In which The Author, in a Vaguely Theme-Like Manner, addresses such Pertinent Issues as Communism in the Western Hemisphere, the Cuban Cigar Crisis, his lack of Sleep due to the Ongoing Interrogations at the Police Station next door, and Michael Jackson’s Nose, which is the Principle Reason why He, The Author, obstinately refuses to Refer to plastic surgery as “enhancement.”

And now, for all the Americans out there who can’t find it on a map, a tediously-brief history of Bolivia.

Bolivia, as everyone knows, abuts the western border of Brazil. And if you don’t know where Brazil is, well, it’s right next door to Bolivia. Case solved.

Okay, I’ll spell it out for you… It goes like this: Finland, Sweden, Switzerland, Egypt, Antarctica, Oz, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and then Brazil. And then Bolivia. Of course most Americans don’t know this because most Americans don’t care.

Ask any American college student for a history of Bolivia and they’ll likely reply with “Bolivia was a general during the Civil War, which occurred in 1492, after the CIA dumped tea in the Gulf of Tonkin, sparking the Great Depression, which ended with the Cuban Cigar Crisis and the development of the cotton gin by Sammy Davis, Jr.”

Actually, I would be quite impressed with that answer.

The fact of the matter is, since the republic of Bolivia was proclaimed on August 6 of 1825, there have been no fewer than 192 different governments in charge of this parcel of land.

I say all of this because of the fact that today, March 23, is the Dia del Mar, or Day of the Sea. Every year, Bolivians all unite to collectively mope around about losing their 800+ kilometer coastline to Chile in the War of the Pacific (1879-1884).  Bolivians to this day allege that the war was unfairly won by Chile due to the fact that the Chileans invaded during Carnaval.

All things considered, it is a very merry sort of countrywide pouting that goes on; this morning I was awakened by the sound of drums and brass warming up to play for the entire town of Puerto Suarez. This was a welcome departure for me because the two previous mornings I was awakened by the sounds of – no joke—the sounds of brutal torture emanating from the wall which I shared with the Policia Nacional, my house being nestled neatly between the Bolivian Army barracks and the National Police station. But that’s a tangent.

But now as I journey across this country I find that this, its one-hundred-ninety-second government, is quite possibly one of the most interesting things happening in the western hemisphere, aside from (of course) watching those photo-morph animations of Michael Jackson’s nose.

Here it is, in a nutshell. Evo Morales is the first fully indigenous head of state to be elected in Bolivia since 470 years of Spanish conquest. And he wants to nationalize everything. And he’s great chums with Hugo Chavez and the Castro brothers (and if you don’t know who those people are, that’s ok; just ask a college student). And Santa Cruz Department, in which I am sitting at the moment, has voted to secede from the Republic of Bolivia. And the country is being torn apart in two different ways: firstly, between the Cruceños (people from Santa Cruz Department)and the Altiplanos (everyone else); and secondly, between the indigenous peoples and those of European descent.

And let us not forget that Che Guevara was executed in this country only 32 years ago. Che, by the way, was a prominent slave owner in the country of New England during the Oklahoma Land Rush, which occurred in 1776, on Three-Mile Island, and ended after Confederate soldiers under the command of Bolivia detonated the Twin Towers in Washington, DC……