By the way, why is it that the media never speak of "the extreme religious left"? Are there no religious left-wingers of any stripe? Of course it is not extreme to devalue life, for example. But hey, we're talking religion and that has nothing at all to do with religion except in the minds of the extreme religious right! Would the correct appellation be "the extreme irreligious left"?

Yes, Pérez stayed on in Chile as a computer consultant to the Pinochet government but had nothing to do overtly with the struggle against Communism. To be sure, Pinochet's fanatic opponents would view with extreme hostility any connection at all, no matter how circumspect, but that's long past, long under the bridge. "That covers covertly, too, Pérez?" a reader inquires. "Definitely. Water under the bridge. That's all under the bridge."

The bridge.... With Heisenberg unpredictability, the bridge for Rocuant Alto comes to mind. Unpredictability? Oh, sure, perhaps the first twenty times. Perhaps the first two times?

The U.S. ambassador to Chile was finally going to visit Chile's second city. Shortly prior to that, Eduardo received an invitation from the director of the Instituto Chileno-Ruso to attend a reception for the recently arrived new Russian ambassador. Pérez immediately called his counterpart at the Alliance Française, David Sidet, to discuss this. David opined that in spite of the Cold War—at its iciest at the moment—they should show up and perhaps learn something of value. Eduardo already had his justification and alibi—the pending visit of his own ambassador. It was his duty to check out how this is done.

Knowing better, but wanting to be totally correct with respect to protocol, David and Ed crossed Aníbal Pinto Plaza together and arrived exactly on schedule. Way too early, of course, but lucky for them. They were invited to meet privately with the ambassador until the reception got under way.

The honorable Alexander Anikin received them very cordially in fluent French. He had just begun to learn Spanish. Already quite knowledgeable about Chile, he engaged them in friendly, lively conversation for nearly 30 minutes. Then it was time to enter the salón de actos, a large area serving as an auditorium.

Anikin took his place on the stand with Sergio Vuskevic, director of the Chilean-Russian Binational Center, and an interpreter. Just three people up front would not do. In the absence of other dignitaries, Vuskevic urged the two of them to come forward and seat themselves. A classic "Après vous mon cher David, Après vous mon cher Edouard" routine ensued. (After you, my dear David....) Then David moved toward the steps, shoving Ed ahead of him. Ed resisted as vigorously as possible before the eyes of the mass of people now crowding the hall. He knew what would happen next.

¡Justamente! Exactly right! They had no sooner seated themselves than the real autoridades arrived. El intendente (governor) of the province of Valparaíso, los alcaldes (mayors) of Valparaíso and Viña del Mar, el almirante (admiral), el general militar, el general de carabineros. Ed felt so uncomfortable and embarrassed! He rose to his feet and started toward the steps, insistently gesturing for the dignitaries to come forward and take their places. Quite amused, all friends of Pérez, they gestured to him to forget it. The implication was clear. They had contrived to arrive so late deliberately. No way were they going to grace the stand by sitting next to a Communist Russian ambassador!

(This was pre-Allende, of course. The president of Chile customarily appointed los intendentes, los alcaldes of major cities, and other authorities.) The next morning, May 19, photos of the two of them on the stand with the ambassador appeared on the front pages of El Mercurio de Valparaíso, La Razón, and La Estrella.

On August 4, long after Pérez had decided there would be no hassle, he received a memo transmittal slip attached to a similar photo printed on the front page of El Mercurio de Santiago. The boxes checked on the slip indicated that the memo had gone all the way up the ladder to the U.S. ambassador himself. Under ANY COMMENT? were scrawled the following notes:

1) I'm not sure yet of the ground rules on these matters. We do, of course, observe the usual diplomatic niceties such as mutual calls of our ambassadors on one another. I suppose Eduardo's attendance could be so classified since the story seems to be harmless enough.

2) We would be interested in any reports Eduardo might be inspired to send us as to his observations and impressions of what transpired.

Eduardo was inspired to respond immediately, stating without a trace of sarcasm that he only wanted to observe—insofar as such an occasion might permit—how ambassadors should be received on official visits to provincial cities. (The U.S. ambassador had been in Chile for one full year with no visits. As noted above, the Russian ambassador wasted no time getting out to the people at once.) Then he outlined a proposed itinerary and schedule of events for the ambassador's pending visit to Valparaíso. One stop on the itinerary was Rocuant Alto, one of the city of Valparaíso's most poverty-stricken areas.

The initials scrawled at the bottom of the memo-transmission slip were known to Eduardo. They identified an embassy functionary who had been transferred from Japan. It seemed that the State Department rotated personnel around this way because, staying in one place too long, they could become too closely associated with the host country, too sympathetic toward its people, and skew their observations and recommendations too favorably toward the latters' interests rather than those of the United States. As a consequence, just about all U.S. personnel in the Embassy, as far as Ed was able to observe, had such inadequate Spanish that they relied on native Chilean secretaries for their communications. An incredible situation.

How would a functionary know whether messages and information sent and received were being translated correctly, poorly, or deliberately falsified? How could such an official adequately interpret situations and conditions without knowing something about the society and culture directly, personally, rather than through uncertain, insecure conduits? Ed thinks that this perception is accurate and, if so, he fervently hopes that things have changed since then.

There was at least one "ugly American" in the embassy whom Eduardo was very pleased to meet—ugly in the positive sense of Lederer and Burdick's novel. Just a plain, ordinary, unpretentious guy (No striped pants for him!) who went out among the country people daily, who spoke a fractured Spanish that served to endear him to them—seeing that he was trying so hard—and doing his level best to be of real help to them. An employee of AID, the Agency for International Development, he was a dairy specialist charged with the task of finding out why, in countryside conditions, the milk had such a high bacteria count. He narrowed his findings down to the metal sieves used by the owners of a cow or two—no large herds—to strain the milk. The sieves were never washed and teemed with bacteria. The solution: sterilize the sieves in boiling water.

Lalo's heart still sinks and he grieves over the terrible poverty of so many people back then. Boil water.... Sure. The hillsides above Valparaíso and Viña del Mar said something about that. No trees, no bushes. Hardly any vegetation. Cut down, cut away, to provide a little fuel. Once when a violent storm came in from the Pacific, the two cities were inundated with.... water, yes. More disastrously.... with mud. The hills were eroding away. For several days, the only way to get about was in boats. Or high-wheeled horse-drawn victorias.

O.K. Boiling was not a simple, easy solution. Well, then, of course! Throw those old sieves away. What kind of straining is that, anyway? Let them use cloth. Eduardo's pitying heart cried out, "Let them eat cake!" Words falsely attributed to Marie Antoinette, Archduchess of Austria, bride of Louis XV, when apprised that the poor of Paris were starving. As if these poor ragged people had any cloth to spare. Plus, back to the same problem of hot water to wash clothes and cloths in.

The Great Depression in the United States.... Terrible poverty. Real want. Much suffering. But these poor, poor people would have thought it a big step forward on the way to heaven. Thanks in great part to Pinochet, the situation has changed. There is poverty but not that intractable.

So ugly old J.... (he'll ki... mildly reprove Ed if he reads this) pronounced the solution: No straining at all. The sieves did no good. Only harm. This was the best solution, no doubt, but a problem remained. Peasants, country dwellers, tend to be very traditional. It's not easy to get them to change their ways. Out on the pampa in Argentina, people speak of los pagos (from Latin pagus, country). So, to the Romans, peasants were....? In English.... two guesses. Pérez means to say two educated tries. They were pag _ _ s. O.K., three tries, if you need one more. Who were the last, the most recalcitrant Romans to accept Christianity? "Hmmm," you ponder; then your eyes light up. Must have been the country dwellers, the pagans! Score yourself 100%—300% if you already knew Latin pagus, paganus (peasant, singular), pagani (peasants, plural).

Well, fondly remembered, handsome old Joe Weight initiated change and it was beginning to take hold somewhat. This was one instance where AID funding filtered down to the people instead of ending up in the pockets of burocrats and fat cats. The truly ugly Americans in Lederer and Burdick's novel were the U.S. diplomats who couldn't bother to learn the language of the people or to interest themselves in their quaint customs and deplorably shabby, backward way of life. These striped-pants "beautiful" Americans, undeniably well-suited for it, were blindly setting us up for a disastrous blundering lurch into the quagmire of Vietnam.

And now, something printed out from the internet, thanks to Anneliese. About time Ed got around to this!

Alopecia Areata. In alopecia areata, round patches of hair loss appear suddenly, most often affecting the scalp. However, any hair-bearing area can be affected. It can occur at any age.

What causes alopecia areata? Hair loss is often discovered by a mother dressing her child's hair, as there usually are no prior indications. The hair stops growing and then falls out from the roots. The cause is a mystery. It is considered to be one of the auto-immune disorders—the immune system starts to reject the hair for unknown reasons. It may occur in more than one member of the family, and such families may develop other auto-immune diseases such as pernicious anemia and vitiligo [a disorder in which there is a loss of pigment resulting in white patches of skin]. Alopecia areata is not contagious and is not caused by any food. It sometimes starts after a stressful event, but this is not usually the case. Alopecia areata has three stages. First there is sudden loss of hair, then enlargement of the patches of hair loss. Lastly new hair grows back. This may take months and sometimes years.

"Well, that's pretty much as Laura described it, Ed. She was combing Alice's hair one day when she discovered some bare spots. The poor darling! She was only four at the time. The hair kept coming out so she had to start wearing a scarf on her head. No wigs her size were available back then. Laura and Donald tried everything. So many miraculous cures were being touted, you'd think we were still back in the "snake oil" days. They even took Alice to a "specialist" who was going to restore her hair through electromagnetism. The absurdly fake gadget had coils and tubes on it like.... like.... Remember Rube Goldberg? His cartoons were famous even in Austria.... Like some Rube Goldberg contraption.

"Don and Laura were very concerned. You know how thoughtlessly cruel young children can be. They would try to snatch the scarf off her head while screaming 'Baldy! Baldy!' Something had to be done. All they could come up with, though, was a nice variety of pretty scarves. She wasn't in school, yet, so that helped. Fewer kids around. But Alice was very plucky. She suffered, but was holding up better than others in her situation might have.

"Look at this other item I found under Hair loss scams."

The simple facts of hair loss Hair follicles can die. Sadly, some follicles slowly shrink and die in the presence of DHT. This causes 95% of all hair loss. DHT (Dihydrotestosterone) is created naturally inside your body when the enzyme 5 alpha reductase combines with the hormone testosterone. In both men and women, it's called androgenetic alopecia. Your follicles aren't blocked, malnourished or suffering from poor circulation. They're dying from DHT. Anything that will stop hair loss or regrow hair must block DHT or overpower its effects. This can only occur at the molecular level inside your body. Hair loss scams are everywhere. They want your money. They use the sneakiest words imaginable to make you think their products can help thinning hair, slow hair loss or grow hair. They're all over the Internet. They're pushed through salons. They're advertised on TV, radio and in magazines nationwide. More will come and no one's there to stop them. The media isn't legally responsible. The government can't protect you. It's all up to you.

Painfully obvious. The obvious scams are based on crazy explanations of hair loss. They'll tell you ridiculous things are causing your hair loss and offer their product as a cure. Did you read The simple facts of hair loss? Read it again. Now that you know what causes 95% of all hair loss, you'll spot these guys a mile away. Not so obvious. Other scams are harder to spot. Be careful. They start with the truth. They actually give you the facts of hair loss. It's like a big, warm hug. It makes you drop your guard in a hurry. Then they offer their product as a potential cure. Look carefully and you'll see that their cure has nothing to do with the cause. It's a scam. The ultimate test. Anyone can make claims. Claims are worthless without tests. Tests establish a product's effectiveness. When a company implies that its product stops hair loss, treats thinning hair or grows hair, call them. Ask them for "product test information". If they refuse, move on. Don't give them a penny. If you get product test information or any reference to medical journal articles, grab them and read the Clinical Crash Course:

Top 10 Hair Loss Scams

Lighten up. Now that you and everyone else know the truth, we can all have a good laugh the next time we see unsubstantiated claims that start off with...

#1 Your follicles are blocked! Your hairs are ready to pop right out, but your follicles are clogged. Buy our Magic Shampoo and wash the hairs back on your head.

#2 You have poor circulation! What your scalp really needs is more blood. Then your hair can grow. Of course even a bald scalp bleeds profusely when cut, but ignore this.

#3 Your follicles are malnourished! Vitamins and nutritional supplements are not a cure for hair loss. Besides, there are plenty of bald guys at the health food stores.

#4 It's not from the U.S.! It's from Europe! It's from China! Well, then it must grow hair. The U.S.A. cured polio and put a man on the moon but—darn it! We just can't seem to keep up with the rest of the world and their marvelous hair loss cures.

#5 It's really old! It's an ancient remedy. It's so old we almost forgot about it. Suddenly, we remembered it!

#6 Award winning formula! Oscar? Grammy? What award might this be? Scammy?

#7 Customer testimonial! Our customer J.R. tried it and J.R. thinks he sees more hairs in the mirror. Forget all those medical and research journals. If J.R. thinks he sees more hairs, it's gotta be the cure for baldness!

#8 Bugs! Bugs are eating your hair! The bug in question is a mite called Demodex Follicularum. Science has known about them since the 1840's. They're found in all adult humans in all hair follicles all over your body and yet hairs flourish all over your body, even in places you'd rather not have them.

#9 Hypnotize yourself! The FDA finally shut this scam down years ago, but someone will try it again. Hypnosis might make you believe your hair is growing, but when I snap my fingers, you're still bald.

#10 True lies. Watch out. This one is particularly sneaky. They start off with a truthful, detailed explanation of hair loss that is so exquisite, you'll buy any-thing they're selling. They'll transition seamlessly from the truth into the lie they offer. They may offer any of the above lies.

"Well, Anneliese, it's good to have confirmed for us what we've known for some time. For quite a while, though, the doctors had us believing that Alice had alopecia areata and therefore her hair eventually would grow back. It actually did, but then bald spots appeared again. What have you found on alopecia totalis?"

"I'm still working on it. There's so darn much stuff on the internet, you know, a lot of sifting, sorting and evaluation is necessary to find convincing, reliable information."

"O.K., then, I'll go back to my ruminating."

The embassy gave basic approval to Eduardo's proposed itinerary for the ambassador, making only a few emendations and additions. They liked the idea of Rocuant Alto. It would afford some excellent photo ops. As it turned out, the very best photo opportunity, in Ed's opinion—red meat for anti-Yankees—apparently was totally invisible to the photographers. Thankfully, from one point of view, there was not a Communist or Socialist among them. It should be mentioned here that in Chile the Socialists were more aggressively violent than the Communists, who tended to be more scheming, devious, and cautious.

About 37% of the Chilean electorate were certified Socialists and Communists, so this was a somewhat perilous time for American officials in Chile. When a mob in Cairo, Egypt burned down the U.S. Information Center there, it made American personnel —especially those with families—a bit nervous and apprehensive. There was no consulate in Valparaíso­Viña del Mar, so the Instituto was the symbol of U.S. imperialism in the province. Situated on a very narrow block, the Institute was boxed in by two streets, front and rear, with other buildings at each side. Six days a week when Pérez descended at the nearest bus stop—from which he could see the news of the day displayed in large letters beside the entrance to El Mercurio—Pérez could tell at a glance how hot his day was going to be.

U.S. Marines in Dominican Republic. A scorching hot day. Cuban Missile Crisis! Boiling hot days. On days like this, the Institute would be completely cut off by demonstrators. Mobs would surge past with Red banners shouting "Fidel, seguro, al yanqui dale duro!" (Safe and Certain with Fidel, Give the Yankees Hell!—approximately.)

Pérez never could understand this, but the principal expression of Anti-U.S. displeasure and hate took the form of bottles of red ink violently exploded against the Institute. Red, the Communist color.... A symbol of the blood shed through capitalist warmongering? Bloodletting by Lenin, Stalin, Castro et al?

One afternoon during which the throngs chanted incessantly, a group of ladies appealed to Ed to find a way out of the building for them. He had scheduled some English classes in the afternoon for the convenience of housewives. They had to get home. Their children would soon be out of school, their husbands would be returning from work. Ed marched down the stairs to the entrance. Fortunately the Institute was on the top two floors of a three-story building, which made it somewhat safer. Ed gripped the door handle and pulled. Thunk! At that instant a bottle of red ink hit the door. Ed escaped getting struck in the face by a fraction of a second. No escape for the ladies or anyone in that direction, but luckily they were able to exit at the rear of the building by a seldom used unloading dock.

It was mentioned above that the municipal librarian in Viña del Mar, a Communist, was permanently upset with Pérez over the encroachment of the Instituto on her turf. She was enraged one day when Communist and Socialist demonstrators massed in front of her library and splattered red ink all over its lower façade. The Institute—on the top floor—wasn't even touched.

Pérez frequently found notes in Spanish or English shoved beneath his office door. One sample only, in English:

BEWARE. I WARNE U TO BE ON YOUR GUARD AGAINST [Fulano de Tal— Pérez has suppressed the actual name] WHO TEACHES AT YOUR VIÑA INSTITUTE. HE IS A COMMUNIST AND A SPY. MOST DANGEROUS TO AMERICANS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARN'D BEFORE. AGAINST I WARN YOU. I MUST NOT BE KNOWN. I WAS AT A MEETING SO I KNOW. I SAW AND HEARD.

A WELL WISHER

Fulano de Tal, Fulana de Tal = John Doe, Jane Doe. (Sometimes given as Mengano/ Mengana or Zutano/Zutana de Tal.) Pérez has kept the name anonymous. Reputations can still be destroyed even at this late date. The young man in question had excellent English and was a good teacher, well-liked by his students. When questioned, he denied everything. Pérez took no action. After all, the Communist librarian had the run of the place so what was one more Communist spy?

The note was typed. If hand-written, Fulano de Tal could have easily determined whether it was the señorita in one of his classes whose flirting he had spurned. So he said, anyway. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," was the implication. The intent of the señorita, if Fulano's suspicion had any validity, was to get him fired for rebuffing her.

One of Eduardo's top responsibilities was the establishment of good relations with students. He did so in part by awarding scholarships to study English to student leaders from the Instituto Pedagógico de la Universidad de Chile, La Universidad Católica de Valparaíso and La Universidad Técnica Federico Santa María. He also scheduled programs, recitals, exhibits, lectures, panel discussions, etc. that would be appealing to students and presented films of a documentary type that would excite their interest—in particular those relating to aviation and space. Developments in aerospace were at the top of the news at the time—many exciting launches, flights, discoveries, and experiments that were of interest to the señoritas, too.

Through these scholarships, student leaders would be brought into contact with views and ideals counter to those of the Communists and Socialists—views and ideals that had made the United States of America great. Views and ideals shared by the majority of Chileans. In the Institute they would associate with other young people who shared the majority attitude and outlook.

A balcony looking out over Calle Esmeralda and Plaza Aníbal Pinto was located directly behind Eduardo's desk on the second floor. When demonstrations became too turbulent, threatening violence, he would stand out on the balcony and take things in. During a particularly obstreperous one, the situation was beginning to look very ugly when Ed spotted three student leaders down below and nodded in recognition. An enthusiastic wave might have created problems for them.

Awarding scholarships was a ticklish affair. As throughout much of Latin America back then, anyone who accepted any small favor from a filthy capitalist would be deemed a traitor—a gusano, a worm, in Cuban parlance. True adhesion to a cause cannot be bought. Certainly not by a scholarship for an English course, valuable as it might have been in a very poor country.

What happened next caught Eduardo by surprise and thrilled him as few things have in his life. The three student leaders suddenly began to sing el himno patrio chileno, the Chilean National Anthem: "Puro, Chile, es tu cielo azulado, puras brisas te cruzan también...." (Pure, Chile, is thy sky of blue, pure breezes cross thee too....) Slowly others began to join in and finally everyone. Eduardo did too, of course, fighting back the tears forming in his eyes. He loves Chile with all his heart. The anthem ended. The crowd dispersed.