Laura Vidal
Stories
July 15th, 2008
Venezuela: The Tradition of the Dancing Devils of Yare
· 02:10 · Americas
Photo by JCox and used under a Creative Commons license.
The Dancing Devils of Yare, a pagan-Christian celebration in Venezuela that takes place nine Thursdays after Holy Thursday, and is a very typical artistic and cultural expression of the region. To understand better what it is all about, in this Wikipedia article Dancing Devils of Yare, there are good explanations and links to journalistic works from some newspapers:
The Dancing Devils of Yare (Diablos Danzantes del Yare) is the name of a religious festivity celebrated in San Francisco de Yare, Miranda state, Venezuela, at the Corpus Christi day. The Sociedades del Santísimo (Societies of the Holiest) are in charge of the celebration. Its origins are traced back to the 18th century, being the oldest brotherhood of the American continent.
Every Corpus Christi (nine Thursdays after Holy Thursday), a ritual dance is performed by the so called “Dancing Devils”, who wear colorful garments (commonly all red), layers of stripped fabric, masks of grotesque appearance and also accessories like crosses, scapulars, rosaries and other sorts of amulets.
The fraternity of the devils is divided in hierarchical order, represented in their masks.
There are other expressions of this particular festivity named according to the location, such as the Devils of Naiguatá and the Devils of Chuao.
The blog Talento Venezolano [es] provides some additional background on the tradition :
Los “Diablos Danzantes de Yare” es, sin duda, un orgullo mirandino para toda Venezuela(…) Su origen nos viene desde la colonia y su verdadero nacimiento gira en torno a decenas de versiones. Lo importante es que los “diablos” hacen su devoción o promesa por razones de salud o por tradición. Se puede danzar por un tiempo determinado o por vida, una vez entrado en el “clan” el incumplimiento acarrea severas sanciones.
The dancing devils of Yare are, without a doubt, a source of pride from Miranda for all of Venezuela (…) Their origin comes from the times of the Spanish colonization and their true beginning is based on dozens of theories. The most important is that the “devils” make their devotion or promises for their health, or for tradition. It is possible to dance for a while or for a lifetime; once you are inside the clan, if you don’t comply, there could be severe sanctions.
Las Cosas de Rosa [es] adds details of the costumes worn by the dancers:
La fraternidad de Diablos de este pequeño pueblo colonial es la más vieja del continente americano y tal vez la más organizada. Camisa, pantalón y medias rojas, máscara y alpargatas, es el vestuario de Diablo. Llevan una cruz de palma bendita, el rosario y la medalla del Santísimo, que por ser difícil de conseguir se sustituye por otra medalla de una imagen religiosa cristiana. Llevan en una mano una maraca en forma de diablo y en la otra un látigo.
The fraternity of the devils in this small colonial town is the oldest on the American continent and maybe, the most organized. The Devils' wardrobe are red shirts, pants and socks, and sandals. They also use a blessed cross in their hand, a rosary and the medal of the Holy Spirit, as it is difficult to substitute another medal of a religious Christian image. They also carry a maraca in the shape of a devil in one hand and a whip in the other hand.
You can also see a video [es] that provides images of the tradition, and Hector Rattia provides testimonies through his pictures on his Flickr account. There is also an excellent photo essay site at Behind the Mask.
2 comments · »»July 5th, 2008
Venezuela: Bloggers Pay Tribute to Eugenio Montejo
· 05:09 · Americas
Photo by Rußen and used under a Creative Commons license.
Venezuelans say goodbye to another of their poets in times when they need them the most. On June 6th, enthusiasts of literature and arts in Venezuela received the sad news of the death of one of the most important and influential writers in the last years: Eugenio Montejo.
Montejo's poetry is well recognized for its rich texture. He was also published in numerous books in Spanish and participated in numerous editorial works devoted to Venezuelan literature. He won the national prize of literature and the international prize Octavio Paz. He has been seen as the most important poet of the last years. Numerous groups, pages, blogs and even Facebook groups [es] have been dedicated to him and his poetry. The day after his death the discussion board was filled with comments about the importance of his poetry and how he will be eternally remembered.
Bloggers share opinions and feelings while they remember and thank all the beautiful words which so many of them identified themselves with.
Another interesting fact is that through González Iñárritu’s film, 21 Grams, Montejo gained more attention when Sean Penn's character quoted a line from one of his poems…
“The earth turned to bring us closer. It turned on itself and in us, until it finally brought us together in this dream.”
Jorge, in his blog Letralia [es] wrote:
Anoche se fue Eugenio Montejo, dejándonos con esto encendido, no sin antes
despedirse de su siglo vertical y lleno de teorías. En 2002 había revelado las bases de su credo: La poesía es la última religión que nos queda. Si hay un juicio final, será ante ella.
Last night, Eugenio Montejo [es] left us, leaving us with all this still on, not without saying goodbye to his vertical theory filled with theories. In 2002 he had revealed the basis of his creed [es]: poetry is the last religion we have. If there is to be a final judgment, it will be before it.
From Peru, Moleskine Literario [es] writes:
Al parecer, los poetas nunca mueren solos. Unas semanas después de la muerte de nuestro Alejandro Romualdo Valle, el duelo le toca ahora a Venezuela. A los 70 años murió Eugenio Montejo, considerado el mayor poeta de ese país.
It seems that poets never die alone. A few weeks after the death of our Alejandro Romualdo Valle, it is now time for Venezuela to mourn. Eugenio Montejo died at 70. He was considered the greatest poet of that country.
Juliana Boersner of Papel en Blanco [es], says:
¿Cómo escribir desde la tristeza? ¿Cómo teclear a través de las lágrimas de impotencia por ver apagarse tan raudamente una de las mejores voces de la poesía del mundo hispano, aún con tanto por ofrecernos?
How do you describe the sadness? How is it possible to type through tears of helplessness when one of the best voices in Hispanic poetry goes away so suddenly with still so much to offer?
Rostro de Viento's [es] José Urriola says:
Al poeta Eugenio Montejo lo habré visto si acaso tres veces en la vida. La primera fue de niño en los pasillos del Edificio de Estudios Generales de la Universidad Simón Bolívar. En esa oportunidad yo iba de la mano de mi padre que se detuvo a saludar a un hombre de lentes de pasta, mostacho negro y saco beige a cuadros. Papá me dijo: “Hijo, conozca a uno de los grandes poetas de este país, Eugenio Montejo”. A lo que el bigotón respondió con un acento que me pareció andino: “Amigo, no le crea a su padre. Yo no soy poeta, soy bombero”.
Anoche murió Eugenio Montejo. Se murió uno de los nuestros, uno de los grandes, uno de los buenos. Se murió alguien que a ningún venezolano debería serle indiferente.
I saw poet Eugenio Montejo three times in my life or so. First time I was a kid standing at the halls of Simón Bolivar University. In that opportunity I was holding my father’s hand who stopped to greet a man with thick glasses, black mustache and a beige coat with squares. My dad told me “son, meet one of the greatest poets of this country, Eugenio Montejo”. To that, the man with the mustache answered with an accent that sounded from the Andes: “my friend, don’t believe what your father says. I’m not a poet, I’m a fireman”.
Eugenio Montejo died last night. One of our own died, one of the greats, one of the good ones.Someone to whom no Venezuelan should be indifferent has died.
Argonauticas [es] adds:
Eugenio Montejo escribió algunos de los poemas más hermosos que se han escrito en lengua castellana. Después de realizar ese portento, el suceso de su muerte el pasado viernes es, acaso, apenas un episodio en la vastedad del tiempo.
Eugenio Montejo wrote some of the most beautiful poems ever written in the Spanish language. After achieving this, his death last Friday is, if anything, just a brief chapter in the immensity of time.Eugenio Montejo wrote some of the most beautiful poems ever written in the Spanish language.
Argonauticas also gives a very interesting link to The Trees: Selected Poems 1967-2004
0 comments · »»June 3rd, 2008
Venezuela: Gaining Admission to Public Universities
· 04:01 · AmericasLast year, President Hugo Chávez anounced the elimination of admission tests to get into universities in Venezuela. They will be substituted by a National System of Admission. This new system must, according to the experts, create a social value, be practical, and be feasible with the country's resources. It must also be part of the public policies regarding Higher Education
Every year around 400,000 students seek to be admitted in Venezuelan public universities. Unfortunately, it is not possible to satisfy every demand, which leads to the discussion of how to assign students to a specific program based on certain criteria…but which criteria?
The Central University of Venezuela has witnessed demonstrations on the issue, especially during the election of the heads of the Academy. Some say that these changes are another of the President's demagogic strategies to (re)gain popularity by satisfying mediocrity and immediacy. Others feel that this new system represents a more democratic and more equal way to have access to a post-secondary education. The new policy has yet to be placed in effect, but Venezuelan bloggers have their own thoughts on the current and new systems.
Photo by Kit Kath and used under a Creative Commons license.
To Josefina of El Muro Te Lamenta [es], the elimination of the admission test doesn’t solve the issue:
El problema no es entrar, sino hacerlo en condiciones para salir exitosamente. Sin condiciones básicas de entrada, no se pueden formar profesionales competentes comprometidos con su país. Una vez recibidos, la Universidad no puede defraudar, ni a ellos ni al país.
The problem is not how to get in, but doing so in certain conditions that would permit one to successful finish. Without basic conditions for admission, it is impossible to educate competent professionals committed to their country. Onde they are accpeted, they cannot defraud them or the country.
Joacoramon of Venezuela Libre [es] adds the goal should be to provide equal education for all:
Eliminar las pruebas internas para ingresar al sistema de educación superior no resuelve el problema (…) El Gobierno lo sabe, pero prefiere colocar el paño caliente, antes de resolver el problema de fondo. Este es el problema de los gobiernos con vocación populista (…) abanderados de una igualdad que no existe. Iguales, como gotas de agua, deberíamos ser desde el principio de nuestra educación, calidad es lo que debe privar en la escuela básica y en el diversificado. (…) Y me pregunto: ¿quién, después de ver toda la discriminación impulsada por este Gobierno puede dar garantía que todos los bachilleres serán considerados a los ojos del Ejecutivo, iguales, como gotas de agua?
Eliminating admission tests does not solve the problem. The government knows that, but prefers to put a band-aid instead of solving the real problem. This is the problem with populist governments (…) defenders of an equality that doesn’t exist. Our education is the one that should be exactly alike, just like two drops of water, but from the beginning. A high quality education should be start from elementary school and go all the way through high school. (…) and I wonder, who, after seeing all the discrimination supported by this government can honestly believe that all high school graduates will be seen as equals, like two drops of water, to the eyes of the government?
In a Country of the Blind [es], Andrés shows another fact about the differences between private and public education in Venezuela:
¿Por qué entonces se produce el fenómeno de la exclusión de los estudiantes de las escuelas públicas? El mayor grado de admisiones a aspirantes provenientes de los colegios privados es consecuencia de la baja calidad de la educación pública del país.
Es también preciso comentar que existen varios factores que agravan la situación de las admisiones en las universidades y están son el factor socio-cultural. Durante el primer gobierno de Rafael Caldera decidieron cerrar las escuelas técnicas, con esto vino la idea de que todos debíamos ser universitarios, cualquier cosa por debajo era indecoroso, y con ello vino un segundo problema de mentalidad.
Luego esta un factor de injusticia que son los articulados de las normas de las universidades publicas que otorgan cupos a hijos de trabajadores, profesores, políticos, deportistas y artistas destacados. Por que hablo de injusticia sobre este caso pues hoy por hoy el 40% de la población estudiantil universitaria de la universidades publicas ingresan por medio de los conocidos artículos, que además son blanco de la corrupción interna de la universidad, del CNU, y de la OPSU.
Why does this produce a phenomenon of exclusion of public school students? The high number in admission of graduates from private schools is a consequence of the low quality in public schools.
It is also correct to comment that there are certain factors that make the situation even worse: the socio-cultural factors. During the first Rafael Caldera’s administration, they decided to shut down technical schools and after this, came the idea that we all should be university students. Anything below that was shameful. With that, came another problem; a mentality problem.
Then, there is another unfair factor: some articles in laws of public universities laws grant admission to the children of workers, professors, politicians, athletes and artists. Why do I say it’s unfair? Well, it seems that 40% of the students in public universities have been granted admission thanks to these laws, something that has been the target of corruption inside the university and the organizations that arrange general admission tests.
Writer and professor Barrera Linares in his Duda Melodica [es] gives an opinion on whether the tests also measure other important skills.
De las varias pruebas que llegué a evaluar alguna vez, muy pocas estaban relacionadas, por ejemplo, con procesos relativos a otros fenómenos, si se quiere más cualitativos, pero también humanos, como la reflexión, la opinión, la argumentación, el ambiente, la vida comunitaria, la actitud crítica, las comunicaciones, entre otros. A mi juicio también muy importantes si los relacionamos con algunas carreras universitarias existentes o futuras.
From all the tests I ever evaluated, few of them were related, for example, to other areas, more qualitative if you will, but also human, like insight, opinion, debate, environment, life in community, critical thinking, and communications among others. In my opinion, these are also important if we relate them with some careers that currently exists or will exist.
May 27th, 2008
Venezuela: The Poet Who Enjoyed the Simple Things in Life
· 04:24 · AmericasThis week was the birthday of the late Venezuelan poet Aquiles Nazoa , but unlike other years in which there many festivities, the cultural life in Caracas was kind of silent. A couple of years ago around these dates, there were presentations full of humor and anecdotes remembering the poet, who used to write about the simple things of life.
Nazoa had always led a simple life. His poetry illustrated the beauties of daily life and the humorous soul of all Venezuelans. He was also one of the most furious advocates of Human Rights during the 1960s in Venezuela and this reflected his love for his people through his poetry. His work covered images of folkloric heritage, children’s games, colors, and dreams without putting aside political problems, freedom of speech and criticism of the bourgeois of the time. All of this was covered with a sharp and delicate, and at the same time, very authentic Venezuelan sense of humor. And as Dulceambar [es] writes, his works bring laughter to many. Nazoa is remembered by many, and Poética del Empedrao [es] writes that his greatest accomplishment is the eternal acknowledgement of his people.
According to Kalafia [es], it was on April 25th, which marked 25 years of his death. He describes Nozoa as:
Un verdadero maestro, ese que pone el alma en las manos de sus alumnos. Lo conocimos en la Escuela de Letras de la UCV y allì nos enseñò la vida secreta de las muñecas y los àngeles, el misterio del vuelo erràtil de los caballitos del diablo sobre las aguas de los rìos. Hoy queremos rendirle homenaje, al llamado jocosamente “ruiseñor de Catuche” porque es el poeta que supo captar y expresar el màs puro sentir venezolano, eso que llaman “la conciencia nacional”. Y por ser tan venezolano era tan poeta, y tan humorista y tan polifacètico.
Nazoa was a real teacher, the one that puts his soul on the hands of his pupils. We met him at the Faculty of Arts (UCV) and there he taught us the secret life of dolls and angels, the mystery of the flight of the dragonflies on river waters. We would like to pay him homage today to the poet humorously called “Cantuche’s nightingale” since he was the poet that best knew how to capture and express the purest feelings of Venezuelans, something we like to call “the national conscience”. Being so Venezuelan was the reason for him to be such a poet, so humorous, so versatile.
The blog Ilustres [es] gives some details of his life. Here we have the last activities, of great transcendence:
Durante la década de los 70, además de preparar libros como La vida privada de las muñecas de trapo, Raúl Santana con un pueblo en el bolsillo y Leoncio Martínez, genial e ingenioso(publicado después de su muerte), dicta charlas y conferencias, mantiene un programa de televisión titulado Las cosas más sencillas y proyecta la formación de un grupo actoral que pusiera en práctica el «Teatro para leer». Muere en un accidente de tránsito (…). En su memoria se creó por proposición de Pedro León Zapata, la cátedra libre de humorismo «Aquiles Nazoa», inaugurada el 11 de marzo de 1980.
During the 1970s besides preparing books like (The private life of rag dolls, Raul Santana with a town in his pocket, and Leoncio Martínez wonderful and ingenious) he gives speeches and conferences, he presents a program called Simple things and helps with the training of a theatrical group the “theater to read”. He died in a car accident. In his memory, and through Pedro León Zapata’s proposal it was created the chair at the university “Aquiles Nazoa”, which started on March 11, 1980.
Among his works there were an important number of humorous pieces written in verse for theater, with new versions of classics like Hernani and Cinderella, among others that made fun of marital life and “high class” ladies with their “new money” as a criticism to the new bourgeoisie. Here, a part of his Cinderella on YouTube [es].
Aquiles Nazoa was truly a wonderful soul to the Venezuelan body. Many literary prizes and elementary schools have been given his name. He adored children, people, pigs and dogs. He had a special devotion to people’s education and struggle for justice. And since without an example of his works this post would be incomplete, let’s do an effort in literary translation to bring to this space a little piece from the poet:
Verbos irregulares:
Estos son unos verbos que, a paso de tortuga,
Yo conjugo,
Tú conugas,
Él conjuga…
Como sin garantías todo el mundo se inhibe
Yo no escribo,
Tú no escribes
Él no escribe
Pues de escribir las cosas que uno tiene en el seso
Yo voy preso,
Tú vas preso
Él va preso
These are some verbs that, slow like a turtle
I conjugate
You conjugate
He conjugates
And since everyone is afraid with the lack of constitutional rights
I don’t write
You don’t write
He doesn’t write
For if one writes all the thoughts under the veil
I go to jail
You go to jail
He goes to jail
His biography here, and more of his poems (in Spanish) can be seen here.
Finally, some bloggers have fond memories of childhood alongside Nazoa's verses. Plomo al Arpa [es] writes:
Estudié toda la primaria y el bachillerato en el “Instituto Parroquial San Juan Bautista de La Salle”, frente a la plaza Capuchinos y al lado de la Escuela “19 de Abril” (Antigua Escuela Zamora) (…)Así me fui impregnando de San Juan, creciendo entre su gente y familiarizándome con su arquitectura, jugando en la plaza entre sus hermosas columnas de ladrillo rematadas por vigas de madera, sus palomas y sus borrachos, representando en actos estudiantiles las obras de un famosísimo libro llamado “Humor y amor”. Sentía particularmente cercano este libro porque lo que leía en él lo olía, lo veía, lo sentía en el camino al colegio, en mis juegos en terrenos abandonados, en mis paseos entre casas antiguas para hacer un “mandado”. Un día me conseguí con un poema que hablaba del palomar de la plaza Capuchinos y me pareció todo un detalle que un poeta le dedicara unas líneas a ese testigo de mis juegos y mis escapes de clase, después sabría que ese poeta había recorrido esas calles y estudiado al lado de donde yo lo hacía y que había hecho todo un universo con las cosas más sencillas que había percibido, muchas de las cuales forman parte de mi infancia. (…) el poeta de las cosas más sencillas, ese que me reenamoró de mi ciudad y de mi San Juan tan querido. Feliz cumpleaños Aquiles!!!
I studied all my life in San Juan Bautista de La Salle (a High School) in front of Capuchinos Square and next to the old Zamora School. (…) Thus, I grew up among that people and getting familiar with the architecture, playing at the square, with its beautiful columns made of brick and finished in wood, its pigeons and drunk men, representing little plays from a very famous book called Humor y amor (Humour and love). I felt particularly close to this book, since all I read and smelled the things that I felt it on my way to school, and in my childish games in abandoned fields, and in my walks through all the antique houses when they sent me to run an errand. One day, I came across a poem about the Capuchinos Square's pigeon house and I thought it was a wonderful detail that a poet could dedicate some lines to my games and when I escaped from school. Afterwards, I would know that this poet had run in the same streets and studied next to where I did and that he made a whole universe with the most simplest things that he had seen, and most of them, were also a part of my childhood. (…) The poet of simple things, the one that made me fall in love again with my city and my beloved San Juan. Happy birthday Aquiles!
May 19th, 2008
Venezuela: Samuel Villegas and His Last Book
· 03:48 · AmericasSamuel Villegas, an admired Venezuelan writer, whose name is often mentioned alongside other well-known writers (such as Jesús Enrique Guédez [es], Arnaldo Acosta Bello, Ángel Acevedo and Rafael Cadenas [es]) was recently buried after several years of convalescence. A few days before his passing, he received a last homage and presented his last book, Muros del Sol (The Sun's Walls) inside the hospital while accompanied by his friends, who arranged a simple, but very moving service.
Villegas will be remembered for his poetry and other works in which he provided clever insights on culture and education in Venezuela. Nevertheless, although the media accomplished the task of spreading the news, a few blogs dedicated some lines to an author during his last days. Villegas was buried with roses in one of the poorest cemeteries of the city surrounded by a light silence.
Julia Márquez Otero from Letras en la Red [es] says:
Samuel Villegas entrega el poemario Muros del Sol con la certeza de la faena cumplida, del verso madurado durante más de tres décadas de expresión poética. Villegas publicó su primera obra, La señal del primer hombre, en 1959 (…) Desde entonces, su escritura pulsó lo estético sin abandonar el reclamo social en libros como Príncipe caído príncipe y El loro que mentía (relatos).
Así, los 310 poemas que propone Villegas pueden ser aprehendidos como no-lugares (o espacios borrados de su condición inicial) de encuentro entre el lector y el mundo, unas veces exaltado “Entiende, ningún árbol ha crecido debajo de otro árbol. / Deja al Norte en el Norte. / Y recuerda que estás al Sur, latino, abajo”.
Samuel Villegas sonríe ante las dudas más profundas que lo atraviesan a él y a su lector, “Yo no creo en Dios, / dije, / Y Dios se rió de buena gana. / Mis ríos interiores se desbordaron inusitadamente”… Y no se detiene en la nostalgia del pasado, sino que lo recupera en una advertencia suspendida entre los versos: “nada puede ser reconstruido / sin que la palabra pérdida / apunte certeramente hacia el pasado”…
Samuel Villegas presents Muros del Sol with the certainty of an accomplished work, of mature verses that has been growing during three decades of poetic expression. Villegas published his first work La señal del primer hombre, in 1959. Ever since, his writing followed the aesthetic without leaving behind the social conscious in books and short stories such as Príncipe caído príncipe y El loro que mentía (A Fallen Prince and The Lying Parrot)
Thus, these 310 poems written by Villegas can be comprehended as non-places (or erased spaces from their original condition) for an encounter between the reader and the world, once exalted: Remember, no tree has grown under another tree / Leave the North in the North / And remember: you are at the South, Latin, below.
The poet smiles at those who doubts and attack him and that attack the reader: I don't believe in God/ I said/ And God laughed affably / My inner rivers overflowed suddenly. He doesn't stay nostalgic in the past, instead, he brings it back in suspended warnings from verse to verse: Nothing can be reconstituted / without the lost word / pointing truthfully to the past.
In CCS (Caracas) blog Iván R. Méndez comments about the new book :
En Muros del Sol, Villegas nos adentra en un universo conformado por más de 300 poemas circulares, que van y viene en torno a los tópicos que lo inquietan y que Julia Márquez logra precisar al decir que “esta obra se deja abordar a través de doce itinerarios bien definidos, en los cuales se intuye el pulso severo del lector ante las palabras que no le dan oportunidad a que las domeñe o las rechace (.Es… ) el puro goce de la palabra plasmada en el papel”.
In Muros del Sol, Villegas takes us to a universe made of more than 300 circular poems that comes and goes around restless topics. Julia Marquez goes straight to the main point when she says that “this work can be read through twelve well-defined schedules, in which the severe pulse of the reader can be felt when facing words that are not given the opportunity to be dominated or rejected. It is pure enjoyment of words on paper”
Blogger and GV author Luis Carlos Díaz gives a very interesting insight about the lack of information about Villegas:
Poca, poquísima información en internet sobre la muerte del poeta Samuel Villegas esta semana que pasó. Esperamos unos días a ver si la blogosfera literaria venezolana decía algo al respecto, pero no hubo movimiento. Tampoco ha sido registrada su estela por la vida de las letras venezolanas en la Wikipedia. Como si fuese de otra época y sus letras en tinta no hayan saltado la barda de la sociedad de la información. Cuánta formación falta de este lado. Escasea la sensibilidad para registrar lo nuestro en Internet.
Pocos días después de presentar su último libro editado, desde la cama donde convalecía, falleció el poeta a los 75 años. Y la nota de su muerte reseñada por el diario Tal Cual, donde con rosas lo despidieron.
There is little, very little information online this past week about the death of poet Samuel Villegas. We were waiting some days to see if the literary blogosphere in Venezuela would say something about it, but we found little activity. His life has not been registered in Wikipedia. It was as if he was from another time and as if his words had not jumped into information's society. How much information is missing here? There is a lack of sensitivity to register what is ours on the Internet.
A few days after presenting his last book in bed where he was resting, the 75 year-old poet died. The note of his death can be seen in the Journal Tal Cual in which they said goodbye with roses.
May 13th, 2008
Venezuela: Publishing House Provides Works Online
· 01:05 · AmericasThere is good news for those that are learning Spanish and for fans of literature in Spanish. Thanks to an initiative from the Venezuelan Ministry of Culture, literary works from the publishing house Ayacucho Library [es] is now available online for free. For some months now, bloggers and other literary enthusiasts have been able to access and download a wide array of Hispanic literary works available in .pdf format. Bloggers are pleased with the selection and the fact that it is available for readers.
Departamento de Lengua [es] says:
La editorial venezolana Ayacucho posee uno de los catálogos más interesantes -tanto por la calidad de las obras editadas como por el número de las mismas- de literatura hispanoamericana del mundo. Desde las primitivas tradiciones indígenas hasta las grandes novelas del siglo XX, desde los escritos del Almirante Colón hasta los Comentarios del Inca Garcilazo.
Venezuelan publishing house Ayacucho has one of the most interesting lists –both for its literary quality of published works and for the number of works available– in Hispano-American literature around the world. From ancient indigenous traditions to the greatest novels of the 20th century; from writings by Admiral Columbus to the commentary of the Inca Garcilazo.
Actualidad Literatura [es] remembers how useful the paperback versions of these works were in his education:
A lo largo de los últimos 33 años Biblioteca Ayacucho ha publicado gran parte de los clásicos de la literatura hispanoamericana, y en ediciones de justificado prestigio. Mis profesores de literatura, por ejemplo, las reverenciaban, y yo he de decir que aprendí bastante con las que consulté.
During the last 33 years that Biblioteca Ayacucho has published a large part of the justifiably prestigious classics in Hispanic-American literature. My literature teachers, for example, revered them, and I must say I learned a lot with these books.
Papelón Con Limón [es] gives a list of the Works we can find in this library:
Doctrina del Libertador, de Simón Bolívar; La Vorágine, de José Eustasio Rivera; Cien tradiciones peruanas, de Ricardo Palma; Poesía, de Rubén Darío; Nuestra América, de José Martí; María, de Jorge Isaacs; Cuentos, de Horacio Quiroga.
Simon Bolivar’s doctrine, José Eustasio Rivera’s La Vorágine, Ricardo Palma’s Cien tradiciones peruanas, Rubén Darío’s poetry, José Martí’s Nuestra America, Jorge Isaacs’s María, Horacio Quiroga’s short stories.
April 29th, 2008
Venezuela: Debates on the New Educational Curriculum
· 05:18 · AmericasThe Venezuelan government's new proposal for the elementary school education system has created a new point of hard discussion in the country. While some say that the previous program needs to be reinforced in social and socialist values, as well as patriotic ideas, some others claim they're worried that this new system can be, above all, a new way of make children learn the government's doctrines.
According to some bloggers, many of the proposals seem to be jokes. To others, it is precisely what the educational system needs. The discussion is on the table. New groups of discussion have been created, urging teachers and parents to pay attention and participate in the discussion. The media keeps an eye on every declaration from the government or from opposition groups; a possibility of a new referendum on the matter is also discussed. In addition, blogs pay attention on the subject and comment.
Part of what is attacked is the new system, which seeks to remove some competitive sports. They propose more traditional games based on solidarity and equality. Also, there is the discussion of studies on national culture and traditions, since the new project seems to highlight African and aboriginal heritage over the European. Above all, an extended and detailed study of Chavez's government and ideals are preferred over world history and Venezuelan contemporary history.
Blogger Talfin heard some of the proposals on the radio and immediately took them as a joke. After a closer look, he comments:
La otra medida, es eliminar los llamados cuadros de honor porque esto genera competencia. Bueno sin palabras realmente (…) ¿Qué clase de metas les están trazando a las próximas generaciones?, ¿ser uno más del montón?, ¿porque no se estimula la excelencia en vez de la mediocridad? Si bien esto de la mediocridad no es nada producido exclusivamente por los chavistas, ellos no están haciendo absolutamente nada para mejorarlo, si no todo lo contrario. (…)
Another proposal is to eliminate the Honor Roll since this creates competition. I have no words. What kind of goals are they teaching to the new generations? To be another one of the bunch? Why don't they stimulate excellence instead of mediocrity? (…) If in fact none of this mediocrity is exclusively the work of Chavez's people, they have not done anything to improve the situation, quite the contrary.
The blog Fotos de Chávez [es] publishes an interview of a specialist in pedagogy:
El debate no es si vamos a aumentar el número de liceos, mejorar las comprensión lectora, cómo bajar la repitencia, sino hablar de bolivarianismo y marxismo. Eso está bien, que se discuta de todo, pero la esencia de la escuela no se aborda. Pero no todo es tan malo, destaca la enseñanza del inglés y de la tecnología desde la primera etapa. Sin embargo, hay un detalle: “el problema es que los maestros no hablan inglés. Tampoco hay laboratorios para la práctica de la computación”, explicó. Ante el temor de los padres por la ideologización de la educación que entraña el currículo, Herrera dijo que es una posibilidad remota, ya que su experiencia le indica que no es así. La educación es más el resultado de la praxis que de las leyes. “La calidad la afecta las políticas públicas, no las leyes”. (En cualquier caso) fallas en la infraestructura y la condición social del docente conspiran contra ese propósito, a lo cual se suma el hecho que más se aprende por la socialización que en la escuela.
The debate is not based on whether we are to make more schools, improve reading comprehension or how to avoid kids failing the academic year, we discuss Bolivarianism, Marxism… that's good, to discuss everything but the essential meaning of the school is not discussed. On the fear of some parents on turning education to ideology, an important element of the new program, Herrera says it is a remote possibility, since according to his experience it does not work like this. Education is more a result of praxis than law. “Quality affects public policies, not law”. “(In any case) there are failures in the infrastructure, and the social teacher's social position conspires against any purpose. To this we can add the fact that you learn more socializing than at school.”
Evony says:
El nuevo diseño curricular maneja como uno de sus postulados la enseñanza o el aprendizaje significativo, lo que se ha dado a denominar “Constructivismo Pedagógico”. Este modelo pretende que lo que el alumno aprenda tenga significado para él. Cuando hablamos en el Sistema Educativo Bolivariano (SEB) que se encuentra en Currículo Nacional Bolivariano (CNB) de “la formación para la defensa de la soberanía nacional…” a que nos referimos, a la defensa de nuestra cultura como pueblo, de nuestros ideales como país, de los ideales del Presidente Chávez como máxima figura de la Revolución Bolivariana o de nuestro territorio, y como nuestros niños, niñas y adolescentes defenderían esto, con ideas o con armas, esta ambigüedad que expresa el CNB tiene que ser revisado y aclarado, porque no se debe permitir un adoctrinamiento de nuestros jóvenes.
The new program uses as one on its basis the significance of learning, which has been named “pedagogic constructivism”. This model looks to teach the pupil something that's really valuable to him. When we speak of the Bolivarian Educative System in the Bolivarian National Program of Studies for “education for the defense of national sovereignty…” what we mean is to defend our culture as a people, to defend our culture as a people, our ideals as a country, president Chavez's ideals as our main leader and main figure of the Bolivarian revolution or our territory. And as our children and our young would defend this with ideas or arms, this ambiguity expressed in the Bolivarian program needs to be evaluated and clarified, since we should not permit indoctrination in our children.
Vulcano of Noticias Bolivarianas [es] supports the new proposals:
Le doy un rotundo apoyo al Nuevo Diseño Curricular Bolivariano que actualmente se discute en toda la geografía del país, puesto que éste, no sólo se caracteriza por ser inédito sino que ubica a Venezuela en un sitial de relevancia transformadora en la Era Moderna, con filosofía y pensamientos propios derivados de hombres y mujeres nativos de estas tierras con sueños de dibujar y construir a través del Sistema Educativo Bolivariano un modelo de sociedad diferente donde se reivindique la verdadera esencia del ser.
I support completely the new Bolivarian Educational Program that is discussed all over the country, since it is characterized not only for being unique but also because it places Venezuela in a relevant place of transforming to the Modern Era, with philosophy and thoughts brought by women and men born in this land with dreams of building through a different model of society where his real essence of being can be claimed.
The complete program can be seen here (in Spanish)
1 comment · »»April 25th, 2008
Venezuela: Kusturica's Visit Becomes Political
· 05:30 · AmericasAcclaimed film director Emir Kusturica visited Caracas to close out the week of celebrations for the city with a concert by his No Smoking Orchestra. After seven years from his last visit, Kusturica's fans (myself included) gathered for the free concert that took place at one of the biggest parks in Caracas. In the end, Kusturica's visit became a political visit, which was especially demonstrated, when he attended conference at the Center for Latin American Studies (CELARG in Spanish) and congratulated the rebel spirit of Venezuelans who struggle against the Empire. In addition, he spoke in favor of the president and criticized the manipulating media. He made it sound as he was someone who seemed to know the country very well… even though he only stayed for a couple of days.
Photo by Luis Carlos Díaz and used under a Creative Commons license.
All the activities that surrounded the Serbian artist's visit had a very kusturican atmosphere. After hours of waiting, disorganization, chaos and the belief from people that the political discourse had no place at the concert, the evening began controversy, ideaologies, political bands and a humiliated politician, but in the end, all the magic and music brought by the No Smoking Orchestra was what was important. Before and after the big event bloggers showed their views on the artists, who no doubt, left a mark on those who participated.
In his blog Lejos del Mundo y de Los Hombres Vanos [es], Gustavo remembers part of the concert and about the crowd's reaction to the town's mayor:
Luego (…) llegó el turno a El Pacto. (…) Esta gente, aunque suenan bien, bajaron un poco el ánimo del público. Sus letras anti imperialistas cargadas de política no calaron bien en la gente. Ojo, varios de los que estaban a mí alrededor se sabían las canciones, eso me dijo que esta gente tiene sus seguidores (…) Suenan bien y suenan duro. Particularmente no me gustó escuchar el discurso del presidente cantado en Rock. (…) Ya eran las doce de la noche (…) el Alcalde (…) se montó en la tarima (…) Apenas tomó el micrófono, comenzó el abucheo. No fueron todos los presentes, pero fueron suficientes para que se escuchara con claridad. Le gritaban a coro “fuera” “fuera” y le tiraban botellas de plástico (pocas pero lo hicieron) (…) el niño grande se molestó y dijo (no son sus palabras exactas): “la Alcaldía les trajo a Kusturica, ¿Quieren que me vaya? Porque si me voy, Kusturica no toca”.
After (…) it was the turn of the band El Pacto to play. These people sound good. Nevertheless their lyrics are full of political ideas and anti-imperialism, which didn't really fit in the public's mood. But, hey… many people around me knew the songs, which tells me that the band has fans. They sound good and hard, but I didn't really liked the President's speech sung backed by rock music (…) It was already midnight (…) and the Mayor appeared on stage (…) As soon as he grabbed the mic, the public started to boo. Not everybody did it, but the booers were enough to make themselves heard. The shouted “get out!” and threw plastic bottles (not very many, but they did) (…) The big boy got mad and said (I don't remember his exact words) “The Mayor's office brought Kusturica, do you want me to leave? ‘Cause if I go, Kusturica won't play!”
HAL 9000 of Reflexiones de Robot [es] provides more on the concert's incident and the double-edge sword of “free” culture:
En realidad la comunicación del evento fue bastante desastrosa… Un grupo importante de gente creía que comenzaba a las 2, otros que a las 4 y otros que a las 5… En realidad lo importante es que a las 7 y media de la noche todavía no habían comenzado… Un par de ¿animadores? Se subieron a la tarima a explicar que todo se debía a “problemas técnicos (…) La masa respondió con pitas, pero los animadores, tratando de hablar con un lenguaje callejero que les salía tan natural como una novela de RCTV o una película de Carlos Azpúrua, esgrimieron un argumento que les pareció genial para justificar la falta de organización… “Recuerden que es gratis”. ¿Gratis significa chaborreo y desorganización? ¿Gratis significa que puedo pautar a la gente a una hora y después comenzar el espectáculo cuando a mí me dé la gana? Y peor aún, ¿gratis significa que te la tienes que calar y no puedes protestar?”
To be honest, the logistics in the event was disastrous. Many people thought it started at 2 pm, others that it started at 4 pm and some others that it would be at 5 pm. What is important is that at half past 7 they had not yet started. A couple of hosts(?) appeared on stage and explained they were having some “technical problems.” The public responded with boos, but the hosts tried to reply with wit, and in a very unnatural slang, saying that the public should remember the concert was for free. Does “free” mean disorganization and mediocrity? Does “free” mean that I can tell people that they should come at one time and then start the show when I feel like it? Or even worse, does “free” mean that you have to swallow your words and keep the protest to yourself?”
Titus remarked some of Kusturica's ideas in Selva [es]
El cineasta y músico, agradeció la oportunidad de poder venir a Venezuela nuevamente y presentarse con su banda, y señaló que la visión de Caracas esta vez es distinta, que es una gran ciudad con edificios altos y hamburguesas pero que detrás de eso está la lucha de un pueblo (…) Para él aún existen los mismos problemas, tanto en Sarajevo como en Caracas, pero muchas veces los medios de comunicación masivos reflejan otra cosa. (…) muchas de las informaciones sobre la situación de Kosovo, fueron creadas por los Estados Unidos y repetidas constantemente alrededor del mundo para crear una falsa matriz de opinión.
“La gente empieza a creerlo, porque los medios hacen la verdad y la verdad es muy débil si no se sustenta en los medios. Una vez que has sido marcado como una persona mala es muy difícil luchar contra los medios. Cuando los medios te aprietan, no crees en nada más y al final de la historia, la gente que no conoce qué pasó en Kosovo, cree lo que ve en los medios. Y si no conoces el alma y corazón de Kosovo… pero ¿quién se interesa hoy por la cultura y la historia? Nosotros tenemos que encargarnos de eso, porque sin identidad sin nuestra cultura, no sobreviviremos.”
The movie maker and musician thanked the opportunity he was given to visit Caracas again and to be able to perform with his band. He noted that his vision of Caracas is different this time, that it's a city with high buildings and hamburgers but that behind everything there was the struggle of its people (…) In his opinion there are still the same problems, just as there are Sarajevo as in Caracas, but the media shows something else. Much news and information on Kosovo were created by the United States and repeated constantly around the world in order to create a false sense of opinion.
“The people start to believe, because the media tells the truth and truth is very weak if it is not supported by media. Once you've been marked as a bad person it is difficult to fight against the media. When the media tightens its screws, it is difficult to believe in anything else and at the end of the story; people that do not know what happened in Kosovo believe what they see in the media, even more if you don't know the soul and the heart of Kosovo. But who is interested in culture and history nowadays? We need to get on that, because without our identity, without our culture, we won't survive.”
Noticias 24 reports that in the concert that had taken place the day before, a shooting left two people dedad. Nevertheless, the show went on and the Mayor's office did not cancel the festival. It seems that the deceased had charges against him and that others that were also wounded in the shooting went away when the confusion arose. In addition, blogger and Global Voices author Luis Carlos Díaz comments on Noticias 24 regarding the Mayor's incident and publishes a video and photos he took and at the concert.
Cuando el alcalde apareció para decir quién firmó los cheques la gente no paró de abuchearlo. ¿Lo impresionante? Que Barreto intentara chantajear al público diciendo que si no lo querían a él, entonces Kusturica no se montaba en el escenario. Y luego dijo “váyanse, pues, váyanse”. Las pitas no dejaron de aumentar y hasta botellas plásticas y papeles tiraron a la tarima, hasta que se fue. Y sí, el público era mayoritariamente pro-revolucionario. Pero con Barreto se gritó “fuera la política”, entre otras cosas.
When the Mayor appeared to say who paid the money (to bring Kustruica to Caracas) people did not stop booing him. What was impressive was that Barreto (Caracas mayor) tried to blackmail the public saying that if they did not want him, Kusturica wouldn't play. The he said: “go, go now…”. The boos kept growing and plastic bottles were even thrown to the stage, until he left. And yes, the public was mainly revolutionary. But with Barreto people started to yell “no politics!” among other things.
At the end, Kusturica's art triumphed over politics, contradictions or even disorder. People danced with the musical genius of the Non Smoking Orchestra, and Kumasi of Miniplug TV [es] sums it up:
Kusturica & The No Smoking Orchestra dieron el mejor show del año, dejaron montar a un gentío (…) y repitieron dos canciones al final, son lo máximo. - Todo terminó tranquilo y no hubo tiros ni nada fuera de lo normal.
Kusturica & The No Smoking Orchestra gave the show of the year! They let a lot of people get on stage (…) and they repeated two songs at the end. They're the best! - Everything ended quite normally. There were no shootings.
April 18th, 2008
Venezuela: The Simpsons Not Welcome Anymore
· 00:21 · AmericasIt seems that the Venezuelan government does not care much for Matt Groening’s show, “The Simpsons.” The American TV show, very popular for over ten years, was banned recently on one of Venezuela’s private networks by order of the government. Apparently some complaints were received at the government’s controlling agency for media because The Simpsons was being aired at 11 am. It seems strange that after decades of popularity, that this show could have any complaint in Venezuela. Nevertheless, the banning has come as breaking news and has become a scandal by public opinion, not only because of it happening so suddenly, but also because of its programming slot was substituted by Baywatch.
Actitud [es] says:
Los Simpson han sido considerados muy fuertes y por ende censurados en Venezuela. El tema es que por qué tomar esta decisión después de tanto tiempo de que existe la serie tan popular.
The Simpsons has been considered very rude and therefore, has been censured in Venezuela. The thing is why was this decision made after all this time, as this popular show has been on air for a long time.
From Argentina, with “Blogus”, an opinion comes more aggressively:
Ya está bien Chávez!, es increíble que te transformes en una ridícula y decadente caricatura de vos mismo, que todas las ideas socialistas se transformen en stalinistas, que los controles a la prensa sea casi igual a la censura empleada en regímenes dictatoriales. Ya está bien. Ya sabemos como latinoamericanos lo que pasa con los que se creen los salvadores del mundo; tarde o temprano la pagan. ¿No aprendiste la lección en el referendum que perdiste? No Chávez, Los Simpsons, no. ¿No te das cuenta que aunque el formato de familia que representan puede ser extrapolado a todas las familias occidentales, es más una crítica a la sociedad estadounidense? (…)Si vos querés que tu modelo de familia no sea el de Homer y compañía, dejá que la sociedad y los niños la comparen.
That’s enough Chavez! It is incredible that you transform yourself into a ridiculous and decadent cartoon on your own, that all Socialist ideas become Stalinists, that you control the press, just as it was censored during the dictatorial regimes. It is enough! We, as Latin Americans, know what happens with those that believe themselves to be the saviors of the world; they have to respond sooner or later. ¿Didn’t you learn the lesson with the referendum you lost? No, Chavez, not The Simpsons! Don’t you realize that what the show actually criticizes Western society? If you don’t want your family standards to be like Homer’s let society and kids decide.
The blog Noticias y entretenimiento [es] also responds:
Que!?!?
El organismo de control televisivo del país asegura que la serie es “una mala influencia” para los menores.
Los niños venezolanos ya no podrán ver Los Simpson. El gobierno de Chávez ha obligado a retirar de la programación Televen, un canal privado de televisión, la mítica serie protagonizada por Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa y Maggie. La serie ya tiene sustituto, los musculosos socorristas enfundados en rojos bañadores de Los vigilantes de la playa. (O si… que buena influencia!!!)
What?!?!
The governmental institution that regulates the media assures us that the show “is a bad influence” to minors.
Venezuelan kids won’t be able to watch The Simpsons. Chavez’s government has forced them to withdraw Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie away from Televen’s schedule (a private network). The show has already lined up a substitute: the fit bodied lifeguards in red wet suits of Baywatch (Oh! This is a good influence!)
Periodista digital [es] says:
El presidente venezolano ha vuelto a meter mano en la tele. Ahora, por el bien de los niños. Piensa que la serie es una “mala influencia para los niños” y ha decidido que los infantes se entretengan viendo los tremendos escotes de las vigilantes de la playa; una, “menos controvertida”.
The Venezuelan president has mettled with television, now for the kids’ sake. He thinks the show is a “bad influence for children” and has decided that kids should entertain themselves with incredible cleavages in Baywatch, a “less controversial” show.
5 comments · »»April 6th, 2008
Venezuela: A Month for Farewells - Part II
· 12:39 · AmericasIn the second part of the article about famous Venezuelan artists, who have passed away recently and their corresponding tributes, writer Adriano González León has demonstrated how much he has meant to the country. In March, the Central University’s Institute of Literary Research took its turn to pay homage to González León, one of the most important figures in Venezuela's modern literature, who died January 12, 2008. In what is considered as his most remarkable work, País portátil (The portable country) contextualizes the political crisis in Venezuela in the sixties and takes the voice of the main character to criticize the political conventions of the time and the decadence seen in the ideas of that generation.
Gonzalez was born in Valera in 1931 and before his death, his last work Viejo (Old) was highly praised, among others, by Gabriel García Marquez who said that Viejo was the novel “he would have wanted to write”. This writer was a reporter for the Venezuelan newspaper El Nacional, a Literature professor in the Faculty of Arts (UCV), and was member and founder of the literary magazines Sardio, Letra Roja and El Techo de la Ballena. He also won the literary prize given by El Nacional for his short story El Lago (The Lake).
In certain interviews, González expressed his anxiety regarding the uncertainty of the current political situation.
To me, it is inconceivable that many partners among which we built an idea of Socialism can be so confused and have not learned the brutal lesson of […] the false construction of those republics based on socialism that became no less than countries terribly oppressed and humiliated.
The Venezuelan blogosphere and the publishing houses in Caracas also paid homage to this memorable writer through several notes, thoughts and special editions about the writer and his works. Most of them believe that one of the most important voices of the Venezuelan literature had passed on, and thus, wrote some lines as a way to say goodbye.
Papel en Blanco [es] said:
País Portátil es, sin lugar a dudas, su obra cumbre (…) Narra 12 horas en la vida y la memoria de Andrés Barazarte un joven que, al igual que Adriano, llegó a Caracas desde los Andes. Es un retrato vertiginoso y crudo de la realidad de una Caracas sumida en el fragor de la lucha guerrillera y la represión política.
País Portátil is, undoubtedly, his masterpiece. (…) It is about 12 hours in Andrés Barazarte’s memory, a young man that, just like Adriano, came to Caracas from the Andes. It’s a vertiginous and harsh portrait of a city, Caracas, burning in the fire of political repression and guerrillas.
Manuel Ferreira of Metal Literal [es], remarks about the importance of the writer:
Sin duda fue y será un personaje influyente y destacado en las letras hispanas, que incluso mereció elogios de grandes escritores como Gabriel García Márquez. Hoy su presencia se nos ha escapado, pero su obra y su aporte dejan su imagen en alto dentro del orbe literario.
No doubt, he was and will be an influential character, a remarkable person in Hispanic literature that deserved praises from great writers, like Gabriel García Márquez. Today his presence has left us, but his work and contribution leaves his mark on the literary circle.
To finish, a thought from the author is underlined by Jorge, in Letralia [es]:
Adriano González León se quejaba anteayer en esta entrevista [es] de que el venezolano medio es un ser superficial (…) y del enorme desbalance entre la cantidad de libros que salen a la calle respecto a lo que se lee. En realidad se quejaba de un montón de cosas: del llamado socialismo del siglo XXI, de la política editorial oficial, de las librerías que sólo venden best-sellers y autoayuda. Y lanza alguna frase memorable:
Hay mucho profesor que juega al divino papel de intelectual (algo que hace de la literatura un fastidio) y la literatura no puede ser un fastidio. La literatura es un entusiasmo grandioso del espíritu, algo que debe conmovernos, nos debe hacer reír o llevar a las lágrimas.
Éste, su país portátil, estará siempre en deuda con él, quizás sin saberlo
Adriano González León complained yesterday in this interview [es] about the average Venezuelan of being shallow (…) and the imbalance between the number of books that are in stock and those that are actually read. Actually he complained about a lot of things, the so-called socialism from the 21st century, the publishing houses’ policies, the book stores that sell only best-sellers and the self-help genre. And he provides this memorable thought:
There are a lot of teachers playing the role of an intellectual (something that makes literature annoying) literature can’t be annoying. Literature is the immense enthusiasm of the spirit, something that should move us, make us laugh or break into tears.
This, his portable country, will always be in debt with him, maybe without him being aware of it.
About Laura Vidal
I am a Venezuelan researcher in languages and literature, as well as a Translator and writer/editor living the savage urban life of Caracas. I blog at Sacando la Lengua [es] about languages, literature and cultural interaction. I'm happy to be also a volunteer translator for Lingua (Global Voices in Spanish). I deeply believe in the uniqueness and importance of every culture and in the study of them as a mirror to our own. Other GV sites
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