Quotes by Yossi Ghinsberg

Feeling at home anywhere on earth, and a foreigner even in the country where I was born, I consider myself an earthling, a citizen of the world.I love nature dearly and all creatures that contribute to make it what it is. I see the beauty in all expressions of life, and I see how blind so many of us still are. Our planet is remarkably abundant and theres more than enough for us all.It is greed and shortsightedness that create the illusion of scarcity. I have lived through tremendous adventures and survived only because other people risked their lives for me. Realising how interconnected and interdependent we all are, I am neither shy or embarrassed when it is time for me lean on another to ask for help. And when I have the opportunity to help another, I view it as my duty and privilege.

I am a living soul dwelling on a planet that is afloat in a universe radiant with life. I feel so small and at the same time so uniquely privileged to partake in that inconceivable mystery.

I just have to make it to the Tuichi I mumbled to myself, I just have to make it to the Tuichi.Alone, deep in the jungle, so small and insignificant, pitted against nature, still I sensed someone was watching me. Or watching over me.Someone could see me, someone was providing for me

When we came out of the cookhouse, we found the boys father, the Indian man who had been grazing the horses in the pasture, waiting for us. He wanted someone to tell his troubles to. He looked about guardedly, afraid that the Señora might overhear him.Take a look at me he said. I dont even know how old I am. When I was young, the Señor brought me here. He promised to pay me and give me a plot of my own. Look at my clothes he said, pointing to the patches covering his body. I cant remember how many years Ive been wearing them. I have no others. I live in a mud hut with my wife and sons. They all work for the Señor like me. They dont go to school. They dont know how to read or write; they dont even speak Spanish. We work for the master, raise his cattle and work his fields. We only get rice and plantains to eat. Nobody takes care of us when we are sick. The women here have their babies in these filthy huts.Why dont you eat meat or at least milk the cows? I asked.We arent allowed to slaughter a cow. And the milk goes to the calves. We cant even have chicken or pork - only if an animal gets sick and dies. Once I raised a pig in my yard he went on. She had a litter of three. When the Señor came back he told the foreman to shoot them. Thats the only time we ever had good meat.I dont mind working for the Señor but I want him to keep his promise. I want a piece of land of my own so I can grow rice and yucca and raise a few chickens and pigs. Thats all. Doesnt he pay you anything? Kevin asked. He says he pays us but he uses our money to buy our food. We never get any cash. Kind sirs, maybe you can help me to persuade the master . Just one little plot is all I want. The master has land, much land.We were shocked by his tale. Marcus took out a notebook and pen. Whats his name?. He wrote down the name. The man didnt know the address. He only knew that the Señor lived in La Paz.Marcus was infuriated. When I find the owner of the ranch, Ill spit right in his eye. What a lousy bastard! I mean, its really incredible. Thats just the way things are, Karl said. Its sad but theres nothing we can do about it.

Whats the story here, Karl? Kevin asked.Hard as it is to believe, these people are slaves, Karl explained.Slaves? I asked skeptically.Well, you might not call them that but they are virtual slaves. They dont receive any pay. They are dealt with harshly. They dont have anywhere else to goWhat about the government? Dont they help? Marcus asked.The government? Karl laughed. The government my eye! Those generals stay in power several years, make a bundle smuggling drugs, and once theyre millionaires, they retire. Some other lousy generals take over from them, and history repeats itself. You think they give a shit what happens to a few lousy Indians?