Obama, Silvio and Demo…
Published in El Universal
(Colombia) on 21 April 2012
by Rodolfo E. Diaz Wright (link to original)
The only document that the president of the United States signed in Colombia was the letter he sent to former mayor of Turbaco, Silvio Carrasquilla. This is due to the special differences that this controversial character has had with Obama, ever since he found out that Obama would be a candidate to occupy the White House. In this sense, if it was about getting approval from the American official, it is clear that the winner of the summit was Silvio, who without invitations, roses, speeches or consent, was able to pass the three rings of security and get inside Obama’s head – even to the point that the official didn’t think about anything other than the famous donkey, Demo, during the three-day summit.
Obama’s letter, which is now presented as a picturesque and anecdotal chapter, is in reality more important than it seemed at first, and shows the willingness of the head of state from the north and the clarity he had about his role in the summit when he accepted to come to Cartagena. His clever colleagues of Latin America tried to take his attention away from Demo, to focus on “boring” subjects, such as the Cuban blockade or the situation in the Falkland Islands. But nothing seemed to move the powerful head of state.
The American president wasn’t moved by the beauty and splendor of our beloved city, neatly organized and prepared exclusively for him. Neither did the 18,000 policemen or the $90 million or so dollars spent leave him speechless, a good portion of which surely came from his aid and now, in the presence of his criticism of the waste and the poor cost-benefit of the summit, have been reduced to less than a third to what was initially accepted.
The president of the most powerful country in the world didn’t let himself get bothered by the stoicism or education of the Cartageneans, who, with their mayor at the head, with patience and resignation accepted all the sacrifices required of them by an excessive and kneeling centralism, which in its hurry to care and please fanatically violated rules, stepped over customs and ran over hundreds of years of history. They made the Clock Tower their cafeteria and almost uprooted the Fort of San Felipe de Barajas from its foundations to set up a party, which the world leader barely attended, overwhelmed by the hundreds of lizards that wanted to flatter him and because of the unbearable weight of his 45 kilo suit, embroidered with copper and steel thread.
Nothing impressed Obama. Not even the statuesque girls that, armed only with tenderness and understanding, led astray the rude “corporate guards” of the president to the winding path of disobedience and irresponsibility. Without meaning to, they created a scandal of international caliber, which, besides overshadowing the summit and its hollow political results, delivered an important weapon on a silver platter to the Republican Party, enabling them to combat, or at least to have a fair fight with, the overwhelming Democratic machine, which thought the reelection was already secure.
The president only had eyes for Demo. In his swift tours of the city, locked inside a limousine with old refrigerator doors, submerged in his thoughts, he only changed his stern look for a cosmetic smile when he sighted amongst the crowd the donkey in the arms of a charismatic Turbaqueran. He became excited like a child. He laughed with all his teeth, raised his hand frenetically and waved until the caravan was out of sight and the president was once more lost in his thoughts – which were never about Cuba or the Falkland Islands.
Obama’s letter, which is now presented as a picturesque and anecdotal chapter, is in reality more important than it seemed at first, and shows the willingness of the head of state from the north and the clarity he had about his role in the summit when he accepted to come to Cartagena. His clever colleagues of Latin America tried to take his attention away from Demo, to focus on “boring” subjects, such as the Cuban blockade or the situation in the Falkland Islands. But nothing seemed to move the powerful head of state.
The American president wasn’t moved by the beauty and splendor of our beloved city, neatly organized and prepared exclusively for him. Neither did the 18,000 policemen or the $90 million or so dollars spent leave him speechless, a good portion of which surely came from his aid and now, in the presence of his criticism of the waste and the poor cost-benefit of the summit, have been reduced to less than a third to what was initially accepted.
The president of the most powerful country in the world didn’t let himself get bothered by the stoicism or education of the Cartageneans, who, with their mayor at the head, with patience and resignation accepted all the sacrifices required of them by an excessive and kneeling centralism, which in its hurry to care and please fanatically violated rules, stepped over customs and ran over hundreds of years of history. They made the Clock Tower their cafeteria and almost uprooted the Fort of San Felipe de Barajas from its foundations to set up a party, which the world leader barely attended, overwhelmed by the hundreds of lizards that wanted to flatter him and because of the unbearable weight of his 45 kilo suit, embroidered with copper and steel thread.
Nothing impressed Obama. Not even the statuesque girls that, armed only with tenderness and understanding, led astray the rude “corporate guards” of the president to the winding path of disobedience and irresponsibility. Without meaning to, they created a scandal of international caliber, which, besides overshadowing the summit and its hollow political results, delivered an important weapon on a silver platter to the Republican Party, enabling them to combat, or at least to have a fair fight with, the overwhelming Democratic machine, which thought the reelection was already secure.
The president only had eyes for Demo. In his swift tours of the city, locked inside a limousine with old refrigerator doors, submerged in his thoughts, he only changed his stern look for a cosmetic smile when he sighted amongst the crowd the donkey in the arms of a charismatic Turbaqueran. He became excited like a child. He laughed with all his teeth, raised his hand frenetically and waved until the caravan was out of sight and the president was once more lost in his thoughts – which were never about Cuba or the Falkland Islands.