Month: May 2020

Atures and Maypures on The Orinoco, and Humboldt’s Parrot

Richard Barnes

A good number of posts on this blog either direct themselves to or reference the grand Orinoco River, which exercises a majestic “pull” on all in Venezuela, whether locals or foreign residents or long term visitors. It is more of a presence in Venezuela than the Mississippi is to the United States. I suspect the Nile exerts a similar pull in North Africa, especially Egypt, but, having never lived there, I don’t know for sure. But the literature does affirm its centrality to life in that world for many centuries. I’d say the same applies to the Orinoco and Venezuela.

Those readers who have a sense of adventure, or have children who do, cannot do much better than to explore that river, especially the Upper Orinoco. Alexander Humboldt is still a pretty reliable as well as fascinating source of information and background for this.

Shortly after arriving in Cumaná, Venezuela, the “oldest continuously inhabited European established settlement in South America,” Alexander von Humboldt wrote to his brother back in Germany, “What color of birds, fish, even crabs (sky blue and yellow!). So far we have wandered like fools; in the first three days we couldn’t identify anything, because one object is tossed aside to pursue another. Bonpland [renowned French naturalist, Aimé Bonpland, friend and collaborator with Humboldt] assures me he will go mad if the marvels do not stop. Still, more beautiful even than these individual miracles is the overall impression made by this powerful, lush, and yet so gentle, exhilarating, mild vegetation.”

As he made his way to the Casiquiare, that natural channel which connects the Orinoco with the Amazon, via the Rio Negro (see “Orinoco, Casiquiare, Humboldt, and Monster Aguirre” for more Here), Humboldt and his party, including untiring and powerful Indians who at times jumped into the water to pull the canoe from the unforgiving currents, eventually came to the rapids between Atures and Maypures. 

Here is a description of this section of the Orinoco, in Humboldt’s own words: “Nothing can be grander than the aspect of this spot. Neither the fall of the Tequendama, near Santa Fe de Bogota, nor the magnificent scenes of the Cordilleras, could weaken the impression produced upon my mind by the first view of the rapids of Atures and of Maypures. When the spectator is so stationed that the eye can at once take in the long succession of cataracts, the immense sheet of foam and vapors illumined by the rays of the setting sun, the whole river seems as it were suspended over its bed.”

That’s quite a compliment, considering it was written by one of history’s most accomplished travelers and explorers.

Atures and Maypures are names missionaries took from nearby tribes. Some years before Humboldt’s voyage, the Maypures had been exterminated by the violent Caribs (see more on the Caribs here and Here) and, according to legend, had taken their domesticated parrots as spoils. Humboldt had come across some Caribs one of whom gave him his parrot as a gift.

The explorer noticed that the words spoken by the parrot did not correspond with the Carib dialect and he asked his host why. The Indian told him that the words he heard were not Carib, but Maypure, the now extinct tribe. So Humboldt was hearing language from a tribe that no longer could speak.

That’s a fascinating tale, although I’ve not been able to confirm it in Humboldt’s massive, multi-volume Narrative. 

A few more observations by the great explorer about this area of the Orinoco:

“We passed two hours on a large rock, standing in the middle of the Orinoco, and called the Piedra de la Paciencia, or the Stone of Patience, because the canoes, in going up, are sometimes detained there two days, to extricate themselves from the whirlpool caused by this rock.”

And, finally,

“The Indians would not hazard passing the cataract; and we slept on a very incommodious spot, on the shelf of a rock, with a slope of more than eighteen degrees, and of which the crevices sheltered a swarm of bats. We heard the cries of the jaguar very near us during the whole night. They were answered by our great dog in lengthened howlings. I waited the appearance of the stars in vain: the sky was exceedingly black; and the hoarse sounds of the cascades of the Orinoco mingled with the rolling of the distant thunder.”

We will continue to visit with Mr. Humboldt. 

Alexander von Humboldt’s map of a section of the Upper Orinoco River.
Alexander von Humboldt camped on the shores of the Orinoco River.
Between Atures and Maypures rapids. Note one of the granite stones which so impressed Humboldt.
Orinoco rapids between Atures and Maypures. These delayed, fascinated, and at times frightened Humboldt’s party as they made their way on the Orinoco towards the Casiquiare.
Parrot from Atures area.

Illusions and Picaresque (Conclusion)

Richard Barnes

“Picaresque derives from Spanish picaresco … relating to picaro … which also derives from Spanish, [and] means ‘rogue’ or ‘bohemian.’ [or ‘adventurer’] … Typically, the picaresque novel centers around a wandering individual of low standing who happens into a series of adventures among people of various higher clases, often relying on his wits and a little dishonesty to get by….” Merriam-Webster

The first known use of the term was in the Spanish novel, Lazarillo de Tormes, relating the tale of a poor orphan apprenticed to a blind, wily beggar who teaches him to live by his wits, with the ultimate aim of purchasing his dead father’s shop. Published in 1554, the novel antedates by generations and centuries novels such as Moll Flanders, Oliver Twist, or Huckleberry Finn, which also depicted less than savory characters. Perhaps the best known “picaresque” novel was the French Gil Blas (1615), similarly depicting a street-wise personage who in the end “goes straight” and retires in honorable comfort.

In a nutshell, the Spanish form of the picaresque or picaro (pronounced peekuhroh in Spanish) represents a man or woman who desires to live right but is pushed by circumstances to cheat, all the while desiring to return to an honorable life before death.

I seriously doubt the McKinsie consultants who analyzed the disappointing measurable economic growth in Latin America (see last week’s blog post [Last Week’s Post]) were required to read Lazarillo de Tormes or Gil Blas, but they should have been. That might have given them an insight that, in my opinion, was lacking in their final report. 

In her zeal to ensure the American indigenous peoples were properly “cared for”, the crown imposed impossibly suffocating regulations and requirements on the colonists. For example, the land they stewarded was not considered legally theirs and could not be bequeathed to their inheritors (see the series on ranchitos beginning here). In this case, the colonists and their descendants (known as Criollos) either ignored the regulations or pretended to submit to them while cleverly circumventing the strict application of Spanish laws so as to eventually be de facto owners of their lands.

Before the reader judges them too harshly, please remember that our American Pilgrims also decided to ditch the socialistic requirements imposed on them by their financial backers in London. They abandoned the communal approach and adopted the private property approach and thereby were able to pay their financial backers despite having gone against the arrangement those backers had required and imposed. The Spanish colonists and Criollos could not do the same with the Spanish crown. Instead, they resorted to the picaresque.

The infuriating reality is that some colonists or criollos treated the indigenous peoples very well, including actually granting lands to the more industrious and worthy, whereas others treated them terribly. The point is that this was the case even with the Crown’s exasperating regulations and laws. How much better would it have been had the crown recognized the need to reward her subjects with lands from the very beginning along with injunctions to treat the “natives” with respect and love.

We’ll never know, but we can surmise.

And so the picaresque is intimately associated with the Spanish, especially the Spanish descendants in Latin America, even though it is a term that is applicable to peoples from all areas of the world. Mark Twain, call your office!

And that is what I found a bit annoying with the McKinsey report on Latin America. In effect it called for more regulations in order to induce those living by their wits (street vendors and others in the “informal economy”) to come out and join the legitimate economy and to be measured by conventional means.

And go hungry.

This was not in the report, but that would be the effect. At least at this time.

At the moment, many entrepreneurial street vendors and others in the underground economy in Latin America earn and save enough to send their children to college or to place them in more advantageous circumstances thereby improving the lot of their homes. 

The street vendor economy may not be able to be measured at the present. However, given time, their descendants will be outstanding members of the “measured economy” and that will improve the measured results overall for all of Latin America.

McKinsey’s report goes on to recommend other steps such as “family planning” and “property value capture” (meaning higher property taxes). These go beyond the scope of this post but we hope to revisit in the future. For now, the reader will notice that the proposals for the most part do not empower the Latin American family or home economy, but certainly grow the State. Precisely what our neighbors need less of!



Images for the Lazarillo de Tormes, first known picaresque novel (1554). Antedates Huckleberry Finn by over three centuries.
One of the first impressions any visitor to South America will have is the abundance of street vendors. Many of these do well and seek to leave a better future for their children.

Illusions and Picaresque

Richard Barnes

Carlos André Pérez is usually known as the Venezuelan president who, in the early ’90s, sought to apply some sound economic policies on the country and steer it away from her headlong rush into Socialism. However, his attempts were clumsy, sudden, and, at the time, gave the concept of free markets a bad name in Venezuela. His approach caused large riots and even Hugo Chavez’s attempted coup in 1992. 

What is less remembered is his first term in the late 1970’s whereby he expropriated the iron and petroleum industries and plunged Venezuela further into the Socialism that alarmed him a mere decade later.

Shortly after his first inauguration in 1974, I walked into an elevator in Ciudad Guayana and saw someone standing at the buttons asking “qué piso?” I thought he was joking. But no, he was one of thousands who now were “employed” thanks to a presidential decree which compelled building managers/owners to install a flesh and blood “operator” in each elevator which, up to then, was perfectly controlled by a mere push of a button with the floor’s number inscribed. 

With one “presidential decree” we were all thrust to the 1935 Waldorf Astoria, sans the luxury, with uniformed elevator operators handling the controls, only these controls were push button automatic, not manual.

It “looked good” in the sense of, “Wow! Look at all these new jobs!” But an elementary school kid could also see what was not seen: the other jobs or capital improvements that were set aside in order to budget for unneeded elevator push buttoneers.

This is illustrative of how the “seen” does not necessarily reflect reality, but rather an illusion.

A few years ago, McKinsey & Company, the well-known and highly regarded global consulting firm, published a paper, Where Will Latin America’s Growth Come From?, which delved into the reasons why seeming economic growth in that massive and resource-rich continent was actually an illusion, or at most, was less than met the eye.

One of several disquieting indices is that Latin America (Mexico, Central and South America, and the Caribbean) whose sovereignty exceeds 13% of the earth’s area, constitutes a mere 7% of the world’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP). The comparable figures for The United States are 6% and 15%, respectively, an almost perfectly inverse relationship: half the sovereignty and double the GDP.

In addition, there is little if any measurable economic growth in Latin America. While global annual growth averaged 3.5% in the last three years, Latin America’s averaged 1%.

For the most part, McKinsey’s conclusions and recommendations are rather predictable, not to say pedestrian.

For example, the report criticizes the weak enforcement of “stringent regulations”. Which is it: weak enforcement, or stringent regulations? Why not take the more politically incorrect position of recommending the lifting of Latin America’s sclerotic regulatory empires?

McKinsey rightly, but inconsistently, criticizes the monstrous labor laws that make it very difficult for employers, and employees, to act freely, whether this means firings or re-assignments. 

And here is an eye-opener: 

“Service sectors, too, suffer from poorly enforced regulations that encourage informality and therefore constrain productivity growth. Informality arises as many firms have strong incentives to avoid becoming formal because of high taxes, poor auditing capabilities, and low levels of sanctions. Inefficient informal players stay in business and prevent more productive, formal companies from gaining market share, constraining overall productivity. ….the substantial cost advantage that informal companies gain by avoiding taxes and regulations more than offset their low productivity and small scale, and distorts competition. Regulations are therefore needed that reduce the cost of formal employment … and raise the risks of noncompliance (for example, better monitoring and prosecution of informal operations)….” (emphasis mine)

Bravely spoken.

In sum, what McKinsey skates around is that there is an “informal” (underground) economy in Latin America that is not measured and that avoids the implacable obstacles and barriers to business set up by the bureaucratic Latin American regimes. This underground economy is so efficient and pervasive that it depresses the “regulated” economic performance. 

Would it not make more sense then, to imitate and replicate that “informal” economy? To find why it succeeds? To reduce the regulations that ensure it continues unabated? But no, McKinsey recommends tossing a massive wet blanket on that economy and bringing it to heel along with the rest of the slow-moving, molasses of business that operates under “stringent” regulations. 

In other words, “inefficient” informal players hinder more efficient formal ones, according to the report. Could it be that the “informal” players are very efficient? They’ve figured out how to make a living by setting themselves free from the heavy regulatory load imposed by clueless bureaucrats and politicians who believe that forcing the hiring of employees to push elevator buttons will increase employment overall. 

Could it be that such “inefficient” informal players cannot be measured since they are underground, after all?  I wonder what Latin America’s true GDP is. Could McKinsey apply its considerable talent and figure out a way to measure Latin America’s informal (underground) economy and incorporate it to the conventional measurements? 

When it comes to Latin America, I believe the standard measurements are an illusion.

I have utmost respect for McKinsey and such consulting firms in general. Having cut my teeth at Arthur Andersen I do appreciate the hard work and effort required to prepare a report addressing a business entity, let alone a massive region of the world. However, the professions do tend to have conventional views, despite their reputation as beings who know how to “think outside the box.”

But modern consulting firms take far too little account of the folks who, because of circumstances (regulations and obstacles) imposed on them, must either die or learn pretty quickly to live by their wits.

This brings us to the picaresque, whose etymology hearkens to Spain.

We will look at this term and its implications to Latin America next time.

(The McKinsey report has other observations worthy of further discussion. We’ll return to it in future posts.)

Manual controls: when elevator operators were needed.
In 1974, pursuant to a presidential decree, elevators in Venezuela henceforth had to be operated by an elevator operator employed to push buttons like the above.
It is not unusual for street vendors such as the above (Quito, Ecuador) to put their children through college selling mangoes. Instead of more regulations to discourage these hard working folks, how about less regulations to encourage them to become “legit”? 

Security

Richard Barnes

“Security can get on the nerves just as much as danger.” (Brown in Graham Greene’s The Comedians – 1965)

I am in a minority in refusing to see politicians and bureaucrats as beings before whom we, as bleating sheep, must bow the knee as if they were our wise and compassionate shepherds.

In general, I do not think they are wise, and I do not think they are compassionate.

I am in an even smaller minority in my viewing church leaders with deep disappointment in how we are responding to the current state of affairs. (But those country churches, mostly non-denominational, whose leaders still have the backbone of our forebears, have earned my respect in recent weeks.)

It has become very clear that, in general, if our founding era’s church leaders had been like those of today’s, we’d still be speaking the king’s English.

Spare me the theological expositions and explanations. Looking at the fruit tells me what I need to know. And that fruit lacks courage.

This is the context in which my respect for my father, which was already of the utmost, has in recent weeks done what I would have considered to have been impossible a mere month ago.

It has grown.

He was not a great reader or student of philosophy or theology, although he, and my mother, played a key role in preparing me to appreciate such, and more.

But he was courageous.

And he was loyal.

He loved God and he loved country and he loved home. Besides him, I can think of very few men — very few — whom I would want with me in a foxhole, or in any trial or crisis of life.  One I can think of died many years ago. I still see him as he walks from his little shack up to the labor camp alongside his burro. Another, died relatively recently. I see him as he drives his truck up my driveway on a Sunday afternoon as I’m listening to the BBC on short wave radio.

I used to think I am easily impressed. I guess I’m not.

The scene: San Félix, a town on the shores of the Orinoco River. It’s about 10 P.M. on a night in the 1940’s. Communist militants and sympathizers have been active. My father and the company controller, Mr. T, have been at the town’s movie theater and are now heading to the company pickup to drive back to Palúa, the riverfront camp.

A group of about 10 men accosted them and one ran up to Mr. T and struck him in the face, knocking him down. His glasses hit the ground and cracked.

Striking a man with glasses was considered cowardly. Striking an older man, such as Mr. T, was unforgivable. 

My father instinctively swung and landed his fist with a violent blow against the jaw of the perpetrator, who fell back awkwardly and heavily with a muffled thud on the dusty street. Then he realized: the man was drunk.

He looked up and saw that the other men stood, staring at him. Some were drunk, while others seemed sober, but sullen.

“Men, your friend is drunk. Otherwise, I am sure he would never have struck an older man wearing glasses. I assume you do not want to see your friend get hurt. Help him get up and return to his home! There is no need for us to fight. If you have any grievances, you must know by now that we will happily [con gusto] receive you and talk with you about it. Will you help your friend?”

As he spoke to the men, in perfect Spanish, Mr. T, following my father’s whispered commands, slowly made his way, undisturbed to the pickup, glancing back at my father, knowing that if the situation got out of hand, there would have been little for him to do to help out.

No one moved, except for the man on the ground, who rolled over on his stomach and vomited.

He clearly was not going to get up unassisted.

A man stepped forward and knelt by the fallen man, taking his left arm and wrapping it over his shoulder, “B, listen to me, I am going to stand up slowly, but I need you to hold on to me. Escúchame!” Then, looking over his shoulder, “Men, I need your help! Vengan!”

At this, the men stepped forward, almost in unison, and, having come to the area where B had fallen, strove to help the kneeling man rise along with the other, who was rapidly gaining full consciousness.

Eventually, about 5 or 6 of them accompanied the man helping B towards the south end of the town. The group, composed of individuals insistent on helping out one-by-one or two-by-two, continued southward, looking like a receding Rorschach test image. Others remained nearby, looking at Mr. T in the pickup as my father, leaning on the passenger side’s door, talked with him while also looking back, off and on, at them.

I did not learn about this incident from my father. In fact, I never heard him talk about it.

One summer, in the 1970’s, I interned at the mining office and, during my breaks, I’d visit the archives and read the dusty, decades-old memoranda submitted over the years by the general managers and controllers to the Pennsylvania home office. I came across a memorandum with a vivid description of my father’s actions many years before. The controller freely admitted, in his own writing, that my father likely saved him from great bodily harm that night in San Félix.

I know of several other such incidents involving my father, at least one of which occurred in my presence.

The circumstances for each were different. But they all pointed to one common constant: courage. A man’s refusal to be governed only by security. In doing so, he, ironically, created security for himself and for others.

We need to learn from such men again.

Palúa was about a mile west of San Félix (now part of Ciudad Guayana), and 180 miles from the Orinoco River delta.
San Félix, circa late 40s, early 50s. The theater (not pictured) was about a block to the right.
San Félix at the Caroní River ferry crossing, circa mid-50s
My father and Mr. T, circa 1948. San Félix, Venezuela.
My father and Mr. T, circa 1960. El Pao, Venezuela.
My father and me, circa 1963, on the Orinoco River, headed towards the great Orinoco delta on the Atlantic Ocean

The Bible and Quarantine – Addendum

Richard Barnes

Well, YouTube is on a mission to find any channel that has the interview of the emergency room doctors which I briefly discussed in my prior post (here). All links in my post have been blocked. 

YouTube has said they will remove anything on the Coronavirus that does not adhere to the WHO standards [sic!]. Yes, the same WHO who followed China’s script and delayed sounding the alarm. The same WHO which has been all over the map as to what and what is not recommended. That WHO.

Talk about rich.

And here is the official statement from the American College of Emergency Physicians:

“The American College of Emergency Physicians (ACEP) and the American Academy of Emergency Medicine (AAEM) jointly and emphatically condemn the recent opinions released by Dr. Daniel Erickson and Dr. Artin Massihi. These reckless and untested musings do not speak for medical societies and inconsistent with current science and epidemiology regarding COVID-19. As owners of local urgent care clinics, it appears these two individuals are releasing biased, non-peer reviewed data to advance their personal financial interests without regard for the public’s health.

“COVID-19 misinformation is widespread and dangerous. Members of ACEP and AAEM are first-hand witnesses to the human toll that COVID-19 is taking on our communities. ACEP and AAEM strongly advise against using any statements of Drs. Erickson and Massihi as a basis for policy and decision making.”

Now, anyone having passed a high school course on rhetoric and basic science would immediately see the outrageous problems in the above statement. Did you catch them? 

First, ad hominem attacks have no place in genuine scientific inquiry. I’ve long ago lost respect for “official bodies”. Think the American Bar Association’s (ABA) recommendations for Supreme Court justices. For example, once the late Judge Robert Bork was nominated for the Supreme Court, the estimable ABA, after having found him “highly qualified” for all other nominations, suddenly found him “unqualified.” They lost me from that moment on. The above statement by the ACEP and AAEM is one of which the old Soviet Union would have been proud. Do not be surprised if those Jacobin organizations are now seeking to have Drs. Erickson and Massihi’s credentials revoked. 

Lavrentiy Beria, call your office.

Second, there are no peer-reviewed studies on COVID-19! The medical profession and scientific communities are still in the process of learning and understanding. This is a time when open debate should be welcomed, not denounced whenever someone strays from the politburo’s position. 

How revealing a flu can be!

If you have not heard this interview, I strongly urge you to do so. The link below is to the California news station who filmed the interview in the first place. You’ll find the first part (about 50 minutes) and also the second (about 12 minutes). Both are well worth your time. To the very end.

https://www.turnto23.com/news/coronavirus/accelerated-urgent-care-doctors-recommend-lifting-shelter-in-place-order