people and thus declared themselves “ninguno” (ibid.). The result served to mark Bolivia officially as a country with an indigenous majority, a majority which had, however, been historically discriminated against (ibid.). This realisation was perfect support for the indigenous movement in Bolivia, which should take over the political power with the victory of Evo Morales and his Movimiento Al Socialismo in the 2005 presidential elections.

Since then, the political discourse in Bolivia has changed drastically. The Republic of Bolivia has become the Plurinational State of Bolivia, and the new constitution, approved in 2009, acknowledges 36 “indigenous nations” within Bolivia (ibid.). But instead of closing the gap of discriminations and inequalities between the indigenous and the non-indigenous population, it seems that the politics of the Morales government have led to an increased fragmentation of Bolivian society. Racism remains an important problem, and the population feels a form of “reversed racism”: More than half of the non-indigenous population claim to have been discriminated against by members of the indigenous population (Los Tiempos, 6 August 2012). And although social mobility has not improved greatly in Bolivia, there have been conflicts between established urban elites and “new rich” members of the indigenous population (PNUD, 2011).

It is because of this polarization of Bolivian society why, in this year’s census, the non-indigenous population does not want to be “no one”, does not want to be made invisible in favour of the politically convenient indigenous identity of Bolivia (Mesa, August 2012).

The government has recognized the conflictive nature of question 29 and hurried to find alternative wordings. After all, the government wants the census to be representative and not to be used as a platform for political declarations, such as a higher than actual number of “no ones” in protest against this wording (Salazar, August 2012). And that the Bolivian population is capable of such forms of protest has shown in the last rounds of local elections, where a majority of votes was not valid (ibid.).

But what would the alternative to “no one” be? It has been suggested to call the non-indigenous population “mestizos”, a term that has created even greater difficulties (Los Tiempos, 6 August 2012). First of all, the term “mestizo” has been considered racist, since it was introduced by the Spaniards in order to distinguish those who were born to a white father / mother and an indigenous mother / father (ibid.). And then, it is hard to determine who in Bolivia would not be genetically “mestizo” (Salazar, August 2012). The government itself seems to have a conflict over this definition. While vice-president Garcia Linera declared that “all peoples, all cultures are biologically mestizos” (ibid., par. 2), the Minister of Decolonization states that there is no mestizo culture, compared to the “pure” Aymara culture (ibid., par. 12).

Therefore, the option “mestizo” has been abandoned as well, since it did not prove to be less polemic. The current wording of question 29 is: Being Bolivian, are you part of an indigenous or afro-Bolivian nation or people? The answers are: “Yes”, indicating one of the 36 indigenous nationalities listed, “No”, or “No, I am not Bolivian” (ibid.). This wording seems to have calmed the situation, since it starts from the premise that everybody is, firstly, Bolivian, and then belongs or does not belong to an indigenous nation (Mesa, August 2012).

As small as this change seems, it indicates that Bolivian identities need to be conceptualised carefully, with the deeply rooted historical fragmentations in mind, and that there is an urgent need for a common sense of “Bolivianness”.

REFERENCES

Los Tiempos (6 August 2012). La mayoría se reconoce y siente mestizo. Special Edition on the Bolivian National Holiday.

Mesa, C. (August 2012). ¿Naciones? Commentary by Carlos D. Mesa Gisbert. Retrieved from http://carlosdmesa.com/2012/08/28/naciones/#more-1709

PNUD – Programa de las Naciones Unidas para el Desarrollo. (2011). Los cambios detrás del cambio. Desigualdades y movilidad social en Bolivia. (The changes behind the "process of change". Inequality and social mobility in Bolivia.).  La Paz: PNUD.

Salazar, J. C. (August 2012). Sin Dios ni Patria. Nueva Cronica y Buen Gobierno, 2da. quincena de agosto 2012, p. 5

TRYING TO GRASP THE CANCHA

In the city of Cochabamba, and indeed in most of Bolivia, supermarkets are still only scarcely present. The mass of consumer goods – from fresh vegetables and meat to mobile phones – is sold in the markets. The biggest market in Cochabamba is the Cancha, spreading out south of the city center. The Cancha is a conglomerate of various markets and comprises a vast area that nobody really controls. It might take up an extension of ten times ten blocks, as here in Latin America we also count distances in blocks. In the Cancha, the vendors offer their goods, on sheets on the ground or in more elaborate stands with metal constructions for product display.

For my work, the markets in Cochabamba are highly interesting since these are the places where food is bought and sold. So I am trying to get to understand how markets and particularly the Cancha work, but this is not an easy task.

Vendor ("Caserita") at the Cancha

Being a “gringa”, a person that is obviously foreign, markets are difficult places for me. First of all, they are huge agglomerates of people in which I am a perfect target for thieves. I have, however, overcome this fear by now, also because I usually walk with my boyfriend. Still, it feels awkward to go to the market because I somehow cannot interact normally with the vendors there.

I have lived in Bolivia for quite some time, and most of it in Cochabamba, and I am perfectly capable of speaking the local version of Spanish. I am able to function like a local person in most everyday situations, but I still feel out of place at the market. It is my boyfriend who converses with the vendors, mostly women, and buys the food we need. It is him who makes them sell us good quality at a fair price, which basically means that they weigh the goods correctly and give you a little bit extra. Bargaining is not part of the process, they tell you the price and that is it, but there is a kind of ritual that you have to go through in order to get the products you want. I somehow do not seem to understand this process, and I believe what makes it more difficult for me to “function” in this market situation is that the vendors recognize me as a foreigner that cannot judge local products.

Yes, I believe that shopping at the market challenges the consumer to actually know something about the products they buy because they have to be able to judge the quality and the price. Thus, going to the market and particularly the Cancha is a veritable challenge for me. Given, however, my interest in these markets, I tried these days to talk to a few vendors, and it did really not go well. First of all, they are busy, which can however be overcome with some patience. But then, they somehow see me as an intruder, as someone who will anyway never be able to understand. I believe that with time and patience I will be able to converse more with the vendors working at the Cancha and other markets, in this very particular world of theirs.

For now, I will take a route to get some more contacts that is always possible here in Bolivia: There is a tradition of organization, and so every professional, from the worker to the university professor, is part of a professional association. The other day, when I was travelling, I saw that the man selling coffee in the plaza was part of the “Association of Milk Coffee Vendors”. So, the vendors at the Cancha and other markets are for sure part of professional associations, and through them I hope to get better access to the vendors. Indeed, one of the most well-known organisations in Cochabamba was founded by women selling at the Cancha, and it is called “Las Hijas del Pueblo” – “The Daughters of the People”. A name that certainly expresses what a vital social function these women are fulfilling.

In 1965, Bolivian writer Armando Montenegro wrote a text about the  typical “Hija del Pueblo” that seems still so true nowadays – here some excerpts:

“She is the backbone of the home economy of the region. Her reason for living are the practicalities of commerce and the industry of the home. She floods the markets, the streets, the sports fields, the trains, the buses, to offer to the people of Cochabamba, chicha, api, refreshments, chicharrón [...]. She seems to be a machine [...] She has no place to live, no home or does not remember it, because she sleeps, eats and makes her social life in her “puesto”, her market stall. [...] She is the dominant figure in the marriage, because she has economic independence based on her own effort. Her husband does not have much authority over her. He is only considered decoration. The purple hematoma surrounding the eye is the sign of her marriage, much more important than the wedding ring or the rounded belly. [...] The Daughter of the People is a solid force because she is the true exponent of constancy, instinctive wisdom and work.”
(Montenegro, 1965, in Calderon & Rivera, 1984; my translation).

How much is there, in this description and in the realities I observe at the Cancha, that is worth uncovering and unriddling...so I keep going!

SOURCE:
Calderon, F. & Rivera, A. (1984). La Cancha. Cochabamba: CERES

GOING EAST: NOTES ON BOLIVIAN AGRICULTURAL STRUCTURES

Travelling eastwards from the city of Cochabamba, we observe gradual changes in landscape: Passing the harsh mountainous region surrounding the city, we descend into the tropical forests of the Chapare, still part of the department of Cochabamba, and then continue to the tropical lowlands of the department of Santa Cruz.

These changes tell a story beyond geographical zones: They also tell the story of agricultural structures in Bolivia.

Agriculture in the mountains of Cochabamba

The Chapare, source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/doloresreina/5446352716/sizes/m/in/photostream/

Agriculture in Santa Cruz

As the first picture shows, the mountainous region of Cochabamba is characterised by traditional small-scale agriculture. As we advance towards the Chapare, the vegetation changes drastically into a dense tropical forest. This is an area of small- and medium-scale agriculture that advances bit by bit into the forest. Further East, the landscape changes again. As we cross to the region of Santa Cruz, we find the same hot and humid climate, but large areas of forest have been cut down to make space for agricultural production. Santa Cruz is the region of large-scale agriculture, mainly destined towards exportation.

These regional differences exemplify the three distinctive forms of agricultural production in Bolivia: Small landholdings in areas of traditional agriculture, cultivations introduced in scarcely populated areas such as the tropical forests of the Chapare through planned migration (“colonisation / colonización”), and large-scale capitalist agricultural production in the Eastern lowlands (Ballivián, 2009).

These agricultural structures were decisively shaped by the Agricultural Reform in 1952 (Ballivián, 2009). At this time, the “most profound social revolution that Bolivia has seen” (ibid: 53) took place, orienting the productive sector towards a state-led capitalism (ibid.). Mines were nationalised and an agricultural reform was introduced in order to break with the feudal structures in the agricultural sector (ibid.). The agricultural reform meant basically that the campesinos who formerly produced for their landlord were to become owners of their land (ibid.).

This reform was implemented most successfully in the Western part of the country, where the campesino movement pushing for reforms was strongest (ibid.). Up to today, small landholdings dominate in the highlands and valleys (ibid.). In the Eastern lowlands, however, something else happened: The huge landholdings in this area became the property of the landlords, denominated as “agricultural companies”, in exchange for the promise to modernise these landholdings rapidly (ibid.). For Balliviàn (2009), this contradiction was driven by the state´s interest in fostering economic development, which was an important element of the agricultural reform that should “liberate productive forces” (Canelas, in Ballivian 2009).

The agricultural reform was complemented by government support for migration from the highlands to less populated areas in the East (ibid.). This was thought to contribute to an expansion of the agricultural frontier and also to a protection of Bolivian territory by populating the Eastern borderland (ibid.). The Chapare is one of these areas of “colonisation” attracting migrants from the rural highlands. This tendency of migration from the highlands is indeed going on until the present day.

Despite favourable climatic conditions, the dense native vegetation of the Chapare is not easily converted into agricultural land (ibid.). Since the rural migrants usually lack the technological means needed to advance large-scale deforestation, they stick to the cultivation of smaller areas, abandoning them as soil fertility decreases to deforest a new patch of land (ibid.). One solution to decrease the effort needed for agricultural production is to plant perennial crops such as cocoa or palm trees – or coca plantations, which is currently the main commercial cultivation in the Chapare (ibid.). Apart from being a perennial plantation, the coca leaf reaches much higher prices than other products, an effect that is amplified tremendously by the importance of the coca leaf as a raw material for cocaine production.

Just a bit more eastwards, the region of Santa Cruz is characterised by the large-scale production of rice, cotton, sugar cane and other products mainly destined for exportation (ibid.). Industrial agricultural production does not contribute significantly to satisfying internal food demand: The majority of agricultural production for the internal market (about 70 %) is provided by small-scale farming (ibid.).

This structure leads to serious concerns about Bolivian food sovereignty, particularly given gradual changes in traditional agricultural areas: Traditional systems of communal ownership are being abandoned in favour of individual land ownership, leading to ruptures with an established system of long-term planning of land use and crop rotation in the community (ibid.). New, more intensive forms of agricultural production are however limited by the harsh environmental conditions in the areas of traditional agriculture, leading to a deterioration of agricultural land and increased migration to urban areas or zones of colonisation (ibid., CEDLA 2009). Combined with gradual changes in consumption habits, for instance preferences for industrially produced (imported) food (CEDLA 2009), the development of the Bolivian food system does not seem promising for generating food sovereignty.

SOURCES:

Ballivian, D. P. (2009). Estructura agraria boliviana (Bolivian agricultural structure). Plural editores: La Paz

CEDLA (2009). Soberanía y seguridad alimentaria en Bolivia. Políticas y estado de la situación. (Food sovereignty and security in Bolivia. Politics and actual situation.) CEDLA: La Paz

THE MAS AND THE MAYAS

Bolivia is undergoing a “process of change”, initiated by the current government formed by the Movimiento Al Socialismo (Movement Towards Socialism) and its leading figure Evo Morales. Although the government has been in power since 2005, no profound change can be noticed: Bolivian society is as divided as ever between indigenous and non-indigenous populations, and the political-economic situation remains volatile (see for instance Pablo Stefanoni’s recent analysis of the “process of change”, Stefanoni 2012).

There is, however, change at the symbolic level: The country has been renamed, Bolivia is now the “Plurinational State of Bolivia”, expressing the country’s ethnic diversity. The Bolivian flag is now accompanied by the Wiphala, the colourful flag representing the indigenous peoples of the Andes. And the president enjoys the attention he receives in the international arena for his anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist speeches - while considerable parts of his own country are being destroyed by mining industries (Gudynas, 5 March 2012).

Recently, the MAS has discovered another powerful symbolism: The end date of the Mayan calendar in 2012 and the fears and hopes surrounding the “end of the world” in 2012 (Salazar,2012). For the Bolivian government, the magic date of the 21^st of December 2012 will bring about the Cambio / change so desired by them.

When the Organisation of American States (OAS / OEA) met in Cochabamba in the last days of May 2012, the opening speeches of the Bolivian hosts made abundant references to the “Mayan prophecies” (Salazar, 2012): For them, the year 2012 marks the beginning of a “time of balance”, a new time, a new system that would, for instance, make a restructuring of the OAS / OEA necessary.

Along similar lines, Chancellor of State David Choquehuanca declared a few days ago that the 21^st of December 2012 would mark “the end of capitalism, the end of Coca Cola, and the beginning of the Mocochinchi” (Gonzales Yaksic, July 2012). For the uninitiated amongst you, Mocochinchi is a traditional drink in Bolivia, prepared by boiling dried peaches. It seems to be the wish of the government that this traditional refreshment should replace the “Black Waters of Imperialism”, Coca Cola.

Mocochini, offered in Cochabamba, source http://www.flickr.com/photos/imenezes/

But does the alliance between the Bolivian government and the Mayan prophecies take a more concrete shape? What is, for instance, the contribution of the Bolivian government to restructuring the OEA? At the meeting this year, the government representatives were focused on gaining support for their demand against Chile – a demand to receive back the Bolivian access to the sea that was lost  to Chile in the Pacific War more than 100 years ago (Salazar, 2012).

And will the government really make Coca Cola leave the country? At their most courageous, they will apply the same technique as with the mines, oil fields and utility companies that have been “nationalised”: Local MAS supporters or soldiers will occupy the production sites until a new treaty is set up, one under which Coca Cola still owns the plants but makes a few concessions to the Bolivian government. At least this is the experience from previous “victories against imperialism” through “nationalisations” (Gonzales Yaksic, July 2012).

In fact, we don´t know if Bolivians will really only drink Mocochinchi from 2013 on. But what we do know is that the Bolivian government entertains a range of symbolisms – more often ridiculous than powerful – to fuel its “process of change”, while at the same time being rather helpless in the real implementation of changes for Bolivia.

SOURCES

Gonzales Yaksic, M. (July 2012). Mocochinchi y Coca Cola. Los Tiempos, 15 July 2012. Retrieved from http://www.lostiempos.com/diario/opiniones/columnistas/20120715/mocochinchi-y-coca-cola_178520_377029.html

Salazar, J. C. (2012). El mar, la OEA y las profecías Mayas. Nueva Crónica y Buen Gobierno. PRISMA / PLURAL editores, No. 106, primera quincena de Junio 2012.

Stefanoni, P. (2012). ¿Y quién no querría “vivir bien”? Encrucijadas del proceso de cambio boliviano. Cuadernos de pensamiento crítico Latinoamericano, Numero 48, Junio 2012

Gudynas, E. (5 March 2012). La izquierda marrón (The Brown Left). La línea de fuego. Retrieved from http://lalineadefuego.info/2012/03/05/la-izquierda-marron-por-eduardo-gudynas/

WELCOME TO BOLIVIA

It is a chilly winter evening in the first days of June when I finally arrive at the airport of Cochabamba. The place is busy, bustling with delegates to the meeting of the Organisation of American States (OAS / OEA) that has just come to its end here in Cochabamba.

I am, however, too exhausted to pay attention to all this. I have been on the road for two days and had to do some extra exercise at my point of entry to Bolivia, El Alto airport just outside (or rather: just above) La Paz, at an altitude of 4,000 m. Although I was going to continue to Cochabamba in the very same airplane, I was asked to leave the plane with all my luggage, run across the airfield, find the officer that would put the migration stamp in my passport, fill in a customs declaration, and sprint to the other end of the airport building in order to be able to enter the airfield and the very same airplane again. I did all this in about 20 minutes and arrived just in time for the take-off to Cochabamba. Welcome to Bolivia! In front of the majestic Illimani, a Samsung ad greets me.

Arriving in La Paz

In Cochabamba, my boyfriend and his niece are waiting for me. What a welcome, after a year!

As we leave the airport, the 15-year old niece goes on about the “folkloric nonsense” organised as the farewell ceremony for the OEA delegates. “A shame for Bolivia”, she thinks. With her white complexion, they call her “gringa” in the family. Welcome to Bolivia, a country that is not one, but many.

After the obligatory welcome tea, hugs and kisses with the family, my boyfriend and me take a taxi back to our house. He has found a house in a “safe place”, and that means: In a place with security guards. Our house is in a closed urbanisation that can only be entered passing a safety checkpoint. The taxi driver has to leave his ID card before he drives us up to our house, a lovely house with a garden for our dog, but also with a high fence with sharp ends.

Needless to say, I hate closed urbanisations. But my boyfriend says that only here we can be safe – safe from people who don’t have as much as we do, who live in the Southern part of the city or in the nearby villages and come here at night to steal our things.

Welcome to Bolivia, the place where everybody is afraid of everyone. The richest are so afraid that they live up the hill, with double the amount of safety guards and electric fences. We live in an upper-middle class ghetto in the city. Then there are those who can afford a house and have money but do not identify with the established middle class. They organise their own protection, usually by warning thieves that they will be lynched if they enter the area. And then there are the ones who don’t have a lot and live in the Southern part of the city, some of them also up the hill, but without any protection. These people might get killed in a fight over a few Bolivianos, but there is nobody to protect them. So you see: Everybody is afraid, because there is always somebody who has less.

As the whole country, Cochabamba is a highly segregated city. I do not doubt that I need to be concerned about my safety here. But every day, in so many details, it strikes me: When will these people see that they are part of the same Bolivia?

MCDONALDISATION?

As I arrive exhausted in Buenos Aires after a 14 hour transatlantic flight, I check out my luggage to wait for the next leg of my journey: The flight to Bolivia. Desire for breakfast overcomes me, and I walk by the McDonalds to get some fruit tea. Nicely calculated, two big suitcases and a cup of hot tea to go.

Balancing the hot teacup in my hand, I rest under a huge ad in the arrivals hall. “A thousand destinations, one taste”, it promises, featuring the universal McDonalds burger. But this, I realise, will not expect me in Bolivia. McDonalds has left Bolivia.

The fast food chain lasted for five years in the country, before it closed down all its restaurants in Bolivia in mid 2003 (DeSuremain, 2009). A recent documentary titled “Por que quebró McDonalds en Bolivia?” (Why did McDonalds Bolivia go bankrupt?) has given new popularity to the apparent failure of McDonalds in Bolivia. But while the documentary and various web sources praise the Bolivian rejection of fast food and of McDonalds as a symbol of Western capitalism, it is actually not at all clear why McDonalds left the country (Andean Information Network, 2012).

Do Bolivians reject fast food? According to my experience, not at all. Wherever you go in an urban area, at any time of the day, you will find street vendors selling traditional and Western fast food, and you will find restaurants offering food to go. From the traditional salteña (pastries filled with something like a meat stew) or fried intestines to hot dogs and fried chicken – Bolivians love their fast food. I even discovered what I call a “Bolivian hamburger”: “Trancapechos” (translated something like “stomach stuffers”), a white bread roll filled with: rice, fried potatoes, a generous piece of fried beef, a fried egg, tomato-onion salad and the obligatory hot sauce (containing locoto, the local chilli variant).

Do Bolivians reject McDonalds for ideological reasons? Some say so. For De Suremain (2009), for instance, the Bolivian population initiated a conscious boycott of McDonalds from around 2001 on, just around the time when the U.S. invasion of Iraq started. On the other hand, the more successful introduction of Shawarmas / Kebab in Bolivia is supposed to show Bolivian loyalty with Arab countries (ibid.).

From my experience so far, I would regard that analysis as overly political. Bolivians continue to consume all kinds of Western fast food. Moreover, almost every family meal is accompanied by the obligatory 2-litre bottle of Coca-Cola, another potential symbol of U.S. imperialism.

But here’s another piece of information: A standard McDonalds burger in La Paz used to cost the equivalent of 0.50 euro cents (about 5 Bolivianos), and a full meal 2.50 euros (about 20 Bolivianos) (De Suremain, 2009). For the amount of 5 Bolivianos, you can buy 2 or even 3 traditional salteñas, and for 20 Bolivianos, 2 persons can eat an abundant meal including drinks.

So certainly, McDonalds was only affordable for certain social strata (DeSuremain, 2009), mainly the upper-middle class that does however not depend on McDonalds for their daily alimentation. For the broad mass of Bolivian society, McDonalds was an expensive taste, too expensive to eventually get hooked on BigMacs.

Sources:

Andean Information Network Bolivia (13 January 2012). McDonalds left Bolivia in 2002; Fast Food still abundant on city streets. Retrieved from http://ain-bolivia.org/2012/01/mcdonald%E2%80%99s-left-bolivia-in-2002-fast-food-still-abundant-on-city-streets/#hide

DeSuremain, C. (2009). Shawarmas contra MacDonald’s. Globalización y estandarización alimentaria a prueba de las reivindicaciones identitarias (Bolivia). Anthropology of Food, S6, December 2009.

A SUITCASE FULL OF BOOKS

As I prepare to leave for Bolivia, I have one concern in the back of my head: Will I have enough books?

It is extremely difficult to get good quality books in Bolivia. Books printed in high quality are costly – imported, they are subject to high import taxes and, alternatively, produced in Bolivia, the cost of paper and ink (which have to be imported) is a huge burden to publishers (ICEX, April 2005).

Thus, the easiest way to access books in Bolivia is via the black market. Illegal copies of all kinds of books, mainly produced in Peru, swamp the local market and make life for serious publishers and bookshops difficult (ibid.).

If you want a book that does not have one or several chapters missing and that is less middle-of-the-road (because only mainstream trash is profitable for the black market), you have to pay a price comparable to European levels. The other day, I bought a paperback textbook from a Bolivian publisher for about 10 Euros. Bearable for the “gringo” visitor, but for the Bolivian a luxury good.

No wonder that books and reading are a status symbol in Bolivia (ICEX, April 2005). This is also linked to the problem of illiteracy. The former government under Carlos Mesa launched a campaign to support reading, which has however not been put into practice until now (ibid.). The current government fights illiteracy, and has declared the country “free of illiteracy” (BBC mundo, 2008).

Still, there are controversies around the actual illiteracy rates in Bolivia. First of all, the national statistical institute only has numbers up to 2001. And then, it has been brought up that the program against illiteracy has not gone far enough – teaching people to write their name and read basic texts does not mean they are actually literate in the sense of being able to understand what they read and write (Universitarios Boliva, 2008).

In this sense, I am far more privileged than the average Bolivian, being able to read and write, and in different languages! I will be able to import books in English language somehow, and in the meantime I have decided to pay more attention to what is published here – rarely read but important contributions to the debate about the development of Bolivia. There are interesting academic editorials like PLURAL (www.plural.bo) and PIEB (www.pieb.org), and did you know that Bolivia has its own edition of Le Monde Diplomatique?

Still, this discovery leaves behind a bad taste: Given the problems of illiteracy and lack of access to literature – when will the broad public be able to critically analyse the country’s development?

Sources:

ICEX – Instituto Español de Comercio Exterior (April 2005). El mercado del libro en Bolivia. La Paz

BBC Mundo (20 de diciembre 2008). Bolivia, libre del analfabetismo. Retrieved from: http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/spanish/business/newsid_7793000/7793177.stm

Universitarios Bolivia (2008). El analfabetismo en Bolivia. Retrieved from: http://www.universitarios.com.bo/node/194