Chavez Won Me Over

I could hear his infamous, deep voice blasting through the loudspeakers as I approached Estadio Ferro from five blocks away. I could also hear the people pounding on their protest drums, their cheers and songs reverberating through the impassioned crowd.

I expected all of this. As I entered the stadium, I took in the scene with skeptical awe—awe for the vivacious crowd and their rousing display of accord with the speaker.

The people stamping on the bleachers, cheering, dancing, jumping (the most enthused doing so while suspended on ropes hanging from the top of the bleachers over the rowdy crowd), were nothing like the audiences I had seen gathered at political rallies in the States, obediently clapping and cheering when necessary or otherwise listening in rapt silence.

I had been persuaded to attend the rally by friends I was studying abroad with in Argentina's capital. My classmates were overjoyed at the opportunity to see the controversial leader speak. I, on the other hand, was skeptical of Chavez, who predictably denounced George Bush and George Washington, while channeling the revolutionary spirits of Che Guevara and José de San Martín.

This continued for at least twenty minutes. I took in the spectacle of the crowd while listening to an inflammatory speech that confirmed all the expectations I had developed with the help of the American news media.

But then something revelatory happened—Chavez began to speak about something. Sure, there were the obligatory “down with Bush," "down with the war," "down with American imperialism,” references.