Most travel shows are totally bogus. How many times am I suppose to watch Anthony
Bourdain eat something weird and then say to myself “man, that Anthony sure
does eat some weird stuff.” Or what about Rick Steve and his show Europe ? The PBS
show where the host force feeds you flowery stories of popular destinations
until you’re ready to barf crepes all over the Eiffel Tower . Most of these shows do very little for marginalized
groups of people in the world because they rarely venture into the lives and
struggles of real people in less-than-popular destinations. Sure, these shows
will most likely add some bit of knowledge to your repertoire of facts, but
they are what they are; quaint, cute, and relatively boring “outsider” accounts
of people and places in the world. The
only exception (at least that I’ve found) is The Vice Guide to Travel.
Filled with excellent political insights, witty humor, and
plenty of interesting takes on real-world situations, the Vice Guide to Travel
investigates people and places that most journalists wouldn’t dare visit or
much less even think about. The show is too blunt and true to be aired on cable
television, which is all the more reason you should watch it. Plus, the host is
not just a journalist; deep down, he is a geographer- and a social geographer
at that. You can watch any of the short documentaries and find relations to the
material we’ve read in class.
One particular episode caught my attention. In “The Holy Thugs of Venezuela,” a rather
unusual group of people have been memorialized throughout the city. The Holy Thugs were people who committed
crimes to benefit the poor, and are even described as the “Robin Hoods” of Venezuela by
some. The Holy Thugs have been made as saints by parts of Caracas and are memorialized in various
places. What struck me as extremely out of the ordinary were
the ways that people performed when in the presence of the memorials: People are expected to converse, make hand
gestures, and give offerings (usually of drugs or cigarettes) to the figures that are located in the cemetery. Not only is this type of activity unusual in a cemetery, it's also pretty rare to find people giving drugs to memorials that they refer to as "saints."This type of performance adds to the collective memory that these memorials
encompass; these thugs were not people of prestige and because of this, they
are remembered through performances that recreate and portray them as normal
people.
In Caracas ,
it’s easier for some of the poor to put their faith in the people who protected
their community rather than some popular Catholic saint or political figure
like Chavez. For them, their state and their official religion helped them the
least - It was guys like Tomasito and Crude Oil that brought a sense of relief
and protection to their community, and it’s these Holy Thugs that are chosen to
be remembered. Even after fifty or so
years, the presence of these “thugs” is marked (not through any organization or
government, but by loosely associated individuals) in the landscape.
I could probably try to spell out all the ways that the Holy
Thugs have been memorialized in the ways that Alderman did, or I can let you
guys do so in the comment area (so this will be an easy way for some of you to
contribute to the blog). So let’s put
our thinking caps on, watch the episode, and reflect on how these memorials can
be interpreted as landscapes of Text, Arena, and Performance. Think about the
various locations that these figures are memorialized in, the physical traits
that they are given, who is memorializing them, how they contribute to a sense
of belonging in the community, what message these figures are sending, and how
these memorials compare to some of the memorials that Dr. Foote discussed in his
lecture. To keep the comments from overlapping, just comment on one aspect at a time. Most importantly, have fun with this.
Ken, what an interesting post and video! A definite TV show to put on my “to watch” list as soon I begin experiencing “free time” once again ☺ And even more telling when watching the clip with the metaphors of text, arena, and performance that we have been discussing in class!
ReplyDeleteFor me, it was particularly insightful to watch the clip utilizing the framework of text and asking the questions, “Who is telling the story, who wrote it, and who had the power to write it?” As seen in the clip, and as you reiterated in your blog post, the Holy Thugs of Venezuela have been memorialized mostly by the poor. This is interesting in itself as, often, this population is marginalized, silenced, and denied a voice. The story they tell is one that seeks guidance and puts faith in people like themselves (I think of the lady paying her respects to Ismael Sanchez, and who tells the host, “He was like all of us”). For those who memorialize the Holy Thugs, it is because they identify and relate to them. Unlike political figures who live a life of plenty, or Catholic saints who have done no wrong, the Holy Thugs experienced poverty and made mistakes. Hence, a woman wanting vengeance could cry and ask revenge from the Holy Thugs. They understood.
Intermingled in their stories are issues of contestation as well. The story tellers recognize that the Holy Thugs were not stand-up, law abiding, citizens. But alongside this recognition is a justification of the Holy Thugs: In their lifetimes, they stole for the poor, and now, they help those in prison and those who have strayed into the wrong path. What would be interesting to find out is what those who are not in this story think of the Holy Thugs. Do the government and the Catholic Church recognize and endorse the Holy Thugs and the stories connected to them? Or do they actively contest and disregard the worship of the Holy Thugs?
One other question that came to my mind is one that deals with the influence and impact that specific places have on memorialization. The host introduced the worshiping of the Holy Thugs in Caracas by identifying Caracas as the world’s most violent city. This fact, the host asserts, either makes it perfect, or troubling, that the people of Venezuela are worshipping statues of armed criminals. What if, however, this was not the context of the place in which the Holy Thugs were worshiped? For example, what if the memorialization of “Holy Thugs” happened in Manila, Philippines (predominantly Catholic, with a significant poor population, but who boasts a 60.49% decrease in murders in January 2012 and January 2013)? Would the worship of Holy Thugs still catch on? And what would be the response?
Ken,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your post and watching the video that you included about the “Holy Thugs of Venezuela.” The episode was definitely a departure from the ritzy hotels and family vacation ideas that compose most Travel Channel shows. There was no attempt to hide or alter the reality of this country plagued by violence.
While reading your post, I was able to make a connection to my personal life. In May, I will be travelling to Monopoli, Italy for a two-week service trip. Along with a group of other American volunteers, I will be teaching English to the middle school and high school-aged children in the Puglia region of Italy. A departure from the tourist cities of Rome and Naples, Monopoli has dealt with poverty and is not considered a very desirable area to visit.
In the international sphere, Italy is a destination nation—vineyards, pizza, gelato, high fashion, etc.—these are the visions that pop into the minds of the majority of foreigners who are not familiar with Italy’s troubles. Granted, the horrors of Venezuela and the desperation of the people praying to the Holy Thugs are much worse in comparison to the part of Italy that I am traveling to.
Yet, I strongly feel that it still depicts the “collective memory” that the nation has decided upon—there are no troubles to be heard/ Italy is a place to experience and forget about your worries. However, outside of the delicious food and expensive clothing, there are people who know the nation’s true history and struggle everyday to survive.
This was a great read as well as a great portrayal of last week’s readings about places as metaphors. The points you bring up are valid and well articulated in your blog. Also, the two comments posted by Christine and Kellie show great linkage to your blog and classroom discussions. For me, I wanted to look at the Holy Thugs and their worship site from the metaphorical angle of Arena.
ReplyDeleteIn this approach, according to the Alderman and Dwyer article we read for class, “the emphasis is on contest and spectacle, it prompts us to consider more closely how people present or display their connections with the past to the larger public” (172). In several ways this ties into performance but as Ken asks and Dr. Foote recommends, I should stick to one metaphor.
In this video, the host makes clear the fact that Caracas, Venezuela, is the most violent city in the world with over 14,000 murders last year. Although brief, the host mentions the political implications associated with the worship of the “Holy Thugs” when he mentions how the poverty and violence in this country correlates with Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela, and his Bolivarian Revolution. In this light, the host directs the attention of viewers to different things such as political issues within the country and how traditionally these issues are represented in the landscape in certain ways. The way in which these Venezuelans worship the “Holy Thugs”, who Christine mentions is because they can identify and relate to them, can be seen as a tool or resource for achieving social power, which is an element found in the arena metaphor. The people of Venezuela have, in some ways, given up on the government and by worshiping, what I assume to be a de-legitimate saint/s, they are competing for control over the traditional commemorative process as part of their struggles over identity. This too, is a hallmark element of the arena metaphor found once again in the Alderman and Dwyer article in which they say, “the arena metaphor focuses on the capacity of memorials to serve as sites for social groups to actively debate the meaning of history and compete for control over the commemorative process as part of larger struggles over identity” (166).