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| Bolivia's female wrestlers: ringing the changes | Bolivia's female wrestlers: ringing the changes |
| (7 days later) | |
| Yolanda La Amorosa flies through the air in a swirl of gold lamé and petticoats, her calves clamped around the throat of her unfortunate opponent. He spins across the ring to land in a sprawl on the canvas, hand pressed against his lower back, face set in a grimace of agony. "Quieres mas, cabrón? [Do you want more, bastard?]" Yolanda cries as she strides over and kicks him in the back of the head. There's a ripple of applause and laughter from her fellow wrestlers, who are hanging on the ropes, waiting to practise the same sequence. | Yolanda La Amorosa flies through the air in a swirl of gold lamé and petticoats, her calves clamped around the throat of her unfortunate opponent. He spins across the ring to land in a sprawl on the canvas, hand pressed against his lower back, face set in a grimace of agony. "Quieres mas, cabrón? [Do you want more, bastard?]" Yolanda cries as she strides over and kicks him in the back of the head. There's a ripple of applause and laughter from her fellow wrestlers, who are hanging on the ropes, waiting to practise the same sequence. |
| The ring is set up in a junkyard on the outskirts of El Alto, a sprawling migrant city that was once just a suburb of La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. The wrestlers, two women and two men, are training on torn mattresses laid across wooden planks. It's late afternoon and the sun dips behind the peaks of the Andean Altiplano. At over 4,000m, the air is thin and freezing. As the session ends, Yolanda puts on her bowler hat at a jaunty angle, sits on a pile of bricks and says, "So what do you want to know?" | The ring is set up in a junkyard on the outskirts of El Alto, a sprawling migrant city that was once just a suburb of La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. The wrestlers, two women and two men, are training on torn mattresses laid across wooden planks. It's late afternoon and the sun dips behind the peaks of the Andean Altiplano. At over 4,000m, the air is thin and freezing. As the session ends, Yolanda puts on her bowler hat at a jaunty angle, sits on a pile of bricks and says, "So what do you want to know?" |
| Bolivian all-in wrestling has been around since the 1950s. Inspired by Mexico's famous lucha libre, it's a theatrical mix of cartoon violence, acrobatics, goodies and baddies. But by far its most famous exponents are the Cholitas Luchadores. With their pollera bustle skirts, bowlers and pigtails, Bolivia's indigenous Aymara women are icons of Andean culture. About 12 years ago, local wrestler and promoter Juan Mamani hit on the inspired idea of putting them in the wrestling ring. | Bolivian all-in wrestling has been around since the 1950s. Inspired by Mexico's famous lucha libre, it's a theatrical mix of cartoon violence, acrobatics, goodies and baddies. But by far its most famous exponents are the Cholitas Luchadores. With their pollera bustle skirts, bowlers and pigtails, Bolivia's indigenous Aymara women are icons of Andean culture. About 12 years ago, local wrestler and promoter Juan Mamani hit on the inspired idea of putting them in the wrestling ring. |
| Yolanda, then simply Veraluz Cortez, was one of the first to respond to his casting call. "I've got luchador blood in my veins," she tells me. "My father was a wrestler, but he refused to train me. I had to do it all myself through hard work. That's how I became a champion." Born in Brazil, Yolanda moved to Bolivia when her parents separated. She was divorced herself 11 years ago, and raised her two daughters as a single mother until she remarried this year. "I started wrestling to prove to myself, to the macho guys, to everyone, that I could succeed in such a dangerous sport." It's a sentiment shared by the other Cholitas I meet. In a country where machismo is almost a reflex, they see themselves as symbols of female empowerment. | Yolanda, then simply Veraluz Cortez, was one of the first to respond to his casting call. "I've got luchador blood in my veins," she tells me. "My father was a wrestler, but he refused to train me. I had to do it all myself through hard work. That's how I became a champion." Born in Brazil, Yolanda moved to Bolivia when her parents separated. She was divorced herself 11 years ago, and raised her two daughters as a single mother until she remarried this year. "I started wrestling to prove to myself, to the macho guys, to everyone, that I could succeed in such a dangerous sport." It's a sentiment shared by the other Cholitas I meet. In a country where machismo is almost a reflex, they see themselves as symbols of female empowerment. |
| There are other perks, too, of course. While wrestling doesn't pay a lot – between $20 and $30 for a typical Sunday-night session – Cholitas such as Denita The Untouchable, Carmen Rosa and Maria The Damned enjoy the status of minor celebrities. They even tour internationally, in Chile, Argentina and the US. | There are other perks, too, of course. While wrestling doesn't pay a lot – between $20 and $30 for a typical Sunday-night session – Cholitas such as Denita The Untouchable, Carmen Rosa and Maria The Damned enjoy the status of minor celebrities. They even tour internationally, in Chile, Argentina and the US. |
| Life is tough in El Alto. The city was effectively built by the rural poor, fleeing an even harder life in the countryside. Domestic violence is a big issue – in 2009, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights estimated that up to 70% of Bolivian women suffered some form of abuse. Lucha libre is not only an escape from the daily grind, it also casts Aymara women as forces to be reckoned with. "I like the younger Cholitas," says Gisella Garcia, a regular spectator. "I like to see them beating the men." | Life is tough in El Alto. The city was effectively built by the rural poor, fleeing an even harder life in the countryside. Domestic violence is a big issue – in 2009, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights estimated that up to 70% of Bolivian women suffered some form of abuse. Lucha libre is not only an escape from the daily grind, it also casts Aymara women as forces to be reckoned with. "I like the younger Cholitas," says Gisella Garcia, a regular spectator. "I like to see them beating the men." |
| There's a problem with the whole emancipation narrative, though – or, at least, there was. Until last year, El Alto's wrestling scene was controlled by a man. Juan Mamani ran a virtual monopoly, with his Titans Of The Ring brand drawing large crowds to El Alto's Multifunctional Centre each Sunday, including high-paying tourists. But in October 2011, many of the top Cholita wrestlers broke away from Titans and set up their own association. "All of the best wrestlers left," says Marta La Alteña, real name Jenny Herrera, another of Mamani's original protegees. "Mamani was taking all the money. When I broke my arm, he didn't help me at all and he kept telling me to lose. I wasn't prepared to do that." | There's a problem with the whole emancipation narrative, though – or, at least, there was. Until last year, El Alto's wrestling scene was controlled by a man. Juan Mamani ran a virtual monopoly, with his Titans Of The Ring brand drawing large crowds to El Alto's Multifunctional Centre each Sunday, including high-paying tourists. But in October 2011, many of the top Cholita wrestlers broke away from Titans and set up their own association. "All of the best wrestlers left," says Marta La Alteña, real name Jenny Herrera, another of Mamani's original protegees. "Mamani was taking all the money. When I broke my arm, he didn't help me at all and he kept telling me to lose. I wasn't prepared to do that." |
| The new association's Sunday afternoon bouts take place in the Coliseo 12 de Octubre, a cavernous concrete stadium with bleachers for the locals and seats around the ring for tourists. At the back, the Cholitas gather in a tarpaulin tent where they stretch out and fix each other's hair and makeup. I meet Dina The Queen Of The Ring, a shy 28-year-old who has three children and cleans offices for a living. Ten minutes later, she has her masked male opponent in a choke, having just flattened him with a leap from the top rope. He taps out. | The new association's Sunday afternoon bouts take place in the Coliseo 12 de Octubre, a cavernous concrete stadium with bleachers for the locals and seats around the ring for tourists. At the back, the Cholitas gather in a tarpaulin tent where they stretch out and fix each other's hair and makeup. I meet Dina The Queen Of The Ring, a shy 28-year-old who has three children and cleans offices for a living. Ten minutes later, she has her masked male opponent in a choke, having just flattened him with a leap from the top rope. He taps out. |
| Next up, it's Denita The Untouchable, a goodie, against Marta La Alteña who, despite her relative bulk, delivers a quick series of hair-raising throws, then smothers the dazed Denita with her ample backside. The momentum shifts, though, and Denita starts displaying some of the speed and grace that earned her the untouchable moniker. It looks as if Marta is going to be counted out, but referee Ali Farak, a legendary baddie in the 1970s, who also happens to be Denita's dad, intervenes by breaking a wooden crate over his daughter's back. Marta pulls her up by her pigtails and starts spinning her round like a top, to a chorus of delighted boos from the crowd. | Next up, it's Denita The Untouchable, a goodie, against Marta La Alteña who, despite her relative bulk, delivers a quick series of hair-raising throws, then smothers the dazed Denita with her ample backside. The momentum shifts, though, and Denita starts displaying some of the speed and grace that earned her the untouchable moniker. It looks as if Marta is going to be counted out, but referee Ali Farak, a legendary baddie in the 1970s, who also happens to be Denita's dad, intervenes by breaking a wooden crate over his daughter's back. Marta pulls her up by her pigtails and starts spinning her round like a top, to a chorus of delighted boos from the crowd. |
| Backstage afterwards, the pair embrace casually. There is an easy camaraderie among the Cholitas, a sense of shared pride in their identity. For years, the term chola was derogatory, synonymous with the lowest social status in Bolivia. But just as the pigtails and polleras imposed by the Spanish 300 years ago are now a badge of honour for the Aymara, to be a chola is to be tough, independent and resourceful. | Backstage afterwards, the pair embrace casually. There is an easy camaraderie among the Cholitas, a sense of shared pride in their identity. For years, the term chola was derogatory, synonymous with the lowest social status in Bolivia. But just as the pigtails and polleras imposed by the Spanish 300 years ago are now a badge of honour for the Aymara, to be a chola is to be tough, independent and resourceful. |
| Populist president Evo Morales, himself Aymara, has been a vocal champion of the predominantly poor indigenous population, in particular its women. In 2010, he put together a cabinet with an even gender split, including three indigenous women. There are signs of an emerging indigenous middle class in La Paz. "Five years ago, we were looked down upon – we used to just wait on the rich," Yolanda says as we sit in the little restaurant she runs. "But now look at us. We're working in banks, in offices, even in government. We've shown that we are strong, entrepreneurial. And we won't be humiliated any more." | Populist president Evo Morales, himself Aymara, has been a vocal champion of the predominantly poor indigenous population, in particular its women. In 2010, he put together a cabinet with an even gender split, including three indigenous women. There are signs of an emerging indigenous middle class in La Paz. "Five years ago, we were looked down upon – we used to just wait on the rich," Yolanda says as we sit in the little restaurant she runs. "But now look at us. We're working in banks, in offices, even in government. We've shown that we are strong, entrepreneurial. And we won't be humiliated any more." |
| • To see James Morgan and Johnny Langenheim's film about cholitas, go to vimeo.com. | • To see James Morgan and Johnny Langenheim's film about cholitas, go to vimeo.com. |
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