Bolivia blog 8: May Day in La Paz

From what I have seen in the last few weeks, Bolivia seems to me to be one of the most politically engaged countries I have experienced. In my short time here, I’ve already stumbled across a number of impromptu demonstrations. Last week in Cochabamba, as I was walking to visit Marcella Olivera, an amazing and inspiring activist who played a significant role in the water wars of 2000 and an active campaigner on water ever since, and people were blockading the crossroads down from her office. It was hard to know why; even the people in Marcella’s office weren’t sure. It’s hardly surprising then, that 1st May, Labour Day, is a big event in La Paz, Bolivian’s capital.

The Labour Day march had started early in the morning in El Alto, one of the poorer districts on the outskirts of La Paz. Still struggling with the altitude (at over 4,000 metres, La Paz is the world’s highest city), I was glad to that I had friends from the cumbra arriving that morning, providing me with an excuse to join the march until a little later when it reached the city’s centre. Not familiar with the route, we went to Plaza Murillo, the march’s final destination, and followed the sound of the fire crackers in the distance. We came out of one of the small side streets, towards the footbridge that crossed La Prada, one of the city’s main streets. La Prada is usually crammed with congested traffic and dirty fumes, but today a brass band lead a sea of thousands down the main road.

We joined the march and the crowds were friendly, welcoming us in. As we turned the corner we noticed the crowd had split and, curiously I wondered if this represented a political division. But shortly after, one of our fellow marchers explained that we were with the ‘fabriles’, the factory workers, and the other part of the march were the ‘commerciantes’, the vendors, and that soon the two groups would meet again. These guys certainly knew how to make sure they take over the town.

People here know how to march. They march in blocks, some orderly, some less so, identifying themselves through dress, colour and large banners and chants, some in traditional dress, some in their uniforms. Some groups walking in lines of single files, some in rows. It turned out that we had initially joined the crowd in front of the coke-a-cola union workers, all carrying coke bottles, and large branded banners, demanding more pay. I’m not sure this was coke’s favoured advertising strategy. But, it must be said, that red coke workers block, each with their small plastic bottles of coke, certainly wasn’t as dramatic as the miners union just a bit further down the road, who bought their section of the march to life by periodically exploding dynamite. Rather different to the samba bands I’m more used to at home, but certainly one way to get attention. ‘One car less’ joked the man next to us. Fortunately, it was a joke.

As we marched onwards, the main concern of this year’s Labour Day became clear. The workers were protesting about the governments proposed pay increase for people on the minimum wage, the wage received by most of the people on the march. This year the proposed increase was only 5 percent. In the last few years the rise had been more, like seven, eight of nine percent. But costs were rising, and people were still struggling. The average wage of just 675 Bolivianos; about £67. The strength of feeling became clear as we walked past the building of the ‘Ministerio Del Trabajo’, the Labour Ministry, to see paint bombs being hurled against the walls, spatterings of red paint just missing us as bursts of red smashed against the walls, greeted by cheers from the other marchers. The leaders of the factory workers unions, someone explained, had been on hunger strike now for ten days now. These are a people who wont give up until they feel justice is reached.