Hasta la victoria siempre. ¡Patria o muerte! ¡Venceremos! ...

Have just returned from Che’s house in Alta Gracia. I got out in my shorts because yesterday I was sweating I’m my Bolivian fleece in a theater, so I guessed shorts would be more appropriate than pants and fleece in Cordoba. How do you guess the weather here? Anyway, I was debating whether to go or not talking to my espresso cup in a late afternoon today. I decided to go. The bus broke down on a midway to town and a wind was trying to its best to throw us off the road. We were distributed over several buses along the way and finally made it to Alta Gracia, a place where a great Che was razed.

I never thought of him as great. Really, he was a charismatic figure in history, very appealing to the young ¨revolutionaries¨ and fashion companies to market their otherwise unsold shit. So there he was, a black siluet usually on a red background strongly associated with Soviets, Cuba and stupid western or westernized teens. Well, apparently it is not that simple. I’ve learned a bit along the way, heard some people in Latin America, and finally made to his homeland and hometown. Although, he was born in Rosario, his childhood was spent in Alta Gracia. His semi-aristocratic parents brought him here because of his asthma attacks. In any case, the things I learned about Che made me think differently of him. First of all his travels in Latin America, his first means of transportation was a bike, then a motorcycle. I always wanted to do a cross-country on a motorbike back in US. Probably was not meant to be. Also, the movie ¨Motorcycle Diaries¨ are based on this trip. Then he spent a good amount of time in Mexico, one of my favorite countries in Latin America, where he met Fidel Castro.

He is not just a charismatic figure with black curls, a beret, and a cigar. He was an intellectual and father; he loved chess and drinking mate. But none of that was important comparing to the Revolution. His last words in the letter to his older daughter were to be a good revolutionary. Being Soviet born and somewhat raised, it is impossible for me to comprehend. However, Che, being an idealist and to some extent naïve, he just wished that justice would lead the world or at least this part of the world. I was surprised to learn that he resigned all the important political positions he occupied in Cuba and went to Congo to try to make a revolution there. He failed and got back to South America where he died with a ¨coward bullet ¨in Bolivia and was buried in common grave.

Now, you think I’m trying to education you. Well yes I am, and myself too. A famous image if Che in every wall, a T-shirt and even a tie would usually piss me off. Not only because most people don’t even know who he was and what he stand for, but, simply because it was another fashion for them, like wearing Nike sneakers or small black Adidas backpacks.

I’m in Latin America, I too have black curls and smoke cigars. Just need to get a beret and get used to this terrible mate...