Forum on renewable energy
By Senator Ben-Zion Ptashnik, Jan 12, 2007

This article first appeared in Atención, January 12, 2007.

More than 10,000 scientists from around the world, including 52 Nobel laureates, have gone on record that global warming is real and urgent and the time has come to shift from personal denial to personal responsibility on the issue of climate change. That is the theme of the Renewable Energy Forum and Expo at the Instituto Allende, Friday through Sunday, January 19–21.

The overall purpose is to build public awareness of how individuals and businesses can contribute to the emerging battle to slow global climate change and how public officials and building trades professionals can participate in the application of new technologies in this emerging alternative energy sector.

The Expo, which starts at 5pm on Friday and runs through Sunday afternoon, features displays of various alternative wind and solar technologies and offers two free public viewings of An Inconvenient Truth, Al Gore’s acclaimed documentary on global warming, at 7pm on Friday and Saturday.

The Renewable Energy Forum includes speakers on emerging new policies for renewable energy in Mexico and focuses on opportunities for homeowners and builders to actively utilize these emerging technologies. A Saturday workshop for architects and builders is designed to help them integrate solar and wind technology into house planning and design and to review the economics and affordability of various solar and wind generator technologies.

Dr. Jorge Huacuz, Gerente de Energías No Convencionales for the Instituto de Investigaciones Eléctricas, is the keynote speaker for the event. The Institute is the engineering organization that designs the power grid in Mexico for the CFE. Dr. Huacuz is in charge of all alternative energy research projects and policies in Mexico.

The Renewable Energy Forum/Expo is sponsored by EarthRight Institute of Norwich, Vermont, and Solar San Miguel International LLC.

We are the solution to global warming

A 2005 study on perceptions of global warming found that “most people are moderately concerned,” but that 68 percent believe the greatest threats are to people far away” or that climate changes will only affect some remote natural habitat. This is a dangerous and delusional misperception. 

A recently released British government report, the “Stern Review on the Economics of Climate Change,” gives credence to the scientific predictions of dire consequences of accelerating greenhouse gases. The report clearly indicates that huge economic and social disruptions are only a few decades away and that these disruptions are global.

Yet the report also gives hope and predicts that if we begin today and take logical and steadfast actions over the next decade, we can achieve a world of reduced emissions. We can wean ourselves from the addiction to fossil fuels.

The Stern report was commissioned by the British Chancellor of the Exchequer and prepared by one of the world’s leading economists, Sir Nicholas Stern. It has been endorsed by four Nobel Prize-winning economists and the president of the World Bank. For many, global warming is perceived to be an insoluble problem, yet science shows that we humans are born with powerful tools for solving seemingly immutable problems. “We have the genetic smarts and the cultural smarts. We have the technological know-how. And we even have the inclination.”

In response to special interests that argue that recommended steps to reduce global warming emissions are too costly to the economy, the Stern Review makes a strong counter-argument that the real economic damage will come from inaction rather than the remedial steps that many scientists have advocated. The report estimates that acting now to stabilize climate change could cost 1 percent of global GDP each year—a relatively manageable cost—but that the losses from inaction “would reach 5 percent to 20 percent of global GDP year after year, now and forever.” Climate change might be among the catalytic forces—along with oil depletion—that are grave enough to break us out of our cultural trance. It might induce us to move from a culture of consumption and waste to one of sustainability and community. 

Families might have one car rather than two. We might have less stuff. We can harness the power of the sun and wind and tides. We can switch to local, organically grown foods and eat fruits and vegetables in season, reestablishing our relationship with nature. The truth is we can change ourselves with breathtaking speed and still be happy human beings.

Tipping points in society and culture sometimes happen overnight and can seem overwhelming at times. The good news is that history proves we’re capable of keeping up. We are flexible.

When George W. Bush says we can’t act on global warming until we “fully understand the nature of the problem,” we can use his clearly callous disregard as a rallying cry. We can take action, knowing that our children’s future should not be held hostage to the bottom lines of special business interests and energy corporations.

The truth is, humans can change very quickly. Our hallmark is adaptability. History proves that when we behold a better world, we move toward it. We know what to do. We know how to do it. And now that we know the timeline, we can create our own tipping point. Come to the Expo/Forum and see how you can make a difference.

A complete schedule for the Renewable Energy Expo and Forum appears on page 18. Senator Ben-Zion Ptashnik is a retired state senator for Windsor County, Vermont, and a full-time resident of San Miguel de Allende.

North Looking South
By John Barham, Jan 19, 2007

Adiós, Saddam: A consideration of Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush

During a six-year stay in the Middle East, I had the opportunity to visit Baghdad and Mosul in Iraq. It was a time just before the Iraq-Iran war, and my main impression was that Iraq was flourishing, owing to its oil revenues. Many Iraqis were eager to talk to an American, and I learned much about their country during my two-week visit.

Most Iraqis with whom I spoke were enthusiastic about their strongman-president, who at that time was considered to be in collaboration with the Reagan administration. In fact, just before leaving Riyadh for Baghdad, I have a vivid memory of a photo in the Arab News showing a warm embrace between Saddam Hussein and Donald Rumsfeld during one of his visits to Iraq.

The outward political stability that I observed in Iraq was obviously rigidly enforced. Any cursory review of Levantine history will show that Iraq was artificially cobbled together by the British Empire, and its various ethnic constituencies could only have coexisted under the rule of an iron hand. In many ways, the rule of Saddam resembled that of Tito in Yugoslavia, where Serbs, Croats, Bosnians, Muslims and Christians were forced into a “pax Tito” by virtue of the strength of the dictator.

The extreme heterogeneity that characterized Iraq was exacerbated in its early history by the British effort to place in power a Hashemite ruler over a hodgepodge of Sunnites, Shiites, Kurds, Chaldaeans, Syrians and minority groups of Christians and Jews. The eventual overthrow of the Hashemite king and the rise of the secularist Baathist party and associated military regimes seem now to have been more than predictable. In retrospect, Saddam’s rise to power was by virtue of a flawed map sketched out by the striped-pants crowd in London.

As the high tide of empire receded, the United States began to fill the void in the Middle East left by Britain. Unfortunately, American diplomacy was not a great improvement over British bungling. And, of course, American history shows that most administrations have taken the easy road of dealing with dictators to achieve their aims. To the Reagan administration, Saddam was simply a pawn to play against the Islamist Shiite regime in Tehran.

Despite their limitations, dictators, especially those who feel they have the support of the great powers, usually are affected by grandiose ambitions. And so it was with Saddam, whose craving for Kuwaiti oil fields was provoked in part by the lackluster skills of American Ambassador April Glaspie, who unwittingly led Saddam to think that the United States would not concern itself with his aggrandizement of Kuwaiti oil. The result was the first Gulf War and the American-led coalition that restrained Saddam and compelled Iraqi forces to abandon Kuwait and its oil fields.

Sadly, George W. Bush did not distinguish Iraq as a potential quagmire as his father had. Neither did the current Bush administration take into account the ethnic and religious animosities that would work against the imposition of “democracy.” And, further confusing the situation, the second Bush administration misled much of the electorate to forge a connection between the secularist Baathist regime of Saddam and Islamic terrorism, while lying to Congress and the American people about weapons of mass destruction. The consequence has been an on-going hemorrhaging of American blood and treasure—in a conflict now approaching the length of US involvement in World War II—and the cultivation of fertile soil for the spawning of more and more terrorists.

Last week, I read of the execution of Saddam Hussein. My feelings were mixed. Saddam was a brutal dictator whose regime was guilty of numerous atrocities. But, at the same time, he was a creature of the intrigues and diplomatic maneuverings of the great powers. His sins were many; but, compared to the ambitions of George W. Bush and his neo-conservative mentors, whose extreme irresponsibility and ignorance of the Middle East have been responsible for untold thousands of innocent deaths, his execution would seem to be the ultimate act of hypocrisy. Hopefully, the new Congress in Washington will shed light on the Bush regime and the reckless policies that have caused America to assume the role of a pariah throughout much of the world.

May the people of Iraq eventually live in peace. And may George W. Bush eventually be called to account for the irregularities of his administration that have spread misery and discord and have triggered far more crimes against humanity than all those perpetrated by Saddam Hussein.

John Barham, who retired from the University of Missouri last June, is a full-time resident of San Miguel. During his 40-year career in higher education, John was an administrator and professor in colleges and universities in Alabama, Texas, New York, Missouri and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. He may be reached at barhamjw@yahoo.com.  

The Bridges of London
By Bill Gallacher

This article first appeared in Atención, February 23, 2007.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle This happy breed of men, this little world This precious stone set in the silver sea This blessed plot, this earth, this realm This England. ─William Shakespeare

My first brush with London was that faraway 60s summer when Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones were changing popular music forever, Julie Christie was every man’s desire and Carnaby Street ruled the fashion waves. Like most adolescents, my thoughts then were far from bridges. I had a job as a construction labourer on Regent Street in the heart of the city, earning thirty quid (pounds) a week and feeling on top the world, having just taken Samuel Johnson’s contentious advice that “the noblest prospect a Scotsman can ever see is the high road that leads to England.” Even then, London—with its cosmopolitan culture, ‘swinging’ mores and high prices—was an intimidating place for a callow youth from north of the border. Forty years have come and gone since I last tasted the pleasures of this city, currently the most-visited, most-expensive metropolis on the planet. To be frank, I have never felt a great desire to go back; yet, here I am, in the dead of winter, like a doddering fool, battling blinding rain and gale force winds, struggling to cross the Millenium Bridge, barely managing to stand upright, with my umbrella a twisted mass of shredded fabric and broken wires. Why?

Why, you might reasonably ask, would anyone leave sunny San Miguel de Allende in mid-December for these dreary and sunless shores? Simple. Your daughter announces she is marrying an Englishman on his home turf. I had given her away once before, only to have her ‘returned to sender,’ as it were. But, being a generous and biddable soul, I have responded to the summons, made my speech, managed neither to stumble nor blubber, nor insult the groom’s family in any irreparable way. Now that the ceremonies are over and I have survived the Queen’s Christmas speech, the time is ripe for me to survey 21st century London and see what has and has not changed in the four decades of my absence. One thing does strike me, right off the bat. I seem to remember English being the predominant language of the United Kingdom. Now, I’m not so sure, for it seems as though half of Eastern Europe has moved here. Were it not for the Bovril, Horlicks, and Cadbury Chocolate Flakes ads, you could easily mistake the venerable London Tube for the Moscow Underground. Even England’s premier soccer club, Chelsea, has fallen into the hands of a Russian ‘gazillionaire’ who is suspected of looting his country’s treasury but has nevertheless brought his fortune into Britain, through the Byzantine workings of Whitehall. Of course, he is an exception. A great many of the Russians and Poles are working at minimum wage and have been enticed from their native countries by the high (to them) wages offered to those servicing London’s giant tourism engine. Not that we ourselves, as tourists here, have any cause to complain about the Slavic invasion. Indeed, what has made this trip almost affordable is the collusion of a distant Polish relative who works in the Kensington Hilton Hotel, and who, as a perk, has secured us accommodation at about one-third the normal rate, which, for a room that would give a Japanese dwarf severe claustrophobia, goes for around $275 per night—with a $30 per day charge for the privilege of hooking up one’s own computer to their internet. (A service that is free in almost any motel in the USA.) To pull off this ‘familial’ subterfuge, I have had to remember to respond to the name Woytanya at various ‘checkpoints’ and affect a credible Slavic intonation, but it’s amazing how a monetary incentive of this magnitude can polish the ‘brass balls'’ of a Scotsman. No more Kowalski jokes out of me—at least until we’re back in Mexico. But, even with the Hilton windfall, London has still been a wallet-busting proposition, and I am rounding out this trip, perhaps by way of protest, in the true spirit of my countrymen from north of the border. You see, in incandescent contrast to everything else in this city, crossing the bridges of London costs precisely nothing. 

The act of crossing a bridge on foot isn’t much of a challenge. That, I’ll gladly concede, because short of dropping dead in the middle or being run over by a bus or a car, one is very unlikely to fail. But what about crossing all twenty or so bridges in Metropolitan London in one uninterrupted odyssey, in a howling gale, in the dead of winter? It is precisely self-inflicted ‘challenges’ like this that get me into the kind of predicament that I find myself in now, for I am just about to be blown off the Millenium Bridge, the fourth ‘walkable’ Thames bridge, for anyone heading up-river with bridge-crossing in mind. An hour ago, I started out at the most easterly of London’s city bridges, Tower Bridge, my destination being Kew Bridge, about twelve miles away as the river flows. Naturally, I will not be flowing with the river. With all the criss-crossing and embankment deviations I’ll have to negotiate, this may easily turn out to be a fifteen-mile walk.

Tower Bridge, architecturally the most famous of all London’s bridges, is a marvel of late-Victorian engineering, and the only bridge across the Thames that can be raised for ships to pass. (A bus driver once had the unnerving experience of having the bridge open as he was crossing. However, in true British style, he stiffened his upper lip, accelerated towards the widening gap and managed to vault the bus across.) Between Tower Bridge and the Millenium, where I am now standing, I have crossed over London and Southwark Bridges, and walked under Cannon Street Railway Bridge—which does not accommodate pedestrians. London Bridge is an unremarkable concrete arch bridge built in 1973 on account of its predecessor having been disassembled block by block, shipped across the Atlantic, and then reassembled on Lake Havasu in Arizona, where it is now that state’s second most visited attraction. It was a short hop from London Bridge to Southwark Bridge, where I paused briefly at mid-span and looked down into the murky wa
ters, recalling the grim event that took place there in the early hours of August 20, 1989. The Thames is only about 800 feet wide here (John Daly could knock a golf ball across with a driver) and, although there is a huge diurnal tidal variation of perhaps twenty-five feet, there are no especially dangerous currents. It was a fine summer’s night, and the water would have been perfectly swimmable, if hardly inviting. Yet, 51 young people in their 20s and 30s died there, in one of history’s freakiest nautical disasters. A party boat of about 30 tons displacement, the Marchionness by name, was rammed in the dark by a 2000-ton barge, which, instead of side-swiping the lighter craft, ran right over the top of it, crushing it against the shallow river bed like a steam-roller flattening a sardine can. The revelers didn’t drown; they were crushed.

As if responding to my morbid mood, the sky darkened, and the wind strengthened. It had been gale-force to start with and now was complemented by a viciously stinging rain, a rain that accompanied me all the way to the Millenium Bridge, the site of my present cold, wet, and miserable predicament. The Millenium is the first absolutely new bridge across the Thames to be constructed in a hundred years and has been sited to connect St Paul’s Cathedral on the north bank with the Tate Modern Gallery on the south. From a distance, it appears as a fragile ribbon of steel, atop two slender pillars of concrete. It is, in fact, a rather cleverly engineered mini-suspension bridge of the Golden Gate or Brooklyn variety, but without their soaring piers. After a literally ‘shaky’ opening in 2000 (It had to close for two years to solve a swaying problem), the Millenium has been given a clean bill of health and is now a major tourist attraction. Not today, however. The few hardy souls who have ventured onto it most likely wish they hadn’t and are more into survival than sight-seeing. With its minimal railing system affording unobstructed views up and down the river, the Millenium is no place to ride out this near-hurricane, and I’ll be very relieved to get off it, head for Blackfriars, find a place to dry out, have a pint—or maybe two—and make some ‘bridge’ notes to send to that great British institution made famous by Monty Python’s John Cleese—the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Things are looking decidedly up. After negotiating Blackfriars Bridge, I have staggered into Doggety’s tavern on the southern embankment, an establishment I can unreservedly recommend for that great English delicacy known as ‘fish and chips with mushy peas,’ although the $20 a plate tab has been enough to give me a serious case of heartburn, only made tolerable by the downing of a cool pint of soothing Guinness. If that celebrated English detective, Sherlock Homes, could somehow be reincarnated in present-day London, he would surely be perplexed by The Strange Case of the Overvalued Pound. Let me explain. If, as a dollar-conscious traveler you were to simply go by the posted numbers and the decimal point, London might seem like a moderately expensive city in the United States. The problem is that a British pound at the moment exchanges for two American dollars, not one, as logic would dictate. Exactly why this exchange rate persists is one of the enduring mysteries of modern economics—yet a mystery that has cost a great many currency traders (including yours truly) a great deal of money on the short side in recent years.

Bill Gallacher is a regular contributor of ironic works to Atención.

A behind-the-scenes look at some of the biggest stories of our time
By Alexis White

This article first appeared in Atención, March 9, 2007.

What is it like to be a 6-foot 7-inch American standing in the middle of a “Death-to-America” rally in Peshawar, Pakistan?

Find out when John Burnett, the award-winning National Public Radio correspondent, discusses his newest book, Uncivilized Beasts and Shameless Hellions: Travels with an NPR Correspondent (Rodale Press).

The program is presented by CEPET, the Center for Journalism and Public Ethics, (Centro de Periodismo y Ética Pública). Tickets, on a first come-first served basis, will be available at the door. The 50 peso admission fee will go toward CEPET’s freedom of information training programs for Mexican journalists as well as its freedom of the press monitoring and networking activities in the country.

Burnett’s book is a behind-the-scenes account of his experiences in a career that spans two decades of covering stories for NPR. In addition to reading excerpts from his book, Burnett provides audio field recordings that form the basis of its chapters. A question and answer session follows his presentation.

A regular contributor to NPR’s Morning Edition, All Things Considered and Weekend Edition programs, Burnett is an NPR roving correspondent, whose beat covers the length and breadth of the United States and the world. He has reported from some 25 countries, and covered the biggest stories of our time as well as the ones that often fall between the cracks as events unfold.

NPR listeners will recall hearing Burnett at the start of the war in Iraq. He was embedded with the First Marine Division and moved with the troops from Kuwait into Baghdad. His reporting was cited when NPR’s overall coverage of the war received a prestigious Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University Award. His discovery and reporting of the accidental US Air Force bombing of an Iraqi village, gave brutal meaning to the so-called “fog of war” and earned Burnett a national Edward R. Murrow Award from the Radio-Television News Directors Association for investigative reporting.

Burnett also reported from New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina. His reports from New York City, Pakistan and Afghanistan following 9/11 contributed to coverage that 
garnered NPR the Overseas Press Club Award as well as an Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University Award. The emergence of Central America as a major drug smuggling region was explored in depth in his series “Cocaine Republics.” Closer to home, Burnett investigated corruption among federal immigration agents on the US-Mexico border, reporting for which he won a 2003 National Headliner Award.

“John Burnett is a reporter’s reporter with a special gift for telling stories that enable listeners to see,” said Leonarda Reyes, founder and director of CEPET. “We are privileged and honored to have him as our guest and know that those who attend will be treated to an engaging and highly informative program.”

CEPET is a nonpartisan, nonprofit organization whose mission is to promote 

independent investigative and public interest journalism that will contribute to a more informed society in Mexico. It sponsors training workshops in partnership with IFAI, (El Instituto Federal de Acceso a la Información Pública), an independent agency charged with implementing and overseeing all aspects of Mexico’s freedom of information law (Ley Federal de Transparencia y Acceso a la Información Pública Gubernamental). The workshops bring together experienced journalists for training in techniques and aspects of investigative journalism with a focus on public interest issues.

CEPET also plays a major role in protecting the rights of journalists by issuing alerts to national and international organizations about threats to freedom of the press (freedom of expression). It has just received a US$5,000 challenge grant (every dollar contributed will be matched up to that amount) in support of this awareness program, which earned CEPET a nomination for the 2007 “Defender of Press Freedom” award from Reporters without Borders.

Editors, reporters, columnists and writers working in Mexico’s media industry, as well as Mexican journalism professors and students, belong to CEPET. Mexico has over 300 daily and weekly newspapers, 1,600 magazines and thousands of radio and television stations.

For further information about CEPET or how to contribute to its challenge grant, please contact Leonarda Reyes at leonare@cepet.org. 

Alicia’s Cookin’ at Bee Natural…And Lots More!
Text and photos by Deborah Whitehouse

This article first appeared in Atención, March 30, 2007.

One of San Miguel’s most creative cooks has joined Bee Natural, the inspired organic foods store in Centro.

When I first met Alicia Rivero she was serving lunch to 20 people on Wednesday afternoons in the back yard of her home in Col. Aurora. The fortunate 20 were seated at a long shaded table where we got to know each other while dining on some of the best fresh foods in San Miguel. When winter arrived, her “Loncheria” evolved into a take-out falafel business (aka “Falafel House”). Now Alicia is preparing these same sumptuous foods and many more at Bee Natural, one of San Miguel’s most progressive organic food stores.


What a change! Alicia’s original food creations are made from the store’s finest organic produce, grains and legumes including her famous falafel salad with tahini dressing, rice cakes with steamed greens, lentil salad with fresh aioli, whole wheat pasta salads with roasted tomatoes, 3 bean salads, all with a variety of dressings. The main dishes include lasagnas, quinoa casseroles and quiches, fresh vegetable soups with gourmet garnishes, and sides of hummus, nut pates, and guacamole. Add to this her gourmet jams, muffins and snacks for a wonderful assortment of earthly delights!

“We use products that are chemical free, organic, and when possible, local.” Alicia says. “The menu will rotate to offer whatever is fresh and in season.” Although the service is take-out, the back patio will soon be open so that people can eat outside with fresh organic fruit drinks and coffee from the bar.” 

Alicia has been in professional kitchens since she was 14 and studied the art of pastries at the famous Culinary Institute of America, but she began her cooking career in San Miguel as chef at La Carpa. In spite of her professional success, she still claims that her life-long passion for cooking is inspired by a life-long passion for eating!

But that’s not all. Over the past three years Bee Natural has become a leader in the organic food movement in San Miguel by supporting local, organic growers. According to owner Jorge Catalán, the organic food industry in Mexico is growing at a very fast rate and small local producers are now formulating guidelines and setting standards for the future organic foods business and sustainable living in Mexico. 

Jorge Catalán’s vision for Bee Natural, supported by partners Lynn Learned and Andy Blair, is a place where people can not only enjoy the finest foods possible, but also create a community where information and new ideas can be shared for a better future. 

One quantum leap in this direction involves the sharing of organic farming information and ideas with the local campesinos and engaging their participation in this process. According to Jorge, a movement is now underway to unite local farmers in a cooperative effort to promote healthy farming standards throughout the area. Local farmers Luiz Suárez of “Las Glorias del Huerto” and Ettore Steffani are spearheading the movement. These and other local farmers are creating their own standards and certifying procedures, while acting as watchdogs for each other in order to avoid corruption, a pitfall of International Organic Certification in many areas. 

Today, Bee Natural hosts a unique assortment of products and services from a wide range of organic producers. In addition to those mentioned above, Karl Jankay and Polita of “La Trinidad” supply a variety of greens and beets, Patricia Hernández supplies cow and goat cheese and yogurt , Toyán, supplies onions, broccoli, wheat, and green beans; and Tere Gaherdo supplies fruit jams. Bee farmer Alejandro Bianchi, who is also a bee therapist, supplies local honey, bee propolis, pollen and cough remedies. In addition to this, his practice includes the use of bee venom injected in acupuncture points to relieve aching tendons, muscles, and arthritic joints. According to Alejandro, bee venom is one of the strongest anti-inflammatories known and much easier on your body than pharmaceutical cortisone.

Other interesting products at Bee Natural include a frozen raw dog food, 

BARC, and biodegradable pooper-scooper bags. No joke. BARC is a safe and properly balanced dog food created by animal behaviorist Charlotte Pelz. As for the pooper-scooper bags, resident pet enthusiast Andy Blair is incredulous that biodegradable dog droppings are put in plastic bags destined for land fills when there is an alternative for less than 2 cents a bag! 

Buying from local organic growers enables Bee Natural to support the organic food chain in San Miguel with an eye to future sustainable living in an area already pushing its infrastructure to accommodate development. Many hope this trend will continue to grow as more people become aware of its value. For those already in the loop it’s a gift! 

Bee Natural’s new location in Centro is Calle Nueva 7, across from the Fish Taco Palapa behind Espino’s. 154-8629.

Hospice San Miguel brings comfort and care to the terminally ill
By Françoise Lemieux, March 30, 2007

This article first appeared in Atención, March 30, 2007.

We spend a lot of time thinking about how to live our lives, but how much thought do we devote to how we will die? We write wills, maybe even make burial arrangements—but what if we are diagnosed with a terminal illness? How on earth do we deal with that? First, the news, then the decisions about how to live our final months.

Will our family be there for us? Or, God forbid, will we die alone?

Enter Hospice San Miguel, founded by a group of local residents whose own experience with dying friends and relatives made a deep impression on them. Hospice offers people for whom medical intervention will no longer produce results an alternative to dying in an institution. Hospice workers are willing to do all they can to help people make the final transition as comfortably as possible—physically, mentally, and spiritually.

“People who enter hospice typically have a disease considered to be incurable, generally with a prognosis of less than six months,” says Lee Carter, co-founder, director, and vice president of Hospice San Miguel.

“Hospice focuses on quality of life and dignity. When days are limited, hospice tries to make the most of each day.” 

Carter’s younger brother died of pancreatic cancer. He and his family were so impressed with, and grateful for, the help they received from hospice that they all became volunteers. Carter’s father, an advisory board member for a Virginia hospice for the final eight years of his life, died in hospice care in January, 2006. 

Hospice San Miguel co-founders Milou de Montferrier, president and volunteer coordinator, and secretary and spokesperson Joanie Barcal both nursed loved ones through their deaths without the benefit of hospice care. What they went through led to a heartfelt commitment to helping loved ones die with dignity in a loving environment. They believe that a terminal illness doesn’t have to be painful, lonely and overwhelming. “It’s a choice people can make. Instead of going on with doctors, hospitals and medications,” says Montferrier, “they choose to go peacefully and at home.” 

The possibility of having hospice care in San Miguel is deeply important to our sizeable elderly community, as many no longer have family, or at least none nearby. For them, hospice can mean the difference between being sent back to the States and/or being institutionalized or letting go gently among friends—here, in this beautiful place where they have chosen to make their lives. And when family members come to San Miguel to care for ailing relatives, Hospice San Miguel will be an invaluable resource to them.

Modeled upon the philosophy and established procedures of programs in England and the US, Hospice San Miguel’s doctor and staff work with the patient, his or her doctor and the family. They are committed to minimizing suffering, maximizing quality of life, and counseling and accompanying the patient through the process. The emphasis is on palliative care, which, as opposed to fighting a disease, focuses on providing as much comfort and symptom relief as possible. In most cases, care is compassionately provided in the patient’s home.

The nurturing is complete: it eases the progression of an illness for the patient’s family, as well as offering immediate caregivers education, training, professional and volunteer help, psychological, spiritual and grief counseling, as well as assistance with funeral arrangements. Bereavement counseling is also available, even long after the death of the patient. 

Hospice San Miguel is currently putting together a team to make this service a reality. Dr Roberto Maxwell, who studied medicine in the US and has a private practice in town, heads up the medical team. On board are a social worker and administrator, as well as psychologists Dr. Martha Horton and Dr. Liz Seabrook. 

The center is being assessed by hospices in Florida and in Virginia. Workshops start next month, with a visit from Florida nurses. Later this summer, a team of doctors and nurses from the US will participate.

Hospice San Miguel offers their services regardless of the patient’s ability to pay. A non-profit, non-governmental organization, they receive no government funding. This means both that they are free to tailor the program specifically to the needs of our own bicultural community, and that they will rely entirely on fundraising, contributions, and volunteers. 

Want to help? Donations to Hospice San Miguel are tax-deductible. In addition to financial support, the center needs donations of medical equipment—beds, wheelchairs, walkers, bedside commodes, and anything else that will assist in comforting those moving on from this life in San Miguel.

Volunteers are the core of any hospice program. People who want to help will receive training and will have infinite ways to make a difference (see sidebar). No previous experience is necessary. “Everyone can make a difference in the life of the person who is dying,” says Barcal. “And in the lives of all who are touched by their leaving.”

In order for Hospice San Miguel to function, they need financial donations and/or your caregiving time. Montferrier is dedicated to the need for hospice care in San Miguel. As she says: “Nobody should have to go through this alone.”

For information, to donate or to volunteer, please call 415-154-4287, email info@hospicesma.org or stop by. Hospice SMA is located on calle Manuel Rocha 35 in colonia La Lejona and welcomes visitors Monday through Friday, between 10am and 1pm. Also, visit the website at www.hospicesanmiguel.org. All inquiries are totally confidential.

History gets the short shift in beauty pageant
By Atención staff

This article first appeared in Atención, May 4, 2007.

It’s that time again, the day we’ve all been waiting for, that once a year extravaganza of beauty, and well, more beauty—the Miss Universe pageant this year is even more dear to Mexico as it will be held May 28 at the Mexico City National Auditorium.

Perfect hair, perfect bodies, circus music, unforgettable (and regrettable) choreography, a dais of botoxed has-beens on the judges’ panel and this year, to top it all off, a raging controversy swirling up and around the dress of Miss Mexico.

The lovely Rosa Maria Ojeda presented the billowing, hoop-skirted dress March 29, and in a story reported from Taipei to Tijuana, outrage and uproar ensued. It seems the dress, belted by bullets, is decorated with scenes of Mexico’s Cristero War, the 1920s uprising by rebel Catholics against the fervently secular post-Revolution government. Tens of thousands died in the three year conflict.

Hector Terrones, a member of the selection committee that chose the dress from among 30 entries, told the Mexican national daily, La Jornada that they wanted a dress that “would make you think of Mexico.” Hmm... Rebels hanging from posts, a man facing a firing squad, a bullet-studded bandolero belt, scapularies, rosaries and a huge crucifix necklace topped off with a black halter-top and wide-brimmed sombrero—if that isn’t enough to make you think of Mexico, you should know that the whole thing was made from manta.

The gown’s designer, Maria del Rayo Macias, told La Jornada that “we are descendants of the Cristeros. Whether we like it or not, it’s part of who we are.” Macias is from the heartland of the Cristero movement, Guadalajara.

“Inappropriate, shocking, in poor taste, insensitive, a painful reminder of the past”—the usual litany of outrage rippled through the airwaves. Pundits shuddered at a possible perceived parallel to the current spate of drug-related bloodletting and beheadings. For their part, church officials (ever known for their unique sense of style) expressed disapproval over using war as a fashion statement…

Has political correctness thrust its hand up Miss Mexico’s skirt or is La Jornada columnist Jorge Camil right in saying that a dress is not the place to recount such an event, that it would be like Miss USA showing up in a KKK robe and hood. He added something about burning crosses and beer cans but the scope of Klan lore doesn’t extend to the significance of the beer cans. Camil said, “A beauty contest is very far from being the right place to vent political and religious ideologies.” Just what a beauty contest is for he didn’t say.

Who’s to say a history lesson shouldn’t be squeezed in between all those long legs and perfect teeth? How about Miss France sporting a guillotine? But, alas, it is just a beauty pageant, the women and their dresses should be beautiful even if history isn’t.

On my mind…

The “gimme” spirituality of The Secret
By Joseph Dispenza

This article first appeared in Atención, May 11, 2007.

“Greed, like the love of comfort, is a kind of fear.”–Cyril Connolly (1903-1974)

Leave it to our consumer capitalist culture to turn even high spiritual principles into cash. The creed of spiritual materialism has been inching up on us since those primitive enclaves of fringe evangelical churches, where perspiration-drenched preachers shouted into hand-mikes, “God wants you to have a Cadillac!” But now the message that heaven is waiting to drop a sack of loot on us—if we will only concentrate real hard and believe it—has reached the mainstream.

“The Bank of the Universe is open!” announces the newsletter of The Secret, the best-selling self-help book and DVD by author and producer Rhonda Byrne that has taken the country by storm. Its immense popularity has been propelled not only by the tabloid media, but also by the relatively respectable Oprah and Larry King TV shows, and even the comparatively conventional CBS Sunday Morning, which recently ran a feature story on it from the birthplace of Normal Vincent Peale, godfather of the ‘positive thinking’ movement.

Briefly, the secret of The Secret is the Law of Attraction—you can have anything you want simply by asking for it and setting your mind on receiving it. Three steps will deliver the golden goose to your doorstep: ask, believe, and receive. ‘Unlimited abundance’ awaits you if you will formulate what you want specifically, believe that a generous universe will bestow it upon you, and remain open to accepting it fully when it arrives.

In other clothing, this is the New Age philosophy (and mantra), ‘You create your own reality.’ Since the universe is a blank slate, we can write anything we want on it. If we write “I’m a nobody,” we will get back low self-esteem; if we write “I am successful and rich,” success and wealth must surely follow. Some of this may sound virtually self-evident to our psychologically hip ears—the ‘New’ Age, after all, has been with us for over thirty years. But receive a diagnosis of cancer or suffer a near-fatal auto accident and the idea that you are creating your own reality can be quite a cruel self-judgment. This business of believing we create reality entirely on our own, without the co-creative efforts of others, can leave us in a terribly lonely place, from which a downward spiral is inevitable. 

At the root of The Secret and so many of the other recent treatises in this genre, including Wayne Dyer’s The Power of Intention, James Arthur Ray’s The Science of Success, and Esther Hicks’ The Law of Attraction: the Teachings of Abraham, is a kind of spiritual get-rich-quick scheme that will bring you wealth (always wealth!) and other good things without effort. You can skip all the tough psychological and emotional work on yourself and jump right to the ‘spiritual’ dividends because intending something hard enough will make it appear—because, well, God wants you to have a Cadillac.


Certainly, under The Secret and its precursors and imitators lies a spiritual truth. Surely there is such a thing as the Law of Attraction. Who does not believe that if you think positively about something—landing a good job, say—you have a good chance of getting one, assuming your resumé is in order, you dress properly for the interview, and you impress your prospective employer with your professionalism. The Secret falls apart at the point where it assumes your resumé, wardrobe, and professional demeanor do not matter. You can bypass all the hard prep and go directly to the reward. All it takes is to ask for the job, believe you will get it, and be open to receiving it. Circle the want ad, tape it on your bedroom wall where you can see it every night when you go to bed and in the morning when you wake up, presto—the job is yours. Unfortunately, or fortunately, if you are a believer in common sense, the world does not work that way.

Something else rings hollow in The Secret. “You can have everything,” in the words of the DVD’s trailer, “Happiness, health, and wealth.” Nothing about working for world peace or alleviating the suffering of others, nothing about becoming more spiritually evolved or offering ourselves for service to a wounded humanity or discovering our life’s meaning and purpose. There is a Law of Attraction, but must we use its power to pamper our already inflated egos? Must it always boil down to stuffing our pockets with unexpected financial windfalls or lounging around at upscale spas, or finding a really good parking place?

In this matter of living abundantly, there is a higher spiritual law, one that makes attracting a fortune by intending it seem like small potatoes by comparison. The higher law has been revealed to us down the ages by spiritual masters. Like ‘the secret,’ however, this higher law has gotten lost from time to time, has been hidden away, has been forgotten, has been suppressed. Unlike ‘the secret,’ it acknowledges the primacy of our essential spiritual nature—that we are spiritual beings walking a human path, not the other way around—and that, therefore, we do not need to go outside ourselves to bring in good things.

The source of our supply is within us, this spiritual law states, because we are in essence a spark of the fire that lights the universe, and everything that is in the fire is in the spark. Everything we need is already here within, according to this Law of Spiritual Supply. The challenge for us is to know it, acknowledge it and then release it into the world. Things do not come to us from the outside, they manifest in the outside world from the firm conviction that we already have them. This is how the Indian avatar Sai Baba is able to materialize vibuthi (sacred ash), brass and gold statues of deities, sugar candy, fruits and other objects out of thin air. It is at the heart of the Buddha’s self-multiplication, being able to be in many places at the same time. The Hindu saints Shankara, Caitanya, and Mira Bai performed ‘miracles’ with it. By the same law, Jesus fed five thousand people with five loaves of bread and two fish.

David Spangler, in Everyday Miracles: The Inner Art of Manifestation, calls it a spiritual truth that puts us in touch with the inexhaustible source of creative energy rooted at the very foundation of the universe. The American spiritual teacher Joel Goldsmith (1892-1964), writes in Invisible Supply, “Supply is spirit and it is within you—it is infinite and it is omnipresent wherever you may be.”

The kingdom of God is within us, as the Enlightened ones have been telling us for many centuries. And because it is, we already have everything we need. All that is required of us is knowing that truth, holding it, and then “opening out a way” in the words of mystic poet Robert Browning, “whence the imprisoned splendor may escape.” The Law of Spiritual Supply is not about bringing good into our experience, it is about releasing good from the infinite storehouse of the divine source within us.

This is spiritual truth that can truly transform our lives and heal the ailing human condition. Instead of stoking our already hyperactive propensity toward greed with promises of bigger homes, swimming pools, world cruises and bulging bank accounts, it encourages us to ponder the great gift of life we already have and, since it is inexhaustible, to share it with the world. Anything else is just spiritual fantasy.

Joseph Dispenza is an award-winning author, Atención columnist and co-founder of LifePath in San Miguel. You can read more of Dispenza’s articles at www.lifepathretreats.com. 

Cross cultural bloopers
Compiled by Atención staff

This article first appeared in Atención, May 25, 2007.

Here is a sampling of memorable English translations spotted in hotels, restaurants, shops and such around the world:

In a Tokyo hotel:

Is forbidden to steal hotel towels please. If you are not a person to do such a thing is please not to read notice

In a Paris elevator:

Please leave your values at the front desk

In a Yugoslavian hotel:

The flattening of underwear with pleasure is the job of the chambermaid


In a Japanese hotel:

You are invited to take advantage of the chambermaid

In the lobby of a Moscow hotel

You are welcome to visit the cemetery where famous Russian composers, artists and writers are buried daily except Thursday.

In an Austrian hotel catering to skiers:

Not to perambulate the corridors in the hours of repose in the boots of ascension

On the menu of a Swiss restaurant:

Our wines leave you nothing to hope for.

On the menu of a Polish hotel:

Salad a firm’s own make, limpid red beet soup with cheesy dumplings in the form of a finger, roasted duck let loose, beef rashers beaten up in the country people’s fashion.

Outside a Hong Kong tailor shop:

Ladies may have a fit upstairs

In a Bangkok dry cleaner’s:

Drop your trousers here for best results.

Outside a Paris dress shop:

Dresses for street walking

In a Rhodes tailor shop:

Order your summers suit. Because is big rush we will execute customers in strict rotation

In a Zurich hotel:

Because of the impropriety of entertaining guests of the opposite sex in the bedroom, it is suggested that the lobby be used for that purpose.

In an advertisement by a Hong Kong dentist:

Teeth extracted by the latest Methodists

In a Rome laundry:

Ladies, leave your clothes here and spend the afternoon having a good time


In a Czechoslovakian tourist agency:

Take one of our horse-driven city tours. We guarantee no miscarriages

Advertisement for donkey rides in Thailand:

Would you like to ride on your own ass?

In a Swiss mountain inn:

Special today–no ice cream

In a Bangkok temple:

It is forbidden to enter a woman even a foreigner if dressed as a man

In a Tokyo bar:

Special cocktails for the ladies with nuts

In a Copenhagen airline ticket office:

We take your bags and send them in all directions

On the door of a Moscow hotel room:

If this is your first visit to the USSR you are welcome to it

In a Norwegian cocktail lounge:

Ladies are requested not to have children in the bar

In a Budapest zoo:

Please do not feed the animals. If you have any suitable food, give it to the guard on duty.

In the office of a Rome doctor:

Specialist in women and other diseases

In an Acapulco hotel:

The manager has personally passed all the water served here

From a Japanese information booklet about the hotel air conditioner:

Cooles and Heates: If you want just condition of warm in your room, please control yourself.

From the brochure of a car rental firm in Tokyo:

When a passenger of foot heave in sight, tootle the horn. Trumpet him melodiously at first, but if he still obstacles your passage then tootle him with vigor.

An expat’s thoughts on Independence Day
By Georgeann Johnson

This article first appeared in Atención, June 29, 2007.

If you are an American living in Mexico, do you think of yourself as an “expat”? Canadians can be expats, too, but, as this is about American Independence Day, they can feel free to opt out now.

Internationally and here in San Miguel, the term “ex-pats” is often used to refer to an individual, or colony of, foreigners. In San Miguel the term is casually used to refer to Americans and Canadians who have moved here from El Norte. But what exactly does “expat” mean?

For starters, it is short for expatriate—someone who has left the “fatherland.” When one has left the US voluntarily, it also can infer that one has left because of disagreement or disgust with the way the country is being run. Can one also be an “ex-patriot”? I’m sure that many of us have had a situation in the US that has implied as much when someone has asked you, “Why do you live in Mexico anyway?”

I will confess that I don’t like the term “expat” myself. For starters it has that short “a” sound and kind of sounds like “splat.” Or cow pat. It is not an appealing word. Yet another reason is that it comes from the “pat” family that is related to “fatherland.” Patriarchy, patrimony, paternal, patriotism, patriot missiles. (Does the “pat” family sound like the ring of “liberty” to you? Or does it have more authoritarian tones?) And what exactly does patriotism mean, and where, when, and how does it start? Did our budding patriotism start in grade school? I’m sure that you, too, have memories of pledging allegiance to the flag of the United States of America…. Hand over heart, staring earnestly at the flag…“with liberty and justice for all.” Or does it start with 4th of July parades? Fireworks? Civics classes?( Do they still teach Civics? Maybe Civics bit the dust along with Art, Music, Geography.)

Sometimes I wonder how things would be different if we had grown up with the word “matriot” instead of “patriot.” If we had pledged respect for Mother Earth, instead of allegiance to a flag? To whom do we owe respect? It’s clear to me. You can salute a flag; you can hoist it or lower it; you can lay it over a coffin or even burn it. But you can’t eat it.

On July 4th, I will enjoy seeing friends and eating barbecue and potato salad. But we have had more than enough of “rockets red glare, bombs bursting in air” for me to salute the flag. However, should Ray Charles be singing about “purple mountains’ majesty and amber waves of grain,” then I will feel the sweetness of country.

But back to thoughts about Independence Day, ex-pats, and patriotism. I have lived in San Miguel de Allende long enough to know that the US is a whole lot closer to San Miguel than it used to be. Without delving into the pros and cons of that fact, I will say that one of the good things about it is that you can be an expat and still be an active citizen of the country you left behind. You can be an expatriate, but you don’t have to be an ex-patriot. When the term expatriate was first in use, one indeed did leave one’s country behind—in many cases, so far behind that it was too far away to return to.

But that is not the case in San Miguel today. You can vote from here. With Vonage phones, your senator is a phone call away. With the internet, we can easily be engaged in the politics of the US. You can sign electronic petitions, email your congressman, send donations. You can connect and collude with internet allies. You can even go up in person and lend your presence to any number of important gatherings.

I myself will forgo the term “ex-pat.” I live in Mexico because I love Mexico. Punto.

Life is to be engaged and enjoyed, and La Vida here is more of both. Yet, loving life here does not preclude participating in American political life there. The US, and the world, is at a critical juncture, and we are blessed to be able to live here and still be participating citizens up there.

Sicko reviewed
By Cliff DuRand

This article first appeared in Atención, July 27, 2007.

The acidic new Michael Moore documentary that is the talk of the US media is coming to San Miguel. Sicko will be shown at Teatro Santa Ana on Monday, July 30, Thursday, August 2 and again Tuesday, August 7. It will soon be the talk of this town as well.

Moore holds up for all to see the failings of a health care system that is one of the most expensive in the world and yet has 50 million uninsured citizens, eighteen thousand of whom die each year because they are uninsured. However, the film focuses not on them, but on the inadequacies for the insured whose claims are denied or policies canceled so that private insurance companies can achieve higher profits, and on those who are driven to bankruptcy by high medical bills.

Among Sicko’s villains are lobbyists and politicians who pocket millions from HMOs (Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, once an advocate for universal care, is now among the health care industry's biggest money recipients) and pharmaceutical companies that denounce universal care as little better than a “communist plot.” But the main villain is the insurance industry itself, the frequent target of complaints by doctors and patients alike.

This profit-driven health care system is the source of the problems. The solution? Universal single-payer health coverage. The US is the only industrialized country without it, where the idea is dismissed as “socialized medicine.” Elsewhere it is simply seen as social insurance. As a result, France, Britain, Canada and even poor Cuba have better delivery systems than the US. Moore gives France’s socialized medicine particular attention. There doctors lead comfortable lives, patients receive attentive care and employers grant extended health-related leaves— all reasons the World Health Organization ranked France tops in its 2000 global survey of countries providing the best healthcare. The US ranked 37th.

Cuba’s extensive system of free preventative health care for everyone also comes in for praise.One of the more memorable scenes in the film is when Moore takes them to Guantanamo where the accused terrorists detained there receive the best of medical care for free, while Ground Zero volunteers go untreated in their own country. Moore also could have made his point had he taken them to the US Congress, whose members receive free comprehensive health care while denying it to ordinary citizens.

Audiences familiar with Moore’s confrontational style might have expected such a stunt. But here we do not see him confronting HMOs or pharmaceutical executives. Nevertheless, Moore told the Los Angeles Times “there is a big confrontation in this movie. Because I am confronting the American audience with a question: ‘Who are we, and what has happened to our soul?’ To me, that’s maybe more confrontation than going after the CEO of Aetna or the CEO of Pfizer.” 

Moore is confronting us, the American people. We think of ourselves as a kind and gentle people, yet we tolerate a system that sometimes condemns to death those in need of lifesaving care and casts into the streets the sick who cannot pay. “What kind of a people have we become?” he asks. In a moment of sermonizing, Moore tells us we need to realize we are all in the same boat and need to start thinking of “we” instead of just “me.”

With that Moore seeks to galvanize the American public into action for free universal single-payer health care. That was a major issue in the 1992 election when a majority of the public favored such a system. The Clinton administration fumbled the ball on that one, and the system is even more broken 15 years later. Perhaps Moore’s Sicko will put the issue on the political agenda once again in 2008.

Discussions will follow all screenings.

Cliff DuRand is a co-founder of the Center for Global Justice in San Miguel.

On Photography
By Robert de Gast

Always and never

This article first appeared in Atención, August 3, 2007.

Always and never are powerful words. “You never put the cap back on the toothpaste.” “You’re always late.” They can be fighting words. And who needs to fight? What’s “always,” what’s “never?” But once in a while they come in handy, especially, I think, when photography is involved. Here are a few notions:

ALWAYS carry a spare battery. When the thing expires, all you have is a paperweight.

NEVER put your film or camera in the car’s glove compartment: the heat will fry them.

ALWAYS have another roll of film or an additional memory card on hand. Murphy’s Law!

NEVER send a storage card through the US mail. It may be radiated by the authorities.

ALWAYS put the neck strap around your neck or the wrist strap around your wrist.

NEVER load film in bright sunlight. Find some shade or turn your back to the sun.

ALWAYS take more than one picture of a subject: you get to compare!

NEVER clean your lens with part of your T-shirt: the fibers are too rough.

ALWAYS take pictures of people at eye-level: don’t look down on them!

NEVER pay anybody unless they’re willing to work.

ALWAYS buy 36-exposure film: the unit cost is cheaper.

NEVER worry about the weather. Great pictures can be made in rain or fog.

ALWAYS have a concept in mind: Street scenes? People? Close-ups?

NEVER try to combine taking pictures with running errands. Dedicate your time to photography.

ALWAYS give yourself a “gift,” a special time to take pictures, even if only for an hour

NEVER use the digital zoom on your digital camera: a snare and a delusion.

ALWAYS remember not to cover the flash window with your finger on that tiny camera.

NEVER take just one picture of a subject.

ALWAYS use a tripod when taking pictures at night or in low-light situations.

NEVER use a polarizing filter if you’re shooting indoors.

ALWAYS think where the sun may be some hours hence! A big improvement, perhaps….

NEVER leave your camera in a taxi.

ALWAYS ask for matte pictures and borders: your photographs look friendlier.

NEVER shoot flash pictures where forbidden; turn the flash off, an easy thing to do.

ALWAYS take a nap in the middle of the day. The light gets better later.

NEVER try to “sneak” a photograph. Be forthright and up-front.

ALWAYS be patient. It’s the best advice I can give you.

NEVER give up. Go back an hour or a day later. Things will look up. 


ALWAYS carry a Zip-Loc baggie. Be prepared for the inevitable rainstorm.

NEVER carry anything but your camera. Leave your hands free.

ALWAYS use your “fill-flash” when taking pictures of people in bright sunlight.

NEVER take “No” for an answer: cajole or negotiate.


ALWAYS be prepared to accept that you can’t always have what you want.

NEVER put your lens cap on unless you’ve finished shooting for the day. 

ALWAYS dress comfortably, carry little or nothing but your camera.

NEVER shoot flash pictures during a concert. Your flash only reaches about 10-12 feet!

ALWAYS smile, shake hands, explain and all will be well.

NEVER use your telephoto at slow shutter speeds.

ALWAYS get a little closer to your subject.

NEVER say “Smile” and have your victims staring at the camera. Get your subjects doing things.

ALWAYS take time, take care and take pictures.

Robert de Gast leads photography workshops and offers short, private tutorials. He can be reached at 152-7396 or via e-mail: robertdegast@hotmail.com 

A modern revolutionary calendar
By Kennedy Poyser

This article first appeared in Atención, September 14, 2007.

Revolutions are distinct from civil wars, invasions, or squabbles between princes. To some extent, revolutions are all civil wars or internal uprisings, though often to expel an outside occupier. They differ in their popular support from the self-interest of military coups. Their aim is to change a social order, not plunder a neighbor.

The customary causes of revolution are defeat at war, a financial crisis, peasant rebellion, or a disgruntled military. They can produce profound change at great speed, overthrow heavily protected regimes, and replace privileged elites with new power structures.

1861–The French intervention in Mexico was an invasion by the army of Napoleon III of France, supported initially by the British and Spanish.

It followed President Benito Juárez’s suspension of interest payments to foreign countries on July 17, 1861. The French suffered a resounding defeat at Puebla the next year, celebrated today as Cinco de Mayo.

Conservatives tried to institute a monarchy when they helped bring the Austrian archduke Maximilian to Mexico with the military support of France, which wanted to exploit the country’s rich mines. Maximilian “went to the wall” in Querétaro in 1867, depicted in Édouard Manet’s painting The Execution of Emperor Maximilian. Many think the French acted when they did because the US was embroiled in the Civil War and unlikely to assert its Monroe Doctrine through armed intervention. 

1899–The Boer War was the second conflict between the British Empire and the two independent Boer republics of the Orange Free State and the Transvaal. The Boers revolted in December 1880, winning autonomy in this first war for their two republics. However, some Dutch farms were on the gold reefs near Johannesburg, the De Beers brothers gave up crops for diamonds, and a patch of ground east of Pretoria yielded the Cullinan stone. Sudden British interest in what lay beneath those Dutch farms led to the war in 1899. The British Empire absorbed the two republics after a long, hard war. 1910–The Mexican Revolution was over a decade of political, social and military conflict that began with Francisco Madero’s call to arms on November 20, 1910 and ended in1921. The war killed more than 1 million of the 1910 population of 15 million.

Initially, rebels overthrew dictator Porfirio Díaz and installed Madero as president. Madero was deposed in 1913 and the civil war became a brawl, as armed groups fought for control. The constitution of 1917, the official end of the Revolution, helped cool the conflict, but unrest such as the Cristero War persisted through the twenties.

The Revolution should not be confused with the War of Reform of Benito Juárez of the 1850s, or the War of Independence, 1810-1821. The Mexican Revolution was a social and cultural movement which brought the beginnings of change to Mexico. Under Porfirio Díaz, foreign investors gained title to large sections of land which had been considered the property of the people of Mexico. The revolution ended his 35-year rule, curtailed US influence, and detoured Mexico from a capitalist economy. Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa played major roles in the Revolution.

1917–The Russian Revolution usually refers to the October 24 Bolshevik seizure of power, the first Marxist revolution in history. Tsar Nicholas II had abdicated in February 1917, twelve years after the uprising against him in 1905.

Sergei Eisenstein's film The Battleship Potemkin deals with that mutiny. The Bolshevik overthrow of the provisional government was followed by five years of civil war and creation of the Soviet Union in 1922.

1927–The Chinese Civil War of 1927-1950, also known as the Communist Revolution, led to the founding of the People’s Republic of China. Four revolutions preceded it in a 15-year period. The Republican Revolution of 1911-12 established the Republic of China, though a second revolution followed in 1913.

The Constitutional Protection War covered the same period (1917-22) as the Russian civil war. The Northern Expedition of 1926-28 against three powerful warlords in the north of China allowed Chiang Kai-shek to unify the country briefly. After two decades of struggle against Mao Zedong, he retreated to Taiwan in 1949. Mao probably surpassed Hitler and Stalin for mistreatment of his own countrymen during the starvations of the Great Leap Forward in the fifties and the suppressions of the Cultural Revolution in the sixties. 

1936–The Spanish Civil War started after an attempted coup d'état by parts of the army against the government of the Republic.

The civil war devastated the country for three years, ending with an army victory and the dictatorship of Nationalist General Franco. The Soviet Union and Mexico supported the Republicans while Nazi Germany and fascist Italy supported the Nationalists. Germany used the war as a rehearsal for blitzkrieg tactics. The war became notable for atrocities committed on both sides and for the passion it inspired. Hemingway´s For Whom the Bell Tolls and Picasso’s Guernica were two reactions. 

1947–The Indian Independence Movement battled the British Empire for nearly a century, beginning with the Rebellion of 1857. At the end of World War I, the Indian National Congress adopted policies of nonviolent agitation and civil disobedience led by Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru.

World War II saw the twilight of the Raj, culminating in the independence of the subcontinent and the formation of India and Pakistan in August 1947.

India adopted its constitution in 1950 and became a republic. Pakistan proclaimed itself a republic in 1956, but in the 1971 civil war East Pakistan seceded to form the nation of Bangladesh.

Gandhi’s philosophy of nonviolent resistance inspired the American civil rights movement and the African National Congress’s struggle against apartheid in South Africa. 

1956–The Hungarian Revolution was a spontaneous nationwide revolt lasting a little over two weeks. When State Security Police fired on students demonstrating outside the Budapest radio station, disorder and violence erupted throughout the capital. Militias battled police and Soviet troops, former prisoners were released and armed, and a new government disbanded the police, promised to withdraw from the Warsaw Pact and pledged free elections. 

The Soviet Politburo moved to crush the revolution on November 4, killing thousands of civilians in the invasion of Budapest. Mass arrests began a week later after organized resistance ceased. An estimated 200,000 Hungarians fled as refugees. 

1959–The Cuban Revolution led by Fidel Castro’s 26th of July Movement ousted General Batista’s regime on January 1, 1959. It also refers to the ongoing implementation of Marxist social and economic programs by the new government.

1959–The Vietnam War ended April 30, 1975, with a North Vietnamese victory after more than 15 years and 1.5 million people dead on both sides. After the Fall of Saigon, the country was unified under the communist government of the North.

Vietnam was part of China for a thousand years. The French gained control of Indochina (Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam) during colonial wars of 1859–1885. 

During World War II, the US Office of Strategic Services (later the CIA) funded and trained Ho Chi Minh’s guerrillas. They reported Japanese troop movements and rescued downed American pilots.

Franklin D. Roosevelt opposed a revival of European colonialism, but power politics intervened. The US needed France in NATO to deter communism in Europe, so had to indulge its Indochina aspirations.

A long, bloody struggle with heavy French casualties ended with their defeat in 1954 at Dien Bien Phu. Peace accords partitioned the country into north and south, and in 1956, US military advisers began training the South Vietnamese army. President Johnson began the massive build-up of US troops in 1965

1968–Prague Spring was a period of political liberalization in Czechoslovakia starting January 5, 1968 when Alexander Dubček came to power, and running until August 21 of that year when the Soviet Union invaded the country. The term Prague Spring, coined by Western media, referred to the “Springtime of Peoples,” a lyrical title given to the Revolutions of 1848.

1978–The Iranian Revolution transformed Iran from a monarchy under Shah Pahlavi to an Islamic republic under Ayatollah Khomeini. Aimed at freeing Iran and the Third World from colonialism, it has been compared in importance to the French and Bolshevik revolutions. Iran became an Islamic republic April 1, 1979 and the new theocratic constitution approved the following month made Khomeini the Supreme Leader.

The 80-year-old exiled religious scholar surprised the world. For some, the era marked the beginnings of a world Islamic state. For others, Iran has yet to recover from damage to its economy and prestige. 

1989–The Berlin Wall, an iconic symbol of the Cold War, divided East and West Berlin for 28 years. Between 125 and 1,245 people were killed trying to escape, depending on whether you believe officials or victims’ groups

After weeks of civil unrest, propaganda minister Günter Schabowski prematurely announced on November 9, 1989, that East Berliners would be allowed to cross the border, “effective immediately, right now.” Thousands of East Berliners heard Schabowski live on television and flooded the checkpoints. Mauerspechte (wall woodpecker) demolished most of it and military units dismantled the rest by November 1991. Only a few short sections and watchtowers were left standing as memorials. 

On Christmas Day, 1989, Leonard Bernstein gave a concert in Berlin celebrating the end of the Wall. Roger Waters performed the Pink Floyd album The Wall in Potsdamer Platz on July 21, 1990.

The fall of the Wall was the first step toward German reunification, which formally concluded on October 3, 1990.

Kennedy Poyser, a notorious revolutionary dilettante, compiled the basic data for this article from Wikipedia, en.wikipedia.org, the beloved online source of information about everything.

Capital Comments
By Jim Johnston

Mexico City—the post-apocalyptic city

Depending on who’s counting, Mexico City ranks as the biggest urban conglomerate on the planet—more than 20 million people living in the same place at the same time, an inconceivable notion until the last century.

Depending on your point of view, it’s either your worst claustrophobic nightmare, or the supreme example of human beings attempting to live in harmonious union.

All this life occurs on land that was once water, in a zone susceptible to devastating earthquakes, run by a government noted for corruption and incompetence, and challenged by an economy of extreme haves and have-nots.

The city’s very existence is utterly improbable. Even the founding of the city—the site was chosen based on an ancient Aztec prophecy—adds to its other-worldliness, and the personal appearance of the Virgin of Guadalupe in 1531 contributes a dash of the miraculous. An element of the surprising, even the surreal, is part of daily life here.

Renowned Mexican author Carlos Monsiváis wrote in Mexican Postcards (1997), “Mexico City is the place where the unlivable has its rewards, the first of which has been to endow survival with a new status. For many, Mexico City’s major charm is precisely its ‘apocalyptic’ condition.”

In previous columns, I’ve written about the pleasures of life in Mexico City—the markets, the parks, the museums and restaurants, the relaxed and polite way of its people. But, as an urban dweller for most of my adult life, I’ve learned to appreciate the contrasting elements of the bizarre, the pathetic, the depressing and the confounding which heighten all the pleasurable sensations. Polar opposites are the norm here, keeping one’s nerve endings charged.

Mexico City has been used as a backdrop for several recent Hollywood movies (Missing, Total Recall and Man on Fire come to mind), and its extreme visual contrasts, combined with its reputation as a place where laws are invented on the spot, usually mean that the movie is set in some netherworld, beyond the reach of polite society, a no-man’s-land that suggests the past and the future more readily than the present.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m making my own movie or writing a novel that takes place in Mexico City, so I’m always scouting for interesting locations. One film would be a musical full of lovers, mariachis and happy endings in leafy green parks and elegant colonial palaces. The other is a science fiction story set in the not-too-distant future, maybe tomorrow. I’m not yet sure of the outcome of the story, but I will share with you some of the bizarre locations and incongruous happenings I have found that set the scene. You can see it all the next time you are in town—it’s my post-apocalyptic tour of Mexico City.

The entrance to the Metro Insurgentes recalls the classic science fiction movie Blade Runner, especially when seen after dark (but before 10pm when the stores close). A ring of constant traffic and gigantic illuminated billboards surrounds the round, sunken plaza—street life is a vibrant mixture of color and sleaze. The few houses from the early twentieth century still standing at the southwest corner of Insurgentes, overburdened with accretions of advertising, look as though they are being eaten alive by the city.

On May 6 this year, performance artist Spencer Tunick convinced 17,000 people to pose naked in the zócalo, Mexico City’s main square (topping his previous record in Spain by more than 10,000 people). But public nudity has become almost commonplace here—none of the Mexicans I saw were surprised, as I was, the first time I noticed hundreds of demonstrators at the corner of Reforma and Insurgentes take off their clothes and wave as traffic passed by They were farmers from Veracruz protesting against their governor. While there is no regular schedule, protesters have been showing up naked on this street corner for several years now.

With luck, you may find a few of my favorite sci-fi extras working at a nearby street corner. Providing entertainment for motorists waiting at traffic lights is a time-honored profession here. Run-of-the-mill workers act as clowns, jugglers, flowers vendors, or windshield cleaners. But there are two “jobs” I have seen at intersections that I’ve never noticed elsewhere. Fire-eaters, who place kerosene-ignited balls of cloth into their mouths, and skinny young boys who spread out towels covered with broken glass and then lie down on them, are disturbing reminders of how difficult life can be in the city and the bizarre forms of creativity that it inspires.

In Colonia Roma is a reminder of Thursday, September 19, 1985, a day that felt like the end of the world for many city residents. The most devastating earthquake in the history of the Americas killed at least 9,000 people, injured 30,000 and left 100,000 homeless. It also destroyed 412 buildings and seriously damaged another 3,000, according to official government statistics. On a pleasant tree-lined street (across from Chihuahua 196) amongst apartment buildings, stores and a school is a collapsed ruin of a building—no walls, just slabs of concrete and steel rods stacked and tilted like a deck of cards carelessly tossed on the floor. A family has been living there for years, their pots and pans (and Mexican flag) visible to passersby, looking like a scene from a post-nuclear documentary.

Just around the corner (at Insurgentes and Guanajuato) is Oskar’s Uniform store, which has the strangest mannequins I’ve ever seen. Looking like extras from George Romero’s 

Night of the Living Dead, these figures could be survivors of the earthquake, whose expressions have been frozen in time.

The Tianguis del Chopo is a counterculture street fair, a weekly meeting place for goths, punks, rastas, grunge, hip-hoppers and members of similar tribes looking for the latest in music, clothing, tattoos and body piercings. Hundreds of vendors attract thousands of shoppers and lookers, creating a fearsome scene of extreme fashions and hairstyles (perfect spot for casting movie extras), although the atmosphere, being Mexico, is laid back and friendly. Tianguis del Chopo is every Saturday from 10am to 4pm on Calle Aldama in Colonia Guerrero…just follow anybody dressed all in black.

Not all of my chosen locations are diabolical. Angels might have their birthday parties at the Pasteleria Ideal (16 de Septiembre 14 in the Centro Histórico). The showroom on the second floor offers the unique experience of being surrounded by more sugar, frosting and cakes than anyplace I have been. I’m planning the chase scene here.

Another site of pleasurable excess is Plaza Garibaldi on any Saturday night. Home base for dozens of mariachis and other Mexican music groups, families and lovers go here to listen to (and sing along with) their favorite old songs. Be prepared for a unique musical experience, as all the groups play simultaneously, creating the perfect ready-made soundtrack to my film.

I used to think that the magic realist or surrealist artists and writers of Mexico had some special creative gene that enabled their imaginations to soar more freely than most. Now that I live here, I realize that it’s just the result of careful observation of daily life, attending the theater of the street. Mexico City provides one of the greatest shows on earth, and admission is free.

Jim Johnston, a 10-year resident of San Miguel, now lives in Mexico City. He is the author of Mexico City: An Opinionated Guide for the Curious Traveler, available in San Miguel at El Tecolote bookstore and Border Crossings, and on Amazon.com.

Story of a nomination
By Francisco Vidargas

This article first appeared in Atención, September 28, 2007.

In today’s San Miguel de Allende there are, as in several other Mexican towns, various beautiful religious and civic buildings full of architectural contrasts. 

The cultural heritage of our stately colonial village has been preserved in great part due to the nature and love of its inhabitants, both Mexicans and foreigners. 


San Miguel’s architecture is witness to styles and emotions which found their maximum expression in buildings such as San Francisco Church and the Oratorio of San Felipe Neri, as well as in its singular Parroquia and the Convent of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, or Las Monjas as it is known. Each street, step by step, with its niches, stone arches, iron gates, lovely yards, halls and fountains, deeply touches us and lets us view—as Francisco de la Maza, the first historian of samiguelense art, wrote—one of the most surprising landscapes of the human effort. 

Many people have been concerned about preserving and protecting our city from destruction. Among the many groups that have worked in the last century and this are Sociedad de Amigos de San Miguel (Society of Friends of San Miguel), the Comité Organizador para la Conservación de San Miguel (Organizing Committee for San Miguel Preservation), and the always tenacious Comisión Local para la Preservación del Patrimonio Cultural (Local Commission for Cultural Heritage Preservation). 

Also, some responsible government administrations have been conscious of the historical and artistic value of the city and have worked to preserve it through legislation, chiefly the Law of Protection and Preservation of the City, which recognized San Miguel as a Typical Town in 1939; the Cooperation for Material Improvements in 1953; and the Decree of Historical Monuments Area in 1982. 

The rescue and preservation of the cultural heritage of San Miguel de Allende has been a subject of public interest on several occasions and has been the goal of several public and private institutions, among them the Society for the Defense of the Artistic Treasures of Mexico and the National Institute of Anthropology and History (INAH) and individuals such as Carmen Masip, Rafael Solana, Jorge Alberto Manrique, Maruja González, Luis Weckmann, Gustavo Curiel, Leda Arias de la Canal, Federico Siller, Marthe Fernández and Luis Felipe Nieto. 

I invited the participation of members of the local commission at two national meetings, the First Colloquy on the Inclusion of Modern Architecture in Historic Downtowns (Conaculta/Autonomous University of Aguascalientes, 1991) and the Third Colloquy: The Civil Society Before the Cultural Heritage (UNAM, 1994), both with published proceedings. 

The rescue and preservation of the world’s cultural heritage requires not only great economic and human effort on the part of the involved authorities, but also the active participation of society. The authorities may put forth great effort, but the work becomes difficult because of several problems: costs, lack of experts, lack of political involvement, etc. But there is no doubt that without the presence of the appropriate authorities (responsible by law for taking care of the heritage) the destruction will be greater. 

Over the years, initiatives have been taken to nominate San Miguel for the World Heritage list. While Eleazar Romero worked on a local proposal, we promoted the city’s nomination among the Mexican Committee of ICOMOS (International Council of Monuments and Sites). 

But a very important component was missing: the political will of the local government. A change came just four years ago, thanks to the support of the current senator Luis Alberto Villarreal. From that moment, with the assistance of Francisco Javier López Morales from the World Heritage Department of INAH (in charge of coordinating the Mexican proposals), a work group was formed under the direction of Christopher Finkelstein and Edgar Urbán, with the collaboration of Guadalupe Horta, Don Patterson, Graciela Cruz, Luis Felipe Nieto, Jorge F. Hernández and Francisco Vidargas. 

This group devoted itself to getting San Miguel, along with the Shrine of Jesus Nazarenus in Atotonilco, on the list of recommended Mexican sites, and afterwards on developing the technical file, which was delivered by local authorities to the World Heritage Committee in Paris in February 2007. Having kept close communication with the experts in charge of the evaluation of proposals required by UNESCO, we can say that the San Miguel document that was delivered was one of the most complete that have been submitted from Mexico in recent years.

What comes now? After the inspection by ICOMOS experts (perhaps the most important and difficult part of the process, since acceptance of the site for inclusion on the list depends on it), we will wait for the upcoming meetings of the World Heritage Committee (one in January in Paris, and the decisive meeting in June or July in Québec) to learn whether San Miguel and Atotonilco have been accepted. 

The World Heritage list currently includes more than 830 sites that constitute exceptional universal value. There are, currently, 26 Mexican sites, both cultural and natural, and Mexico has more World Heritage sites than any other Latin American country. 

With the inclusion of San Miguel and Atotonilco, our city could gain access, through the World Heritage Convention, to the financial and technical assistance that UNESCO offers to its member sites. Each year, an average of 4 million dollars are provided to support the identification, preservation and promotion of the registered sites, channeled through five areas: assistance in preparing preservation proposals and management plans; training of the sites’ staff; technical cooperation for the development and execution of preservation plans and maintenance; support for educational and cultural promotion; and assistance in rescue following natural disasters. 

With the nomination, San Miguel will attract more cultural tourism, which will bring to the city a larger number of international visitors, and with them jobs and money, as happened in the case of Antigua, Guatemala, one of the first cities in Latin America to be named a World Heritage site. All this is within the framework of sustainable tourism, which combines the principles of conservation of the cultural and natural heritage and the development of tourist and business areas. 

If UNESCO decides to include San Miguel and Atotonilco, it will be recognizing not only isolated monuments but all the historical, artistic, natural and cultural aspects of our city, which is unique in Mexico. The technical file was developed with this in mind. 

The government, as well as the citizenry, will have more responsibility since they will have to help preserve the San Miguel’s cultural and natural heritage. But I think that recent history shows that sanmiguelenses have already gone a long way toward doing exactly that. 

Francisco Vidargas, ex-director of Bellas Artes San Miguel, is a consultant on cultural affairs.

Cuban torcedora tours Mexico
By Kennedy Poyser

This article first appeared in Atención, October 26, 2007.

The Havana Cigar Company at Hernández Macías 92 offers a little civil disobedience to spice up your enjoyment of the world’s best cigars. Just buy and light up a Cohiba or Montecristo from Cuba and you’ll have the delicious pleasure of flaunting federal law with 100-percent certainty of getting away with it. 

Recently the shop hosted an expert torcedora (cigar roller) from Havana, Judith Rivero Delgado de Oramas. She looks and acts nothing at all like Che Guevara, but still added a personal touch to the allure of Cuban cigars. She can roll several thousand dollars worth of cigars in a single day. She’s been working nine years, beginning at age 18, and is now an expert Category 9—about as good as it’s possible to be. Her tour has taken her to the better cigar shops in Mexico City, Puebla, Hermosillo and now San Miguel to promote the Partagas factory in Havana. 

Partagas makes the Cohiba Siglo VI, Double Corona, Churchill Romeo y Julieta and Robusto Serie D #4, among many others. The first three are expensive big cigars (7–8 inches in length), while the Robusto at 4–5 inches is increasingly popular because you don’t need to block out a chunk of time to smoke it.

Judith remembers Steven Spielberg’s visit to Partagas, but has never seen Fidel Castro at the factory—she knows him only from television.

El Commandante made Cohibas famous because for a time they were made only for him and the process was a state secret. The CIA, after all, is rumored to have attempted poisoning his cigars, so Castro would naturally want a secure source. Greater production of three Cohiba types began in 1968, though only Castro and his friends had them; visiting heads of state might be given a box or two. Castro’s favorite was the Cohiba Lancero. Production only for government and diplomatic purposes lasted 14 years, until commercial quantities became available to the public in 1982.

Legends abound about Cuban cigars and President John F. Kennedy, who often partied in Cuba prior to the 1959 revolution. One persistent legend is that, on the night before he signed the embargo on February 7, 1962, the President sent Pierre Salinger out to buy Havana cigars before they became illegal. The resourceful Salinger returned with 1,200 Petit Upmanns. These may have been the cigars Kennedy smoked in the Oval Office, as recounted by photojournalist S.H. Linden in Cigar Aficionado, June 2007.

Cohiba takes its name from what natives called the bundles of burning leaves they offered to sailors during Columbus’s stopover in Cuba on his first voyage. That’s why you see the tag line “Unicos desde 1492” on ads for Cohiba. The Spanish enjoyed these early proto-cigars and were able to maintain a monopoly on Cuban cigar production for centuries.

The principle remains unchanged (a roll of tobacco leaves), but today’s standards are stringent. Expert rollers flawlessly combine up to five types of tobacco in a tube that draws easily, with no hotspots, through the entire two hours it might take to smoke a large Double Corona. Prescribed length is precise and diameter hardly varies the thickness of a tobacco leaf. A diameter gauge, in fact, is one way to test for fake Cuban cigars. Most won’t even pass the label test, though. Real Cohibas have gold-embossed labels—the fake I saw had a color Xerox label with punctuation and design errors. It was offered at 40 pesos, about one-tenth the cost of the real thing.

Cuban cigars are luxury items and cost 65 to 650 pesos, whether you buy them in Havana, London or San Miguel. Spain is one exception—low tobacco taxes mean savings of up to 70 percent on Cuban cigars.

The General Cigar Company and Altadis S.A. distribute most cigars worldwide. Altadis is a Spanish corporation headquartered in Madrid, formed in the late nineties by merging the Spanish and French tobacco monopolies. In 2000, they bought half of Habanos S.A., the marketing organization for the Cuban government. With their acquisition of US Consolidated Cigar, Altadis became a shining example of sneakiness in international commerce. Despite the embargo, millions of Cuban cigars reach world markets under the auspices of a company with a large US division. Through licensing arrangements with the former factory owners who fled Castro, AltadisUSA even sells most Cuban brands in the US, though the cigars are rolled elsewhere from tobacco grown in Nicaragua, Honduras and the Dominican Republic. 

These three countries, and Cuba, account for most of the premium cigars among the 2,500 brands currently available. Castro nationalized the tobacco industry in 1962, so growers and factory owners with suspect politics moved their operations to nearby countries. Charlie Toraño, now a Nicaraguan grower, even released the “Exodus 1959,” a cigar commemorating the diaspora.

Litto Gomez capitalized on the nineties’ cigar boom to found a company headquartered in Miami, with farms and factory in the Dominican Republic, where wages are low and the climate is good for cigar tobacco. His best-known brand is La Flor Dominicana.

Many cigars are blends from tobaccos grown in unlikely places. For the capa (outer wrapper), commercial buyers may travel to Ecuador, Cameroon in Africa, or even Connecticut, whose wrapper leaves grown under gauzy shades are much favored for color and uniformity. The capote (binder) might come from Nicaragua, while the three-part tripa, or center filler, could be an eclectic mix of velado for strength, seco for draw and ligero for aroma. Buyers often want huge quantities to assure continuity of a brand, because the short-sighted buyer might return the following year to find the tobacco acreage devastated by a hurricane.

Pundits expect a year of turmoil if the embargo is lifted. Everyone will want to try the formerly forbidden, but high costs of the Cuban imports mean most smokers will settle back with old favorites. Cuban Americans living in Miami might be the greatest roadblock to easing restrictions. Their block voting can swing Florida elections, and neither national party can afford to lose the state’s electoral votes. In effect, a tiny minority has fixed American foreign policy for decades.

From Cuba to San Miguel: Francisco Mela to headline the Jazz and Blues Festival
By Glenda Robinson

This article first appeared in Atención, November 9, 2007.

For most of the twentieth century, Cuban musicians relocating to the US have played a key role in revitalizing North American jazz and even popular culture. From Desi Arnaz to Paquito D’Rivera, they have injected novel polyrhythms and a propulsive passion into the musical zeitgeist.

The latest of these influential transplants, Francisco Mela, will take the stage of Teatro Ángela Peralta during the upcoming XIII International Festival de Jazz y Blues in San Miguel, November 21 to 25. 

Mela, as he likes to be called, has been tearing up the turf in New York of late, playing with a who’s who of jazz heavyweights like Joe Lovano, Kenny Barron, John Scofield, John Patitucci and Chucho Valdez. Fortunately for us in San Miguel, he is also very good friends with fellow Cuban Gabriel Hernandez, the virtuosic keyboardist who lives here part-time and who, if you’re lucky, you can catch at Tio Lucas from time to time. 

Mela was born in 1968 in Bayamo, Cuba, a historic town nestled in the Sierra Maestra mountain range. His father, artistic director of Bayamo’s cultural programs, tried to get him interested in the guitar, but Mela wanted to paint, and spent three years in the local Escuela de Artes Plastica. When he was 15, he took off one day to Havana, not realizing that he was missing his final exams. Mela was expelled…and the rest, as they say, is historia. He switched to studying classical and Afro-Cuban percussion in the town’s music academy, and in short order he was an instructor at Bayamo’s Rafael Cabrera Conservatory of Music. 

Mela’s path to the US took him from Bayamo to Havana and then to Cancún on a gig with Gabriel. There, a chance encounter with legendary pianist Danilo Perez changed his life. “Danilo encouraged me to move to Boston. He said, if you come to Boston, you’ll play with people who are even better than me.”


He made the leap in 1997, and was soon gigging with professors from the Berklee College of Music. One day he got the call to teach at the prestigious institution. Today he balances a hectic performance schedule with his class in Afro-Cuban and Brazilian percussion, and private lessons with two dozen students. 

“I have so much knowledge to share from Cuba,” he says. “A lot of my students play rock and funk and hip-hop, and I try to combine what they want with what I have. Some of them say they want to go to Cuba to study…and now they don’t have to go because I’m here, and I can give it to them. It’s an honor to share my country with my students.”

Mela’s music has been characterized as “very current, very New York.” “I am from Cuba, yes,” he said recently. “But my music is not salsa.”

Canadian woodwind player Jane Burnett, who recently asked Mela to anchor the rhythm section on her Grammy-nominated Cuban Odyssey, says of his music, “It is full of life, soul and adventure. He has combined all of the ingredients that I love so much—his native Cuba, his philosophies and his unique vision. His music is powered by warmth, spirit and great playing.” 

Mela’s new album is called Melao, the Spanish word for sugar cane syrup that is also used to describe a propitious mixture of ingredients. A hybrid of all of Mela’s influences to date—Cuba, Africa and New York—it was hailed as the “best debut album of the year” by the magazine All About Jazz. Guest player Joe Lovano says of the recording sessions that produced the album, “The free-flowing atmosphere made us all explore his music with a creative, intimate approach. I’m glad we all live together in the same world of music.” 

We will soon be glad that we are part of that world, too. The Francisco Mela Trio, which includes his “brother” keyboardist Gabriel Hernandez, plays November 22 at 7pm. The Fine Wine Trio with Gene Perla will open the show. Tickets are on sale now at the Peralta box office. 

For more information about this year’s Jazz and Blues Festival, go to www.sanmigueljazz.com. The Festival is still looking for financial support. To learn more about the benefits of sponsorship, please contact director Antonio Lozoya at sanmigueljazz@yahoo.com  or Doug Robinson at jazzooo@aol.com. 

The San Miguel UNAM Project
By Ali Zerriffi

This article first appeared in Atención, November 9, 2007.

What was at first a kind of a mirage was made official in October when Mayor Jesus Correa, Doctor Roberto Ivan Escalante of the UNAM and yours truly signed a formal letter of intention to provide continuing education to the people of San Miguel.

It is now a real project with a timeline and a firm commitment from the municipal government, the university and the Biblioteca Pública. The administration of Mayor Correa has promoted, as part of its overall development plan, the growth of university level education in San Miguel. A public university, housed at Pipila High School, is now offering courses in the field of tourism and an agreement was signed with the International College for Experimental Learning to build a campus in our municipality. The ICEL has created and is promoting an alternative educational program by offering programs in fields that are very much in demand in the job market and by making a diploma in a technical field a viable and practical option.

The idea of bringing long distance and continuing education to San Miguel was supported by Mayor Correa and Lic. Francisco Peyret, Director of the Department of Economic Development, Tourism and International Relations, who spearheaded the project to find a local institution to partner with the municipal government and the UNAM.

The Biblioteca Pública has been chosen to house and administer the program and its staff and board are proud to be part of this exciting new venture, a venture that already has the enthusiastic support of all the community.

Phase One has already been launched in the sense that plans are being drawn to install computer servers and high speed internet connections so that the Research Center can start as soon as possible. The Biblioteca Pública, thanks to the help of the municipality and the government of Mayor Jesus Correa, is studying ways of maximizing the use of its available space and provide additional space for classes, seminars and workshops.

UNAM will provide all the technical support plus, of course, the curriculum of both the Faculty of Economics and the Faculty of Philosophy. Other subjects will be available on demand from all the departments of the university in the form of workshops or seminars tailored to specific needs.

The target date for the beginning of operations is the end of February and we all welcome suggestions for programs that may appeal to members of the public and private sector as well as members of the local organizations.

We would also like to invite members of the community whose past or present expertise can be of some value to our community to step forward and participate in this educational project as professors, workshop leaders or in any other form that could help develop continuous education and training in San Miguel and the Bajío region.

Motorsports
By Art Bone

Following La Carrera Panamericana

This article first appeared in Atención, November 16, 2007.

My electric vest and heated gloves were in the box in the back of an upstairs closet. My heated seat was unplugged. The last time I needed any of that stuff was on the Dempster Highway, heading into Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. I live in Mexico now; I never expected to need any of it this time of year.

Well, surprise, surprise! The morning I was to leave for Oaxaca the temperature was in the low forties and it was cold! After an hour of finding all my equipment, getting it on, and getting everything attached to the bike, I crawled on, plugged in my heaters and headed towards Querétaro looking like the Michelin Man, but a warm Michelin Man.

I had been invited (and when I say “invited” I mean I whined until someone said, “Go ahead and do what you want”) to follow La Carrera Panamericana or as it’s more popularly known, the Mexican Road Race, from its start in Oaxaca to Querétaro.

I decided to avoid Mexico City and take a route through Pachuca, Puebla, Tehuacán and into Oaxaca, part of the route of the race. I didn’t realize how slow the going would be with all the topes, trucks and bad signage. The first day ended in a little town south of Puebla where I checked into the Real de Cortez hotel, a brand new place that appeared to be run by the desk clerk. There was no one else there. As well as no staff, they had no heat and no extra blankets, no hot water, no bedside lamps (making reading impossible) and no other customers. The clerk allowed me to park my bike just outside my window and after damaging my eyesight for an hour trying to read The Deptford Trilogy I went to sleep wearing a sweatshirt, Levis and thick socks.

The next day I was on the road just before dawn after a desayuno of huevos mexicana, tortillas and frijoles, cooked by the desk clerk, of course. The first day of a road trip is always awkward for me. I always feel like I’m one tick behind the bike. I tend to snatch at the controls, brake too little or too much, and just feel rough. The second day things start to smooth out and by the time I approached the cuota outside Tehaucán the bike felt like an old pair of gloves. I was into the ride.

I decided to take the cuota instead of fighting trucks and topes all day and it was the best choice by far. After paying the toll the road starts a long climb of at least 30 kilometers with no straightaways, just long sweeping turns with no guardrails alongside a deep canyon. There are many trucks struggling up the grade in low gear but the road is plenty wide for passing and the ride is exhilarating as you climb to over 2,400 meters. From there it’s a beautiful ride through high desert with little villages off in the distance all the way to Oaxaca.

I have speakers in my helmet and a new MP3 player that I tried to listen to on this straight stretch but I soon turned it off. Even Norah Jones can’t compete with the song of the highway. As Lord Buckley said, “Nothing beats a fine set of wheels at an easy pace.”

When I arrived in Oaxaca in the early afternoon, I had no idea where to find race headquarters, but as soon as I saw a ’53 Studebaker with La Carrera decals I was home free. I just followed him out to Huitzo where qualifying was already in progress. The first person I saw was my friend Mats, who told me all three of his cars had already made their 11-kilometer run. I watched as they started the last 20 cars at 30-second intervals, then, using the same technique I used to get to the start, I followed another ‘53 Studebaker back to the baseball field where the racers were gathered to work on the cars and sign autographs for the fans.

This was more like it! Loud music, pretty girls wearing La Carrera ribbons and skimpy outfits and food and beer tents. Just what the physician prescribed for a weary biker. I chatted with Mats a few minutes while the mechanics fell on his three cars, jacking them up, pulling bodywork off and screwing and unscrewing parts. As night fell, generators were started, floodlights came on, and, if anything, the pace intensified. The mechanics are the unsung heroes of racing, putting right by night the damage the drivers do during the day, while the drivers sign autographs and get their pictures taken with the aforementioned pretty girls. It’s a glamorous life!

I stood and watched a few minutes with that feeling of deep satisfaction I get when difficult, important work is getting done and I’m not doing any of it. I finally wandered over to the food tent and had a steak taco made with a tortilla the size of a ’56 Olds hubcap. That and two beers was dinner. It was time for bed.

The next morning, instead of going to the beginning of the speed stage, I decided to go to the end and watch the racers as they completed their run. As I was going north on the cuota, I saw many of the race cars heading south and, by the time I got to the Pemex where the course rejoins the cuota, the first speed stage of the race was over and most of the cars were on their way back to Huitzo for the next stage. I thought I would take a short run down the course to see what it was like. It wasn’t long before I was captivated by the road and scenery and just kept riding until I was back in Huitzo, 80 kilometers down the road. I enjoyed it so much I decided to turn around and go back the way I had come. A road always looks different in the opposite direction.

It’s hard to describe to people who don’t ride the joy of riding a fast motorcycle on challenging roads in beautiful weather. Better writers than I have tried and one of the best I’ve read is Milan Kundera in his novel, Slowness (La Lenteur, 1995):

“…the man hunched over his motorcycle can focus only on the present instant of his flight; he is caught in a fragment of time cut off from both the past and the future; he is wrenched from the continuity of time; he is outside time; in other words, he is in a state of ecstasy; in that state he is unaware of his age, his wife, his children, his worries, and so he has no fear, because the source of his fear is in the future, and a person freed of the future has nothing to fear.”

Racing car drivers experience the same ecstasy and on the trip down I encountered several competitors who had let their bravery overwhelm their prudence. The first was a beautiful old BMW from the fifties I had admired in the Jardín the Sunday before. It was being towed out of a ditch and every body panel on it seemed bent. It was clearly not going to continue.

The second was a Swedish team whose Ford Falcon had plunged down a hillside and had been towed out. The car wasn’t damaged and, as I arrived on the scene, the driver and navigator were “discussing” the tow truck driver’s fee of 3000 pesos. I pointed out that they were at least 80 kilometers from another tow truck, so perhaps the best thing was to pay the man and get on with the race, which they did.

When I arrived back at the Pemex on the cuota I spoke to two competitors in Jaguar number 230 who were having two different problems. The first problem was that the car was tuned for high speed at low altitude and they were at 2,400 meters on road that only allowed about 145 kph. The car would do 130 in first gear. There was nothing I could do for them on that problem but I could help on the second one. They had no pesos to pay the tolls on the c