to assume leadership of the entire continent. "First Bolivia, then
Ecuador; after that Peru and Colombia," one confided. "Chavez
wants to control all the oil and gas in South America. He thinks
he's a modern-day Bolivar."
I celebrated the arrival of the New Year in the Presidential
Palace. Evo Morales strolled in shortly before midnight. He had
promised to welcome 2007 by holding a press conference to
outline some of his new programs. As he stepped before the
television cameras, I glanced around at that sumptuous building; I
looked at the members of the press—a woman from England's
The Economist magazine, a man from the United States
representing the Associated Press, and reporters from many Latin
American countries. Morales appeared to be exhausted. I
wondered what he was feeling, standing there alone, this man
who had risen from such humble beginnings and now was making
news across the entire planet. One thing seemed certain: His
presidency would not be an easy one.
Flying from La Paz back to Miami on the first day of 2007, I
thought about my experience in Guatemala with Pepe Jaramillo in
1992. It had turned out to be much more significant than I could
possibly have realized at the time. I had traveled there as the
representative of a U.S. corporation, to explore the prospects of
exploiting Mayan resources, but I was also working closely in
those days with a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping the
Mayas protect their lands and sustain their culture. I did not fully
appreciate my dual role; nor did I understand the contradictions in
my life— contradictions that reflected those of my country.
Now, on this flight from Bolivia, like then, I was returning to a
culture that professes to respect human rights and yet enjoys a
materialism that is built on exploiting workers in other lands. I
live in a nation that has less than 5 percent of the world's
population, but manages to consume over 25 percent of its
resources, a society that