Latin America, the United States—and Syria

For various reasons, I have become interested in Latin American history.

First, I’m interested in history generally.  In college, in addition to standard history requirements, I also studied German and Russian history, and the history of the modern Middle East.

Second, I have a few Facebook friends from Latin America.

Third, the United States seems to have a unique relationship with Latin America.

Fourth, and connected with the third:  I became aware, a decade or more back, that in the United States people are generally not taught about Latin America.

Anyway, I have been poring over histories of Latin America, Brazil, Mexico, and Argentina—and I’m still quite confused, although Mexican history is beginning to jell; meaning that I now have a general sense or outline in my head of how Mexico has developed.  In the case of Brazil and Argentina, there are still large gaps in my understanding.

I feel that perhaps I’ve been wrong to neglect the period of colonial Spanish and Portuguese rule; perhaps the key to understanding everything that has happened since lies there, in the earlier history?

On the whole, at the moment, I feel a bit depressed.  Thinking of Latin American history, I’m aware of great social inequalities, imperfect democracy, and a long-term disregard for human rights.  Thinking of Latin-U.S. relations, I’m much clearer now on why Latin America feels antagonism towards the United States.

Meanwhile, in the wider world, I wonder what is about to happen in Syria.  It starts to occur to me that certain aspects of the Arab World may bear comparison to Latin America—including how the United States relates to both regions.

Much more to study, and learn, and think about!

Anthems (7) – Latin Interlude

My original interest in anthems came about because of my love of the Russian anthems, my history with the German/Austrian anthems, and my discovery of the wide-spread distribution of God Save the Queen (more of which later).  I’ve discussed the Russian anthems and I’m holding the other business for the end.  Pending the end, I wanted to get an idea of what else was out there, lurking in places I usually don’t inhabit.  Thus this temporary interlude.

I’ve always felt that white United States folks have been raised to neglect Latin America, so I went off to explore those national anthems.  I came back only with preliminary impressions.

I quickly explored Mexico, Costa Rica, Venezuela, Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile—and Puerto Rico.  What I remember is mostly Brazil.  I have a friend there, and I’d listened to the anthem before.  The others I’ve heard only once even now—and Venezuela disconnected half-way through.  I remember the Mexican anthem seemed rather bellicose—but that’s from my U.S. perspective (more of that later).  But Brazil I was actually on the verge of learning.

The Brazilian anthem struck me the first time (and later on) as a Verdi opera.   Sources tell me that the style is actually more that of a Rossini opera.  Someone online commented that “it’s so much fun to sing!”  And it probably is.  I just haven’t attempted to learn the words yet—I don’t know the vocabulary, and I’d have to learn how to run all the vowels together.  It’s a future project.

For reference, I also listened to the anthems from Spain and Portugal—and Italy (someone had said it was the prettiest); I’m left with a general sense that they sound “Latin”; they generally don’t sound like Verdi operas, and yet…somehow they remind me of Italian opera—and is that really so surprising?

I guess I’m only half surprised.  It’s Brazil I remember, which does sound like 1830s Italian opera—and in fact the anthem was written around that time, so why shouldn’t it?

I explored other world regions too—more of that shortly.  I intend to return to many of the places I’ve only glanced at; you really do find surprises out there.  I found myself rather touched by what I found in Puerto Rico—though perhaps that was because the singer reminded me of a girlfriend.  (And which “anthem,” actually, was she singing?  Puerto Rico is a commonwealth within the United States.  I think after her I stumbled onto a Puerto Rican revolutionary song!)

Yes, I’ve found many surprises.  Stay tuned.

Awakening on Thanksgiving, 2012

Woke up this Thanksgiving morning with many thoughts all jumbled together, trying to form a coherence.  Rather than coherence here, I’ll aim for images and splotches of feelings.

Thinking of William Burroughs, having finished reading Naked Lunch last night.  I know people personally wounded by addiction, or the addictions of their friends or relatives.

Thinking of Burroughs poem, “Thanksgiving Day, 1986” (quoted below).

Thinking of guns.  A friend of mine is buying a gun to defend herself from a stalker.  I’ve been reflecting on that, but I’ll share those thoughts later; they need to settle a bit more.

Thinking of friends far away, hoping I get to know them better as the years come and pass.

Thinking of the United States, and all the countries and people of the Americas, actually; and the world.

Thinking of places I’d like to visit and know better—particularly Latin America.

Thinking of the film I saw over the weekend, George Wallace, with Gary Sinise and Angelina Jolie.    

Thinking of the white southerners depicted in the film, and the blacks brought here as slaves, “freed,” then left to fend for themselves in a hostile, exploiting society.

Thinking of Martin Luther King, killed for demanding justice

Thinking of John Kennedy, assassinated on this date, forty-nine years ago.

Thinking.

. . .

Wondering (when I woke up, anyway) whether people fall into three categories:  People who have always lived in the same place, people who have willingly travelled about, and people who are taken against their will to other places.

Waking this morning, I felt a great connection to all the people who had come to the Americas from Europe.  I’d been reading, last night, about Buenos Aires; and thinking about the many people of the Americas who came here from Europe (and wondering why someone would leave the place they were born, to live and die somewhere else, far from their parents, family, and what they were used to).

Then thinking about people who have never lived anywhere other than where they were born; whose ancestors have lived there as well, as far back as memory or history goes.  Wondering how it is possible to stay in one place.  My own background is so different.

Thinking about Africa, the original home of all humans, scientists say (though indigenous American legends and so on would dispute that); Africa the Great Indigenous Homeland (yet how differently “Whites” think of the “Black Africans” and the “Native Americans” and the “Australian Aboriginals” and themselves).

And thinking about the people who were conquered, or who were enslaved, or who were kidnapped and dragged off somewhere else against their will; abused, exploited, tortured, killed; considered of no importance other than for how they could be used.

And thinking of our current situation, the vast machinery of Black Friday, in the land where the commercial exploitation of each holiday begins at midnight at the end of the previous holiday; or even sooner—where Santa Claus now appears in stores not long after Halloween, before we’ve even staggered into Thanksgiving.

A friend of mine calls the United States a “heaving monstrosity.”  Burroughs, in his inimitable way, says “Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons, destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts.”

Nevertheless, I’m still thankful for my friends, my lovers, my family.  I’m still glad I’ve grown up and live in the United States.  I’m thankful for my own past and my own present, in spite of the contradictions and paradoxes and darkness contained therein (along with the light).