"Dame dame dame, que te voy a dar ... una guayabita de mi guayabal."

Showing posts with label video. Show all posts
Showing posts with label video. Show all posts

5.26.2011

An in-depth look at the complicated and situation in the Afro-Colombian city of Tumaco

This dispatch from Tumaco, by Adam Isaacson of the Washington Office on Latin America (WOLA), has an excellent summary of the current state of affairs in Tumaco, including a historical summary, a discussion of US policy, Colombia's governability problem, human rights violations, and Afro-Colombian responses to the situation. And video! The original post is on the Just the Facts blog, jointly run by the Center for International Policy, the Latin America Working Group Education Fund, and the Washington Office on Latin America.


In troubled Tumaco, little progress


During the last week of April a group from the Washington Office on Latin America (WOLA, Washington), the Center for International Policy (CIP, Washington), Asociación MINGA (Bogotá), and the Institute for Development and Peace Studies (INDEPAZ, Bogotá) traveled to Tumaco, on the Pacific coast of Colombia’s far southwest, near the border with Ecuador.

Driving through Tumaco, Colombia (Short version) from Adam Isacson on Vimeo.

With a population of 180,000 and a land area about equal to Rhode Island, the city and surrounding municipality (county) of Tumaco make up one of Colombia’s most troubled and violent territories. Every year, Tumaco is listed as Colombia’s number-one or number-two municipality for the cultivation of coca, the crop used to make cocaine (the country has 1,100 municipalities). It also has one of the country’s highest murder rates — well over 100 homicides per 100,000 residents — and a strong guerrilla and paramilitary-group presence.

We traveled to Tumaco because it is also one of about fourteen sites chosen for a U.S.-supported military and development aid program that is, in a way, the successor to “Plan Colombia.” Known as “Consolidation” or “Integrated Action,” this large-scale program purports to introduce a functioning government in long–neglected territories.

Our four organizations are carrying out a joint project to monitor this program. Though its design indicates that learning has taken place since Plan Colombia’s launch in 2000, we have concerns about Consolidation: the role of the military, coordination between government bodies, consultation with communities, effects on land tenure, and several others.

In each of the chosen zones, the Consolidation strategy begins with offensive military operations to establish “security conditions.” Then, it aims quickly to bring in the rest of the government to provide basic services in a phased, coordinated way. According to the Consolidation program’s documents, the desired end state is the military’s near-total pullout from the zone, leaving behind a functioning government, greatly reduced violence, the absence of armed groups, and the elimination of drug production.

Though we were looking at it in Tumaco, the United States has invested most heavily in Consolidation elsewhere in Colombia since the program began, in its current form, in 2007. A December 2009 report by the Center for international Policy, “After Plan Colombia,” looks at Consolidation in two of those zones of greater investment: the La Macarena region south of Bogotá, and the Montes de María region near the Caribbean coast. U.S. officials tell us that the program is advancing with Washington’s support in the southern part of Tolima department, west of Bogotá, but we have not yet visited that zone.

Though it appears in the list of consolidation zones and is clearly a priority because of drug production, we hadn’t heard as much about how the program was proceeding in Tumaco. We chose to visit the city, though, because of a close tie to U.S. policy: its crisis of violence and drug-trafficking owes in part to Plan Colombia’s unintended consequences.

Fumigation planes share the tarmac at Tumaco's airport.

In 2000, a US$1.3 billion aid package from the United States, the first outlay of funds for Plan Colombia, allowed a dramatic expansion of aerial herbicide fumigation in the department of Putumayo, about 250 miles east of Tumaco, bordering Tumaco’s home department of Nariño. At the time, Putumayo was Colombia’s largest producer of coca. Plan Colombia extended into Putumayo a huge aerial herbicide fumigation program. U.S. planners did not accompany this spraying program with anywhere near enough alternative development assistance for Putumayo’s farmers. In fact, Plan Colombia lacked any real attempt to establish a permanent civilian government presence there; it continues to be weak in Putumayo.

As a result, many Putumayans whose crops were sprayed and found themselves with no economic options migrated to the Pacific coast, particularly Tumaco. The town of Llorente, in the eastern part of Tumaco municipality, is occasionally called “Putumayito” because of the large number of Putumayan migrants.

The displacement of coca, and coca growers, to Putumayo upset the social order in what was then one of Colombia’s most forgotten corners. Tumaco’s mostly Afro-Colombian population lives in near-total isolation from the rest of the country, engaging in subsistence agriculture or growing basic cash crops like coconuts, cacao, or plantains. Lining the many rivers flowing into the Pacific are communities settled by freed and escaped slaves, whose descendants were excluded and held apart from Colombia’s national life.

In 1993, two years after Colombia approved a progressive new constitution, a new law — Law 70 — recognized the landholdings of these and hundreds of other Afro-Colombian communities in the country’s isolated, undeveloped, densely jungled Pacific lowlands. These landholdings, known as Community Councils, are held in common. Titled collectively, they make up a significant percentage of Tumaco’s land area. A smaller but significant amount of land is in the hands of indigenous communities.

This major advance in recognition of their property rights, unfortunately, came at the same time that these communities entered into greater contact with the outside world. Instead of government officials offering security, justice and basic services, though, “contact” meant encounters with narcotraffickers and large landowners, who were often the same people.

The narcotraffickers were attracted by Tumaco’s strategic value. Its rivers have proven to be ideal corridors for taking shipments of drugs to the Pacific Ocean — directly or through Ecuador — and on to Mexico, Central America, and the United States. Its dense jungles provide cover for laboratories to make cocaine. Its coastal mangrove estuaries provide innumerable hiding spots for boats transshipping drugs. (They also hide “semi-submersibles:” homemade submarines, usually pulled behind a boat, that carry tons of cocaine at a time and are difficult to detect.) As coca cultivation migrated to Tumaco during the early 2000s, the municipality became a center of cocaine cultivation, production, and transshipment -– one of few territories where all phases of the cocaine production process take place simultaneously.

For their part, large landowners saw vast expanses of well-watered, undeveloped land ideal for large-scale, capital-intensive agribusiness. These include profitable products like African oil palm and cattle ranching. The oil palm — used increasingly in biofuels — experienced a boom during the mid-2000s, along with massive land purchases, until a blight destroyed most of Tumaco’s crop.

While landowners began encroaching on the Community Councils’ territories, the profitable coca trade proved to be a temptation to many of the Councils’ residents. UNODC has found (PDF page 62) coca-growers earning a net income of perhaps US$10-12 per day — about double the minimum wage in Colombia’s formal economy, and better than most cash crops offer. Its product, a highly portable paste that traffickers later refine into cocaine, is far easier to market in roadless territories.

With the coca boom, however, came a far greater presence of illegal armed groups whose presence in Tumaco had been only sporadic before. In fact, while economics enticed some to grow coca, many others have been forced to plant the crop by the guerrillas or paramilitaries who held sway in their territories.

The FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia) and ELN (National Liberation Army) guerrilla groups started out raising funds to buy guns by taxing coca growers, but soon went on to participate in production and trafficking. They built up their presence in the municipality during the late 1990s and early 2000s. Guerrillas, especially the FARC’s 29th front, began killing community leaders whom they viewed as threats to their dominion, extorted funds from business owners, and controlled communities’ movements along the rivers.

The guerrillas had little competition from Colombia’s state, which was barely present in Tumaco beyond a few military and police posts and a badly corrupt municipal government. Government representatives spent very little time outside the county seat, leaving the forgotten communities along the rivers at the armed groups’ mercy.

The drug trade’s wealth then attracted an illegal armed group from the other side: the pro-government, drug funded paramilitary network known as the United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia, or AUC. The AUC’s so-called Liberators of the South Bloc, headed by Guillermo Pérez Alzate, who went by the name “Pablo Sevillano,” moved into the zone after 2000. As in other zones of guerrilla influence, the newly arrived paramilitaries carried out a brutal wave of hundreds of extrajudicial killings and massacres of those they believed to be guerrilla collaborators. The violence displaced tens of thousands of people to Tumaco’s town center and to cities elsewhere in the country, while thousands more crossed the border into Ecuador. For their part, Colombia’s security forces combated “Pablo Sevillano’s” men only on the rarest of occasions.

After pushing the coca economy from Putumayo, Plan Colombia followed the coca crops to Tumaco. The U.S. and Colombian governments’ initial response to Tumaco’s drug and violence crisis was not to strengthen the state’s presence in the municipality. Instead, Plan Colombia offered a sharp increase in aerial herbicide fumigation over the Community Councils’ collectively held lands. Nariño, led by Tumaco, has been by far the most fumigated of Colombia’s 32 departments during the past ten years.

"People gave up ... leaving their own land abandoned." from Adam Isacson on Vimeo.


Víctor Quiñones of the Chagüí Community Council, whose USAID-funded development project was repeatedly fumigated.

The fumigation came with alternative development programs, financed by USAID and other donors. These covered only a small portion of the affected communities, though, and could do little in a context of statelessness, lack of transportation, uncertain land tenure, and out-of-control violence. Worse, the U.S.–backed Colombian National Police fumigation program has insisted on spraying any coca plants it detects, meaning that alternative development projects funded by USAID have routinely been sprayed merely because of the proximity of coca plants.

Despite large-scale fumigation, coca growing has proved stubborn in Tumaco. This is largely a result of the state’s absence from most of the territory and the lack of other economic alternatives for growers. So when the U.S. and Colombian governments begin pursuing Consolidation — a strategy that explicitly seeks to build up the government’s on-the-ground presence — Tumaco appeared to be a prime candidate.

Despite that, our attempt to evaluate Consolidation’s performance in Tumaco was more challenging than we expected. The main problem was that nobody in the municipality seemed to know what we were talking about, even though Consolidation had officially been functioning and present in Tumaco since 2008.

In other parts of the country, Consolidation is also often known as CCAI, after the name of the agency in the Colombian Presidency (Center for the Coordination of Integrated Action) that manages it. In Tumaco, however, when we asked civil society leaders about the CCAI (pronounced “Say-Kigh”), they responded, “What kind of fruit is that?” A top municipal government official told us of having received e-mail about the program and hearing nothing since, until the CCAI held a meeting in early April.

The CCAI "Coordination Center" in Tumaco.

We paid a visit to the CCAI headquarters for Tumaco: it is a room with desks, computer equipment and maps at a beachside hotel complex heavily used by police and contractors involved with coca-eradication missions. The office is meant to coordinate all government agencies’ activities to establish a presence in the zone; the Tumaco “coordination center,” however, appeared to have only a handful of staff and a very small administrative footprint.

Unlike La Macarena — a zone where the United States has helped finance hundreds of millions of dollars in military offensives and development projects — Tumaco has seen very little investment in the Consolidation framework. Instead, the activities the United States is actually paying for in Tumaco look more like the same Plan Colombia programs of a decade ago.

As in Putumayo circa 2002, fumigation is massive, while alternative development projects lag behind in stateless, insecure areas. Building up a civilian, institutional state presence on the ground is still a faraway goal toward which little progress is notable, even in the town center.

When fumigation eliminates growers’ legal crops or food crops, food security assistance is rarely available. Local human rights and development workers affirmed that a significant portion of those who displace from Tumaco’s Afro Colombian communities today are fleeing repeated fumigation.

Why has “Consolidation” stumbled at the starting gate in Tumaco? The main reason is resources. Its far-flung geography makes Tumaco very hard to govern, and its high poverty and indigence rates mean that needs are greater. A proper Consolidation program in Tumaco would require an immense amount of funding, a large multiple of what USAID, other donors and the Colombian treasury are currently providing. The United States has not planned to invest such resources in Tumaco — a great shame considering the amount that the United States has invested in forced eradication — and Colombia’s government has done little to fill the gap.

"The sense of brotherhood returned" from Adam Isacson on Vimeo.


Leaders of the Las Varas community exude optimism.

To date, the significant exception appears to be a program begun by the Nariño governor’s office called “Si Se Puede” (Yes We Can). This is a small program –- the governor’s office, in the hands of a leftist opposition party under Governor Antonio Navarro Wolff, a former leader of the disbanded M-19 guerrillas –- is strapped for cash and heavily indebted. Nonetheless, the Si Se Puede program did answer positively to a request for development financing from the leaders of one Afro-Colombian Community Council in Tumaco: the community of Rescate-Las Varas.

Here, in exchange for the community’s willingness to eradicate their own coca, the government is offering assistance with USAID support. Farmers are getting food-security aid as they switch to legal cash craps like cacao, coconuts, managed forestry, fish farming and others. The successful eradication of most coca in Las Varas is leading local officials to consider the community a model. Local coordinators of the CCAI in Tumaco say they plan to work with the Las Varas community to guarantee further investment and to extend the model elsewhere in Tumaco.

This expectation to provide future support was the main concrete example we heard of the Consolidation program’s activity in Tumaco. As Governor Navarro (and likely his party) leave office at the end of this year, the sustainability of the government’s commitment to Las Varas is in question. Consolidation may have to pick up where “Sí Se Puede” left off.

This may be far more difficult than it sounds. The community's trust in the government remains fragile, and relationships forged with the governor's office may not be easily transferrable to a new entity. Meanwhile the Las Varas community faces friction with other Community Councils uncomfortable with its embrace of the state or unhappy that they are not receiving similar investment.

The Consolidation program is proceeding haltingly in conditions that continue to be among the least secure in the country. Indeed, the Las Varas community has suffered the death of six or seven village leaders (depending on whether or not some were accidents or homicides) as a result of their choice to abandon coca and work with the state. The FARC guerrillas remain very active in Tumaco and neighboring municipalities, participating in the drug trade, targeting local leaders, particularly indigenous leaders, attacking military and police targets, and making travel difficult on the few existing secondary and tertiary roads.

"Nobody can move around here, not even to fish." from Adam Isacson on Vimeo.


Two anonymous sources, indicating points on a map, talk about security conditions in Tumaco.

Further downriver and along the coast itself, one finds the heirs of the AUC paramilitary group, which disbanded officially in 2006. (Pablo Sevillano, the head of the AUC’s Liberators of the South Bloc, is now in a U.S. prison serving time for drug trafficking.) Former mid-level AUC commanders now control smaller groups that exist mainly for the drug trade, but still regularly threaten local leaders and engage in land theft. These so-called “emerging criminal groups” are popping up all over the country. Many reportedly have little to fear from the police and military, though this is usually a result of corruption, not alliance. Some in fact do drug business with the FARC guerrillas, and often fight each other for territory.

In Tumaco, the “new” paramilitary group that appears to have wrested control from the others is called Los Rastrojos (the word refers to what is left behind after a harvest), which is one of the most powerful of the new groups nationwide. The Rastrojos now control most riverine traffic in coastal Tumaco, especially the boatloads of cocaine that continue to leave the zone. The FARC, however, do continue to control some rivers and corridors, and joint guerrilla-paramilitary drug shipments have been detected.

The security situation in Tumaco remains dire. Most people we talked to, regardless of their social sector, were reluctant to talk at length about the perpetrators of the zone’s violence and narcotrafficking. Some authorities, however, said that the number of incidents of murder and other violent crime had dropped since the middle of last year; this, they suspect, may be a result of the Rastrojos’ defeat of their paramilitary rivals and assumption of greater territorial control. Tumaco’s trafficking routes may be somewhat less contested than before, and the FARC — with the exception of some recent kidnapping-for-ransom attempts in the city center — are largely forced to operate upriver, further from the coast.

The government response to the Rastrojos remains unclear. As in other parts of the country, the armed forces tend to consider them primarily to be a police responsibility. Colombia’s police forces, however, are meant to operate in urban areas (with the exception of small, specialized units like Carabineros or Junglas). When they operate in rural zones, as they usually do, the Rastrojos end up in a “doughnut hole” of security-force responsibility: they are in the jurisdiction of army and marine units who consider them primarily to be a police issue. This is compounded by a chronic lack of coordination between the armed forces and police.

Amid this panorama of violence and narcotrafficking, the Consolidation or Integrated Action effort has barely begun. Tumaco’s challenges make it difficult to determine where to start, especially when U.S. and Colombian government funding hasn’t been generous.

The Colombian government is currently evaluating or rethinking the national Consolidation effort. When the government announces the results of this rethinking — probably in June — these will include a reduction in the number of “Consolidation” zones from the current fourteen. Several zones will see their CCAI offices close, and promises of state presence and investment will go unfulfilled. The remaining zones, however, will presumably see far greater investment than before.

It is likely that Tumaco will remain in the national Consolidation scheme. If so, perhaps a year or two from now Tumaco’s local leaders will have heard and seen enough of Consolidation to be able to evaluate the program and gauge its impact on their communities — which to date has been nearly zero.

This is a "first take" on our trip to Tumaco written by WOLA Senior Associate Adam Isacson. We'll soon post observations from other participants in this visit and one we took to the La Macarena Consolidation zone. We'll be visiting La Macarena and other Consolidation sites again in a few months, and publishing joint reports about each.

12.15.2010

Mis discos de diciembre: Vos me debés y La fuga

Siempre diciembre es la época cuando se prenden los equipos en Colombia, sobre todo en el litoral Pacífico. Algunos discos que ojalá sonarán en cualquier equipo donde yo esté en este diciembre.

Chévere que el currulao está empezando a tener sentido de pertenencia en Cali, tanto así que los salseros de Son de Cali han sacado un currulao:

También para tirar risa, el nerdo sabroso Jiggy Drama ha sacado un disco que una enciclopedia del soble sentido - La fuga. ("Quieres ver gas o ver gotas?")

De ñapa, aunque sea más viejo. Ya que estamos riendo, el payaso príncipe del rock colombiano, Velandia y La Tigra:

6.05.2010

Pansori

Kind of on a pansori kick these days - I wish I understood Korean so I could get this pretty narrative musical genre in the way it's intended. Even so, the emotion is so raw, and the vocal technique so amazing, that I'm hooked even without the narrative meaning. I managed to scratch the pansori itch, at least a bit, by finding the 1993 movie, Seopyeonje (a surprise hit in Korea given its focus on this old-fashioned music) in its entirety - and with English subtitles - on YouTube. A few scenes from the movie:


There are some great videos of pansori masters on YouTube, but I also like this joker's mashup with a movie about an 18th century Italian castrato - very silly:

6.03.2010

Classic 1962 ska video

I couldn't resist putting up this 1962 video of ska at Kingston's uptown Club Sombrero with backing band Byron Lee and the Dragonaires, and a hard-skanking cast of hundreds.



Incidentally, I peeped this video at the website of London-based DJ Hugo Mendes, who recently compiled and put out this killer compilation CD called "Tumbélé!" with biguine, afro & latin music from the Guadeloupe and Martinique c. 1963-74 which has had me pretty much hard-skanking around the apto. the last few days myself.

10.31.2009

hey mr bombo, el pueblo ta bien cabriao



DJ BLACK CHUCHA DE SU MADRE LYRICS
tiempo del pique
hey mr bombo, el pueblo ta bien cabriao
de este negro... black wutan clan!

coro
esta es la cancion del xuxa de su madre
dedicado pa los xuxa de su madre
pa q lo suenen como xuxa de su madre
y se pege de aki hasta la xuxa de su madre
(bis2)

dice letra..

En el pais hay un problema bn xuxa de su madre
que nos tiene hasta la xuxa de se madre
y trabajamos como xuxa de su madre
pa resivir un sueldo bien xuxa de su madre
y cada 4 años se aparece un xuxa de su madre
prometiendo como xuxa de su madre
pidiendo voto como xuxa de su madre
VOTEN POR MI!.. xuxa de su madre
pero en la asamblea si hay xuxa de su madre
que no hacen na x ningun xuxa de su madre
se olvido de todos los xuxa de su madre´
y se roba la plata hey xuxa de su madre


coro
esta es la cancion del xuxa de su madre
dedicado pa los xuxa de su madre
pa q lo suenen como xuxa de su madre
y se pege de aki hasta la xuxa de su madre

oye lo q me paso a la 1 de la mañana

espero taxi como un mismo xuxa de su madre
y x se negro no me llevan los xuxa de su madre
y a los lejos se me acercan los xuxa de su madre
CEDULA CIUDADANO xuxa de su madre
me llevan pa el cuartel los xuxa de su madre
me sueltan a las 4 los xuxa de su madre
llego a mi ksa y la xuxa de su madre
de mi mujer tu tabas con una xuxa de su madre

coro
esta es la cancion del xuxa de su madre
dedicado pa los xuxa de su madre
pa q lo suenen como xuxa de su madre
y se pege de aki hasta la xuxa de su madre

en el pais hay un problema bn xuxa de su madrE
el seguro hasta la xuxa de su madre
los doctores asiendo huelga los xuxa de su madre
dietilendlicol xuxa de su madre
mato un poco de viejo el xuxa de su madre
y los taxi hasta la xuxa de su madre
hasta los buses se prenden xuxa de su madre
hay no meten preso a nigun xuxa de su madre
sige el transporte hasta la xuxa de su madre
gasolina hasta la xuxa de su madre
la comida hasta la xuxa de su madre
y el salario del ghetto! hasta la xuxa de su madre

coro
esta es la cancion del xuxa de su madre
dedicado pa los xuxa de su madre
pa q lo suenen como xuxa de su madre
y se pege de aki hasta la xuxa de su madre
(bis2)

el pais esta creciendo hasta la xuxa de su madre
rantan de edificio como la xuxa de su madre
q lindo q bonito los xuxa de su madre
y kien va a vivi hay? los xuxa de su madre brother
esto ta hasta la xuxa de su madre
to mundo sufre como un xuxa de su madre
el pobre mas pobre hasta la xuxa de su madre
justica pa el pueblo!! xuxa de su madre
tamos kabriao hasta la xuxa de su madre
sufriendo como xuxa de su madre
llorando como la xuxa de su madre
trabajando como xuxa de su madre
echando pa lante como un xuxa de su madre

ya tu sabes..
y si te menciono en todas las listas
de lo malo q pasa
una lista q ta mas larga q xuxa de su madre

el mismo black
el negro del sason

9.03.2008

"Cuantas personas mataban, tocaban los tambores" / "Every time they killed someone, they played drums"

Testimonio horroroso del masacre de unas 40 personas de febrero 2000 in El Salado, Bolívar, no tan lejos de Cartagena. A los 2:39 cuentan que los victimarios tocaban gaita con los instrumentos del group de la Casa de la Cultura del pueblo cada vez que mataban. Un escalofriante revés de la idea de la música para la paz.

Horrific testimony of the massacre of some 40 people in Febrary 2000 in El Salado, Bolívar, Colombia, not afar from Cartagena. At 2:39, a woman recalls that the murderers played traditional gaita music with the instruments of the town folkloric group as they killed. A chilling reversal of the idea of music for peace. English transcript below the video.


Questioner: How did the massacre happen here?

Witness: They took everyone out here to this soccer field. By the church were some bleachers, that is where they made everyone sit. They would point to people there and take them away. They took them to be killed right here [pointing]. Those whom they hacked to death, those whom they killed with lead [shot], were taken from there. Some bodies were taken to the church and laid out on tables. After there was no room, the rest of the bodies were left here in the open, out in the sun. Later, the smell was unbearable. So they had us dig a common grave, there, where the monument is. They were thrown in there in sheets, wrapped in sheets.

Q: In one grave, there was room for 3 or 4 people?

W: In the same grave, yes. And they were unrecognizable. We recognized them only from the clothes they were wearing. And we didn’t know, because the families had fled from the town, where there was anyone who could identify the body from the clothes, some sweater or something. They were unrecognizable. When we brought them over there, we nearly fainted because the smell was so strong. We used alcohol, cologne, soaked in cloths over our faces, but it just wasn’t enough.

Q: How many days did this take?

W: This began… it lasted three days … part of four.

Q: With El Salado so close to El Carmen, why was there no reaction from the security forces?

W: That is what we all ask ourselves. I fled to El Carmen del Bolívar, to ask for help. The mayor wouldn’t listen to us. I called the national and international Red Cross, everything I could. I was already desperate when the people arrived from Bogotá, from Venezuela, from everywhere, and they asked me, “you escaped?” I said yes. And I told them about everyone they had killed. … But by then, the deed was done, by then it was the fourth day. They had already gone, by that night.

Q: One question - It has been said that in the video that the Prosecutor-General’s office has, that they talk about drums, that they were playing music.

Second Witness: Yes, that is true. The drums were kept there, in the Casa del Pueblo. That was [the instruments] of some gaita [traditional music, related to cumbia] thet we had here., that were donated. I can tell you because I saw it. Everytime they killed someone, they played the drums, the flutes. That was true.

Q: They were sober, or were they drunk?

SW: Well, some seemed sober, but others appeared to be on drugs, because of the way they acted, the way they killed people, and played music. A few seemed well, but the others, yes, must have been on something.

Q: How did they kill people? With bullets?

SW: Yes, some with bullets. Some were hung, one was beaten to death. Some they tortured, ears cut off while still alive, fingers from hands, later they put a garbage bag over their heads, still alive and screaming for help. But we were just a few people, what could we do.

Q: You all saw this?

SW: I did. I saw the whole thing from the beginning until they left the town.

Q: And why did they torture those people so much?

SW: Well, what I heard, they were saying that they were guerrillas. That’s what they explained to us.

Q: Those paramilitaries, were they known, had you seen them here before?

SW: No, I never had.

From Semana.com via CIP
De Semana.com por CIP

8.17.2008

Petronio virtual

Felicidades al periódico caleño El Pais por su excelente página sobre el Petronio, con videos fotos, programación y todo aquí (para los que no podemos estar).

Congratulations to the Cali newspaper El País for their page on the Petronio, with videos, photos, schedule, and everything here (for those of us that missed the Petronio.)

Update: Viéndolo con más cuidado... cierto que pusieron una categoría para música nortecaucana? Por fin!!
Looking over the site, did they add a category for music from Norte del Cauca? Finally!

Update 2: Tienen ringtones y wallpaper para descargar (no me gusta el mico tocando marimba, pero dejémoslo ahí) - las cosas van muy rápido para una música que no se había grabado comercialmente hace apenas 8 años.
They have ringtones and wallpaper to down load (with a monkey playing marimba, but the less said the better) - WTF! Things are moving very fast for a music which hadn't ever been commerciallt recorded only 8 years ago...

7.24.2008

Colombia en concierto - Videos sobre música tradicional en El Tiempo

El Tiempo ha publicado un recorrido virtual en video por algunas músicas folklóricas del país, entre ellas la música de marimba (con los Torres en Guapi, el grupo Ancestros de Estéban Copete en Cali, y un señor que inventó una baterimba en Santander de Quilichao); la chirimía chocoana en Quibdó; el bullerengue (en Cartagena y el son palenquero en San Basilio); y el calipso sanandresano; todas músicas practicadas por los afrodescendientes colombianos, al lado de otras músicas como la llanera, la carranga, el vallenato, la música masificada de Medellín, y supuestamente la música amazónica, pero no funciona el video. Anyway... aquí está en enlace.

6.14.2008

Aymara Rap as racism in Bolivia heats up / Rap Aymara y racismo boliviano



Mitad Tupac Shakur, mitad Tupac Amaru, y más necesario que nunca con los abusos que se están cometiendo actualmente en Bolivia.

Half Tupac Shakur, half Tupac Amaru, all the more necessary given the madness that going down in Bolivia these days.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, check the links:
Si no sabés de que estoy hablando, chequeate los enlaces:

Link (Article in English/Artículo en inglés)
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2.10.2008

Punk Paisa, c. 1990

Fértil Miseria is a punk rock band from the Medellín classic 90s scene. They're still at it. Here they are in the early 90s.

Fértil Miseria es una banda punquera de la época dorada del punk paisa. Siguen tocando toadavía. Aquí están en los 90"




In this video, they talk about what they want to be doing in 20 years (as in now.) Turns out they were right.

In este video hablan de qué quieren estar haciendo en 20 años, o sea ahora. Resulta que es tal como dijeron.






Update: I found this thing on Filipino 80s punk on MySpace, so check that out too, it's pretty hot.

¿Qué es Creative Commons?

¿Qué es Creative Commons? ¿Qué me importa? Este video explica.

12.09.2007

Torbellino Pacífico

El torbellino del Pacífico parece ser un género de adopción más reciente que los más ancestrales sub-géneros de bambuco que ahora llamamos "currulao," por la manera un poco no característico que tiene la marimba de marcar los 6 golpes del compás (a diferencia de los otros, que suelen meter un dosillo o una pausa o lago). Juan Sebastián Ochoa nota la similitud que el estilo del canto en el torbellino tiene con la rajaleña andina, y sugiere que el torbellino del Pacífico es sencillamente otra manera de "tunar" la rajaleña. Todo esto muestra que el Pacífico, a pesar de su aislación y la marginalización de su población, tiene una historia de relación con otras formas culturales - no es ni ha sido estático o carente de historia. Teorización aparte, no sé qué cosa es el torbellino pero estoy más que seguro que es hermoso. Aquí está el Maestro Gualajo tocando y cantando un torbellino en el 2003.

The "torbellino" of the PAcific appears to be a more recently adopted genre than the older sub-genres of bambuco that today we call "currulao," because of the distinctive way the marimba, unlike the other genres, marks all six beats in the measure. Juan Sebastián Ochoa notes that the singing style links it to the Andean rajaleña genre. This shows that the Pacific, despite its isolation and the marginalization of its people, has a history of relations with other cultural forms; it is not nor has it ever been static or lacking in history.
Theorization aside, I don't know what the torbellino is for sure, except that it's absolutely gorgeous. Here's Maestro Gualajo playing a torbellino in 2003.

12.08.2007

Murió Stockhausen is dead

In tribute to the composer Karlheinz Stockhausen, who died on Wednesday, a nice lecture and a kinda dorky interview.

En homenaje al compositor Karlheinz Stockhausen, muerto el miércoles, coloqué una charla académica y una entrevista. Ambos son en inglés, pero la entrevista (el segundo video) tiene unos sonidos e imágenes de la obra de Stockhausen, como el cuarteto para cuerdas y helicópteros.

11.30.2007

Más videos/More videos

"Mariecita" me dejó comentario que también tiene videos de música del Pacífico en youtube. Y es verdad - tiene Bahía Trio y otras cosas del Petronio, e inclusive los Van Van. Aquí está el link.

"Mariecita" left a comment that she has some videos on you tube, too. She has the amazing Bahía Trio and some other things from the Petronio, and even los Van Van. Here's the link.

11.15.2007

Videos de Currulao/Currulao videos

I put up some new currulao videos on you tube and discovered that a lot of good ones have gone up recently - a year ago, there were maybe six.
Subí unos videos de currulao a youtube y descubrí que hay unos videos muy buenos que han sido colocoado ahí en los últimos 3 meses - hace un año hubo como seis.

Lo que yo he colocado son del cíclo de conciertos "Noches de Colombia" que tuvo lugar en el Teatro Colón en Bogotá en el año 1981 o 1982 y incluyó grupos de todo país. Eso fue un espacio muy importante para los grupos del Pacífico. Los primeros tres videos son del grupo Los Bogas del Pacífico, que eran en su mayoría guapireños residentes en Buenaventura y Cali. Entre el personal se destacan el "finao" Antonio Banguera, padre de Pacho, antes cununero de Naidy, ahora bombero del grupo Gualajo, y el homenajeado en el primer CD de Naidy ("Este es un homanaje a todos los marimberos del Pacífico... Toca un bambuco viejo, Gualajo, Carajo!"). El Maestro Gualajo, joven y bigotudo también aparece. La cantadora Dalia Valencia, también fallecida, muy recordada en Guapi aparece, puede ser que ésta es la única grabación de ella que existe, al igual que peaje del maestro Antonio. También aparecen Samuel Caicedo y Oliva Arboleda, ahora docentes en la Universidad Libre y figuras importantes en la música del Pacífico en Cali. Dos personas ahora más conocidos como músicos en el gremio también aparecen como bailarines: Maky López, director del Grupo Naidy, y su hermnao Juan Eliécer, director del Grupo Kenyatta. Si ustedes reconocen algún otro personaje aquí, favor de dejar un comentario.

What I've uploaded is from the Noches de Colombia concert series that was held in Bogotá's Teatro Colón in 1981 or 1982, and included groups from al over the country. This was a very importnat space for groups from the Pacific. The first three videos are of the group Los Bogas del Pacífico, mostly from Guapi, via Buenaventura and Cali. Among the members are the deceased marimbero Antonio Banguera, a young Maestro Gualajo, dancers Samuel Caicedo and Oliva Arboleda, and the also deceased and very well-remembered singer, Dalia Valencia. As young dancers, the musicians Maky López (of Grupo Naidy) and Juan Eliécer López (Grupo Kenyatta) also appear.

Me disculpan por el sonido que es muy bajito.
Sorry the sound is so low.


Currulao:


Montaje/Skit: Bunde "El Barrer," Juga "Camarón Muchillá": In this skit, a group of fisherman runs into a group of women, and they decide to have a party. They sing a bunde "El barrer" (sweeping) but then decide that you can't start a party with bunde, and sing a juga called "Camarón Muchillá," the Crawfish.


La Batea, referring to traditional gold-mining practices:


El Pilón, referring to the traditional way rice is shelled:


Otros grupos también participaron en Noches de Colombia. A este grupo, el Grupo Danzas Folklóricas del Pacífico, no lo distingo, tal vez por su muy genérico nombre. Si conocen algún músico o si tienen información al respecto, favor de dejar un comentario.

Other groups also participated. This one has the very generic name of Grupo Danzas Folklóric as del Pacífico.

Aquí tocan la Bámbara Negra, una danza muy particular con sus pañuelos entrelazados, y parte de los arrullos celebrados en el contexto religioso. El activista e intelectual afrocolombiano (ya fallecido) Amir Smith Córdoba decía que es una danza de resistencia y que contenía códigos para lograr la fuga. Es posible, pero yo lo he visto más en ese contecto religioso (vea abajo el video de Epifanía en San José Timbiquí):

Here the play the Bámbara Negra, a very particular dance with its intertwining handkerchiefs, part of the religious ceremonies called "arrullos." The Afro-Colombian activist-intellectual Amir Smith-Córdoba held that this was a dance of resistance that carried a secret code to help slaves escape, but from what I've seen its more tied to the religious context of the arrullo (see, for example, the video of Epiphany in Timbiquí below):


El mismo grupo ejecuta la Caderona/The "Caderona" dance, dedicated to a big-hipped woman:


También tuve el timpeo para subir a youtube este video de un grupo chocoano, Grupo Danzas y Cantos del Chocó Jota Careada.

I also had time to upload a Chocoano Chirimía playing a Jota Careada:


El mismo grupo hace un Makerule. Si no conocen la historia del Makerule (o Maquerule), es una historia muy bonita.
The same group plays and dances a Maquerule, which is an interesting story about an English-speaking Antillean black baker who settles in Chocó, opens a bakery, and goes broke selling on credit:


Éste es un fragmento de un documental de Telepacífico (de los 90) sobre las celebraciones del día de Epifanía en San José, vereda de Timbiquí. Uno de los muy pocos documentos profesionalmente hechos de un arrullo tradicional en su contexto. Muy valioso y super-recomendado - tenemos que acordarnos que esto no se trata solamente de música, sino de unas prácticas sonoras muy integradas con la cotinianidad del Pacífico, tanto de lo religioso como de lo profano.

This is a fragment of a documentary about the celebration of Epiphany in a town called San José on the Timbiquí River from the mid-90s. This is one of the very few non-staged representations of Afro-Pacific religiosity that I've seen, in particular the ceremony called arrullo. A real gem (except for the hokey music at the beginning):


La familia Torres - don Genaro, Pacho, Celestina, y Conrado - viven un poco arriba del pueblo de Guapi (Cauca) en una parte llamada Sansón. Ellos (con su hermano, José Antonio "Gualajo" y su padre José) salieron en el documental "La Marimba de los Espíritus" del programa Yuruparí, y son reconocidos como cultores muy importantes, aunque siguen viviendo en humildad en su rancho en Sansón. Vale la pena chequear los otros videos de música del Atlántico que ha colocado la persona que subió este video a youtube, aunque cabe reconocer que con tantos micrófonos que tiene puesto en este video, el sonido sale un sancocho completo (de pronto es culpa de youtube).

Here's the Torres family up the river a bit from the town of Guapi. The person who put this video up has some other great stuff from the Atlantic coast, although I must say that despite all the microphones s/he put up, the sound in this video is not so great. Maybe it's youtube's fault.



Aquí hay otro video de la misma persona, ahora del marimbero Dioselino Rodríguez en la San Francisco, vereda de Guapi.

Another video from the same person, here of a marimbero a little further up the river in a place called San Francisco:


The rest are other youtube videos. You could just search on "currulao" in youtube, but there's a lot of dubious stuff that comes up, so here's a few other recommended ones.

Los de más videos con otros de youtube. Claro que los encuentras si buscas "currulao" en youtube, pero hay unas cosas un poco raras ahí, entonces he aquí algunos de los recomendados:

Grupo Buscajá (pos-Aquino):

y


Unos compañeros en Washington DC, el Grupo Tangaré/some friends living in DC, Grupo Tangaré:


El Maestro Gualajo en Bogotá/Gualajo in Bogotá:

y

11.06.2007

Kuduro, qui na mata

The growth of electronic musics in the global South continues. This is Kuduro music from Angola, the song is "Qui no mata," a song that you can dance even if you've got one leg, a huge wedgie, are 10 years old, or think your shoe is a phone. Interesting that the old break-dance, uprock, and pop and lock moves have lasted so long...

La música electrónica sigue creciendo en el Sur global. Esta es música Kuduro de Angola, el disco se llama "Qui no mata," y se puede llamar incluso si tenés una sola pierna, una laika impresionate, 10 años, o una condición mental que te hace confundir tu zapato con un celular. Bacanísimo esto. También hace pensar - tan increíble que los estilos del viejo breakdance han perdurado tanto tiempo...



In this video, Tony Amado explains (in Portuguese) the origins of Kuduro - a wicked combination of the Fruity Loops computer program and Jean-Claude van Damme dancing in a movie.

En este video, Tony Amado explica (en portugués) los orígenes del Kuduro, una combinación del software Fruity Loops y una coreografía de Jean-Claude van Damme.

The creation of Kuduro by Tony Amado

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