Chapter 10 #2
The Professor sat down suddenly, then leaned across the table and looked me straight in the eyes. “Matías said you were passionate about cooperatives. Why?”
This was a test; there was no denying it.
I took a sip from my (reusable) water bottle to buy time.
I hadn’t anticipated the necessity of defining my interest in economic justice.
I wiped some sweat off my upper lip. “Cooperatives allow the farmers to organize for better working conditions and pay.”
“Sure. But beyond that?”
“I think cooperatives challenge the current economic order.”
He raised his eyebrows. “How?”
My adrenal glands were working overtime.
“By providing an alternative. It’s great to say you don’t like capitalism, but what are you supposed to do?
Secede from the world? That’s not practical.
But your average person can buy products from co-ops.
And producers can join them. It’s something ordinary people can do to better their community, and by bettering their community, better their world. ”
“Yes,” he said, smiling.
I realized I had been holding my body rigid. But I had passed the test. Well, at least the first one. There were going to be more, I was sure of it.
“Matías was correct in sending you to me. He said that you were a dedicated and intelligent comrade. A sister in the fight.” Matías said that about me ? How did he know?
The Professor leaned back in his chair. “Since we’re both visiting farms, it makes sense to join forces.” I sighed with relief. If he went with me, I wouldn’t have to worry about my terrible sense of direction or general incompetence.
“If it’s all right with you,” he continued, “we’ll divide the labor, much as I detest the division of labor.
” Uh-oh. This did not sound as promising.
“You’re going to visit Café Alegre tomorrow.
It’s an Ethical Coffee International–certified cooperative that has risen to prominence over the last few years.
It should be a good candidate for your Truth Trip. ”
“Wonderful. Is it in the Central Valley?”
“Central Highlands, Guanacaste region. Why?”
“Suzanne mentioned I should stay away from the north. Something about drug-related violence? Organized crime?”
“There has been an uptick in crime in the north, yes, but in reality, it’s all over the country.”
“Does it affect coffee farms?” I asked, my voice going up just a notch.
“It can affect any home or business. Drug runners need safe houses.” My pulse quickened.
Could the farms be pitstops for drug dealers?
! “But I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said.
“The kind of danger you’re more likely to encounter is run-of-the-mill labor unrest. I’m sure you’ve heard about the activists who were murdered in Mexico in the last few years. ”
Gulp. I had not.
“Again. Very unlikely. Take normal precautions.”
Like not provoking guards? “By the way,” I said. “I went to a corporate farm yesterday. Café Bavaria.”
The Professor looked surprised. “That’s a particularly bad one. Dieter Hess is well known for his dirty business practices.”
“Yeah, I snuck into his fields and talked to the laborers.”
Now the Professor looked impressed. I was flooded with pride. “Looks like I don’t need to worry about you,” he said.
Um, no, you should still worry about me.
“Anyhow,” he said. “Since you’re helping me with my research project, I need you to document their business model and ask the pickers some questions.
In the meantime, I’ll visit a few other cooperatives in the Central Valley.
Then you and I will reconvene.” He tapped his coffee mug.
“I’ve already interviewed farmers from all the major networks in Nicaragua, El Salvador, Panamá, and Guatemala. I was saving Costa Rica for last.”
What an incredible man. He was single-handedly attempting to change the face of economics in Central America. I couldn’t believe he was entrusting me with his research. “Thank you, Professor Ramírez.”
“Eugenio.”
Then the Professor reached across the table and took my hands firmly in his. He smiled, baring all of his humongous white teeth, and I came this close to fainting. I had witnessed the dental work of God.
* * *
Ten minutes later I was underneath a trumpet tree on campus, hoping the resident sloth wouldn’t poop on me, and sipping a guanabana milkshake from the campus soda —a mom-and-pop traditional food stand.
I was also wildly waving my phone around for a signal.
I wanted to email Matías and find out why he had said such nice things about me to the Professor.
But before I could write to him, I received this.
TO: Dee Blum
FROM: Matías Khalil
SUBJECT: Charismatic Leaders
I sent my best organizers down to El Salvador last year to check out some maquiladoras and they didn’t even get past the front gates. So I don’t know what you’re talking about with this “spying disaster”—you sound like a pro.
You’re probably meeting with Eugenio right now.
Suzanne sent me your website, and as soon as I read your honors thesis, “The Role of a Charismatic Leader in the Development of Class Consciousness in a Moment of Struggle,” I knew you two were a match.
It got me thinking about my own political evolution.
Eugenio was the charismatic leader who took me to the next level of class consciousness during the Colombian national strikes.
It was a great idea to put your thesis on your website.
And your protest photos—they’re art-gallery worthy.
You remind me of the great protest photographer Hoppy Hopkins.
One quibble. While there are hundreds of your photos on the internet between your website and social media, I couldn’t find any with you actually in them.
How is that even possible? I’m getting a little suspicious.
Are you in Witness Protection? Do you secretly work for a three-letter agency? Are you catfishing Justice Alliance?
Curiously,
Matías
P. S. Do you think a person can still level up, class consciousness-wise, without a charismatic leader to help interpret things for them?
My website?! I didn’t have a website! I googled myself, hit the link, and yep, there it was, “my” website. Could Cody have made it?
“ Hi, I’m Dee ,” said my bio that I had in no way written any part of. “ I’m in Costa Rica taking photos for several news organizations. I plan on going to law school next year. Please check out my photos, as well as my scholarly essays. ”
Scholarly essays?! Then it dawned on me.
My father . He was trying to make my case stronger for law school.
As if they would ever see this! I scrolled through the site.
Dad had created links to all the papers I had ever written in school.
And a gallery with all my protest photos he’d swiped from Instagram.
Matías was right—there were no photos of me, but that was very much intentional.
A big perk of being the one with the camera is you’re not in any of the pictures.
But where had the “sleuthing” thing come from?
I clicked through the links and found my dad had mistakenly taken some fanfic I had written for Veronica Mars and posted it as a personal essay.
Oh my god. My dad must’ve either remotely hacked my computer or broken into the encrypted hard drive I’d left at home.
Jesus Effing Christ! I moved to another country and my dad was still trying to run my life!
TO: Jacob Blum
FROM: Dee Blum
SUBJECT: not cool
Dad. How could you create a website for me ? Don’t you realize you’re totally violating my privacy? How would you like it if I went and messed with your website? “Jacob Blum: Part-Time Real Estate Agent, Full-Time Sad Clown for Hire.”
I wanted to really let him have it, but I knew if I kept going, I’d say something horrible that I’d have to apologize for and feel even more horrible about later.
So I decided to leave it at that and write back to Matías.
I couldn’t believe he had taken the time to read my thesis and engage with it in a meaningful way.
I mean, even I realized it was about a very niche topic.
TO: Matías Khalil
FROM: Dee Blum
SUBJECT: Re: Charismatic Leaders
This is awkward, but I didn’t put those essays on my website.
Or even create the website. It was the work of a cyber stalker who happens to have my same genetic code.
How weird do you think I am? But I’m flattered that you read my thesis.
Yes, I do think some people can level up without the influence of a leader, but I think those autodidacts are rare.
Most people learn better when they have someone to help put things in context.
Speaking of charismatic leaders, thank you for vouching for me to Professor Ramírez.
That was pretty risky of you—now I can vouch for your bravery. Hope I don’t disappoint.
Also hope my new photos won’t disappoint. The pressure is really on with a comparison to the famed Hoppy Hopkins! I’ll be visiting some co-ops soon, so keep your eyes peeled.
Regarding my identity: obviously since I’m a criminal mastermind I’m not going to reveal my methods or likeness. You’ll have to look harder.
“Dee”
I hit send and headed to the bus stop. I couldn’t believe that Matías Khalil, the Matías Khalil of No-More-Capitalism-in-the-Age-of-AI fame, had read my thesis.
And liked it! It was a new, heady experience having people believe in me.
But the flip side was the fear I would disappoint.
I had earned the Professor and Matías’s respect. Would I be able to keep it?