Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Sucre, April 4, 2012
















There have been few adventures this week. Visits to museums, observance of marches, lines of school students. As I write this I am on a park bench in the central plaza. There is a march, for what, against what, I do not know. Even with the fireworks that always accompany these marches, the park visitors do not even flinch, nor even bother to look, I assume because such events are so common to be near boredom. Most marches circle the plaza, halt traffic, but rarely are accompanied by police presence. This issue seems to be about protest of government proposal to require greater hours for doctors without commensurate pay change.

Not all marches are political demonstrations, some for celebration, others for promotion or recognition. This Easter may provide additional viewings. And, there are the lines of students crowding the sidewalks, dressed in their blue or red uniform, depending on the school of choice.

Staying on base this week gave me time to visit museums of anthropology, art, ecclesiastical and even one on the history of masks. In a way all bind together. That common link is mysticism. All seem to represent some portrayal of belief system in the power and substance of non-scientific. Neither a pro nor con statement, it is simply an observation of the strength of belief, whether it be the numerous rituals of the catholic presence or the centuries old polydeity worship of the Incan or Aymaran descendents. I previously wrote of the witch market in La Paz. Natural remedies are common. I recently listened to the conversation between my home doctor father, his sister and Leo, the cholita of the house. Sister could not sleep, so Leo provided suggestion of some natural remedy, which also required some ritual involving a cross. The medical doctor seemed to have no problem with the recommendation, with questions following on where to purchase.

The anthropology museum was fairly interesting, showing development of tools, ceramics, textiles as well as mummies to display the preparation of dead for the afterlife. Thankfully Incan royalty is no longer present, for all servants and the favorite wives of the king would be buried with him after his death.

The mask museum was amusing. All had the beauty of hand made craft, some more advanced and colorful than others. The largest and most colorful and detailed were bigger than me. What a weight to carry to communicate to the spirits via dance, to attract spiritual help or to dispel the evil. Alas, photos no permiten, so my best was from the anthropology museum.

With my professor of the week, much of the discussion was about the central importance of the mystical in Bolivia. Some of the indigeneous believe their president is a reincarnation of Incan deity. Talk about the power of incumbency. An intesting story in the news is a Christ sculpture in Cochabamba shedding tears of blood this Semana Santa. Supposedly verified by scientific teams.

One final excursion was with my professor who showed me a side street, cobbled, next to a convent. As the story goes, a woman was rejected by the convent due to unwed pregnancy. In despair she killed baby and self and subsquently haunted the street. To ward off the evil an outdoor exorcism was conducted. So, as part of that ritual, human bones were placed in cross fashion in the street, in several locations along its length. Quite an eerie scene.

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