Archive for the violence against women Category

12 de Abril: Arruinar tu vida

Posted in Bolivia, violence against women with tags , , , , on April 12, 2012 by eugeniadealtura

Last Monday, after his 16-year-old girlfriend told him she thought she was pregnant, 18-year-old Rubén T. R. strangled Ruth A. T. and buried her–still alive–in an empty lot in El Alto.  Asked why he committed the crime, T. R. stated, “I didn’t want to ruin my life.”

Even if this explanation weren’t horribly selfish and heartless–ie., he didn’t want to ruin his own life, so he took hers–it would still be senseless.  If Ruth had continued her pregnancy and had a child (since evidently, T.R. wanted her to abort), how could this event possibly ruin his life more than murdering the young woman and facing all of the consequences of that crime?

Toward the end of the article, we begin to see why: Justice in Bolivia for men who commit feminicide or femicide (a term women’s rights activists in the region are utilizing to describe the targeted killing of women) is far from just.  Many of these men claim “crime of passion” defenses, seizing on sexist norms that excuse male violence against women when these women do not act as they “should”–ie., when they get pregnant (or fail to get pregnant); when they have sex with other men (or when there is a rumor that they have done so); when they talk back, etc., etc.

La Razón’s article suggests that T. R. is planning a similar defense.  First, to establish an idea that he was just “out of his mind” when he committed the crime–despite evidence gathered by police that he planned it days in advance–T. R. stated, “I really regret doing it, I don’t know what was going on with me at that moment.”  At the end of the article, a government official is quoted attempting to “explain the causes” of the murder.  Citing scientific knowledge–which we all know, is fool-proof and “objective,” Marcelo Claros remarked, “Psychology reveals that an excessively euphoric behavior, far from the rational, can cause one to make decisions of this type (of one young person killing another).”  Another cause cited at the bottom of the article is the consumption of alcohol and drugs–despite the fact that T. R. seems to have been stone cold sober when he murdered his girlfriend.

If psychology reveals that “excessively euphoric behavior” can cause one young person to murder another, why does it seem that in Bolivia, it is always young men murdering young women, and not the reverse?  Sexism kills.  At least it killed Ruth.

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21 de Noviembre: Y la violencia sigue…

Posted in Bolivia, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , on November 21, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

For readers of Spanish, this article from La Paz’s La Razón newspaper explores the devastatingly common phenomenon of violence against women in the cities of La Paz and El Alto.

27 de Junio: No tiene que ver con la suerte

Posted in Bolivia, cholita, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

Today, two vastly different Bolivian tales that display one reality while concealing another.  First, this morning in the city of La Paz, judges chose this year’s cholita paceña from 16 contestants.  For those not familiar with cholitas, this term designates women, ostensibly of indigenous descent, who wear a typical form of dress consisting of a brightly colored skirt over several layered petticoats, a blouse, a blanket/shawl, and a hat (in La Paz, this is often a bowler hat).  Cholitas typically wear their hair in two long braids connected by woolen hairpiece that keeps the ends of the two braids together. Cholitas are designated women “of skirt,” or de pollera, while other women who wear dresses or pants are called “of dress,” or de vestido.  While indigenous, mestiza, and white women may wear dresses or pants, usually only indigenous women are de pollera.

The yearly contest to choose the cholita paceña (“paceña” simply means that the chosen cholita is from the city of La Paz) is an event designed to pay “homage to the identity of the woman who is de pollera” (all translations mine).  Because wearing the skirt is a designation of indigenous identity, women who are de pollera have suffered discrimination for centuries, and at one point were even refused entry to the city’s central square.  Since the ascendance of indigenous president Evo Morales in 2006, there has been some revalorization of indigenous women’s identity, but many still suffer discrimination.  That is why that this contest is potentially so meaningful.

However, I have a doubt, that hopefully some of my readers will be able to answer: do these women actually dress in the pollera in their daily lives? I ask this not because I am cynical (or, not only because I am so), but because so many other forms of “paying homage to women who are de pollera” have revealed themselves to have little to do with actual skirted women.  For example, take the “cholita wrestling” match.  (If you have never heard of this, just google it–the videos will astound you.)  According to one “cholita” wrestler I met a few months ago, none of the powerful women who wrestle in the traditional outfit of skirt, shawl, and hat dress like cholitas in their daily lives.

On the other hand, maybe this is a legitimate contest only for cholita women. Like many other pseudo-beauty contests for “deviant” or “minority” groups, the competition for the cholita paceña judges not beauty–which perhaps would be too difficult to identify in non-white women [read: sarcastic]–but “spontaneity, that the cholitas are authentic, that they have charisma, and that they know how to speak a native language.”  (For those who might assume that the language requirement would guarantee a woman’s cholita status, think again–most of the country’s population can speak at least one native language in addition to Spanish.)  After all that, what do I wish?  That these women actually are women de pollera, and that they actually are judged for their beauty–why not?  Everyone else is.  (Readers, please post a comment if you know if the women contestants are usually de pollera.)

In far more sinister news, yesterday the La Paz daily La Razón reported on the Friday burial of a 20-year-old woman who was raped and murdered a week ago after leaving a dance club.  (I am painfully aware that this blog has become a sort of observatory for violent crime against women in Bolivia, but forever hopeful that this process of bearing witness will teach us something. And if after hearing the details of this case of violence against María Micaela Vargas Vargas  you feel you have not learned something about Bolivia, then you simply are not listening.)

On June 18, Vargas went out dancing with some friends at a club near the city’s cemetery, a busy market area of La Paz that is not particularly safe at night.  Doubtless aware of this fact, Vargas hopped in a taxi after leaving the club, likely thinking that this would be the safest way to get home.  What happened next?  “According to police reports, the taxi driver was attempting to rape [the woman] when two young men appeared and saved her; however, they took her over by the flower market, across the street from the General Cemetery, [where they] raped and strangled her.” Even more ironic, Vargas was raped in a temporary building erected by police for security purposes.

Take a moment to consider what this means.  That, of two cases of the coincidental crossing of paths–a taxi driver, and the young men who “saved” Vargas–both were disastrous.  That, if you meet–by chance–three men in Bolivia, all of them are likely to rape you.  What does this mean?  This means that this–the “coincidences,” the predatory men–has nothing at all to do with chance. It means that, chances are your average guy in Bolivia is as likely to rape and to kill you, as he is to save you.

22 de Mayo: Ni amante, ni amigo

Posted in Bolivia, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , , on May 22, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

In general, I make an effort to highlight new issues in the blog, and not write in detail about themes I have covered previously.  That is, until reality forces me to. Last Saturday night, a young Bolivian man named Víctor Avendaño killed his “friend” Betty Condori by hitting her over the head with a bottle.  Once she was dead, Avendaño carried Condori’s body around the city–first to pick up some plastic bags at a garbage heap, and then to leave some items of the woman’s clothing at his parents’ home, where he lived–before dousing the body with kerosene and setting it on fire on a La Paz city street.  During his confession to police, Avendaño said in his own defense, “‘My only crime was to love a woman that did not pay attention to me.'”  (As always, all translations are my own.)

But clearly, Avendaño is mistaken.  Even before he murdered this young woman and then burnt her body on a street corner, Avendaño had committed other crimes.  First, he recorded and downloaded Condori’s private cell phone conversations with a young man in another city. Sometime in the last few weeks, Avendaño reports that he begged Condori to at least be his friend—a proposal that the young woman allegedly accepted.  Then, last Saturday night, Avendaño bludgeoned his “friend” over the head with a bottle.  Adding insult and disrespect to death, the murderer then stole some of Condori’s clothing—the article does not tell us which garments he took, but we can imagine—and then desecrated her body by setting it on fire.

Although feminicides such as this one occur frequently in Bolivia, my first reaction is always, “how is this possible?”  And by this, I do not simply mean the murder.  I mean, how can it be that so many men in Bolivia believe that any of these actions against women—harassment, spying, murder—are acceptable?  How can so many men have it in them to commit these crimes, and to hold the ideas about women that they must have to in order to make these crimes possible?

Last Thursday night, after a few beers at a pub across town, my friend “Alicia” and I decided to enjoy the crisp night air of La Paz and walk the 20 minutes to our homes.  The constant, and often violently themed, catcalls that we received on our walk, plus this article on yet another murder of a young woman in La Paz, sparked much reflection.

As I have mentioned before, I do not believe that Bolivian men’s frequent alcohol abuse is a cause for high rates of sexual and physical violence in the country.  However, what alcohol does do, is lower inhibitions.  That’s why people all over the world go out to bars, grab a few drinks, and end up hooking up with someone at the next table—it’s a natural part of life that often facilitates lasting romance.  But when drunk men on a La Paz street comment on women’s bodies as if they are something to be consumed, and even reach out a hand to see what they can grab on a passer-by, that is not the alcohol.  When drunk men go home and beat their wives and children, that is not the alcohol. That is the man.

I do not mean to imply that every drunk man in La Paz that catcalls women on the street could end up committing rape or murder.  What I do mean to say is this: if he’s doing it drunk, he could do it sober.  If—drunk or sober—your partner, or any man you know, is taping your cell phone conversations, threatening you, or showing way too much interest in your relationships with other men, then this man is not your friend. He’s not your friend, and he does not deserve to be your lover.  And he might just try to kill you.

Si usted cree que podría estar en riesgo de violencia de su pareja o de cualquier otra persona, comuníquese con CIDEM al 249-0358 (La Paz), o al 281-0041 (El Alto).  If you believe that you might be at risk of violence by your partner or by any other person, call CIDEM in La Paz or El Alto at the above telephone numbers.

10 de Abril: Pedacitos

Posted in Bolivia, sexuality, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , on April 10, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

This week, some odds and ends from the Bolivian highlands that I hope will spark conversation and debate.

First, yet another Bolivian woman has been killed in Spain. The 34-year-old migrant, known only by the initials M.S.P., was discovered last week in a Marbella hotel room; she had been suffocated to death.  This week, Spanish police found the likely culprit–her one-time boyfriend, a 39-year-old Peruvian man.  As if to chide the dead woman, this article from Madrid’s El País newspaper notes that M.S.P. “had never reported any mistreatment [that she had received], nor solicited assistance from the Municipality of Málaga nor the Andaluz Institute of Women” (all translations mine).

“Cycle of violence” graphic at a local organization working to combat violence against women.

Several weeks ago, in the aftermath of the murder of another Bolivian woman in Spain, I wrote a post on the problem of domestic violence against migrant women and the particular vulnerabilities these women face because of their status as (often illegal) migrants.  Even women living in their countries of birth hesitate to denounce acts of violence.  Sometimes this is due to their (and their children’s) financial dependence upon the perpetrators, or because police do not take the accusations seriously, or for a number of other reasons.  Add to these the social isolation that many migrants suffer and the fear of deportation, and migrant women are even less likely to report (or to be able to report) acts of violence.

Accusations of sexual violence are even more fraught, as women’s behavior and dress are often scrutinized by authorities as supposed “causes” of or “justifications” for male attacks.  In a recent interview, several Bolivian police officials blamed adolescent girls’ drinking for rising rape rates in La Paz’s Max Paredes neighborhood.  This logic ignores the problem of male perpetrators’ sense of entitlement to women’s bodies, drunk or sober.  Even in countries where activists have made significant gains in raising awareness about rape, such as the U.S., many women’s accusations go unheard.  For example, see this case of a Washington, D.C. woman who was refused a rape kit–valuable forensic evidence that could have put her attacker behind bars (thanks to Feministe for reporting on this story).

An educational comic instructing women on how to report acts of violence to authorities.

In lighter–but still somewhat disturbing–news, RadioFMBolivia.Net published an article this week instructing (implicitly only) men to “caress women’s breasts to satisfy your partner more.” Accompanied by a picture of a large-breasted white woman in a seductive pose, the article, written in a woman’s voice, begins as sex advice and ends as soft porn, as the author finally succumbs to memories of an ex-boyfriend’s expert fingers.

Don’t get me wrong–I am all for frank discussions of sexuality in print, on the radio, on T.V., in the classroom, and anywhere and everywhere else.  However, as I have mentioned before, sex is already surrounded by so many unrealistic and negative messages (ie., that most women can achieve orgasm by vaginal penetration alone; that touching yourself during sex means that your partner is inadequate, etc.), that not just any type of press coverage will do.

This article, for example, gives explicit advice to men on what to do and what not to do in playing with a woman’s breasts: “It is not just about putting your hands on the breasts and moving them quickly and clumsily…  Handling a woman’s breasts requires a certain art, it demands patience.”  But whose breasts are we talking about, here?  Any woman’s?  Every woman’s?  “Sex advice” like that provided by this article actually discourages the one thing required for “good” sex–open and honest communication.  Some women may want their partners to handle their breasts “quickly and clumsily.”  Others may prefer a more delicate touch.  Still others may get no sexual stimulation from having their breasts touched.  But this isn’t something that men (or women who sleep with women) can find out from reading this article.  If you want to know how to turn your partner on, you have to talk to her.

Articles like this one reinforce the idea that sex is something that you are either “good at” or you are not; that there are a set of objective skills that you can pick up and that will work just as well on one partner as on another, and that if you have to ask your partner what she wants, you are somehow inadequate.  I’m not saying this article is totally useless–the soft porn aspect may turn your crank.  But let’s keep porn, porn, and toss out the “one-size-fits-all” sex advice.

Finally, this week Bolivians voted in local (departmental and municipal) elections.  The Andean Information Network has done a superb job summing up the results, so I will not attempt to replicate that here.

As always, I welcome your comments and questions.

27 de Febrero: La violencia también migra

Posted in Bolivia, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

Last Thursday, a 26-year-old Bolivian woman was murdered by her husband in the town of Almería, Spain, where they both lived with the attacker’s sister.  Evidently, the 31-year-old Bolivian man was moved by jealousy to stab his wife in the neck and to beat her on the face and head.  The aggressor’s sister ran out of the house to call the police, but by the time they arrived, the woman–who is being called M.R.E.–was already dead.  M.R.E. is survived by her two children in Spain, and various family members in Bolivia, who have recently succeeded in repatriating her remains to the city of Santa Cruz.  Although the Bolivian press has not been quick to identify this murder as feminicide or even as gender-based violence, some Spanish papers and organizations fortunately have.  (Click here for an example of an article from the Bolivian press; here for a Spanish-language article from a Spanish women’s rights organization, and here for an English-language article from a web-based directory on Spain.)

Photo of Almería, Spain, courtesy of Gernot Keller via Wikimedia Commons.

According to the Bolivia Information Forum, there may be as many as 300,000 Bolivians living in Spain, including those that are unregistered.  These Bolivians, although doubtless poorer than Spanish natives, are most certainly wealthier than the majority back home.  The fact that violence against Bolivian women–something that 9 of 10 women face in Bolivia–continues in Spain, is a powerful reminder that domestic and sexual violence are not simply problems of the lower classes, but occur across socioeconomic spectrums–including among migrants.

Migrants are in many ways a vulnerable population, particularly when it comes to engaging with law enforcement.  It is not surprising that migrant women who suffer violence abroad often choose not to report these events, since calling the attention of police could jeopardize their statuses in the host country, especially if they are “illegal” migrants.  (In addition, the police often do not take domestic violence calls seriously, or are ineffective at dealing with them.) Although scores of organizations in Western Europe and the United States (and elsewhere) work to inform migrants of their rights, many still fear exercising those rights due to the precariousness of their legal situations.  In addition to the fear of law enforcement, women migrants are made more vulnerable by their frequent isolation from the social and family networks that, in their home countries, might help them escape situations of violence.

For readers of Spanish, an interesting article emerged this week in the Spanish press that takes a rather poetic approach to this issue.  (All translations are my own.)  The author, Nieves Fernández, highlights the anonymity and isolation that many women feel when they suffer violence.  Fernández titles her article “Eme,” for the initial “M.” that is being used to identify this young Bolivian woman who was recently murdered–as if to say that even in death, this woman remains unknown.  One of the terrifying aspects about the anonymity and isolation that domestic violence produces is the sense that it can happen at any time, anywhere, and to anyone–as Fernández is quick to point out.  “M. lived in the center of the country,” she writes, “but this could have occurred in the north or the south, in the east or in the west and still she might not have reported [the crime]…”  Writes Fernández, “She was young, but she could’ve been much older than her 25 years…, she could’ve been thirty or forty…since age is not a factor in love nor in the antilove [that is expressed with] knives.”

And finally, “Her name was M….M, for mujer…”  Here’s to hoping–and to fighting to make sure–that you, or I, or any other woman, does not become another “M.”

13 de Febrero: Mejor no hablemos de excusas

Posted in Bolivia, Press, sexual violence, violence against women with tags , , , , , , , , on February 13, 2010 by eugeniadealtura

Back in November 2009, my first-ever post to this blog reflected on the problem of violence against women in Bolivia.  For the past few years, feminist activists in Bolivia have been pressuring lawmakers to incorporate the term feminicidio into legal codes, to prevent men who kill their wives, girlfriends, exes, sisters, cousins, etc., from getting off with “crime of passion” defenses.  A crime of passion defense usually reads like this: “Your honor, I was just so angry and heartbroken when I heard that Fulana was [insert actual or suspected infidelity here], that I just couldn’t control myself, and I [insert violent crime here].”  At last year’s march commemorating the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, one of the slogans we shouted until hoarse was, “No es crimen pasional–es asesinato.” (It’s not a crime of passion–it’s murder.)

For those of us who believe that men and women are indeed equal and that both have the unalienable right to live without violence, these crime of passion defenses seem laughable–or they would, if they weren’t so dangerous.  Then, why do they work?  Who or what contributes to the legitimacy of this type of defense in Bolivian society?

One culprit is undoubtedly machismo and the double standards that it engenders–ie., he cheats with impunity, but she can’t even have male friends; he has a job and a social life, while she is confined to the home and to the production of offspring.  As I’ve mentioned several times before, machismo in Bolivia is fierce, and seemingly endemic to both home and professional life in the country.

So, in part, we have everyday interactions between Bolivian men and women to thank for crime of passion defenses.  But perhaps more perilously, we also have the press.  This week, the La-Paz daily La Razón covered the story of one man’s brutal murder of a sex worker in an El Alto motel room. (As always, all translations are my own.)  Evidently, when the young woman Zulma Apaza refused to have sex with her would-be client, he strangled her and used a broken bottle to cut her vagina.  In a statement to police, the murderer Óscar Condori Vargas said, “The señorita turned up dead, I got up and I don’t know, I don’t know anything, I didn’t see anything; I don’t know in what moment they did [killed] her; I had fallen asleep, I was drunk.”

My first reaction after reading Condori’s statement was to ask, “Well, which was it??” But no–it’s better to not talk about excuses.  Because the fact is, there is no excuse for murder. That is why we call a person’s “reason” for committing murder a motive, not an excuse that absolves the murderer of responsibility for the crime. And yet, this article traffics in excuses, rather than motives, offering them up like sacrifices.  In the Condori case, the reporter informs us that the excuse was the sex worker’s refusal to seal the deal.  (Violence against sex workers is a pervasive and troubling phenomenon that I cannot cover in detail in this post, but see here for recent treatment of this problem in the U.S.)

In its closing paragraphs, the La Razón article reviews other crimes that were recently perpetrated in El Alto motels, offering an excuse for each.  Last Christmas Eve, one man decapitated his girlfriend with a kitchen knife before attempting to escape, carrying her head with him inside a cardboard box.  “The motives of the crime were passionate, according to the [local police],” assures the reporter.  “In two other cases [of murder in El Alto motel rooms],” the article continues, “the victim unleashed her lover’s jealousy by calling him by the wrong name.”  Are these “motives”?  Explanations that we can add to a case file before locking the bastards away for 25-years-to-life?  No–these are excuses. In this article, La Razón is, perhaps unwittingly, justifying the crime of passion defense and ultimately excusing the absence of just prison sentences for male perpetrators of feminicide in Bolivia.  So please–no more “passionate” excuses.  Just give us cold hard motive, evidence, trial, and finally–justice.