I N T E R V I E W S

Sunday 24 January 2010

QUE CRUDO LO TENEMOS

ENTREVISTA Al PERIODISTA Y DOCUMUENTALISTA ESPAÑOL
PABLO TORRES




Por José Roversi


La historia de esta entrevista se remonta a dos décadas atrás. De niño detestaba los vegetales: No tragaba los calabacines mórbidos, sin contextura; tampoco podía pasar las acelgas y las espinacas destruidas por la acción combustiva del fuego. Rápidamente, y contrariando la sabia opinión de mi madre, concluí que no me gustaban los vegetales. Sin embargo, las frutas si que me gustaban, especialmente los “cambures” (bananas), los tomates, el aguacate y las fresas. Nunca se me ocurrió preguntarme porque me agradaban las frutas frescas y en cambio no los vegetales cocidos.

Muchos años han pasado, muchas experiencias, mucho ensayo y error. En fin, mucha búsqueda. La necesidad de conocerme, de tratar de experimentarme y sentir me fueron llevando, lentamente, al mundo de la alimentación y el ejercicio. Resulta que no tenía ni idea ni de lo uno ni de lo otro. Y tenía 32 años…

En ese proceso de interesarme, de querer saber mas sobre la forma en que nos alimentamos (o dejamos de hacerlo) llegué a un documental original y diferente, dirigido por el periodista español Pablo Torres. A Pablo le había visto presentar, desde los lugares mas remotos del planeta, uno de esos programas de viajes que son cada vez mas populares en las cadenas de España y del mundo. Una ocupación soñada, llena de aventura y color, pensé.

Que Crudo lo Tenemos (2009) es un trabajo tan personal, tan honesto y pleno de energía, tan potente, que sin saber absolutamente nada sobre su autor, tuve la sensación de ya conocerlo.

No se trataba solo de la dieta Crudivegana (vegetarianismo crudo); no se trataba solo de alguien que se embarca en un viaje de autoconocimiento; no se trataba únicamente de un discurso bien hilvanado, fresco, entretenido; ni de una película novedosa, en parajes exóticos y con personajes fuera de lo común; era otra cosa; algo verdaderamente había capturado mi atención: se trataba, realmente, de mi. Y de todos…

Al inicio de Que Crudo lo Tenemos su director, Pablo Torres, advierte: “Este documental no pretende convencer a nadie de nada. El único objetivo es mostrar una experiencia personal que, quizás, pueda serle útil”.

Efectivamente, así es…




Tu documental inicia con la confesión-reflexión de alguien que parece estar en el umbral de una nueva etapa de vida: “Tras seis años en este medio (TV), algo dentro de mí me decía que tenían que haber otros caminos mas saludables para ganarse la vida. Hasta que mi rebeldía acabó con el despido. ¿Una pena no? Pues no, quizás, lo mejor que me podría haber pasado”. ¿Cómo fue ese proceso de concienciación y renovación? ¿Qué factores lo facilitaron y qué factores lo obstaculizaron? ¿Qué se siente saber que se está produciendo un cambio en ti y que este es trascendente, positivo?

Ese proceso de concienciación supongo que empezó desde que nací aunque mi etapa en la televisión me hizo preguntarme muchas cosas en mi vida. ¿Por qué tengo que contar cosas negativas cuando me interesan más las positivas? ¿Por qué estoy trabajando por un sueldo con el que sólo hago pagar letras y no tengo ni un duro a final de mes? ¿Es que realmente no hay otros caminos para vivir de forma más relajada? ¿Estoy produciendo la cantidad de dinero que me están pagando? Así que con estas preguntas rodando mi cabeza se me ocurrió la idea de crear un sindicato televisivo ya que todavía a día de hoy no existe ninguno que defienda a los trabajadores andaluces del sector, por lo menos no tengo noticias de él. Ojalá me equivocara. Con esa propuesta bajo el brazo hablé con el dueño de la empresa y al día siguiente recibí la notificación del despido improcedente. El despido fue un obstáculo que facilitó mi proceso de concienciación. Nunca lo tomé como algo malo, cuando una puerta se cierra cientos de ellas se abren.

Al ser consciente de algunos de los cambios que se producen en mi vida los sentimientos se intensifican, por lo menos en mi experiencia personal. Estoy aprendiendo a sentir de otra manera descubriendo hasta dónde puede llegar mi poder personal para favorecer a la comunidad, con todo lo bueno y lo malo que eso conlleve por el camino. Dicen que al final todos los caminos llevan a Roma, que es AMOR al revés. Las señales siempre están ahí, sólo es cuestión de interpretarlas.





En Asia, como un viajero sin rumbo fijo en busca de una temática que exploraren en un documental, conoces a Balta Lorenzo: crudívoro, rebelde, carismático y emprendedor. ¿Cómo fue ese encuentro? ¿Qué impacto tuvo sobre ti?

No fue exactamente en Asia donde conocí a Balta. La primera vez que escuché de él fue a través de unos amigos franceses, crudívoros y vecinos de mi tío. Estando en su finca, estos amigos me comentaron que a lo mejor viajaban a Asia con Balta en las mismas fechas en las que yo tenía previsto viajar. En ese entonces estaba buscando temática y fui a la finca de mi tío para asimilar ciertas cosas que estaban pasando en mi vida. La señal fue evidente, me tocaba hacer un documental sobre crudivorsimo o, por lo menos, intentarlo. Ese mismo día me invitaron a una fiesta de crudívoros que se celebraba en La Cascada (Sierra de Ojén, Andalucía), finca en la que vive Balta. No quise perder la oportunidad. Al ver por primera vez a ese hombre de gesto aparentemente serio con su barba y su pelo blanco y en pelotas, comiendo fruta en medio de la naturaleza, desde un punto de vista periodístico entendí que había una historia con contar. Una vez que llegué a Asia nos conectamos ya que él estaba viajando por allí y durante un mes conocimos parte de Tailandia, Malasia e Indonesia. Un viaje muy divertido y enriquecedor. Después estuve otros dos meses más viajando solo y grabando ahí por donde el destino me quisiese llevar. No había un plan previsto.

Sobre el impacto que Balta ha supuesto en mi persona podríamos estar escribiendo folios; a través de su persona y junto a él he vivido experiencias increíbles que han marcado mi vida. Es su ser muy especial y me ha hecho recapacitar sobre muchos asuntos, sobre todo, a nivel alimenticio. Le agradezco la energía que desprende en comunicar su mensaje al mundo.



¿Cuánto tiempo requirió la realización de Que Crudo lo Tenemos? ¿Es un proyecto completamente personal, realizado en su totalidad por ti, o contaste con la ayuda de otros profesionales?

Yo pienso que el documental empezó a fraguarse el mismo día que conocí a Balta. Hubo un proceso de investigación sobre el tema, leí libros, me informé sobre personas que habían practicado esta dieta, planteé preguntas, etc. Luego vino el proceso de grabación, visionado del material y montaje. En total casi dos años. Ha sido un proyecto personal; la financiación ha sido íntegra mía salvo la ayuda económica que mi madre y mi hermano me prestaron terminando el montaje. Christian Loprette fue el editor que me ayudó en la primera fase de la edición. Con este documental he aprendido a grabar y a editar. Me lancé a viajar con la idea de tener una experiencia personal de autoconocimiento, disfrutar lo máximo y, si todo fluye, sacar un documental. El objetivo está cumplido, lo que venga bienvenido sea.

Para la realización del documental estuviste acompañando a Balta Lortenzo en una cantidad de circunstancias diversas. Una de ellas fue el Primer Festival de Alimentación Viva en España, realizado en “La Cascada”, una finca situada en la sierra del municipio malagueño de Ojén. ¿Cómo fue esta experiencia?





Ese festival marcó un antes y un después en mi vida. Fui consciente de mi toma de conciencia. Entendí muchas cosas que llevaba toda mi vida preguntándome y en cuestión de cuatro días manejaba más información que la que había tenido en los 29 años anteriores de mi vida. Gracias a la difusión que se dio en los medios oficiales sobre el festival allí nos juntamos 200 personas para compartir lo que teníamos. Se habló de Permacultura, Tantra, Renacimiento, Reiki…. términos que para mí eran desconocidos en su mayoría. Lo más importante es que pude experimentar estas técnicas y así alivié un dolor con la respiración, hablé de forma telepática en mi sesión de Tantra y otras vivencias que permitieron mi renacimiento, aunque suene un poco a ciencia ficción..





¿En que consiste la dieta Crudivegana? ¿Te resultó sencillo o complicado llevarla? ¿Qué cambios experimentaste a nivel físico?

La dieta Crudivegana consiste en comer alimentos( vegetales) crudos, en su estado más natural, sin pasar por el fuego. Luego dentro del crudivorismo tenemos muchas vías, están los Instintívoros, que comen carne y pescado crudo, también los hay que comen huevos crudos.

Mi experiencia con la dieta cruda es muy buena hasta el día de hoy. Probé una semana viajando en Asia con Balta y procesé muchas cosas. Después del festival también probé un tiempo, perdí kilos pero energéticamente me sentía a otro nivel. Hay que tener en cuenta la energía que el cuerpo invierte en la digestión, la dieta cruda es mucho más liviana que las dietas occidentales. De todos modos no sólo es la alimentación, hay otro gran porcentaje de energía que el cuerpo invierte en la mente y ahí es donde tenemos que ser más listos, en no darle más vueltas al coco. La energía que tenía por aquel entonces no sólo era gracias a la comida cruda, sino por el momento personal de descubrimiento interno que estaba procesando, me sentía como un niño con un juguete nuevo. Me daba cuenta de muchas más cosas que antes y eso lo favorece la dieta. Actualmente soy vegetariano y respeto la opción alimentaria de todo el mundo aunque no estaría mal que cada día consumiéramos menos carne de las agroindustrias. Es un buen comienzo.

En tu película se aprecia que se ha venido creando una especie de pequeña comunidad Crudivegana en España que trasciende, con mucho, el aspecto alimenticio. ¿Qué valores pudiste identificar en este grupo de personas? ¿Qué atmósfera reinó durante el tiempo que duró el Festival de Alimentación Viva?

Aquí en España no existe una comunidad Crudivegana como tal, aunque sí nos hemos podido conectar muchos de los que estamos interesados en una alimentación sana. Al final cada persona tiene su propia forma de ser, nadie es ejemplo de nada y cada uno es un mundo así que resulta difícil hablar de valores a nivel de comunidad. Para mí la atmósfera que reinó durante el festival fue muy linda, se compartieron muchas ideas, conocimientos, sentimientos, besos, abrazos... Ese fin de semana reaprendí a compartir a todos los niveles.





En varios pasajes del documental aparecen personajes que hablan del impacto de la dieta Crudivegana en sus vidas y lo asocian a una necesidad física, pero también a una espiritual, del ser. Parecen hablar desde el alma cuando describen la opción de una vida limpia de carne, de cocciones, de substancias, de estrés y vuelta a llenar con frutas, vegetales, armonía y contacto con la naturaleza. Curiosamente, cada día mas gente que conozco empieza a interesarse por estilos de vida alternativos. ¿Crees que hay una inquietud en las personas de hoy, una necesidad de experimentar la realidad desde una óptica diferente, mas natural, menos mecánica?

La dieta cruda teóricamente te acerca a tu parte espiritual, a la naturaleza, a la vida simple y sencilla, a conectarte más contigo mismo. Ahora mismo ése es el camino que he tomado así que esa teoría la estoy experimentado. Cuando vengan otras que comparta también las vivenciaré. Ésa es la idea, reinventarse uno mismo para bien tantas veces como pueda.

Mi experiencia es una más de las tantas de millones que están sucediendo día a día en el planeta. La gente sabe que algo está pasando: crisis económica, cambio climático, gripe A… No saben qué vendernos los “miedos de comunicación” para que sintamos pánico, dolor; para que nos identifiquemos con aquel que le han dejado, con aquella que sufre; para que nos hagamos muchas masturbaciones mentales y no podamos pensar con claridad. Utilizan una técnica sencilla: desviar la atención de lo que verdaderamente importa, uno mismo. Cada día hay más gente cansada de esa continua deformación y buscan otro tipo de vivencias y experiencias que le hagan crecer interiormente… Para mí la vida es un gigantesco parque de atracciones: hay que probar la infinidad de experiencias que se nos están ofertando y además gratis, que es lo más gracioso de toda esta historia.



¿Qué ha representado este documental en tu vida, como profesional y como persona?

A nivel profesional ha sido la primera vez que he grabado y editado, así que he estado aprendiendo continuamente. Animaría a todos los profesionales del sector que se lancen a realizar algo que realmente quieran contar. Cambiaríamos la visión del mundo en poco tiempo.

A nivel personal, a día de hoy tengo muchos más amigos que antes, he experimentado niveles de conciencia que jamás se me habían ocurrido, he conocido paisajes que me han hecho sentir de forma diferente y he descubierto mi misión en el mundo, por lo menos en este momento.

¿Qué proyectos nos preparas para el futuro? ¿Nos vas a sorprender con algo en el estilo novedoso y fresco de Que Crudo lo Tenemos?

Mi idea es impulsar una televisión consciente por internet. Creo que el tiempo se les está acabando a los “miedos de comunicación”. Somos muchos profesionales del sector que nos estamos lanzando de forma independiente, es hora de dar paso a los medios de información (in=dentro, forma, acción). Es decir, darle forma a la acción desde dentro. No contar algo porque alguien te lo pide sino contarlo tú porque así lo sientes. El sector audiovisual es una herramienta muy positiva para reeducarnos y construir una nueva realidad que nos sorprenderá a todos. Mi único objetivo es darle voz a toda la gente que quiera conocerse más a sí mismo para que de verdad algún día podamos saber realmente quienes somos y vivir en el paraíso terrenal, un mundo sin guerras y lleno de salud y paz mental, que falta nos hace. Por cierto, sigo buscando personal que subvencione este proyecto así que todo aquel que quiera poner su granito de arena ahí dejo mi contacto: pablotb801@hotmail.com.

Salud, paz, amor y alegría.

Muchas gracias hermano

A ustedes. Un abrazo.


Friday 22 January 2010

BLOGGER DE LA TELEVISIÓN EN ESPAÑOL:
ENTREVISTA A ALEXIS NÚÑEZ OLIVA

Por José Roversi





Alexis Núñez Oliva lo tiene muy claro: “Lo aburrido no es televisivo”. La función primordial de la televisión es entretener. Lo dice con conocimiento de causa. Como Productor Ejecutivo de Televisa, la compañía productora de medios en español más grande del mundo, Alexis ha creado algunos de los formatos mas exitosos de la televisión mexicana, como “La Oreja”, programa dedicado al espectáculo que entre 2002 y 2009 batió records de audiencia.

Al tiempo que producía temporada tras temporada de varios programas, Alexis encontró tiempo para dirigir, durante diez años, el que se ha convertido en el mayor canal de televisión de vídeos musicales en español, “Ritmoson Latino”, parte de Televisa Networks.

Pero hay una faceta menos conocida de este creador cubano-mexicano y es la de bloguero. “Por TV” es el nombre del primer blog sobre producción de televisión en español, en el que Alexis reflexiona sobre la forma en que hacemos, vemos y comprendemos la televisión, el más potente y polémico medio de comunicación que ha conocido la humanidad, hasta ahora, al menos.

Nuestra pasión por los medios, por la comunicación, nos llevó a querer entrevistar a una de las personas que moldean, actualmente, la televisión de habla hispana en el mundo. La generosidad de Alexis lo hizo posible.



JR: ¿Por qué un blog dedicado a la producción de TV?

AN: La televisión es un tema inagotable. Permite desde el análisis científico hasta la más burda especulación. Está al alcance de la mano porque despierta y duerme junto a las familias, tiene la voluntad promiscua de permanecer mientras vivimos, nos bañamos, nos vestimos, hacemos el amor, mientras discutimos o cuando simplemente somos sus espectadores. Esa flexibilidad permite escribir desde muchos ángulos sobre ella y exige que de ella se diga lo que se quiera decir. Un blog sobre televisión es simplemente un mínimo espacio más que la televisión requiere para que de ella se diga más.

JR: ¿Cómo ha sido la respuesta de tus lectores hasta ahora?

AN: Para mí, sorprendente. Tengo lectores desde más de cincuenta países del mundo que me inundan con correos que no alcanzo a responder. Los lectores de Por TV se manifiestan con razones y a veces sin argumentos, pero siempre desde la pasión de la televisión, desde la admiración hasta el odio, desde la aceptación hasta la negación.

JR: ¿Que tipo de artículo despierta mayor interés en Por TV?

AN: Aquellos relacionados con las formas de hacer televisión, específicamente cuando expongo ideas de cómo hacer un programa o cuál es el proceso para realizarlo.

JR: ¿Qué diferencia a un buen blog de uno que no lo es?

AN: No podría definirlo de manera tan estricta porque un blog sigue siendo algo muy personal. Es un medio de comunicación individual que se ha vuelto masivo, pero que no responde a los criterios de equilibrio de los medios de difusión. Al menos puedo poner como ejemplo el mío como malo y cualquiera que guste más como bueno.





JR: ¿Qué le respondes a los que piensan que la TV debería tener un sentido mas educativo?

AN: Les recomiendo que primero defiendan ese criterio de la mejor manera: viendo ellos mismos televisión educativa. En casi todos los países del mundo hay canales de televisión estatales o de centros de enseñanza que producen lo que llaman "televisión educativa", pero cuando revisas los rating de esos canales, observas que casi nadie los ve. He podido hacer incluso el siguiente ejercicio: después de escuchar las duras críticas de estudiantes universitarios contra la televisión comercial y después de escucharlos defender la televisión "educativa" les he preguntado por algunos programas "comerciales" y me han respondido con gran conocimiento de esos espacios.

Pero una vez que les pido me hablen de la programación de los canales "educativos" apenas pueden recordar algún título -si acaso- de uno de sus programas, lo que demuestra que el discurso no coincide con los gustos. Y sobre el concepto "televisión educativa" tengo objeciones. Toda la televisión educa, porque crea patrones, ejemplos, aspiraciones y porque la televisión es, finalmente, información.

El mundo lo conocemos casi por televisión. Somos educados -correcta o incorrectamente- a través de la televisión. Bajo esas premisas toda la televisión es educativa, aunque esa educación no vaya siempre en el sentido que nos gustaría.






JR: La fusión entre TV e internet es cada vez más una realidad. ¿Qué televisión tenderemos en el futuro próximo?

AN: Sin dudas Internet y televisión estarán unidas. Hoy vemos intentos de llevar la televisión al monitor de las computadoras, pero esa idea será muy antigua dentro de poco tiempo y lo idóneo será poder navegar en Internet a través de la televisión como algo natural. Mientras vemos nuestro programa preferido recibiremos alertas de un nuevo correo o nos avisarán de alguien que se acaba de conectar al messenger.

JR: ¿En que espacio de la industria televisiva crees que hay mayor necesidad de recurso humano?

AN: La televisión crece más rápido en necesidades que en formación de personal. En general hay una carencia enorme de talento y fuerza productiva en casi todas las áreas de televisión del mundo.

JR: ¿Qué tipo de TV te gusta a ti personalmente?

AN: Si lo digo públicamente sería enjuiciado como una persona aburrida. Sólo puedo decirte que no soy productor de la televisión que me gusta, sino de la necesidad de entretenimiento que tiene el público, porque entiendo a la televisión como un medio de entretenimiento que tiene la obligación de cumplir con esa función social. Lo aburrido no es televisivo.

JR: Ya para finalizar ¿Cómo ves el futuro de la blogósfera?

AN: La blogósfera tiene un futuro enorme. Seguirá modernizándose e incorporará nuevas formas para expresarnos, pero llegó para quedarse. Sin compromisos, sin línea editorial, sin intereses cerrados, tiene un mundo de información casi siempre basado en la reflexión. El surgimiento del blog no nos puso a pensar, pero sí nos permitió mostrarle a los demás qué pensamos y con ello ha creado la biblioteca del pensamiento moderno más grande de la historia de la humanidad. Los arqueólogos del futuro no levantarán piedras ni limpiarán con pinceles vasijas escondidas debajo de las ruinas. Sólo tendrán que leer miles de post para entender cómo éramos y por qué sufríamos y gozábamos la existencia en estos tiempos.

JR: Muchas gracias Alexis, nosotros estamos realmente felices de poder compartir con nuestros lectores tus respuestas.

AN: Gracias a ustedes y una disculpa por mi tardanza. Muchas razones tuve, pero ninguna vale la pena explicarla. Sólo ofrecerles una sincera disculpa.

JR: Un abrazo.

AN: Otro para ustedes.

http://portv.blogspot.com



Monday 18 January 2010

THE COUP AGAINST CHÁVEZ AND THE MAKING OF MODERN VENEZUELA: AN INTERVIEW WITH AMERICAN WRITER BRIAN A. NELSON, AUTHOR OF "THE SILENCE AND THE SCORPION"


by José Roversi





I had been living in Padova, Italy, bussy with an exciting, new radio project that presented me with a huge variety of possibilities. Away from friends and family, I Skyped quite a lot. One of my Skype buddies was the brilliant young venezuelan novelist A.A.Alvarez, author of “Chronicles of a Nomad: Memoirs of an Inmigrant”, who overseeing the Aegean Sea from his house in Athens, Greece, was always hunting for fresh, interesting literature on Venezuela.

As venezuelan expatriates, Alex and I would go reflecting on the country´s matters for hours, dissecting aspect after aspect of our voluptuous idiosyncracy. One night we were discussing the 04-11-2002 events that lead to the brief overtrhown of Hugo Chávez. Alex had just received a copy of a book that fully reconstructed what had happened that day almost on an hour to hour basis: The Silence and The Scorpion: The Coup Against Chávez and the Making of Modern Venzuela, by american writer Brian A. Nelson, a young academic at the Center for American and World Cultures at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio.

Exceptionally well written, potent and accurate, the book was built on hundreds of hours of interviews with both sides of the coin: oppositionist “marchistas” that attended the million-person demonstration all over the streets of Caracas; Chávez loyalists who movilized to the surroundings of “Miraflores”, the presidential palace, to defend the “revolution”; and high rank military officers forced to make the biggest decission of their carreers on those critical moments. Nelson spoke to an incredible ammount of people, remarkably managing to gain acces to key players on each field.

Reading The Silence and The Scorpion made a huge impression on me for a number of reasons: because a non venezuelan could dive so deep (and probably deeper) into our national neurosis; because of its vibrant narrative and exhaustive research work; because the events so cleverly portraited forever change mine and millions of others life for good; because I was there and it wasn´t that long ago; yet the course of history was forever modified.

The 2009 Books of the Year list by The Economist have included Brian A. Nelson´s The Silence and The Scorpion: “A scrupulous account of one of the most important, yet most misunderstood events in recent South American history. It should be read by all those who believe that Hugo Chávez is a worthy champion of democracy and the oppressed”.

This interview was conducted between the months of december 2009 and january 2010. It´s been an infinite priviledge (as well as a pleasure) having the opportunity of working with someone like Brian, who´s phenomenal break into the literary scene only give us a clue of what his talent´s got yet to offer.



"The Silence and The Scorpion" is a very suggestive title, seems to talk about a place, but also about a character or circumstance...

Yes, “the silence” is a place in Caracas. It’s the area around the presidential palace where the violence occurred. For many Venezuelans “the silence” (el silencio) has now become synonymous with the bloodshed of April 11 and the coup.

Why did they call it the Silence? Once upon a time, back in the 1880s when the palace was built, this area was set apart from the center of Caracas. Old paintings of the palace show a beautiful pastoral area, so it really was a serene and quiet place. Today, however, it has been consumed by Caracas and is one of the most densely populated areas of the city. It’s somewhat ironic that a place called the silence is now interminably noisy.

“The Scorpion” comes from an old fable that one of the central characters in the book, General Usón, told me in our first interview. Usón was a close friend of Chávez’s but he defected to the opposition after the coup. In 2004 Usón was imprisoned for causing “insult and injury” to the Venezuelan military because of a TV interview he gave. The fable is about a scorpion and a frog. It goes like this: a scorpion tries to convince a frog to carry him across the river. The frog is initially afraid of the scorpion, but is eventually won over. When they are halfway across the river, the scorpion suddenly stings the frog. “What have you done?” cries the frog. “Now I am going to die and you will die with me.” To this the scorpion simply shrugs and says, “It’s my nature.” In our interview Usón compared Chávez to the scorpion—as someone who might have good intentions, but who is, by his nature, aggressive and militant by nature. I think it is interesting that Usón made this analogy before he was arrested. The comparison was not made vindictively, but as an observation by someone who had known Chávez personally for more than 25 years.

I want to ask you about the circumstances of your arrival in Venezuela as an AFS student in 1988.

I have to laugh when I think about how I ended up in Venezuela. It’s funny because Venezuela has become a huge part of my life, yet I never actually chose to go there. It was chance.

When I was applying to AFS—I must have been seventeen—I knew that I needed to learn another language, yet, honestly, I wasn’t quite brave enough to choose a really hard language like Chinese or Japanese. I knew that Spanish was supposed to be easy to learn so on my application, in the part where they ask which country you want to go to, I simply wrote “Spanish speaking.” I could have ended up anywhere between Tierra del Fuego and Madrid. About six months later I discovered that I was going to Maracaibo, Venezuela. I had heard that name, Maracaibo, but I had no idea where it was and I had to look it up on the map.

It’s one of those little decisions that change your life forever. There was no well-constructed plan. In fact, it was a short-sighted decision (based on the thinking of a teenager) that had long-term consequences. My major in college, my first job, my graduate field work, and my first book were all a consequence of writing “Spanish speaking” on that application.



Did you witness the February 1989 riots in Caracas? If so ¿Can you describe the impression it made on you?



I was in Maracaibo, which is Venezuela’s second largest city, during the riots of 1989. There was a great deal of looting there and some violence, but it was not as intense as in Caracas. One of the things I remember most distinctly was the day it began. Three of my host-brothers and I had just returned from school. I remember coming into the kitchen where we had a small black and white TV and seeing the first images of the looting. I can still see it in my mind: There was a man kneeling in front of one of those big steel garage doors that they use to protect the entrances to supermarkets (you know, Santa Marías). And there was this guy with a blowtorch about to cut through it—he had one of those heavy face masks and everything. He lit the torch and started cutting. Behind him was a huge crowd of people waiting to sack the store as soon as he’d broken through. As the camera pulled back, I realized that it was the supermarket three blocks from our house. It was that close. Not long after that, the government cut all the TV networks and the screen turned to static and snow.

I also remember the military curfew which, if I remember correctly, started every day at 6 p.m. That was, I think, the greatest fear we all had—that the military could kill you for any reason. We knew this was happening. It was martial law. In fact, we knew a family who had an emergency and tried to get to the hospital after curfew and they were all killed when they approached a military checkpoint. Even during the daytime you avoided leaving the house because you didn’t know what might happen.

The whole thing was very surreal. This was before the internet and DirecTV, so you had very little idea what was going on, so your imagination ran wild. Getting information became very, very important. There were all these rumors and strange stories going around. It was all based on someone’s uncle’s brother-in-law or someone’s second cousin who knew a politician or a general, etc.

When did you leave Venezuela? Did you follow the Venezuelan socio-political scene at the distance? How did you approach Chávez’s rise?



I returned to the United States in July 1989 and, yes, I did continue to follow what was happening in Venezuela for two reasons: First because of my friends and host-family still in Venezuela. And second, because of the Caracazo. That really stuck with me.

Oddly, the thing about the Caracazo that made the biggest impression on me was the macroeconomics of it. I know that doesn’t sound very sexy, but that’s what intrigued me. The riots showed me the power of economics. In February 1989 Venezuelans began to loot and riot because of macroeconomics. Soldiers came out into the street to kill them because of macroeconomics. It was the result of a package of reforms put in place by President Carlos Andrés Pérez. Bowing to pressure from international lending agencies, Pérez’s reforms caused a sharp rise in the cost of many goods and services—most importantly gasoline. That’s what sparked the crisis and it really changed the way I perceived the world. I realized that economics is not necessarily a casual ebb and tide of forces, not an indifferent system of incentives or a helping hand. It can be a violent and destructive thing. As you know, it had incredible effects on Venezuelan society—savings accounts were sucked away, real wages plummeted, pensions were eroded away by inflation. Essentially, the Venezuelan middle class was knocked into the lower class overnight. I remember very clearly how my host father, a professor of law, had to walk to work for three months because he couldn’t afford a 50 dollar battery for his car.

So when I returned to the United States and began college I double majored in Economics and International Studies, largely because of my experiences in Venezuela the previous year.

What did I think of Chávez initially? I thought the revolution was a great idea. I thought that Venezuela needed radical change to turn itself around. After all, I’d been going back to Venezuela about once a year (sometimes more) throughout the 1990s, so I was getting these regular snapshots of Venezuela’s socio-economic decline. The scandals, the corruption, the bank failures, the crime. So it seemed completely necessary to push “reset.” To wipe the slate clean and start all over. It’s a classic case of “be careful what you wish for.” At the time I thought (like most people) that it couldn’t get any worse. That it was worth taking a risk on a political unknown to turn the country around.

Much later, I spoke with some of Chávez’s campaign advisers for the 1998 election and they told me that they knew that Chávez was much more radical than the public realized, but they made sure he spoke as little as possible about his long-term plans. Instead they cast him as the independent, the one who would clean up the mess of the two traditional parties. People often forget about that: That Chávez was elected on a backlash to the two traditional powers, and not because of who he was. Most of us fell in love with the story of Hugo Chávez, not realizing who the real Hugo Chávez was.

Where were you when the 04-11-2002 events occurred? What were your first feelings at getting word of what had happened?



I was in the United States, in my last weeks of graduate school, when the coup occurred. I had visited Venezuela that last Christmas but, to be honest, I had not been following the political situation that closely as I was neck-deep in my studies. When the coup occurred, I was still very much in favor of Chávez and given the limited coverage in the States, I assumed that it had been a “classic coup”—a conspiracy within the military likely backed by the United States. After all, Chávez had already forged very close ties with Cuba as well as Iraq, Iran, and Libya. He was also speaking out against the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan. With Venezuela as the fifth largest supplier of oil to the U.S., it made sense that the United States would want to get rid of him. The fact that the military installed a former oil company executive, Pedro Carmona, as interim-president, helped solidify my opinion that the coup was about ensuring that one of America’s most stable suppliers of oil was not lost.

It wasn’t until I arrived in Venezuela in September, five months later, that I began to reconsider things. Many Venezuelans that I respected told me how mortified they had been when Chávez made his miraculous return. I wondered how they could support the ouster of a democratically-elected president. So I decided to take a closer look.

I quickly realized that certain things just didn’t add up. Many things just didn’t fit the “classic coup” scenario. For example:

1. How could this be a classic coup if the military never attacked anyone? In fact, the military rebelled by NOT acting; by refusing to follow Chávez’s orders that they stop the march that was converging on his palace.

2. If the Chávez government was the victim of a coup, then why was it the one that cut the signals of all of the TV stations, thereby blocking out coverage of the violence around the palace?

3. Why did the Venezuela Supreme Court—which was entirely appointed by Chávez’s party—rule that there had been no coup at all, but rather a power vacuum precipitated by the executive branch?

4. Perhaps most importantly, if the Venezuelan government was the victim, then why did it launch a major cover-up of the events? Why did it suspend the Truth Commission, destroy evidence, and fire police detectives and prosecutors who tried to investigate what had happened?

There was definitely something else going on here. Yes, it was clear that the military had broken the law and so had Interim-president Carmona, but there was another story here that was not being told. That’s what piqued my interest.

Why and how did you decide to write "The Silence and the Scorpion?


It’s probably easier to answer that question by explaining what kind of book I didn’t want to write.

First, I knew I didn’t want to write a boring drawn-out history book about Venezuela that only a handful of people would want to read. Especially when what was happening in Venezuela was so fascinating.

Second, I didn’t want to feel like I was lecturing people about Venezuela. That’s one of the things that annoys me about travel writing, that it is about the author and not the place. Instead, I just wanted to show it. I was pretty sure that if I could do that; if I could just put reality “in front of the camera” then I would be creating something very original. Because that’s what you can’t get from a newspaper or magazine—that level of detail, that feeling of being there. I really wanted the reader to feel like I had just dropped them in the middle of Caracas. I wanted to recreate the feeling of discovery that people have when they go overseas for the first time. For example, I intentionally didn’t translate many Spanish words and I didn’t explain everything up front because I wanted the reader to feel a little disoriented, like you would if you had just gotten off a plane. There is an excitement in that confusion that I wanted to capture. Little by little—interspersed in the action—I gave the reader the background they needed to understand how Venezuela got to this point.

After I had determined what I didn’t want, it was easy to pick the coup because it was the most important and compact event that encapsulated what life is like in Venezuela today. It showed how Chávez has polarized Venezuela--why some people fight so hard for Chávez and why some people fight so hard to get rid of him.

How was the researching-interviewing process? How long did it take you to gather the information and testimonials? Was it difficult getting people to share their testimonials?






Good God, it took forever! [Laughing]

Okay, I admit that the beginning was a pleasure—conducting interviews is a great deal of fun. You are traveling around to different parts of the country, meeting new people, listening to their stories, learning new things. I met some of the actors half a dozen times and, as a consequence, many of them became my friends.

But then I had to take each of those recorded interviews and transcribe them. Which means that I had to sit with a tape-recorder to my ear, press play, listen to a few words, press stop, type those words into the computer, press play again, listen to a few words, press stop, etcetera, etcetera. And of course, we are talking about hundreds and hundreds of hours of interviews. Then major parts of those interviews had to be translated into English, then woven into the main story. God, it was tedious! I felt like one of the designers for The Lord of the Rings: one of those guys who spends months making the detailing on a scabbard that no one will ever notice in the film. But in the end there was a payoff: Since I had thousands of pages of testimony on my computer it was much easier to patch the book together and much easier to search through all the testimony to find links between the characters.

This became my cycle of writing: I would do a series of interviews; transcribe them and translate them; then I would check my other sources—videos, photographs, newspaper articles, etc. to make sure that the testimony was credible; then (and only then) I would weave them into the main story. Then I would look at the finished product and find out what I was missing, so I would interview the person again or interview other people and start the whole cycle from the beginning.

Overall, people were very generous with their time and it was not hard to get interviews. The fact that I had lived in Venezuela in high school and kept in touch with all of my friends was a huge advantage here because many of my friends had split into the pro- and anti-Chávez camps and helped me get interviews with key people. This meant that most of the time I wasn’t interviewing strangers, I was interviewing a friend of a friend. That made a big difference in what people were willing to share with me. I was already a confidant. Yes, now that I think about it, I was very lucky, because I know that I got access to people on both sides that few foreign journalists could have gotten.

The only people who did not respond to a request for a second interview were the Tupamaros—one of the urban guerrilla groups in Caracas. I met with six of them and had a fascinating interview, but I think someone in their hierarchy told them not to go talking to any more “gringo” journalists, so that was the end of that. In hindsight, I have to admit, they told me things they probably should not have: how the government gave them money and sent some of them to Cuba for insurgency training, etc. (These are things that the government denies doing.)

What are the main conclusions you have reached after all the research work done on the 04-11-2002?



My main conclusion about the coup was that no one was innocent. The government, the military, and the opposition all did illegal things that contributed to the crisis and they all bear responsibility.

Concerning the Chávez government, it completely destroyed the rather romantic view I had of revolutionary socialism.

Why? Because the facts are undeniable: Gunmen and National Guard troops under orders from the Chávez government committed massive human rights violations against the opposition marchers and journalists as they approached the presidential palace. It was an unnecessary and completely avoidable act by the government (the biggest prong of the march was actually turned away with teargas, proving that violence was not necessary). In the aftermath the government not only blocked an independent investigation, but it harassed many of the victims and their attorneys, jailed innocent people in order to have scapegoats, and funded TV shows and documentary films to spin events in its favor.

In many ways the government’s reaction to the violence is much more telling than the violence itself. It was a critical moment because the government had a choice: it could have jailed the gunmen and National Guard troops who were caught on film and in photographs shooting at the marchers. This would have provided some reconciliation for the victims and proven that the government applies the law equally to all citizens. It did NOT choose that route. Instead, it began building up lies on top of lies to protect itself.

But perhaps the government knew full well that it had to lie because the stakes were so high. That is, a true independent investigation could very likely topple the government. After all, former Venezuelan president Carlos Andréz Pérez was impeached simply for sending campaign funds to a candidate in Nicaragua. How quickly would Chávez be impeached if a proper investigation were held into the violence on April 11th? Rest assured that Chávez has thought of this. I’m sure he’s also thought of former Peruvian President Alberto Fujimori, who is in jail for complicity in the killing of his opponents in Peru. Recall that Hugo Chávez spent two years in jail after his own coup attempt in 1992 and he didn’t like it. He knows that if he loses power in Venezuela he will likely face a prison term. Think about that for a second and how much that influences his decisions.

Again, Carlos Andréz Pérez was placed under house arrest for illegal campaign contributions to a single country, but it is well known that Chávez has meddled in the internal affairs of Mexico, Peru, El Salvador, Honduras, Brazil, and Colombia—not to mention the 800,000 dollars in a briefcase earmarked for Cristina Fernández de Kirchner in Argentina. Sending rocket launchers, ammunition, and money to the Colombian FARC? Also illegal. All of these cases remain uninvestigated in Venezuela because of Chávez’s control over the Parliament, the Supreme Court, and the Justice Department (Fiscalia). But if he loses power, the incoming government is surely going to go after him.

Obviously, many things are driving Hugo Chávez—his ardent belief in socialism, his distrust of the United States and the West (which to some degree is understandable given it’s historic role in Latin America), and his desire to become a legendary figure who can unite Latin America at least as well as his political muse, Simón Bolívar. But as someone who has studied Chávez’s record on human rights, I believe his fear of incarceration is also a factor. His repeated (and finally successful) attempts to change the constitution to allow for his indefinite re-election may be viewed through this lens. Yes, Hugo Chávez wanted to end term limits so that his revolution could continue, but I believe he also wanted to end term limits to protect himself from the cascade of lawsuits he will face if he has to relinquish power.

So that is why the experience of writing this book has destroyed my romantic vision of the revolutionary left. The discovery of the intentional use of violence on April 11th was the tipping point. It proved that the Chávez government is willing to violate the country’s laws and its constitution to advance its goals. In other words, Chávez believes that his revolution is more important than the law, more important than democracy. That’s a very dangerous thing. What’s more, I realized that the goals of the revolution are not as lofty as its leader professes; they are much more about the short-term, self-preservation, survival. Chávez acts as if he has picked up the banner of Ché Guevara, but he is merely cloaking himself in Ché’s image, in large part for his own protection.

Newsweek 2010 predictions includes a new coup d'etat in Venezuela. Having lived in the country; having had a permanent, direct rapport with Venezuelans for over twenty years; having written one of the most documented accounts of the April 2002 events to this date. How do you foresee Venezuela`s socio-political scenario evolving in the future?



I believe that Newsweek made that prediction because of a story they published in December 2007 by Jorge Castañeda right after Chávez lost the constitutional amendment referendum that would have allowed for his perpetual re-election (a referendum he later repackaged and won). That article discussed how Chávez tried to steal the vote on election day when he realized he was going to lose, but that General Baduel and the military high command “virtually threatened him with a coup d'état” if he did so. Newsweek believes that if Venezuela came that close to a coup in 2007, then it is even more likely in 2010 given the deteriorating economy and skyrocketing crime (Caracas is now the murder capital of the world, with twice as many homicides as Johannesburg, the second worst city).

While I do think that the deteriorating economy is hurting Chávez and is putting significant pressure on him, I think Newsweek has missed the point of the 2007 story. The point is not that Chávez was almost the victim of a coup, the point is that Chávez avoided a coup by appeasing his opponents, then he quietly regrouped and eventually got rid of them. Today General Baduel is sitting in jail (without a trial) and Chávez has successfully reshuffled the military high command to exorcise those he suspected of disloyalty. His control over the military is once again very strong. This is essentially what Chávez did after the April 11 coup: he temporarily retreated because he knew his position was weak, but then he methodically laid his plans and slowly and steadily purged his government and the military of all those he suspected of disloyalty. This is why many people thought it was an “auto-coup”—that Chávez had orchestrated the whole thing—because he emerged stronger than ever. (It wasn’t an auto-coup, but many people thought it was.) The lesson is that Chávez is a survivor.

So I am doubtful that there will be a military coup this year and I hope for Venezuela’s sake that there is not a violent or illegal change of government. But what is interesting is the growing fantasy of a coup, especially in the opposition. Many people want regime change in Venezuela. They dream about it. Any way they can get it. Why? Because they feel that all of the democratic paths have been exhausted. They don’t feel that protests work; they don’t feel that referendums work; they don’t feel that the courts work. They have lost faith in the institutions that should have protected against what they feel they are faced with now: a president-for-life. Most importantly, they have lost faith in the National Election Council, which Chávez does indeed control and, I feel, was a big part for his “victory” during the recall referendum of 2004.

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