Before he was Che
I watched Motorcycle Diaries over the weekend with some friends. I've been a fan of Che since I first began reading about him a few years ago. While I don't agree with all that he did or all his practices I admire his commitment to justice and the oppressed.
Motorcycle diaries catalogues a brief period in the young Ernesto's life. A med student from the upper class in Argentina he embarks on a journey across South America with his med school friend Granado. Mid-way through their trip after continuous breakdowns of the motorcycle it can go no farther. Ernesto makes the comment that they'll just have to walk the rest of the way and in process probably meet interesting people along the way. This is the point when everything changes. As the two friends begin to journey on foot they confront people bearing the brunt of unfair dictators and unjust governments. They are the poor and indigenous. Ernesto and Granado allow themselves to delve into life with those who are typically overlooked by society.
The questions began to flow. The heart change has occurred, perhaps some who read this will know what I mean. When I am confronted by something that is not right I have to acknowledge it. I can either choose to do nothing, or I can choose to try and amend it, or work towards change. Either way I am responsible for the solution or else I add to the problem by closing my eyes and forgetting what was just witnessed.
So it was portrayed in the movie. I don't know if this was "the beginning" for Ernesto Guevarra, as his major turning point came a few years later when Guatemala fell into the hands of a corrupt dictator, but surely it was an experience that spurred further thought on the constant contradictions present within the human race.
I appreciate the symbolism of having to forego the convenience of rapid transit and instead be forced to walk. I am always amazed when I take walks within my own neighborhood and notice something I've never noticed before even though I've lived there for 1 1/2 years. It's a spiritual discipline to step outside ourselves, our boxes, our comfort zones and experience life as others see and experience it. It can be an act as simple as riding a bus to work and drinking in the sites, colors of people, smells of body odor, and listening to the many fascinating stories waiting to be shared among the community of bus riders, or something as big as venturing to a country with a culture very different from the one we are accustomed to.
Motorcycle diaries catalogues a brief period in the young Ernesto's life. A med student from the upper class in Argentina he embarks on a journey across South America with his med school friend Granado. Mid-way through their trip after continuous breakdowns of the motorcycle it can go no farther. Ernesto makes the comment that they'll just have to walk the rest of the way and in process probably meet interesting people along the way. This is the point when everything changes. As the two friends begin to journey on foot they confront people bearing the brunt of unfair dictators and unjust governments. They are the poor and indigenous. Ernesto and Granado allow themselves to delve into life with those who are typically overlooked by society.
The questions began to flow. The heart change has occurred, perhaps some who read this will know what I mean. When I am confronted by something that is not right I have to acknowledge it. I can either choose to do nothing, or I can choose to try and amend it, or work towards change. Either way I am responsible for the solution or else I add to the problem by closing my eyes and forgetting what was just witnessed.
So it was portrayed in the movie. I don't know if this was "the beginning" for Ernesto Guevarra, as his major turning point came a few years later when Guatemala fell into the hands of a corrupt dictator, but surely it was an experience that spurred further thought on the constant contradictions present within the human race.
I appreciate the symbolism of having to forego the convenience of rapid transit and instead be forced to walk. I am always amazed when I take walks within my own neighborhood and notice something I've never noticed before even though I've lived there for 1 1/2 years. It's a spiritual discipline to step outside ourselves, our boxes, our comfort zones and experience life as others see and experience it. It can be an act as simple as riding a bus to work and drinking in the sites, colors of people, smells of body odor, and listening to the many fascinating stories waiting to be shared among the community of bus riders, or something as big as venturing to a country with a culture very different from the one we are accustomed to.
