Essential Afro-Latino/ Caribbean Current Events
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True. But who knows? I haven't been to Panama personally
Afro-Chileans Aren’t Done Fighting for Representation on the Next National Census
Translation posted 5 April 2016
The campaign for the inclusion of the Afro-Chileans in statistics, organized by the Luganda NGO with the support from the Ford Foundation. Image: Ong Lumbanga / YouTube.
While preparations for Chile's 2017 census in Chile are underway, the Afro-Chilean community opens another chapter in its struggle for visibility. The community's present fight is with the National Institute of Statistics (INE), which responded negatively to the request of the Afro-Chilean community to include an “Afro-descendant/black” category in its question on indigenous and tribal peoples.
Chile's census contains categories that allow for the identification of the various aboriginal and tribal communities recognized by the Chilean law, but these do not include the population of African descent. According to a study by the INE, however, more than 8,500 Afro-Chileans live in Arica, a port city on Chile's northern border. The study represented a first step for the organizations working for the visibility of the Afro-Chileans and set a precedent in counting the population of African descent. Once this study was completed, the objective of the communities was to be included in the 2017 census, but the INE rejected the proposal.
In response, the “Associations of the Afro-Descendants From the Azapa Ancestral Territory” presented a “protection resource action” against the INE. According to the representatives of the Afro-Chilean community, the action argues that “the arbitrariness and illegality of the action by the INE violates paragraphs 2 and 14 of Article 19 of the Constitution of the Republic […]. These refer to the equality before the Law and the right to present petitions to the authorities.”
The hope is that being included in the census could pave the way for policies aimed at reducing inequality and give rise to actions encompassing several sectors that support these populations in poverty.
According to Rodrigo Ruíz from the alternative media website El Desconcierto, the Afro-Chileans’ fight against the disappearance of their community in statistics, and therefore in public policy, is complex:
A long-standing struggle
Efforts to increase the visibility of the Afro-Chileans have been part of a campaign carried out by the Afro-Latin American and Caribbean communities. In October 2000, the “Regional Seminar Against Racism” took place in Santiago de Chile and included experts on Latin America and the Caribbean, focusing on economic, social, and legal measures to combat racism (with a focus on the vulnerable groups).
Two months later, the social organizations gathered in Santiago de Chile to celebrate, together with official delegations of various governments, the “Preparatory Conference of the Americas Against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Forms of Intolerance.” However, as it can be seen on the Afro-Chileans’ blog, negotiations by 2011, a whole decade later, still showed no tangible results for “technical reasons”:
In an interview with Notivisión (see below), Cristian Báez from the Lumbanga NGO explained the negotiating process with the INE and the importance of the Afro-descendants’ presence on the census. According to Báez, censuses are vital “in order to be able to address public policies straightforwardly” and to have a clear vision of the presence and the needs of the African communities throughout the country, not just in Arica, the region with the highest density of these communities. Báez also touched on the phenomenon of the disappearance of the Chilean Afro-descendants from the official records and from the image of Chile as a country:
Báez also points out the importance of recognizing in the numbers the Afro-descendants from intra-American migration:
The historical presence of Afro-descendants in Chile, as in the rest of the region, dates back to the time of the country's conquest at the hands of the Spanish. A summary with references, documentaries, and criticism is available on the El Desconcierto website in the article “Afrochilenos, los invisibles de la nación” (The Afro-Chileans, the Invisible Ones of the Nation).
Being counted is existing
Another response to the refusal by the INE was a campaign led by Lumbanga and the Associations of the Afro-Descendants From the Azapa Ancestral Territory. The campaign is based on a YouTube video shared on social networks:
The bulk of the campaign is unfolding on the social networks, but not only there. Popular venues such as sports stadiums and cultural events have also been part of the scene. However, the movement has not been free of resistance. In February, a group of fans was removed from the stadium for displaying a banner less than two meters in length with the message “Inclusion of the Afro-Chileans—2017 Census.” According to Roberto Corvacho, one of the people who carried the banner, the goal was “to be recognized as an ethnic group, like our brothers, the Mapuche and the Aymara.”
In the video above, individuals recount how they've been routinely mistaken for foreigners and insulted because of their skin color. Each person claims the identity of African descent, arguing that this should not and does not diminish their belonging to the country, which must find a way to appreciate diversity.
Afro-Chileans Aren’t Done Fighting for Representation on the Next National Census · Global Voices
Translation posted 5 April 2016
The campaign for the inclusion of the Afro-Chileans in statistics, organized by the Luganda NGO with the support from the Ford Foundation. Image: Ong Lumbanga / YouTube.
While preparations for Chile's 2017 census in Chile are underway, the Afro-Chilean community opens another chapter in its struggle for visibility. The community's present fight is with the National Institute of Statistics (INE), which responded negatively to the request of the Afro-Chilean community to include an “Afro-descendant/black” category in its question on indigenous and tribal peoples.
Chile's census contains categories that allow for the identification of the various aboriginal and tribal communities recognized by the Chilean law, but these do not include the population of African descent. According to a study by the INE, however, more than 8,500 Afro-Chileans live in Arica, a port city on Chile's northern border. The study represented a first step for the organizations working for the visibility of the Afro-Chileans and set a precedent in counting the population of African descent. Once this study was completed, the objective of the communities was to be included in the 2017 census, but the INE rejected the proposal.
In response, the “Associations of the Afro-Descendants From the Azapa Ancestral Territory” presented a “protection resource action” against the INE. According to the representatives of the Afro-Chilean community, the action argues that “the arbitrariness and illegality of the action by the INE violates paragraphs 2 and 14 of Article 19 of the Constitution of the Republic […]. These refer to the equality before the Law and the right to present petitions to the authorities.”
The hope is that being included in the census could pave the way for policies aimed at reducing inequality and give rise to actions encompassing several sectors that support these populations in poverty.
According to Rodrigo Ruíz from the alternative media website El Desconcierto, the Afro-Chileans’ fight against the disappearance of their community in statistics, and therefore in public policy, is complex:
A long-standing struggle
Efforts to increase the visibility of the Afro-Chileans have been part of a campaign carried out by the Afro-Latin American and Caribbean communities. In October 2000, the “Regional Seminar Against Racism” took place in Santiago de Chile and included experts on Latin America and the Caribbean, focusing on economic, social, and legal measures to combat racism (with a focus on the vulnerable groups).
Two months later, the social organizations gathered in Santiago de Chile to celebrate, together with official delegations of various governments, the “Preparatory Conference of the Americas Against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Forms of Intolerance.” However, as it can be seen on the Afro-Chileans’ blog, negotiations by 2011, a whole decade later, still showed no tangible results for “technical reasons”:
In an interview with Notivisión (see below), Cristian Báez from the Lumbanga NGO explained the negotiating process with the INE and the importance of the Afro-descendants’ presence on the census. According to Báez, censuses are vital “in order to be able to address public policies straightforwardly” and to have a clear vision of the presence and the needs of the African communities throughout the country, not just in Arica, the region with the highest density of these communities. Báez also touched on the phenomenon of the disappearance of the Chilean Afro-descendants from the official records and from the image of Chile as a country:
Báez also points out the importance of recognizing in the numbers the Afro-descendants from intra-American migration:
The historical presence of Afro-descendants in Chile, as in the rest of the region, dates back to the time of the country's conquest at the hands of the Spanish. A summary with references, documentaries, and criticism is available on the El Desconcierto website in the article “Afrochilenos, los invisibles de la nación” (The Afro-Chileans, the Invisible Ones of the Nation).
Being counted is existing
Another response to the refusal by the INE was a campaign led by Lumbanga and the Associations of the Afro-Descendants From the Azapa Ancestral Territory. The campaign is based on a YouTube video shared on social networks:
The bulk of the campaign is unfolding on the social networks, but not only there. Popular venues such as sports stadiums and cultural events have also been part of the scene. However, the movement has not been free of resistance. In February, a group of fans was removed from the stadium for displaying a banner less than two meters in length with the message “Inclusion of the Afro-Chileans—2017 Census.” According to Roberto Corvacho, one of the people who carried the banner, the goal was “to be recognized as an ethnic group, like our brothers, the Mapuche and the Aymara.”
In the video above, individuals recount how they've been routinely mistaken for foreigners and insulted because of their skin color. Each person claims the identity of African descent, arguing that this should not and does not diminish their belonging to the country, which must find a way to appreciate diversity.
Afro-Chileans Aren’t Done Fighting for Representation on the Next National Census · Global Voices
$cam-U-Well_Jack$on
Superstar
Dope ass thread.
Who is Behind the Cholera Epidemic in Haiti?
By Ezili Dantò
Global Research, July 02, 2016
Region: Latin America & Caribbean
Theme: Crimes against Humanity, United Nations
Distinguished author and lawyer Ezil Danto
A recent article noted that ”Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti’s cholera crisis ”
Here is my analysis again on the whole futility of the Concannon-Kurzban cholera case that’s really another fundraising boon for the 28 billion per year humanitarian industry, on another Haiti crisis.
(Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti's cholera crisis)
The article is about a congressional letter sent to Obama where because a “bipartisan group of 158 members of Congress are ‘deeply concerned’ that the US did not treat the UN’s refusal to accept responsibility for the outbreak with enough urgency.” Now, we all know that Obama was selected, as Minister Farrakhan points out, to run white affairs. Most of these politicians in Congress are there running the government for the one percent. Long ago, HLLN stopped appealing to the destroyers, whose function in our society must be redefined, restructured.
But the article reminds me, it’s been awhile since I’ve hit on the white savior industrial complex cashing in on their imported diseases to Haiti. Their feudal pillage masking as humanitarian aid and “defending” and “helping” Haiti victims of imperialism.
Brian Concannon-Ira Kurzban the ones bringing the cholera case, are, in this case, the control opposition financed by the system of racism/white supremacy. The whites will make money, pad their resumes, Haitians die, Paul Farmer continues to distribute ineffective short term, foul cholera vaccines 6-years after the outbreak began, making hundreds of millions for his p-harm aceutical buddies.
The depths of white depravity is unbounded. It’s a religion that has no logic except making profit off Black bodies and resources. And if they control the cholera victims narrative, they can lead it anywhere they wish. Be on TV legitimizing the UN’s crime against humanity in Haiti by asking the UN to apologize. To apologize for killing over 20,000 people and not inoculating and then not quaranteeing their soldiers, but covering up where the source of the disease came from, denying the importance of the source with a Paul Farmer-CDC public relations spiel in the first months of the outbreak.
Controlled opposition offer nuggets of truth but are essentially working for the perpetrators of the crime, controlling the perpetrators’ exposure to condemnation and ultimately to the most just punishment.
The best way to cover up the UN’s crime against humanity is to “sue” the UN for a way lesser crime, like for not having a claims procedure for Haitians to file their cases, instead of calling them the criminals that they are. For, even if the UN had a claims procedure, based on their history and the incontrovertible evidence, it would never rule against itself in favor of their victims. That’s not even reasonable. It’s like expecting the rapist to admit he’s a rapist and make whole his victim.
But the Concannon-Kurzban crew, marginalized this critical Haiti narrative of HLLN by getting all the press about their “cholera case.” Notice, no media picks up on the Haitian narrative. It’s as if we’re invisible. As if we haven’t pointed out the Concannon-Kurzban legal conflicts of interests. Their close alliance and warm involvement with the occupiers of Haiti.
That Paul Farmer, the UN star consultant and contractor for cholera relief and water detoxification is not on the board of the Brian Concannon’s Institute for Justice and Democracy in Haiti (IJDH) which is purportedly defending the cholera victims.
It’s as if the United States is not complicit in the UN cholera abuse for bringing them to Haiti to carry out their occupation in the first place. That its not the respondiat superior -the employer that also needs to be sued for financing the UN that brought death to Haiti. Because the US is not a name defendant in the Concannon-Kurzban theater, when Obama comes into Court on the side of the UN against the cholera victims, there’s no legal issue about the US involvement and criminal complicity in the cholera abuse case for the judge to consider.
In the final analysis, the Concannon-Kurzban court gesture is an exercise in futility because the military occupation under UN proxy command, imposed by the US, continues unabated with its devastating effects.
In fact, by suing the UN as some humanitarian gone-wrong incident, never mentioning the US occupation or even the UN proxy occupation, the white savior industrial complex indirectly legitimizes the occupation of Haiti and destruction of Haiti sovereignty. It’s the elephant in the Concannon-Kurzban case no one but HLLN sees in the room.
HLLN would have lauded the letter if those Congressspersons had actually faulted Obama and U.S. imperialism in Haiti for bringing the UN to Haiti which then infected Haiti with a gross disease.
But the control opposition at IJDH carved the narrative on the cholera case, so the letter from Congress to Obama is not “Congress faults Obama for the UN over Haiti’s cholera” no. It’s “Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti’s cholera crisis.” Like their not mingled together as employer/ employee. The control opposition that is funded by the UN/USAID and the NGOs masturbating on Black pain, makes sure, that the root cause of why there’s cholera in Haiti, is not on the table for discussion. That a U.S. Boca Raton resident wasn’t the one to sign for MINUSTAH’s presence, but Haitians?
Èzili Dantò, Haitian Lawyers Leadership Network, Free Haiti
The original source of this article is Global Research
Copyright © Ezili Dantò, Global Research, 2016
Who is Behind the Cholera Epidemic in Haiti?
By Ezili Dantò
Global Research, July 02, 2016
Region: Latin America & Caribbean
Theme: Crimes against Humanity, United Nations
Distinguished author and lawyer Ezil Danto
A recent article noted that ”Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti’s cholera crisis ”
Here is my analysis again on the whole futility of the Concannon-Kurzban cholera case that’s really another fundraising boon for the 28 billion per year humanitarian industry, on another Haiti crisis.
(Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti's cholera crisis)
The article is about a congressional letter sent to Obama where because a “bipartisan group of 158 members of Congress are ‘deeply concerned’ that the US did not treat the UN’s refusal to accept responsibility for the outbreak with enough urgency.” Now, we all know that Obama was selected, as Minister Farrakhan points out, to run white affairs. Most of these politicians in Congress are there running the government for the one percent. Long ago, HLLN stopped appealing to the destroyers, whose function in our society must be redefined, restructured.
But the article reminds me, it’s been awhile since I’ve hit on the white savior industrial complex cashing in on their imported diseases to Haiti. Their feudal pillage masking as humanitarian aid and “defending” and “helping” Haiti victims of imperialism.
Oceans of our blood have poured and watered the soil to nourish civilized co-existence on this planet Earth and continue, this very minute, to soak the earth needlessly, simply because Haitians were the first to counter, in combat, European/U.S. biological fatalism, destroy their myth of white superiority and to do what even Spartacus could not.
For whose entertainment shall we sing our agony? To the destroyers, aspiring to extinguish us, reveling in their own fantastic success? The last imbecile to dream such dreams is dead, killed by the saviors of his dreams. – by Ezili Dantò of HLLN
For whose entertainment shall we sing our agony? To the destroyers, aspiring to extinguish us, reveling in their own fantastic success? The last imbecile to dream such dreams is dead, killed by the saviors of his dreams. – by Ezili Dantò of HLLN
Brian Concannon-Ira Kurzban the ones bringing the cholera case, are, in this case, the control opposition financed by the system of racism/white supremacy. The whites will make money, pad their resumes, Haitians die, Paul Farmer continues to distribute ineffective short term, foul cholera vaccines 6-years after the outbreak began, making hundreds of millions for his p-harm aceutical buddies.
The depths of white depravity is unbounded. It’s a religion that has no logic except making profit off Black bodies and resources. And if they control the cholera victims narrative, they can lead it anywhere they wish. Be on TV legitimizing the UN’s crime against humanity in Haiti by asking the UN to apologize. To apologize for killing over 20,000 people and not inoculating and then not quaranteeing their soldiers, but covering up where the source of the disease came from, denying the importance of the source with a Paul Farmer-CDC public relations spiel in the first months of the outbreak.
Controlled opposition offer nuggets of truth but are essentially working for the perpetrators of the crime, controlling the perpetrators’ exposure to condemnation and ultimately to the most just punishment.
The best way to cover up the UN’s crime against humanity is to “sue” the UN for a way lesser crime, like for not having a claims procedure for Haitians to file their cases, instead of calling them the criminals that they are. For, even if the UN had a claims procedure, based on their history and the incontrovertible evidence, it would never rule against itself in favor of their victims. That’s not even reasonable. It’s like expecting the rapist to admit he’s a rapist and make whole his victim.
But the Concannon-Kurzban crew, marginalized this critical Haiti narrative of HLLN by getting all the press about their “cholera case.” Notice, no media picks up on the Haitian narrative. It’s as if we’re invisible. As if we haven’t pointed out the Concannon-Kurzban legal conflicts of interests. Their close alliance and warm involvement with the occupiers of Haiti.
That Paul Farmer, the UN star consultant and contractor for cholera relief and water detoxification is not on the board of the Brian Concannon’s Institute for Justice and Democracy in Haiti (IJDH) which is purportedly defending the cholera victims.
It’s as if the United States is not complicit in the UN cholera abuse for bringing them to Haiti to carry out their occupation in the first place. That its not the respondiat superior -the employer that also needs to be sued for financing the UN that brought death to Haiti. Because the US is not a name defendant in the Concannon-Kurzban theater, when Obama comes into Court on the side of the UN against the cholera victims, there’s no legal issue about the US involvement and criminal complicity in the cholera abuse case for the judge to consider.
In the final analysis, the Concannon-Kurzban court gesture is an exercise in futility because the military occupation under UN proxy command, imposed by the US, continues unabated with its devastating effects.
In fact, by suing the UN as some humanitarian gone-wrong incident, never mentioning the US occupation or even the UN proxy occupation, the white savior industrial complex indirectly legitimizes the occupation of Haiti and destruction of Haiti sovereignty. It’s the elephant in the Concannon-Kurzban case no one but HLLN sees in the room.
HLLN would have lauded the letter if those Congressspersons had actually faulted Obama and U.S. imperialism in Haiti for bringing the UN to Haiti which then infected Haiti with a gross disease.
But the control opposition at IJDH carved the narrative on the cholera case, so the letter from Congress to Obama is not “Congress faults Obama for the UN over Haiti’s cholera” no. It’s “Congress faults Obama for not being tough with UN over Haiti’s cholera crisis.” Like their not mingled together as employer/ employee. The control opposition that is funded by the UN/USAID and the NGOs masturbating on Black pain, makes sure, that the root cause of why there’s cholera in Haiti, is not on the table for discussion. That a U.S. Boca Raton resident wasn’t the one to sign for MINUSTAH’s presence, but Haitians?
Èzili Dantò, Haitian Lawyers Leadership Network, Free Haiti
The original source of this article is Global Research
Copyright © Ezili Dantò, Global Research, 2016
Who is Behind the Cholera Epidemic in Haiti?
Jamaica negotiating cooperation agreement with T&T – PM
Tuesday, July 05, 2016 | 4:28 PM
Prime Minister Andrew Holness
KINGSTON, Jamaica (JIS) Jamaica is negotiating a Joint Commission Agreement with Trinidad and Tobago with the objective of developing a mutually beneficial cooperation programme.
This was disclosed by Prime Minister Andrew Holness as he addressed the opening ceremony of the 37th regular meeting of the Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community (Caricom), which is being held in Georgetown, Guyana, from July 4-6.
“We intend to undertake similar initiatives with other member States,” Holness said.
He noted that strengthening bilateral relations is an important element of the regional relationship, and is something that members of Caricom should give more attention.
“We believe that bilateral consultations supported by additional effort in the institutions of our community can make the movement of labour equal with the movement of goods, extending the progress and benefit of the integration effort,” Holness said.
The prime minister noted that Jamaicans have been expressing concerns about increased denial of entry to other jurisdictions and also question the treatment at ports of entry.
“These must be urgently addressed in a meaningful way, otherwise the economic sense of Caricom becomes increasingly questioned itself. We have begun to discuss the matter bilaterally and we are encouraged by the level of understanding and responsiveness to our concerns,” he pointed out.
Jamaica negotiating cooperation agreement with T&T – PM - News
Tuesday, July 05, 2016 | 4:28 PM
Prime Minister Andrew Holness
KINGSTON, Jamaica (JIS) Jamaica is negotiating a Joint Commission Agreement with Trinidad and Tobago with the objective of developing a mutually beneficial cooperation programme.
This was disclosed by Prime Minister Andrew Holness as he addressed the opening ceremony of the 37th regular meeting of the Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community (Caricom), which is being held in Georgetown, Guyana, from July 4-6.
“We intend to undertake similar initiatives with other member States,” Holness said.
He noted that strengthening bilateral relations is an important element of the regional relationship, and is something that members of Caricom should give more attention.
“We believe that bilateral consultations supported by additional effort in the institutions of our community can make the movement of labour equal with the movement of goods, extending the progress and benefit of the integration effort,” Holness said.
The prime minister noted that Jamaicans have been expressing concerns about increased denial of entry to other jurisdictions and also question the treatment at ports of entry.
“These must be urgently addressed in a meaningful way, otherwise the economic sense of Caricom becomes increasingly questioned itself. We have begun to discuss the matter bilaterally and we are encouraged by the level of understanding and responsiveness to our concerns,” he pointed out.
Jamaica negotiating cooperation agreement with T&T – PM - News
Watch: This Afro-Cuban Community is Singing in an Almost Extinct African Language Proving the Bounds are Not Forever Broken
July 4, 2016 | Posted by Ricky Riley
Tagged With: Afro-Cubans, Gangá-Longobá, slavery in latin america, They Are We documentary
The documentary “They Are We” tells the story of a lost Afro-Cuban community that share nearly the same culture as a remote tribe in Sierra Leone.
Researcher and educator at the University of Sydney, Emma Christopher, was responsible for connecting the two long lost groups.
In the trailer, an Afro-Cuban community in Perico performs some of their traditional songs and dances that have been broadcast across the Atlantic to Sierra Leone. The Gangá-Longobá in Africa recognized the songs and the dances and instantly a connection was struck.
The most remarkable thing they found familiar was the Banta language of the Gangá-Longobá. It suggests that even through the evils of the slavery, the community in perico maintained its African roots.
Watch: This Afro-Cuban Community is Singing in an Almost Extinct African Language Proving the Bounds are Not Forever Broken
July 4, 2016 | Posted by Ricky Riley
Tagged With: Afro-Cubans, Gangá-Longobá, slavery in latin america, They Are We documentary
The documentary “They Are We” tells the story of a lost Afro-Cuban community that share nearly the same culture as a remote tribe in Sierra Leone.
Researcher and educator at the University of Sydney, Emma Christopher, was responsible for connecting the two long lost groups.
In the trailer, an Afro-Cuban community in Perico performs some of their traditional songs and dances that have been broadcast across the Atlantic to Sierra Leone. The Gangá-Longobá in Africa recognized the songs and the dances and instantly a connection was struck.
The most remarkable thing they found familiar was the Banta language of the Gangá-Longobá. It suggests that even through the evils of the slavery, the community in perico maintained its African roots.
Watch: This Afro-Cuban Community is Singing in an Almost Extinct African Language Proving the Bounds are Not Forever Broken
The racial tensions in the US are getting so crazy that other countries, with majority melanated people, are issuing travel warnings to it's citizens.
MES DE LA AFRODESCENDENCIA
Pobreza en la población afro uruguaya bajó casi 34% en nueve años
El porcentaje de personas afro uruguayas bajo la línea de pobreza pasó de 55,4% en 2006 a 21,8% en 2015, según una encuesta presentada este jueves en el evento “Quilombo 2016” en el que se celebró el mes de la afrodescendencia.
08 de julio de 2016 a las 18:05 hs
Foto con fines ilustrativos: redbarriosurypalermo.blogspot.com.
En el marco de la celebración del mes de la afrodescendencia, este jueves se llevó a cabo un evento denominado “Quilombo 2016” en el que se discutió sobre el racismo institucional. Allí, el Instituto Nacional de Mujeres y el Instituto Nacional de Estadísticas (INE) presentaron en conjunto una encuesta sobre la situación económica de las personas afro uruguayas desde 2006 hasta el año pasado.
En 2006, el porcentaje de personas afro uruguayas que residían en hogares en situación de pobreza era de 55,4%. En 2010, la cifra bajó a 36,1% y, en 2015, la población afro uruguaya que vivía en situación de pobreza era de 21,8%.
Según el último Censo realizado en Uruguay en 2011, el 8,1% de los 3.4 millones de habitantes de Uruguay se considera afrodescendiente. De estos, la mitad vive en Montevideo y la mitad en el Interior, especialmente en las zonas de frontera con Brasil.
Políticas públicas
Miguel Pereira, integrante de la división de Derechos Humanos de la dirección nacional de Promoción Sociocultural del Ministerio de Desarrollo Social (MIDES), dijo que Uruguay “ha avanzado” en la implementación de políticas públicas para afrodescendientes, hecho que se demuestra en los indicadores sociales, económicos y culturales.
“Hoy los índices de pobreza han bajado, lo que seguimos reafirmando es el tema de la brecha racial existente entre la población afro con el resto de la población, eso no lo hemos podido revertir, y nuestras políticas están enfocadas a reducir esta brecha“, dijo.
Por su parte, la ministra de Educación y Cultura, María Julia Muñoz, afirmó que la temática de la afrodescendencia está “tomando cada vez más protagonismo” en la agenda pública del país, y llamó a “multiplicar los esfuerzos” contra todo acto de discriminación.
“La diversidad y la igualdad son el anverso y el reverso de una misma moneda que deben ser preservados y desarrollados. La educación y la cultura trasmiten ideas y valores y nociones del mundo y allí se apunta a fortalecer, desde etapas tempranas, en los niños el sentido del respeto, el afecto y la valoración“, afirmó.
Pobreza en la población afro uruguaya bajó casi 34% en nueve años - Noticias Uruguay LARED21
Lol I couldn't find this in English
Basically black poverty has decline substantially in Uruguay
Afro-Latino Festival Celebrates The African Influence On Latin American Culture
Meet the festival's Afro-Panamanian founders ahead of this weekend's celebrations in New York.
By Luna Olavarría Gallegos
Back in February, in a cover story on J. Balvin for The FADER’s Global Issue, writer Marlon Bishop recognized an important but sometimes overlooked point in reggaetón: Balvin’s whiteness may have helped his career. “Racism is very different in Latin America,” wrote Bishop, “but it’s no less insidious.” Even though reggaetón was invented by black Panamanians in the 1980s and was inspired by black Jamaican dancehall music by way of Puerto Rico, Latin American reggaetón artists who find commercial success are overwhelmingly white.
An event trying to challenge that is Afro-Latino Festival. In the years since its debut in 2013, it’s helped create a space for Afro-Latinos in New York City to appreciate the African influence on Latin American culture and black Latino artists. This year, for example, you can catch Panamanian rap-duo Los Rakas, Cuban electronic fusionist DJ Jigüe, and New York City rapper Princess Nokia during the three-day showcase. The festival was started from scratch by Mai-elka Prado and Amilcar Priestley, an Afro-Panamanian couple based in New York City, and has since grown to include talks, presentations, and sets that work in collaboration with local, national, and international groups and movements. This includes their ongoing support of the United Nations initiative “International Decade for People of African Descent,” which will be celebrated in part this year through a keynote talk at the festival from Ahmed Reid Springer.
I spoke to Prado and Priestley over the phone, a day after their child was due to be born, about how they created their festival to honors the African-influenced rhythms, melodies, and dance of Latin America.
Why did you start the festival?
MAI-ELKA PRADO: First and foremost, it was important for me because I realized there weren’t events that concentrated on Afro-Latino music, influence, and organization. In New York there was no space in the open air for this. There are a lot of cultural events that celebrate culture but for us Afro-Latinos there weren’t any.
So we started working on really putting this need into our lives. We had different non-profit organizations that were doing work with Afro-Latinos and making sure this event exists. We started in Parkside Avenue close to Prospect Park, as it’s really small, and little by little we started to grow. Our line-up has been tremendous — it’s grown a lot just last year to this one.
Why was it important to do this festival in New York City?
PRADO: This is the center of the situations, right? Here we can find the problems of all the different countries, and we can find Afro-Latinos from every country of Latin America. So that’s a huge window. It’s like a perfect niche to begin planting the seed of knowledge, understanding, and recognition of black people in Latin America. This is the place to do it, and luckily, we’ve started here.
AMILCAR PRIESTLEY: Last month a number of communities recognized Black History celebrations. So in Guatemala, Nicaragua, Honduras, Coasts in Costa Rica and Panama they were celebrating Maypole. You had the Dia de la Afro-Colombianidad which was May 21. You had Dia de Las Trenzas in Panama, which was Day of Braids, and Haitian Flag Day. Also June 4, we had National Afro-Peruvian day.
This festival, on my end, is an important platform that aims to connect the dots between the socioeconomic, political, cultural, and spiritual, in the best way possible and engage the community. Folks were very excited that it was happening, they felt like it was long overdue. So it's an exciting opportunity to be able to push the conversation forward, especially when the younger generations are becoming more interested. There's a re-awakening amongst folks who may or may not have been aware of the past, and it will help re-invigorate those who have been doing this work for a long time. To see new generations coming in, carrying on the conversation, moving the conversation forward. That's what we're trying to do with the big symposium at the Schomburg [Center for Research in Black Culture].
Can you talk more about your partnership with the Schomburg?
PRADO: We’ve incorporated another element this year, which are conferences that we call “The Afro-Latino Talks.” Through these [talks] we are giving the festival another power. It's not only about dancing and partying, but also about [giving space to] themes that are important we talk about. We have to create consciousness amongst ourselves and with the public.
I think that as community organizers of this cultural event, we have the responsibility, before anything else, to show the Afro-Latino voice and to highlight the presence of Afro-Latinos in New York. We need to make that connection between Afro-Latino communities here and in Latin America. In one way or another, we all return. We all go to visit our grandmothers in our countries. That’s part of our culture, so this link cannot be cut.
"We all know that African culture and influence in Latin America has been erased throughout history, and this event is helping change that."
Can you talk about the problems in Latin America that led to you creating the festival?
PRADO: We all know that African culture and influence in Latin America has been erased throughout history, and this event is helping change that. Through getting to know each other, working together, and sustaining communities in our international networks.
That’s important — we have to make change to move forward. The person who knows their country and their culture knows that in, one way or another, there’s the African influence — the task is recognizing it. For example, how do we decide to label that genre of music? Even though we don’t see it and it’s not promoted on a large scale, it’s not recognized for what it is — having African instruments, dance, and influence.
This festival isn’t only for Afro-Latinos. It’s for Afro-Latinos but also for whoever makes or uses that type of music, so that they respect and honor AfroLatinidad within their work. And that’s our work. It’s our labor — through communal inclusion, we hope to shine more light to the idea that we are invisible, but we need to find our spot.
What are some of the music genres that you're trying to reclaim?
PRIESTLEY: In Colombia we have champeta. There’s bullerengue, which is a type of traditional music from the Palenqueras regions. You can also find bullerengue in Panama. The music of communities in the islands of San Andres, provinces of Santa Catalina, are also of Afro-Caribbean influence — creolle, soca, calypso. Tango, the dance and the music of around Chile and Argentina, comes from African influence.
What artists do you have this year?
PRADO: We have an initiative that we’re proud to start this year. We're working in a partnership with the United Nations to celebrate and get to know a different black community in Latin America over the next 10 years. This year, we are dedicating part of the show to the Afro-Panamanian community. So because of that, this year we have Los Rakas headlining, who are from California by way of Panama. We’ve seen the progress of this festival, and Los Rakas is a testimony to how perseverance pays.
And then from Panama, there’s a group called Joshue Ashby. They’re from the city of Colón, one of the original Afro-descendent cities in Panama. They’re an incredible group. We also have a group called Mecanik Informal that does timba, they're really fun and talented. And Afrodisiaco, a project seeking to rescue and promote Panamanian identity. [See the full line-up below.]
"It’s so satisfactory for us not to feel like we are just one voice, but that we have the support of people because of our perseverance."
What are some of the challenges you've faced in putting on the festival?
PRADO: Everything has been difficult in one way or another. We had to start from zero for a concept that did not exist. In [Afro-Latino] communities, opening the minds of people about the different concepts that the festival promotes is not easy — but it’s not impossible. We’ve been fortunate enough to be within communities and have organizations that are willing to work with us.
Of course, the funding for the festival takes a lot of time. We have put together our own, but raising funds to support the festival has been challenging.
And what about the successes?
PRADO: So many. We have successfully brought together thousands of people. We have grown from just one day on a corner in Brooklyn, to three days in Harlem, Brooklyn, and activities in The Bronx and Queens We’ve invited international artists. And the concept has grown tremendously. That’s the greatest achievement — to see the fruits of our labor.
Every year there are more people supporting the festival and offering their hand. It’s so satisfactory for us not to feel like we are just one voice, but that we have the support of people and observers because of our perseverance.
Afro-Latino Festival will take place this July 8-10.
Afro-Latino Festival Celebrates The African Influence On Latin American Culture
Meet the festival's Afro-Panamanian founders ahead of this weekend's celebrations in New York.
By Luna Olavarría Gallegos
Back in February, in a cover story on J. Balvin for The FADER’s Global Issue, writer Marlon Bishop recognized an important but sometimes overlooked point in reggaetón: Balvin’s whiteness may have helped his career. “Racism is very different in Latin America,” wrote Bishop, “but it’s no less insidious.” Even though reggaetón was invented by black Panamanians in the 1980s and was inspired by black Jamaican dancehall music by way of Puerto Rico, Latin American reggaetón artists who find commercial success are overwhelmingly white.
An event trying to challenge that is Afro-Latino Festival. In the years since its debut in 2013, it’s helped create a space for Afro-Latinos in New York City to appreciate the African influence on Latin American culture and black Latino artists. This year, for example, you can catch Panamanian rap-duo Los Rakas, Cuban electronic fusionist DJ Jigüe, and New York City rapper Princess Nokia during the three-day showcase. The festival was started from scratch by Mai-elka Prado and Amilcar Priestley, an Afro-Panamanian couple based in New York City, and has since grown to include talks, presentations, and sets that work in collaboration with local, national, and international groups and movements. This includes their ongoing support of the United Nations initiative “International Decade for People of African Descent,” which will be celebrated in part this year through a keynote talk at the festival from Ahmed Reid Springer.
I spoke to Prado and Priestley over the phone, a day after their child was due to be born, about how they created their festival to honors the African-influenced rhythms, melodies, and dance of Latin America.
Why did you start the festival?
MAI-ELKA PRADO: First and foremost, it was important for me because I realized there weren’t events that concentrated on Afro-Latino music, influence, and organization. In New York there was no space in the open air for this. There are a lot of cultural events that celebrate culture but for us Afro-Latinos there weren’t any.
So we started working on really putting this need into our lives. We had different non-profit organizations that were doing work with Afro-Latinos and making sure this event exists. We started in Parkside Avenue close to Prospect Park, as it’s really small, and little by little we started to grow. Our line-up has been tremendous — it’s grown a lot just last year to this one.
Why was it important to do this festival in New York City?
PRADO: This is the center of the situations, right? Here we can find the problems of all the different countries, and we can find Afro-Latinos from every country of Latin America. So that’s a huge window. It’s like a perfect niche to begin planting the seed of knowledge, understanding, and recognition of black people in Latin America. This is the place to do it, and luckily, we’ve started here.
AMILCAR PRIESTLEY: Last month a number of communities recognized Black History celebrations. So in Guatemala, Nicaragua, Honduras, Coasts in Costa Rica and Panama they were celebrating Maypole. You had the Dia de la Afro-Colombianidad which was May 21. You had Dia de Las Trenzas in Panama, which was Day of Braids, and Haitian Flag Day. Also June 4, we had National Afro-Peruvian day.
This festival, on my end, is an important platform that aims to connect the dots between the socioeconomic, political, cultural, and spiritual, in the best way possible and engage the community. Folks were very excited that it was happening, they felt like it was long overdue. So it's an exciting opportunity to be able to push the conversation forward, especially when the younger generations are becoming more interested. There's a re-awakening amongst folks who may or may not have been aware of the past, and it will help re-invigorate those who have been doing this work for a long time. To see new generations coming in, carrying on the conversation, moving the conversation forward. That's what we're trying to do with the big symposium at the Schomburg [Center for Research in Black Culture].
Can you talk more about your partnership with the Schomburg?
PRADO: We’ve incorporated another element this year, which are conferences that we call “The Afro-Latino Talks.” Through these [talks] we are giving the festival another power. It's not only about dancing and partying, but also about [giving space to] themes that are important we talk about. We have to create consciousness amongst ourselves and with the public.
I think that as community organizers of this cultural event, we have the responsibility, before anything else, to show the Afro-Latino voice and to highlight the presence of Afro-Latinos in New York. We need to make that connection between Afro-Latino communities here and in Latin America. In one way or another, we all return. We all go to visit our grandmothers in our countries. That’s part of our culture, so this link cannot be cut.
"We all know that African culture and influence in Latin America has been erased throughout history, and this event is helping change that."
Can you talk about the problems in Latin America that led to you creating the festival?
PRADO: We all know that African culture and influence in Latin America has been erased throughout history, and this event is helping change that. Through getting to know each other, working together, and sustaining communities in our international networks.
That’s important — we have to make change to move forward. The person who knows their country and their culture knows that in, one way or another, there’s the African influence — the task is recognizing it. For example, how do we decide to label that genre of music? Even though we don’t see it and it’s not promoted on a large scale, it’s not recognized for what it is — having African instruments, dance, and influence.
This festival isn’t only for Afro-Latinos. It’s for Afro-Latinos but also for whoever makes or uses that type of music, so that they respect and honor AfroLatinidad within their work. And that’s our work. It’s our labor — through communal inclusion, we hope to shine more light to the idea that we are invisible, but we need to find our spot.
What are some of the music genres that you're trying to reclaim?
PRIESTLEY: In Colombia we have champeta. There’s bullerengue, which is a type of traditional music from the Palenqueras regions. You can also find bullerengue in Panama. The music of communities in the islands of San Andres, provinces of Santa Catalina, are also of Afro-Caribbean influence — creolle, soca, calypso. Tango, the dance and the music of around Chile and Argentina, comes from African influence.
What artists do you have this year?
PRADO: We have an initiative that we’re proud to start this year. We're working in a partnership with the United Nations to celebrate and get to know a different black community in Latin America over the next 10 years. This year, we are dedicating part of the show to the Afro-Panamanian community. So because of that, this year we have Los Rakas headlining, who are from California by way of Panama. We’ve seen the progress of this festival, and Los Rakas is a testimony to how perseverance pays.
And then from Panama, there’s a group called Joshue Ashby. They’re from the city of Colón, one of the original Afro-descendent cities in Panama. They’re an incredible group. We also have a group called Mecanik Informal that does timba, they're really fun and talented. And Afrodisiaco, a project seeking to rescue and promote Panamanian identity. [See the full line-up below.]
"It’s so satisfactory for us not to feel like we are just one voice, but that we have the support of people because of our perseverance."
What are some of the challenges you've faced in putting on the festival?
PRADO: Everything has been difficult in one way or another. We had to start from zero for a concept that did not exist. In [Afro-Latino] communities, opening the minds of people about the different concepts that the festival promotes is not easy — but it’s not impossible. We’ve been fortunate enough to be within communities and have organizations that are willing to work with us.
Of course, the funding for the festival takes a lot of time. We have put together our own, but raising funds to support the festival has been challenging.
And what about the successes?
PRADO: So many. We have successfully brought together thousands of people. We have grown from just one day on a corner in Brooklyn, to three days in Harlem, Brooklyn, and activities in The Bronx and Queens We’ve invited international artists. And the concept has grown tremendously. That’s the greatest achievement — to see the fruits of our labor.
Every year there are more people supporting the festival and offering their hand. It’s so satisfactory for us not to feel like we are just one voice, but that we have the support of people and observers because of our perseverance.
Afro-Latino Festival will take place this July 8-10.
Afro-Latino Festival Celebrates The African Influence On Latin American Culture
Sometimes, the Diaspora Needs to Have a Seat and Listen
[Opinion] When it comes to helping out, the people of the Diaspora may mean well, but sometimes they need to fall back and listen to those back in our homelands.
by France François, July 11, 2016
"With your blog post, you’re supporting the very regime that crushes my Afro-Cuban brothers and sisters,” came an angry response from the Cuban exile community in Miami to my blog post about my recent trip to Santiago de Cuba. The commentator went on to accuse me of being a propagandist and ignoring any facts that didn’t support her perspective about Cuba from thousands of miles away. I was taken aback by this knee-jerk reaction to dismiss a depiction of Cuba as a complex, culturally rich place rather than the romanticized utopia of most travel blogs, or the politically-expedient “dystopian society under a tyrant’s grip”.
Cuban-Americans have traditionally been the most fervent supporters of the U.S. embargo against Cuba. However, what one immediately notices upon arriving in Cuba is that the embargo has only perpetuated the classism and racism that the Cuban Revolution claimed to want to end. In a society where the average monthly wage is $18, White Cubans from Miami and elsewhere are able to send money directly to their relatives so that those relatives can climb the socioeconomic ladder and bypass the harshest impacts of the embargo by redecorating their homes to rent out rooms, updating their cars to provide taxi services to tourists, or opening restaurants and cafes.
Given the nature of migration out of Cuba, however, Afro-Cubans remain the most socially and economically marginalized by the embargo, rarely having family abroad to support them. Despite the claims of the Cuban exile community, an Amnesty International report said: “The negative impact of the embargo is pervasive in the social, economic and environmental dimensions of human development in Cuba, severely affecting the most vulnerable socioeconomic groups of the Cuban population.”
The perspective of the people in Cuba themselves—especially the Afro-Cubans—was in direct contrast with the Cuban American woman who commented on my blog as the self-appointed voice of the people. Many of the Afro-Cubans I encountered welcomed and celebrated the easing of relations between the U.S. and Cuba and fervently asked that I share my experience with others. They genuinely enjoyed the opportunity to reach out to the rest of the world. They wanted to welcome tourists into their homes and be able to open businesses in order to ascend to the middle class in a way that the embargo had always prevented them from doing. And, at the most basic level, their lives depended on the renewed ability to access the food, freedoms, and medicines that the embargo had routinely denied them.
This level of detachment from the realities on the ground and the need to hold on to a past that no longer exists, regardless of the consequences, isn’t restricted to just the Cuban exile community. An example of the consequences of a vocal, yet uninformed diaspora played out in the Haitian-American community during the Clinton Administration. After democratically-elected President Aristide was removed in a military coup, the Haitian diaspora became pawns put forth to legitimize the U.S. embargo against Haiti. If the Haitian diaspora had simply looked towards our Cuban neighbors, we would have seen the crippling socioeconomic impacts and long-term ineffectiveness of an embargo. However, like our Cuban counterparts, many Haitian-American leaders at the time operated with a single-minded political agenda that did not prioritize the needs of the people in Haiti. Thus, the relatively short-lived embargo rendered Haiti unable to trade with other countries, forced much of Haiti’s manufacturing industry to permanently shut down, agricultural production took a dive, deforestation was exacerbated, and the human rights violations perpetuated by the regime only increased. Malnutrition, famine, and high unemployment were all the inevitable end results. The impacts can still be felt today in Haiti.
Our inability, at times, to accept that the narrative we’ve been telling ourselves needs to be updated causes our interventions to become problematic.
“Earlier immigrants may have had to lie to themselves to assimilate or cope with migration, leaving our generation with half-truths,” said the Ecuadorian-American travel writer, Bani Amor. “It's common to see uneducated diasporic people regurgitating narratives that can be traced back to a problematic root. Some critical education would ameliorate these issues, along with the understanding that you can't and should not be “speaking for” your people as a whole, especially if you've never/seldom been to that place.”
I learned this lesson when the former dictator Jean Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier unceremoniously returned to Haiti in 2011 as the country was still reeling under the devastation of the earthquake. I was filled with a sense of righteous outrage for all that my family had lost and all that my people had suffered under his reign of terror. When I called my mother, the person who had suffered the most in our family, she listened quietly to my rant before replying solemnly, “At least under Duvalier people had enough to eat.” I felt my anger dissipate under the weight of her words and the message she was trying to convey to me from our position of privilege in the U.S.: have enough humility to remember that the people in the country we left have needs that outweigh your current priorities.
There is a level of hubris in being able to create policies from afar that impact the lives of people in a country you or your parents left decades ago. As members of diaspora communities, it’s time to admit that we can get it wrong and, when we do, the consequences can be detrimental for generations. Or, as Bani put it, “Simply being [blank] doesn't automatically endow you with any cultural wisdom.” If we are not careful, our voice can be used to legitimatize what is essentially imperialism in countries we claim to care about. Rather than demand to lead, we have to take our marching orders from the people on the ground themselves and use our access and privilege to help them shape their country and their future.
Read more at EBONY Sometimes, the Diaspora Needs to Have a Seat and Listen
Follow us: @EbonyMag on Twitter | EbonyMag on Facebook
[Opinion] When it comes to helping out, the people of the Diaspora may mean well, but sometimes they need to fall back and listen to those back in our homelands.
by France François, July 11, 2016
"With your blog post, you’re supporting the very regime that crushes my Afro-Cuban brothers and sisters,” came an angry response from the Cuban exile community in Miami to my blog post about my recent trip to Santiago de Cuba. The commentator went on to accuse me of being a propagandist and ignoring any facts that didn’t support her perspective about Cuba from thousands of miles away. I was taken aback by this knee-jerk reaction to dismiss a depiction of Cuba as a complex, culturally rich place rather than the romanticized utopia of most travel blogs, or the politically-expedient “dystopian society under a tyrant’s grip”.
Cuban-Americans have traditionally been the most fervent supporters of the U.S. embargo against Cuba. However, what one immediately notices upon arriving in Cuba is that the embargo has only perpetuated the classism and racism that the Cuban Revolution claimed to want to end. In a society where the average monthly wage is $18, White Cubans from Miami and elsewhere are able to send money directly to their relatives so that those relatives can climb the socioeconomic ladder and bypass the harshest impacts of the embargo by redecorating their homes to rent out rooms, updating their cars to provide taxi services to tourists, or opening restaurants and cafes.
Given the nature of migration out of Cuba, however, Afro-Cubans remain the most socially and economically marginalized by the embargo, rarely having family abroad to support them. Despite the claims of the Cuban exile community, an Amnesty International report said: “The negative impact of the embargo is pervasive in the social, economic and environmental dimensions of human development in Cuba, severely affecting the most vulnerable socioeconomic groups of the Cuban population.”
The perspective of the people in Cuba themselves—especially the Afro-Cubans—was in direct contrast with the Cuban American woman who commented on my blog as the self-appointed voice of the people. Many of the Afro-Cubans I encountered welcomed and celebrated the easing of relations between the U.S. and Cuba and fervently asked that I share my experience with others. They genuinely enjoyed the opportunity to reach out to the rest of the world. They wanted to welcome tourists into their homes and be able to open businesses in order to ascend to the middle class in a way that the embargo had always prevented them from doing. And, at the most basic level, their lives depended on the renewed ability to access the food, freedoms, and medicines that the embargo had routinely denied them.
This level of detachment from the realities on the ground and the need to hold on to a past that no longer exists, regardless of the consequences, isn’t restricted to just the Cuban exile community. An example of the consequences of a vocal, yet uninformed diaspora played out in the Haitian-American community during the Clinton Administration. After democratically-elected President Aristide was removed in a military coup, the Haitian diaspora became pawns put forth to legitimize the U.S. embargo against Haiti. If the Haitian diaspora had simply looked towards our Cuban neighbors, we would have seen the crippling socioeconomic impacts and long-term ineffectiveness of an embargo. However, like our Cuban counterparts, many Haitian-American leaders at the time operated with a single-minded political agenda that did not prioritize the needs of the people in Haiti. Thus, the relatively short-lived embargo rendered Haiti unable to trade with other countries, forced much of Haiti’s manufacturing industry to permanently shut down, agricultural production took a dive, deforestation was exacerbated, and the human rights violations perpetuated by the regime only increased. Malnutrition, famine, and high unemployment were all the inevitable end results. The impacts can still be felt today in Haiti.
Our inability, at times, to accept that the narrative we’ve been telling ourselves needs to be updated causes our interventions to become problematic.
“Earlier immigrants may have had to lie to themselves to assimilate or cope with migration, leaving our generation with half-truths,” said the Ecuadorian-American travel writer, Bani Amor. “It's common to see uneducated diasporic people regurgitating narratives that can be traced back to a problematic root. Some critical education would ameliorate these issues, along with the understanding that you can't and should not be “speaking for” your people as a whole, especially if you've never/seldom been to that place.”
I learned this lesson when the former dictator Jean Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier unceremoniously returned to Haiti in 2011 as the country was still reeling under the devastation of the earthquake. I was filled with a sense of righteous outrage for all that my family had lost and all that my people had suffered under his reign of terror. When I called my mother, the person who had suffered the most in our family, she listened quietly to my rant before replying solemnly, “At least under Duvalier people had enough to eat.” I felt my anger dissipate under the weight of her words and the message she was trying to convey to me from our position of privilege in the U.S.: have enough humility to remember that the people in the country we left have needs that outweigh your current priorities.
There is a level of hubris in being able to create policies from afar that impact the lives of people in a country you or your parents left decades ago. As members of diaspora communities, it’s time to admit that we can get it wrong and, when we do, the consequences can be detrimental for generations. Or, as Bani put it, “Simply being [blank] doesn't automatically endow you with any cultural wisdom.” If we are not careful, our voice can be used to legitimatize what is essentially imperialism in countries we claim to care about. Rather than demand to lead, we have to take our marching orders from the people on the ground themselves and use our access and privilege to help them shape their country and their future.
Read more at EBONY Sometimes, the Diaspora Needs to Have a Seat and Listen
Follow us: @EbonyMag on Twitter | EbonyMag on Facebook
MUSINGS FROM AN AFRO-COSTA RICAN
A rare find: African voices in the Costa Rican National Archives
NATASHA GORDON-CHIPEMBERE | 2 DAYS AGO
Cacao beans were the results of many slaves’ labor, and sometimes the currency that obtained their freedom. Isai Symens via Wikimedia Commons
Though Costa Rica had its own version of slavery from approximately 1502 to 1824, there was never a fully viable cash crop plantation system – that is, outside of the small spike in cacao production between 1690-1740, which saw the largest influx of slaves in Costa Rica. For the most part, African slaves were focused on domestic labor, many of them working alongside Spanish colonialists. This form of slavery was very different from other New World slave societies.
African slaves in Costa Rica worked in three areas: some on the cattle ranches of Nicoya, some on the cacao plantations of Matina, and most in domestic servitude in colonial Cartago. Since colonial Costa Rica did not directly import Africans from West Africa, most of the slaves were brought into the country via Panama – Portobello was a major slave auction site – and along the coasts through smuggling and small purchases. Most enslaved Africans entered Costa Rica in small numbers and were quickly absorbed into the primary labor force.
With such minimal and inconsistent numbers, most Africans in Costa Rica were already “American” by the 16th century through one generation of mixing with indigenous and Spanish populations. Economically, most Spaniards could not afford to sustain slaves as they struggled to maintain their own livelihoods. As a result, many Africans were freed, purchased their own freedom, or lived fairly autonomously in the outlying cacao plantations with owners who showed up once a year.
By 1709, money was so scare that colonists used the cacao bean as currency (check out the Museo de Oro Precolombino in the Plaza de la Cultura in downtown San José for a history of Costa Rican currency, including cacao beans). Cacao held its weight as the currency for the purchase of slaves. For example, in 1761, the 8-year-old child of the slave Juana Josefa, owned by Feliciana Calvo, was sold to a Cartago priest for 150 pesos in cacao. Slaves who had access to cacao had unique bargaining power, and by the 18th century there was a large population of free Blacks, many of them lived in the designated “township” of Puebla de Los Pardos (pardo meaning “free black”) right outside of Cartago.
It is a researcher’s dream to come across the actual voices of enslaved people in historical archives; usually slaves are lumped into statistics without names, and their narratives are told from the perspective of the founding fathers. As I was combing through records on this time period at the Costa Rican National Archives, I kept seeing names and testimonies from enslaved Africans, but I could not figure out why. Finally, I stumbled across Voyage 35157 of the Christianus Quintus and Voyage 35158 of the Fredericus Quartus, two Dutch slave ships that reportedly crashed along Costa Rica’s Caribbean coastline near Cahuita in March 1710.
According to maritime records, the Christianus had begun its purchase of Africans along the West African coast in April 1709, stopping at the Dutch slave ports Christiansborg, Whydah, Gold Coast and Bight of Benin. It eventually left Africa on September 28, 1709 with a total of 373 Africans, 318 of whom would eventually survive the Middle Passage, as the transatlantic slave voyage across the Atlantic to the Caribbean and Latin America was known. The Dutch captains were Hans Hansen Maas and Andres Waeroe.
The other ship, the Fredericus, had sailed from Copenhagen to West Africa, purchasing Africans on the Ivory and Gold Coasts as well as Benin, Christiansborg and Keta. It left the West African coast on October 2, 1709 after it successfully put down a slave revolt on the ship on September 15, 1709.
Both Dutch ships were originally bound for the Island of St. Thomas. However, according to African testimony, a massive storm caused both ships to veer off course and crash near Cahuita on March 2, 1710. What is most amazing about this story is that there were approximately 690 Africans who survived along with the Dutch crew. The stories are corroborated because the Dutch sailors managed to get on a ship heading to Portobello, Panama and were able to return home and narrate their stories to the law courts in order to gain the necessary insurance payment from investors for lost human cargo. However, they left the Africans behind on Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast. These were predominately from the Western Yoruba subgroup of Nago. In the slave trading world, the language designating those of Yoruba origin also used Casta Lucumi, Mina, Arara, Ana and Nangu – words found in the archives.
According to the records from the seat of the Catholic Church, which was in Guatemala, about 100 of the Africans abandoned onshore by the Dutch captains were captured and hidden by several Spaniards and taken to work on their cacao plantations, away from the eyes of those who may have taxed them for owning slaves. In the Catholic Church’s records, there are several testimonies by those captured Africans who were interviewed by a slave named Francisco (Casta Arara) who served as an interpreter. They recounted the story of a great storm that shipwrecked their boats and the experience of being captured by the Spaniards who enslaved them.
The other 540 Africans simply “disappeared” into the bush, and we can assume that they created the foundation of some of the earliest AfroCosta Ricans on the Caribbean coast.
It is a gift to be able to call the names of Africans who lived and labored in Costa Rica during the 18th century. Calling their names – sadly, their Spanish colonial names, not their true names lovingly uttered by their mothers in Africa – means they existed. Their lives mattered. They added to the development of Costa Rica.
And I call: Maria and Petrona(Casta Nangu). Juan (caught by slavers Gasper de Acosta Arevalo and Juan Bautista de Retana). Augustina (Yoruba Casta Ana, also captured by Retana). Nicolas, Miguel, Felipe Cubero (from Congo). Antonia Cinitola (from Congo). Micaela (Yoruba Casta Ana). Miguel Largo (Casta Mina from the upper West African slave coast). They, among others, survived the slave pens of West Africa and the horrific crossing of the Atlantic. They labored, loved, and died in Costa Rica – some gaining freedom, like Augustina, who was the first enslaved woman to appear in the Church register because she married Antonio García on May 3, 1733. They were both slaves of don Juan Francisco de Ibarra.
I can only imagine the lives of those Africans who had to begin again in the Americas, washed ashore and quickly captured, yet these stories are more commonplace in the narratives of the Transatlantic slave trade. I am most interested in those Africans who got away, escaping into the Caribbean landscape and finding their own path. How does Costa Rica claim them in their national lineage?
Read more of Natasha Gordon-Chipembere’s columns here.
Natasha Gordon-Chipembere, a writer, professor and founder of the Tengo Sed Writers Retreats, moved to Heredia, Costa Rica with her family from New York in June 2014. She is now accepting applications for Tengo Sed IV Writers and Yoga Retreat in Jan 2017. She may be reached at indisunflower@gmail.com. Her column “Musings from an Afro-Costa Rican” is published monthly.
A rare find: African voices in the Costa Rican National Archives -
A rare find: African voices in the Costa Rican National Archives
NATASHA GORDON-CHIPEMBERE | 2 DAYS AGO
Cacao beans were the results of many slaves’ labor, and sometimes the currency that obtained their freedom. Isai Symens via Wikimedia Commons
Though Costa Rica had its own version of slavery from approximately 1502 to 1824, there was never a fully viable cash crop plantation system – that is, outside of the small spike in cacao production between 1690-1740, which saw the largest influx of slaves in Costa Rica. For the most part, African slaves were focused on domestic labor, many of them working alongside Spanish colonialists. This form of slavery was very different from other New World slave societies.
African slaves in Costa Rica worked in three areas: some on the cattle ranches of Nicoya, some on the cacao plantations of Matina, and most in domestic servitude in colonial Cartago. Since colonial Costa Rica did not directly import Africans from West Africa, most of the slaves were brought into the country via Panama – Portobello was a major slave auction site – and along the coasts through smuggling and small purchases. Most enslaved Africans entered Costa Rica in small numbers and were quickly absorbed into the primary labor force.
With such minimal and inconsistent numbers, most Africans in Costa Rica were already “American” by the 16th century through one generation of mixing with indigenous and Spanish populations. Economically, most Spaniards could not afford to sustain slaves as they struggled to maintain their own livelihoods. As a result, many Africans were freed, purchased their own freedom, or lived fairly autonomously in the outlying cacao plantations with owners who showed up once a year.
By 1709, money was so scare that colonists used the cacao bean as currency (check out the Museo de Oro Precolombino in the Plaza de la Cultura in downtown San José for a history of Costa Rican currency, including cacao beans). Cacao held its weight as the currency for the purchase of slaves. For example, in 1761, the 8-year-old child of the slave Juana Josefa, owned by Feliciana Calvo, was sold to a Cartago priest for 150 pesos in cacao. Slaves who had access to cacao had unique bargaining power, and by the 18th century there was a large population of free Blacks, many of them lived in the designated “township” of Puebla de Los Pardos (pardo meaning “free black”) right outside of Cartago.
It is a researcher’s dream to come across the actual voices of enslaved people in historical archives; usually slaves are lumped into statistics without names, and their narratives are told from the perspective of the founding fathers. As I was combing through records on this time period at the Costa Rican National Archives, I kept seeing names and testimonies from enslaved Africans, but I could not figure out why. Finally, I stumbled across Voyage 35157 of the Christianus Quintus and Voyage 35158 of the Fredericus Quartus, two Dutch slave ships that reportedly crashed along Costa Rica’s Caribbean coastline near Cahuita in March 1710.
According to maritime records, the Christianus had begun its purchase of Africans along the West African coast in April 1709, stopping at the Dutch slave ports Christiansborg, Whydah, Gold Coast and Bight of Benin. It eventually left Africa on September 28, 1709 with a total of 373 Africans, 318 of whom would eventually survive the Middle Passage, as the transatlantic slave voyage across the Atlantic to the Caribbean and Latin America was known. The Dutch captains were Hans Hansen Maas and Andres Waeroe.
The other ship, the Fredericus, had sailed from Copenhagen to West Africa, purchasing Africans on the Ivory and Gold Coasts as well as Benin, Christiansborg and Keta. It left the West African coast on October 2, 1709 after it successfully put down a slave revolt on the ship on September 15, 1709.
Both Dutch ships were originally bound for the Island of St. Thomas. However, according to African testimony, a massive storm caused both ships to veer off course and crash near Cahuita on March 2, 1710. What is most amazing about this story is that there were approximately 690 Africans who survived along with the Dutch crew. The stories are corroborated because the Dutch sailors managed to get on a ship heading to Portobello, Panama and were able to return home and narrate their stories to the law courts in order to gain the necessary insurance payment from investors for lost human cargo. However, they left the Africans behind on Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast. These were predominately from the Western Yoruba subgroup of Nago. In the slave trading world, the language designating those of Yoruba origin also used Casta Lucumi, Mina, Arara, Ana and Nangu – words found in the archives.
According to the records from the seat of the Catholic Church, which was in Guatemala, about 100 of the Africans abandoned onshore by the Dutch captains were captured and hidden by several Spaniards and taken to work on their cacao plantations, away from the eyes of those who may have taxed them for owning slaves. In the Catholic Church’s records, there are several testimonies by those captured Africans who were interviewed by a slave named Francisco (Casta Arara) who served as an interpreter. They recounted the story of a great storm that shipwrecked their boats and the experience of being captured by the Spaniards who enslaved them.
The other 540 Africans simply “disappeared” into the bush, and we can assume that they created the foundation of some of the earliest AfroCosta Ricans on the Caribbean coast.
It is a gift to be able to call the names of Africans who lived and labored in Costa Rica during the 18th century. Calling their names – sadly, their Spanish colonial names, not their true names lovingly uttered by their mothers in Africa – means they existed. Their lives mattered. They added to the development of Costa Rica.
And I call: Maria and Petrona(Casta Nangu). Juan (caught by slavers Gasper de Acosta Arevalo and Juan Bautista de Retana). Augustina (Yoruba Casta Ana, also captured by Retana). Nicolas, Miguel, Felipe Cubero (from Congo). Antonia Cinitola (from Congo). Micaela (Yoruba Casta Ana). Miguel Largo (Casta Mina from the upper West African slave coast). They, among others, survived the slave pens of West Africa and the horrific crossing of the Atlantic. They labored, loved, and died in Costa Rica – some gaining freedom, like Augustina, who was the first enslaved woman to appear in the Church register because she married Antonio García on May 3, 1733. They were both slaves of don Juan Francisco de Ibarra.
I can only imagine the lives of those Africans who had to begin again in the Americas, washed ashore and quickly captured, yet these stories are more commonplace in the narratives of the Transatlantic slave trade. I am most interested in those Africans who got away, escaping into the Caribbean landscape and finding their own path. How does Costa Rica claim them in their national lineage?
Read more of Natasha Gordon-Chipembere’s columns here.
Natasha Gordon-Chipembere, a writer, professor and founder of the Tengo Sed Writers Retreats, moved to Heredia, Costa Rica with her family from New York in June 2014. She is now accepting applications for Tengo Sed IV Writers and Yoga Retreat in Jan 2017. She may be reached at indisunflower@gmail.com. Her column “Musings from an Afro-Costa Rican” is published monthly.
A rare find: African voices in the Costa Rican National Archives -