Fuera Bush!
That`s all I`ve been hearing these past couple of days "Fuera Bush! Get out Bush!" There are flyers and banners hanging on every wall, dangling from every window and lampost. Little white papers advertising anti-U.S. marches litter the streets and more than a few have been shoved into my hand by eager protestors as I walk down the main avenue, 18 de Julio. Photo-shopped images of Bush as everything from Satan to Hitler to a mafia lord to a vampire bat abound along with flags from the various Uruguayan political fronts, plenty of Venezuelan and Cuban flags and burning swastikas.
My housemates are getting married today and with half the city closed so that no one can get anywhere near Bush (or his double) we`re having trouble finding out how we`re actually going to get to the wedding. We had to submit a list of names to the government so that the soldier-bouncer they`ve posted at the barricade will let wedding guests through. I don`t think I`ve ever been on a list before, not even for the social houses at Middlebury, and here I am on an official government list and will probably be more suspect than the rest because I am the only one with a name they won`t be able to pronounce. And if the soldier is from the U.S., well, then I`ll be the only one with a name that he can pronounce. Either way.
Last night, an innocent shopping trip and attempt to find red lipstick to match my red dress for the wedding turned interesting when I inadvertantly stumbled into the middle of an anti-Bush march. Luckily, I was accompanied by a Venezuelan, which was good because Chavez, the Venezuelan president, is basically Bush`s arch-enemy in Latin America. Also, I just happened to be clad in red, the color of the Chavistas. So I kept my mouth shut for fear anyone who heard me talk would discover that I was not from Uruguay or Venezuela but rather from the United States and observed the ugliness and the anger and the hate in silence.
I didn`t feel threatened, I didn`t feel scared, but that didn`t stop my stomach from turning inside-out more than once. I`m not sure what it was that bothered me. It`s not like I`m best friends with Bush, I`m opposed to him too. But somehow I`m more on the inside than these people. Not because I voted for him (which I didn`t) but because, whether I like it or not, he represents my country. And I hate that the image that he projects of my country is the image that people see. I`m doing my best to project my own image of the United States, which in my opinion is a much more real image, and can only hope that the people I know and meet will see this image and understand that there is more to our country than its current president.
My housemates are getting married today and with half the city closed so that no one can get anywhere near Bush (or his double) we`re having trouble finding out how we`re actually going to get to the wedding. We had to submit a list of names to the government so that the soldier-bouncer they`ve posted at the barricade will let wedding guests through. I don`t think I`ve ever been on a list before, not even for the social houses at Middlebury, and here I am on an official government list and will probably be more suspect than the rest because I am the only one with a name they won`t be able to pronounce. And if the soldier is from the U.S., well, then I`ll be the only one with a name that he can pronounce. Either way.
Last night, an innocent shopping trip and attempt to find red lipstick to match my red dress for the wedding turned interesting when I inadvertantly stumbled into the middle of an anti-Bush march. Luckily, I was accompanied by a Venezuelan, which was good because Chavez, the Venezuelan president, is basically Bush`s arch-enemy in Latin America. Also, I just happened to be clad in red, the color of the Chavistas. So I kept my mouth shut for fear anyone who heard me talk would discover that I was not from Uruguay or Venezuela but rather from the United States and observed the ugliness and the anger and the hate in silence.
I didn`t feel threatened, I didn`t feel scared, but that didn`t stop my stomach from turning inside-out more than once. I`m not sure what it was that bothered me. It`s not like I`m best friends with Bush, I`m opposed to him too. But somehow I`m more on the inside than these people. Not because I voted for him (which I didn`t) but because, whether I like it or not, he represents my country. And I hate that the image that he projects of my country is the image that people see. I`m doing my best to project my own image of the United States, which in my opinion is a much more real image, and can only hope that the people I know and meet will see this image and understand that there is more to our country than its current president.
posted by Cata @ 11:08 AM
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