http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/ en-us rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) webmaster@ricksteves.com (Webmaster @ Rick Steves) Fri, 20 Nov 2009 11:03:25 PST Fri, 20 Nov 2009 11:03:25 PST 15 For 30 years Rick Steves has taught smart European travel. copyright (c) 2009 Rick Steves' Travel as a Political Act Blog BlogFusion 4.0 - www.blogfusion.com http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/files/BFlogo.gif http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/ 88 31 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=90 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=90 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 20 Nov 2009 11:03:00 PST
I think their success relates to their acceptance of their social contract. Any society needs to subscribe to a social contract ' basically, what you agree to give up in order to live together peacefully. Densely populated Europe generally embraces Rousseau's social contract: In order to get along well, everyone will contribute a little more than their share and give up a little more than their share. Then, together, we'll all be fine.

The Danes ' who take this mindset to the extreme ' are particularly conscientious about not exploiting loopholes. They are keenly aware of the so-called "free rider problem": If you knew you could get away with it, would you do something to get more than your fair share? The Danes recognize that if everyone did this, their system would collapse. Therefore, they don't. It seems to me that the Danes make choices considering what would happen to their society (not just to themselves) if everyone cheated on this, sued someone for that, freeloaded here, or ignored that rule there.

In contrast, the United States subscribes to John Locke's version of the social contract: a "don't fence me in" ideal of rugged individualism, where you can do anything you like as long as you don't hurt your neighbor. Just keep the government off our backs. In some ways, this suits us: As we have always had more elbow room, we can get away with our "rugged individualism." Thanks to our wide-open spaces, determination to be self-sufficient, and relative population sparsity, it's easier ' and arguably less disruptive ' for us to ignore the free rider problem.

If I had to identify one major character flaw of Americans, it might be our inability to appreciate the free rider problem. Many Americans practically consider it their birthright to make money they didn't really earn, enjoy the fruits of our society while cheating on their taxes, drive a gas-guzzler just because they can afford it, take up two parking spots so no one will bump their precious car, and generally jigger the system if they can get away with it. We often seem to consider actions like these acceptable...without considering the fact that if everyone did it, our society as a whole would suffer.

This was thrown into sharp relief with the crippling financial crisis that began in 2008. In the lead-up to the crisis, smart people knew deep down that existing policies would not be sustainable if everyone jumped in, trying to make money from speculation rather than substance. They gambled that they could pull it off, and the free rider problem wouldn't kick it. But then it did. As Europe, too, got caught up in this "casino capitalism," we saw how interconnected our world has become, and how ' with the globalization of our economies ' there's now only one game in town.

A good example of how the Danish social ethic differs from others is a simple one: Danes are famous for not jaywalking. Even if the roads are empty at 3 a.m., pedestrians still stop and wait at a red light. If there's no traffic in sight, my American individualism whispers, "Why obey a silly rule?" And so I jaywalk, boldly, assuming that my fellow pedestrians will appreciate my lead and follow me. In most countries, they do. But when I jaywalk in Denmark, the locals frown at me like I'm a bad influence on the children present. That social pressure impacts even a hurried, jaywalking tourist. So, rather than feel like an evil person, I wait for the light.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=90#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=89 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=89 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 18 Nov 2009 11:01:00 PST
What happens when a tune-up is needed? My Danish friends tell me they rely on their government. Rather than doing what's best for corporations, the Danish government clearly looks out for the people's interests. The Danes say, "If our government lets us down, we let ourselves down."

This strong social ethic permeates the whole of Danish society. A traveler can find it in its raw and indigenous form in the rural corners and small towns ' places where anyone is allowed to pick berries and nuts, but "no more than would fit in your hat."

On a recent visit to a Danish small town, I saw this social ethic in the way a local friend of mine reacted to a controversy. The biggest hotel in his town started renting bikes to compete with Mrs. Hansen's bike rental shop. My friend was disappointed in the hotel manager, saying, "They don't need to do that ' bike rental has been Mrs. Hansen's livelihood since she was a little girl." Of course, there's no law forbidding it. And with our American business ethic, we'd just say that competition is good. But in Denmark, to look out for Mrs. Hansen's little bike rental business was a matter of neighborly decency.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=89#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=88 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=88 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 16 Nov 2009 09:35:00 PST

Denmark's answer to Disneyland ' Legoland ' is a wildly popular place featuring 58 million Lego bricks built into famous landmarks from around the world. (They claim that if you lined them all up, they'd stretch from here to Italy.) The place is crawling with adorable little ice-cream-licking, blonde children. Although stoked with piles of sugar, the scene is strikingly mellow. Kids hold their mothers' hands while learning about the Lego buildings and smile contentedly as they circle around on the carousel.

Riding Danish trains is also thought-provoking. Wandering into a nearly empty, sleek train car, I noticed that each seat was marked Kan reserveres. I figured that meant "not reserved," and sat down. Then I was bumped by a friendly Dane with a reservation. He said, "The sign means the seat 'could be' reserved...we don't promise too much." Noticing several young men with shaved heads and the finest headphones listening to iPods making clockwork connections on their quick and comfortable train commute to work, I thought that Denmark seemed so minimalistic and efficient...and so well-ordered.

On another train ride, I was filming a segment for a new public television show. I'd look into the camera and say, "A fun part of exploring Denmark is enjoying the efficiency of the great train system." As usual, I needed about six or eight "takes" to get it right. My Danish friend was laughing the whole time. He finally explained that our train was running eight minutes late, and each time I said my line, all the Danes on the train around me would mutter, "No, no, no." Clearly, it's all relative. While only two trains a day serve my town back home, these trains go six times an hour. And while many Danes go through life without ever getting around to buying a car, they still grouse about things like public transit. My friend said, "We Danes are spoiled. We love to complain."
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=88#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=87 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=87 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 13 Nov 2009 10:18:00 PST

Traveling through Denmark, I enjoy a constant barrage of experiences that give me food for political thought. There's plenty in Denmark that an American who travels as a student of the world can ponder in order to spice up their take on well-worn social and economic issues back home. My next several blog entries will delve into a few of the joys and challenges of Danish life. It also serves as a practical example of how one European country embraces that continent's more "social-istic" system. This snapshot of Danish life is a reminder that you can glean powerful lessons even when you travel to more comfortable countries that don't seem so different from back home.

Wherever you travel, you encounter societies that are driven by a desire for their people to live well. Denmark seems particularly adept at this feat. In survey after survey, when asked whether they're content with their lives, the Danes are routinely found to be among the happiest people on earth. With each visit to Denmark, it's become my mission to figure out: What makes those Danes so darned happy?

Expensive, highly taxed, and highly efficient Denmark confuses me. The affluence of Denmark's Scandinavian cousin in Norway can be explained by their North Sea oil bonanza. But the Danes' leading natural resources are wind power, pigs, and pickled herring. Considering the very high cost of living here, the Danish lifestyle seems richer than their modest after-tax incomes would suggest. In fact, the Danes live extremely well. Traveling through what seems to be a fantasy land, you keep wondering, "How do they do it?"

First off, there's the obvious: Denmark is, simply, pleasant. I'm impressed by how serene things are, even in the bustling capital of Copenhagen. Their new subway is silent, automated, on the honor system (with random ticket checks rather than turnstiles), and trains go literally every two minutes. The streets are so quiet (thanks to downtown pedestrian-only zones) that I don't yell to my friends from a distance⬦I walk over to speak to them in a soft "indoors voice." On my last visit, I saw an angry young man at the Copenhagen train station barking into his mobile phone ' and it occurred to me that in a week in this country, that was the only shouting I'd heard.

When you get beyond Copenhagen and travel into the Danish countryside, you find yourself saying "cute" a lot. Thatched-roof farms dot a green landscape of rolling hills and fields. Sailboats bob in tiny harbors. Parents push kids in prams along pedestrian-only streets. Copper spires create fairy-tale skylines. The place feels like a pitch 'n putt course sparsely inhabited by blonde Vulcans. Travelers here find the human scale and orderliness of Danish society itself the focus of their sightseeing. Everything is just so...Danish.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=87#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=86 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=86 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 11 Nov 2009 09:38:00 PST

Gathering at a hotel on the last night of our educational tour of El Salvador, we enjoyed a trio of guitarists. They are "100 percent popular" (the safe term used these days for anything perfectly in tune with the peoples' struggle). Enjoying their performance, I thought of the guerillas who once laid flat on the floors of their shacks under flying bullets. Strumming guitars quietly on their bellies, they sang forbidden songs. Music is the horse that carries the message of poems ' weapons of a people's irrepressible spirit.

Listening to their music ' love songs to their country ' I stared at the musicians and considered the ongoing struggle. While troubadours sing of Christ's "preferential option for the poor," the forces of globalization relentlessly restructure Salvadoran society with a preferential option for the wealthy. Watching those slender Latino fingers crawl between the frets like guerillas quietly loping through the jungle, I thought of the courageous advocates of the people throughout the developing world, not running from the forces of globalization but courageously engaging them.

They sang, "Our way of life is being erased⬦no more huevos picados, we now have omelets⬦no more colones, we now have dollars." They wondered musically, "How can a combo meal at a fast-food chain cost $8, while $20 gathered at church feeds 200 hungry mouths? Why did God put me here?"

Behind me sat Fernando Cardenal ' white and grandfatherly in his well-worn blue jeans. As the minister of education of Nicaragua's revolutionary Sandinista government back in the 1980s, he fought the US and lost. Today his country ' the revolution purged from its economy ' is even poorer than El Salvador. But his bright eyes nodded to the beat and message of this new generation's musical call to action.

Wrapping up my El Salvador visit with this inspirational concert, I considered how the superstars of nonviolence (Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., John Lennon, Oscar Romero) all seem to get shot. Are the pacifists losers? As a competitive person, I don't like this idea. My 1988 visit to Central America was filled with hope. I came again after the defeat of people's movements in both El Salvador and Nicaragua in 1991. The tide had turned, and I wondered how the spirit of the people's movements ' so exuberant just three years before ' would fare after the American-funded victories in their domestic struggles. Then, in 2005, after 14 years of globalization, it was clear ' there was only one game in town. Sure, Romero lives⬦and Jesus lives. And half the world is trying to live, too⬦on that two bucks a day. As a Christian, I like to see religion function as a liberator rather than an opiate. Perhaps that's why I am so enamored with Liberation Theology in Central America, and why travel here impacts my worldview so powerfully.

Refocusing on the troubadours, I heard them sing, "It's not easy to see God in the child who cleans the windshields at a San Salvador intersection⬦but we must."
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=86#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=85 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=85 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 09 Nov 2009 09:23:00 PST

While visiting El Salvador, my educational tour group toured the University of Central America (UCA). While it felt like a humble college somewhere in Southern California, this place is a cultural and intellectual powerhouse in Central America. It was founded by San Salvador's rich to give their children a safe and conservative environment for a higher education. It's run by Jesuits with the mission of giving students skills to make the world a better place.

Father Sobrino, who is on the faculty, told us the Jesuits' mission today: to create liberation architects, liberation mathematicians, and liberation teachers. UCA gets no money from the government and it's no longer supported by the local elites. It relies on international aid. Because of their liberal teaching spirit, the Christmas packages from the wealthy to the professors stopped coming long ago...and the campus has been bombed 25 times.

Along with Sobrino, the school's six leading Jesuit professors were the intellectual leaders of Liberation Theology in the 1980s. That's why they were considered leaders of the revolution. And that's why, in 1989, they were murdered. (Only Sobrino, who happened to be out of the country, survived.) We walked to a memorial garden where they were killed and heard the story.

Early one morning, the Jesuits were taken from their humble quarters and dragged into the garden. One by one they were shot in the brains with exploding bullets because they were the "brains of the people's movement." Before the government death squad left, they took time to shoot a bullet through the heart of a photo of Archbishop Oscar Romero hanging on the wall⬦still trying to kill him nine years after his death.

Roses grow in a garden marking the place the six Jesuits were killed. The tomb of the six reads: "What it means to be a Jesuit in our time: to commit yourself to take risks in the crucial struggle of our age ' the struggle for faith and the struggle for justice which that same faith demands. We will not work for the promotion of justice without paying a price."

Reading about events in faraway lands in the newspaper, you learn what happened. Then you can flip to the sports pages or comics. But hearing the story of an event from people who lived through it, you feel what happened. Right there behind the bedrooms of those professors, the smell of the flowers, the hard labor of the man bent over in the garden, the quiet focus of students whose parents lost a revolution, the knowledge that my country provided those exploding bullets...all combined to make this experience both vivid and enduring.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=85#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=84 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=84 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 06 Nov 2009 10:28:00 PST

El Salvador's beloved Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down while saying Mass in 1980. And during that time of repression, many nuns and religious laywomen were also murdered. Their spirit, like Romero's, clearly lives on in the feisty women of the church so outspoken in El Salvador today. The nuns I met through my educational tour had a passionate message and lots of quotable quotes:

"The soldiers have faded into the background. They're not shooting people any more. The new martyrs are poor children dying in the face of indifference from people who don't care and whose wealth is harvested from the suffering of others. Excluding and dehumanizing the poor is a kind of terrorism."

"Latin America has one of the biggest gaps between the rich and poor. As the gap grows, it's a kind of war. Hunger is violence. There can be no peace when there is still hunger."

"The push of globalization here has taught us that as humanity learns to worship the god of productivity, a civilization of hopelessness is being created. In traditional rural societies ' like in America during the age of small family farms ' a social fabric protected the poor. Agri-business has sent the rural poor into the cities in search of better jobs. Today's urban poor are isolated, alone, without community. In San Salvador today, we see many finding answers through escapism ' escapism through drugs or through religious fundamentalism."

"'Forgive and forget' is the mantra of the privileged class in El Salvador. The unprivileged can forgive, but they do not want to forget. We need to become 'professors of never again' in our society."

"The US-supported government would prefer to just forget Romero and all he stood for. It controls the media. It writes the text books. On the 10th anniversary of Romero's death, not a word was seen in the newspapers. On the 20th anniversary, Cardinal Mahoney of the US came to the memorial Mass with 40,000 people attending. That was covered modestly in the papers. This year, on the 25th anniversary, the local papers are devoting many pages to the biggest rallies and marches yet. Romero vive!"

"With the spirit of Romero so alive, El Salvador is becoming the school for the globalization of solidarity. As we globalize economics, we need to globalize love and compassion. At the end of our lives, the question will be, 'How much have you loved?'"

"Suffering and sadness are not synonymous. Salvadorans laugh as hard as they cry. They love to say, 'If God wills, tomorrow will be better.' Here in El Salvador we believe that, on the day you meet your maker, you will be met by an angel to wipe away your tears. Woe to you who arrive with dry eyes."

Priests and nuns are routinely excommunicated in Central America for their political activism. While technically booted from their Church, they continue their work without missing a beat, believing, as one priest told me, "Part of our vow of obedience to the Church is disobedience to the Church."
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=84#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=83 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=83 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 04 Nov 2009 14:42:00 PST

The reason for my 2005 visit to El Salvador was to remember Archbishop Oscar Romero on the 25th anniversary of his assassination. Marching with thousands of his followers through the streets of San Salvador, it was clear to me⬦just as Romero prophesized, they killed him yet he lives through his people.

I'll never forget the parade that day. Everyone in our group crayoned Romero Vive ("Romero lives") on our white T-shirts. We piled into the repainted but obviously recycled circa 1960s American school bus (the standard public transport in Central America today), drove as close as we could, and then spilled into the streets. Joining masses of Salvadorans, we funneled through their capital city and to the cathedral, which held the body of their national hero. Entrepreneurs sold bananas from woven bins and drinks in clear plastic bags pierced by paper straws. Parents packed along children born long after Romero's day. Prune-faced old ladies who couldn't handle the long march filled the backs of beat-up pickup trucks adding so rolling "granny floats" to the parade of people. Banks, Western Union offices, strip malls, and fast-food joints seemed to stand still and observe as the marchers shut down the city. Soldiers looking on appeared humbled by the crowd.

Just being there put me in solidarity with a powerful and surging people's spirit. Being a head taller than anyone else and clearly a norteamericano, I had lots of friends. Judging from the smiles I encountered, my presence was appreciated.



The parade culminated at the cathedral where, in his last sermon there, Romero had directed his words to the soldiers: "You are brothers of the poor. These are your people. More important than any order from your commanders is God's order: Thou shalt not kill. I beg you. I implore you. In the name of God, I command you. Stop the killing." The next week, while leading a Mass, Romero was shot dead.

The symbolic resurrection of Romero in his people is depicted in colorful murals showing the people of El Salvador rising like tall stocks of corn with big smiles and bullet wounds in their hands. In Latin America, crosses are decorated with peasants and symbols of their lives ' healthy stocks of corn. While this is a land of martyrs, it's also a fertile land of resurrection.

Oscar Romero is not yet a saint. While the Vatican sends mixed signals, the local Catholic hierarchy is gradually trying to sanitizing his image to be less offensive to the rich. But priests, nuns, and people throughout Central America are not waiting. For them, Oscar Romero is already "San Romero."
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=83#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=82 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=82 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 02 Nov 2009 09:56:00 PST
In our generation, America risks going broke and selling its soul to fight its "War on Terror." The problem is that there's always been terrorism and there always will be terrorism. It's a technique, not an enemy. And because the targeted "enemy" is a technique, you can fight a "War on Terror"...but you cannot win it.

On a recent visit to Washington, DC, I heard lawmakers using the terms "hard power" and "soft power." Hard power assumes that military might is the best way to get what you want. Soft power respects the influence of something less tangible: goodwill. Winning the "hearts and minds" of our would-be enemies, and improving the so-called "Brand of America," makes it harder for foreign terrorists or bombastic leaders to mobilize people against us. Imagine a US president presenting himself in a way that makes it impossible for the leader of a country we're at odds with to demonize the American president in order to stay in power. Imagine using our military to build bridges and highways instead of blowing them up. It'd be better for the innocent people who live in those places (not to mention better for our troops). While this might seem a little too "touchy-feely" for our militaristic society, it's less expensive ' and certainly less destructive ' than hard power.

If we can soften the way we wield our power, we might find some solutions that work better for us...and for the rest of the planet. Is this naive? Maybe. But as we've seen, it's clear the opposite approach has its flaws.

Even when people around the world are frustrated by our policies, they're still inspired by the ideals of America. And, after nearly four decades of travels through political ups and downs ' even when I talk with Salvadorans whose families were torn apart by US-funded soldiers ' it's clear to me that people across the world want to like Americans. My travels have taught me that we have friends everywhere ready to put the past behind them and to once again be inspired by both our ideals and our leadership.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=82#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=81 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=81 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 30 Oct 2009 11:23:00 PST

In my travels ' whether to El Salvador, Europe, or Iran ' I find that many people outside our borders think of the US as an "empire." But anytime I mention this back home, I get a feisty response. (Don't shoot me. I'm just the jester.)

Americans hate thinking of themselves as an empire. After all, weren't we fighting an "empire" in our Revolutionary War? And wasn't it an "empire" that crucified Jesus and persecuted his followers? The USA ' that bastion of freedom and democracy ' might not literally claim other countries as part of our own territory. But only we can declare someone else's natural resources on the far side of our planet "vital to our national security" (but in reality, are vital only to our accustomed material lifestyle).

You could debate long and hard about whether the US is an "empire." But actually, what you and I think is irrelevant. The fact is, much of the world views us that way, and therefore they ' especially our enemies ' will treat us as an empire.

Why are we perceived as an empire by so many people? For starters, look at our United Nations voting record: According to the UN website, in 2007, the US voted "no" more than any other nation. In 40 percent of those "no" votes, we were outvoted by at least 150 to 4. Who stands with us as we oppose issues such as creating a declaration of rights for indigenous peoples, the human right to food, child labor laws, dropping the embargo against Cuba, and restricting illicit small arms trade? Israel, Marshall Islands, and Micronesia. Even if you write off the United Nations as a group of one-world-fixated loonies, many other countries take it seriously...and our dismissal of it speak volumes about our willingness to engage in peaceful and constructive problem-solving.

When others look at us, rather than see a hardworking policeman of the world defending freedom wherever we can, they see a nation with military bases in 130 countries. They see a nation with 4 percent of this planet's people spending as much as everybody else put together on our military.

Many Americans consider the emblems of the Bush years ' Iraq War, Guantánamo, the Abu Ghraib torture scandal, world isolation, domestic surveillance, loss of civil liberties, and so on ' a reasonable price to pay because we avoided another terrorist attack. Much of the rest of the world saw these as an overreaction to a tragic situation. The wave of sympathy that poured into America after 9/11 could have lifted the whole world to an unprecedented new unity. Instead, our leaders manipulated our national grief to justify acts that have alienated us from many of our allies and swollen the ranks of our enemies.

Some might brush off questionable American policies by saying, "Well, that was just our government." We are our government. We cannot rest on the notion of the "innocent civilian." Morally, when it comes to a free and powerful nation like ours, I believe there are no innocent civilians. If I pay taxes, I am a combatant. Every bullet that flies and every bomb that drops has my name on it. It could be a good bomb or a good bullet. Sometimes military action is necessary. But right or wrong, I take moral responsibility for it. That's simply honest, responsible citizenship.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=81#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=80 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=80 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 28 Oct 2009 09:49:00 PST

Today in El Salvador, the FMLN ' formerly a guerrilla liberation movement ' is a legitimate political force. In fact, they made huge strides in the 2009 elections. Rather than the more sinister black and red of its guerilla rebellion days, FMLN propaganda comes in a cheerier white and red. And yet, even as they gradually take over the government, I'm struck by the queasy sensation that they're welcome only as long as they don't get too powerful. Democracy in countries that function as the quarries of capitalism reminds me of a bonsai tree: You keep it in the window for others to see, and when it grows too big, you cut it back.

If Salvadoran voters embrace the FMLN, then who does the cutting? It's still the USA. Much as US corporations exert an undue influence over Latin American business, the US government continues to exert its authority over "democracies" south of our border. For example, in El Salvador's 2004 presidential elections, the left-wing FMLN candidate seemed poised to win. The US sent an envoy, Jeb Bush, to El Salvador to feed the rumor that if the FMLN won, the US would expel the two million Salvadorans living in America. The loss of money from these Salvadoran expats sent to their starving relatives back home would be devastating. A TV ad showed a woman opening an envelope from the US and reading a letter from her son: "Sorry, mom, if the FMLN wins, this will be the last money I can send from the USA." A week later, the right wing and US-friendly ARENA party won big.

You can argue whether American meddling in Latin American politics is justified. Either way, it makes me uncomfortable to think that a nation founded on the principles of liberty and democracy wields such a strong influence south of the border. In recent decades, throughout the developing world, the US has made it clear that if the left-wing candidates win, "relations will suffer."

I asked Father Jon Sobrino (a leading Jesuit priest and scholar at the University of Central America) about America's influence on Salvadoran politics. He said, "These days, when I hear the word 'democracy,' my bowels move."
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=80#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=79 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=79 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:04:00 PST

There's a popular saying in the poor world: Feed the hungry and you're a saint. Ask why they are hungry and you are a communist. In the 1970s, Central American priests started asking why. These Liberation Theologians threatened the powerful⬦and were killed.

When Oscar Romero was made archbishop in 1977, wealthy Salvadorans breathed a sigh of relief. If his reputation as a fairly conservative priest was any indication of how he would run the Church here, they believed the right wing had nothing to fear. But the growing violence against the poor and the repeated killing of church leaders who grappled with economic injustice drove Romero to speak out. Eventually this mild-mannered priest became the charismatic spokesperson of his people.

As a Liberation Theologian, Romero invited his followers to see Christmas as the story of a poor, homeless mother with a hungry baby. Romero taught that the lessons and inspiration offered by the Bible were tools for the faithful as they dealt with the struggles of their day-to-day lives.

Because Archbishop Oscar Romero asked why, he was gunned down in 1980 while saying Mass. Then, dozens of worshippers were murdered at his funeral.

After the killing of Romero, the poor ' emboldened by their Liberation Theology ' rebelled, plunging El Salvador into their long and bloody Civil War. The united guerilla front (FMLN) expected a quick win, but the US under Ronald Reagan spent $1.5 million a day to keep that from happening. With the success of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua in July 1979, Reagan was determined to stop the spread of what he considered to a communist threat.

Salvadoran forces assumed, because the guerillas were maintaining their strength, that innocent civilians in territory leftist forces controlled were no longer innocent. Civilian women and children were considered combatants ' fair game ' in order for the popular revolt to become less popular. As if draining the sea to kill the fish, right-wing forces targeted and terrorized civilians with a brutal vengeance. Notorious "death squads" wrought havoc on El Salvador's poor. Today this policy, considered an option for quelling insurgencies around the world, is known as the "Salvador Option."

While the FMLN could have fought on, the toll on their country was too great. In 1984, negotiations began that finally led to a 1992 peace accord. The negotiated settlement ending the Civil War meant the guerilla forces would trade in their guns for a spot in the government. Suddenly, the guerillas shaved, washed, and found themselves members of parliament representing a now-peaceful FMLN party.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=79#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=78 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=78 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:52:00 PST
In the 1990s, after the peace accords ended the Civil War, this revolutionary movement morphed into a political party (FMLN), and the Christian Base Communities slowly lost their vibrancy. Today, Liberation Theology seems dormant as a political force. The progressive side of the Catholic Church has been tamed.



Instead, there's been a resurgence of "escape theology" ' the apolitical yin to Liberation Theology's yang ' in the form of fundamentalism. North American televangelists supplement this empire-friendly approach to Christianity by inspiring their followers to send money so the downtrodden south of our border can be taught to "just say no" when it comes to the political struggle for dignity. The charismatic, US-friendly Pentecostal faith ' with an emphasis on building a personal relationship with Christ, rather than dealing with the root causes of economic injustice ' is also booming. This "suffer now, enjoy later" theology keeps the opiate in religion. These days, in El Salvador, politics are taboo in many churches. When it comes to economic injustice, don't ask why.

Traveling ' whether in Christian, Muslim, Hindu, or Buddhist lands ' you see how religion injects passion into local politics. Lessons learned on the road tend to give me both empathy for people's struggles and a respect for the importance of separation of religion and state. Just as I oppose prayer in school in the US, I don't like it when a Muslim society becomes a theocracy and legislates morality according to Quranic values. Yet when a politicized Church (such as the one that stood by the revolutionaries of Central America in the 1980s) fights for economic justice, I find myself rooting for the politicization of religion. My heart makes my politics inconsistent. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=78#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=77 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=77 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 21 Oct 2009 00:00:00 PST
Liberation Theology has easy-to-trace roots. In 1959, the success of the Cuban Revolution inspired revolutionary movements throughout Central America. In 1965, Vatican II encouraged the faithful to take their religion a little more personally. In 1968, the Catholic bishops of Latin America met at Medellín (in Columbia). They called for Christians to live out the gospel and encouraged them to find dignity while on earth. Although it didn't have a name yet, this was Liberation Theology.

The movement was officially born in 1972, when Gustavo Gutiérrez published A Theology of Liberation. The 1970s saw the rise of the first Christian Base Communities, which incorporated this take on Christianity into their daily lives. In these Liberation Theology-driven barrios, resurrection is the responsibility of the community. When one is killed, he or she lives on in the community.

As it was in feudal Europe, the power centers in Central America have been the military, the landowners, and the Church. After Vatican II and the bishops' conference at Medellín, the Church decided to embrace Jesus' "preferential option" (or special concern) for the poor. When this happened, the old alliance (state, church, and land-owning elites) ' which had so effectively kept the people down ' began breaking apart. Revolution followed.

Liberation Theology was serious stuff, and the US took note. President Nixon dispatched future Vice President Nelson Rockefeller to Latin America to find out exactly what it was. He helped establish an American Cold War stance that considered this politicization of Christianity (with its Marxist underpinnings) a direct challenge to American interests in Central America.

From this point on, the story of El Salvador's struggle became a story of martyrs. First, politically active peasants were killed. From the 1970s on, Church leaders were targeted. "Be a patriot...kill a priest" was a bumper sticker-like slogan popular among El Salvador's national guard.

I'll cover more points about Liberation Theology in my next blog entry. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=77#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=76 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=76 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 19 Oct 2009 15:56:00 PST

In the Bible, God calls for a Jubilee Year (Leviticus 25:10) ' every fifty years, the land is to be redistributed and debts are to be forgiven. Perhaps God figured that, given the greedy nature of humankind, it takes about fifty years for economic injustice to build to a point that drives a society to violence.

Rich Christians can't imagine God was serious. But the sad modern history of El Salvador shows the wisdom in the Biblical Jubilee year. There's a pattern that I think of as Jubilee massacres: a dramatic spike in violence every fifty years. Twice a century, landless peasants rise up...and are crushed. In the 1830s, an insurrection and its charismatic leader were put down. In 1881, peasants suffered a big and bloody land grab. In 1932, after the great global depression and communist influence made landless peasants both hungry and bold, an estimated 30,000 were massacred following an insurrection. In the 1980s again, the people rose up and were repressed so cruelly that a 12-year Civil War followed. The 1830s, 1881, 1932, the 1980s ' during the last two centuries, El Salvador has endured a slaughter every fifty years.

Thoughtful travelers who respect the Bible can make a point to read it as the majority of Christians on this planet do: through the eyes of the poor world. Christians with two different outlooks could read Matthew 25, where Christ says, "I was hungry and you fed me, imprisoned and you visited me, naked and you clothed me. What you have done to the least of people, you have done to me." One could be motivated to find ways to tackle structural poverty in poor nations. The other might think that's naive, and continue pounding plowshares into swords.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=76#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=75 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=75 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 16 Oct 2009 10:20:00 PST

Our Salvadoran hosts gave my educational tour group a history lesson unlike any I got in my schooling. In 1524, the Spaniards arrived in El Salvador. They killed people, burned villages, and named the place "The Savior" after Christ. Enslaving the locals ' branding them with hot irons like cattle ' those first conquistadors established a persistent pattern:

Under the Spanish, land long used to grow corn (the local staple) was re-cultivated to grow indigo (a better cash crop for export). As indigo needed flat land, locals were displaced and pushed into the hills. Later, when the rise of cotton wiped out the indigo trade, coffee became El Salvador's top cash crop. Coffee needed to be grown on the hillside. So the people were displaced again.

Rebellion after rebellion was put down as the land was Christianized. Making religion the opiate of the masses, the priests preached, "Don't question authority. Heaven awaits those who suffer quietly." (Even today, when labor organizers try to mobilize workers against structural poverty, they hear, "No, our struggles are God's will." Those promoting the left-wing people's party report that their challenge is to teach poor Christian peasants that it's okay to get political and vote for change.)

El Salvador won its independence from Spain in 1821. The local victors were not the indigenous people, but the descendants of those first Spanish conquistadors. They wanted to continue harvesting El Salvador⬦but without giving Spain its cut. Indigenous Salvadorans gained nothing from "independence."

After the popular uprisings and massacres of 1932, indigenous culture was outlawed, the left wing was decimated, and a military dictatorship was established. Those who spoke the indigenous language were killed. Traditional dress was prohibited. After 1932, when a white person looked at an Indian, the Indian's head would drop. To be indigenous was to be subversive. And today, the word indígena still comes with negative connotations: illiterate, ignorant, savage. All these centuries later, some things still haven't changed.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=75#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=74 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=74 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 14 Oct 2009 15:44:00 PST

Overwhelmed by the uncomfortable realities that El Salvador confronted me with, I retreated to a strip mall in a wealthy part of town. I was just settling into a nice, peaceful, comforting latte, like I get each morning back home, when a US military helicopter surged over the horizon. It hovered above for a moment and then clumsily landed. A jolly Santa Claus hopped out to the delight of the children wealthy enough to have moms shopping here.

Looking at those kids and thinking of their dump-dwelling cousins, I realized that, even if you're motivated only by greed, if you know what's good for you, you don't want to be filthy rich in a desperately poor world. I've seen it here in Central America, where fancy houses are built with speed bumps in front forcing angry people to slow down before tossing explosives into their yard enabling guards to get the license plate number. I've seen it in Java, hanging out with rich Chinese behind designer fortifications. And I've seen it in Dallas, driving out to Plano past ten miles of fortified front yards with chicken wire over the top to protect those relatively wealthy children from the have-nots who roam those fine streets.

Feeling the breeze of the chopper as Santa climbed back in and it flew away, I took another sip of the drink I just paid half a day's local wages for. Pulling out my little notebook, I added a few more observations, and continued my education.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=74#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=73 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=73 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 14 Oct 2009 00:00:00 PST


San Salvador's poorest neighborhood is built upon a garbage dump. My educational tour group wandered for an hour around this "city" of 50,000 inhabitants, dusty frills of garbage blowing like old dandelion spores in the wind.

It was a ramshackle world of corrugated tin, broken concrete, and tattered laundry. I'll not forget the piles of scrap metal, the ripped and shredded sofas, tire parts, and filthy plastic bowls I saw stacked neatly at one point. This was a store entirely stocked by junk scavenged from the city dump. Even the store's chairs, tables, walls, and roof were scavenged ' made of battered tin.

Overlooking the shacks was a slap-in-your-face billboard from a local bank, advertising home loans for the wealthy. It read, "With every day that passes, your house is closer to being yours."

We passed through a "suburb" of tin shacks housing people who lived off the dump, passing yards where they sorted out saleable garbage, stacked broken glass, and pounded rusty metal barrels into cooking pots and pans. In a church there was a sandbox manger scene with two soldiers standing over a slashed and bloody campesino positioned next to the Wise Men and cows ' the modern-day soldiers represented the government, while the poor people saw themselves as Christ figures, crucified for the truth.

The people had done what they could to make their slum livable. There was greenery, cute children bringing home huge jugs of water (two cents each), and lots of mud, bamboo, and corrugated tin buildings. As we approached the ridge overlooking the main dump, I started thinking that this really wasn't all that awful.

Then we entered a kind of living hell. We'd heard of the people living off garbage dumps, and now we were in for a firsthand look: huge bulldozers, circling black birds, and a literal mountain of garbage ten stories high with people picking through it. It was a vast urban fruit rind covered with human flies.

A policeman with a machine gun kept the people away from one half of the garbage mountain. That was where aid items that the government figured would cost them too much to disperse were being buried under the garbage. About thirty people gathered. Our guide said they were waiting for the guard to leave. I couldn't believe him. Then the guard left, and all thirty scavengers broke into a run and dashed into the best part of the dump. The smell was sweet and sickening. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=73#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=72 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=72 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 12 Oct 2009 00:00:00 PST


Globalization is all about bigger units ' economic consolidation. More and more banks, publishers, and airlines survive only by consolidating. Family farms can't compete and are plowed under by big agriculture. And many national economies will thrive only if they also consolidate. In an age when international corporations have a greater reach and power than entire countries (ExxonMobil has the same economy as Austria ' $370 billion, Toyota has the same economy as Venezuela ' $230 billion), nations are joining together in ever bigger free trade zones. A primary goal driving the unification of Europe, for instance, was the creation of that vast free trade zone.

As globalization shrinks our planet, people worry that their rights, livelihoods, and identities ' religious, national, and cultural ' are in jeopardy. This means that as our world consolidates economically, it ignites forces that can divide it culturally. As groups perceive that their values and ways of life are threatened, they will embrace even more strongly their cultural distinctions. This is already happening, and issues of cultural and national pride are becoming politicized: Americans fly the Stars and Stripes from car antennas, while Muslim immigrants riot over a cartoon that insults their prophet and insist their children be allowed to wear their headscarves in public schools. This creates a fearful, schizophrenic dynamic that may stoke today's terrorism and tomorrow's international conflicts. As this fear and nationalism make peaceful coexistence more challenging, the value of people building understanding through travel will be greater than ever. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=72#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=71 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=71 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 09 Oct 2009 00:00:00 PST
As a businessman who manufactures some of my travel bags in South Asia, I'm keenly aware that globalization can be either a force for good or a force for harm. I have struggled with and understand the inevitability and moral challenge of it ' there's simply no way to produce a bag that will sell without finding the least expensive combination of quality, labor and materials. I contribute to globalization only because I'm confident that the people who stitch and sew my bags are treated well and paid appropriately. They work for a fraction of the cost of an American, they appreciate the employment, and American consumers want the cheap prices. If I believed that the factory conditions were bad for that community or for its workers, I'd take my business elsewhere. To ensure this, I fly one of my staff to the factory for a periodic re-evaluation. It's a carefully weighed decision that I make with my humanitarian principles (and with the plight of people I met in El Salvador) in mind.

Even if the rudiments of globalization didn't make people's eyes glaze over, it's human nature not to want to know how our affluence impacts others. No comfortable American enjoys being told how her cat is outbidding some hungry child just south of the border, how his investments may be contributing to the destruction of the environment, how the weaponry we sell and profit from is really being used, or how — if you really knew its story — there's blood on your banana. Privilege brings with it the luxurious option of obliviousness. Most Americans don't understand or particularly care about the impact of a new IMF regulation on a person who sews clothing in Honduras or plants coffee beans in Nicaragua. Here in the rich world, the choice is ours: awareness and concern, or ignorance and bliss. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=71#comments