Are you the baby-faced mayor?

We had arranged to interview the mayor the previous day. Our 9am appointment was penciled into a day plannar by the secretary seated at a small desk in the cement foyer of the open-air buildilng.

We began the waiting process at 8:45am. For those of you who have ever tried to do anything in an official capacity in Latin America, you know what I mean. I should make a documentary about all the things I've done while waiting for a meeting or an interview or even for the lady who sold me water to find change for my ten Bs (about a dollar).

Point being, we were sitting outside the mayor's office, watching all kinds of people file in and out, dogs scratching themselves, people drive by carrying ladders on their motorcycles, etc. After about a half hour it dawned on us that perhaps we had already seen the mayor, and hadn't recognized him because in reality we have no idea what he looks like. Rodrigo, our housemate and a biologist contracted by our NGO, informed us in a serious tone that although the mayor may have a childlike face, he was a man to be taken seriously.

Eventually we were let into to a small yellow room, concrete walls, a central desk, some shelves with papers, and a outdoor-strength spotlight aimed at the mayor's chair. He doesn't really look baby-faced, though perhaps young. Greetings and kisses all around. We chat briefly and are told to come back later when he is ready for an interview.

So I lug the camera and gear back outside. An small old man in the plaza wanders over and expresses interest in being interviewed. We set up a morning meeting with him. Why not?

Back to the mayor's office. Back to sitting our our bench. Eventually the secretary lets us into the office again and I set up the camera and microphones. We turn on the spotlight clamped onto the wall to let some light into the basement-like office. Roger asks the questions. The mayor answers. It's is all very pansy-like, we aren't exactly grilling him since our film is for the NGO which supports this planning process for development. This is really more of a puff piece.

Roger's last question is about what inspired the mayor to care about conservation, in addition to the economic success of the region. I zoom in on his face for this one. He leans back and says there are two kinds of learning: from school and from one's family. His father, who never wanted him to go into politics, always thought that one day this could be a great city. His father had great hopes for the city, that it would be a place to make Bolivia proud. And then, inexplicably, he begins to cry. I didn't realize it at first, because I thought he had something in his throat. But, silently, he was crying.

We felt terrible. I turned off the camera. We sat there awkwardly. After a few moments he explained that his father had passed away (atleast five years ago) in an accident. It was so strange that our innocent questioning had revealed the human side of the elusive mayor. We talked a bit more about growing up and family-- stories always sound more romantic in Spanish. When we parted ways it was with a good deal of respect for the baby-faced mayor.