Rotten Tomatoes

You don’t need to be Peruvian or to live in Peru to feel ashamed about the political shenanigans happening in that beautiful country; not that they do not happen elsewhere, hélas!

But lately Peru’s sliding down the toboggan of success and going from being Latin America’s rising star to a continental embarrassment: back to poverty with the world’s record for Corona deaths.

For those not in the know -and I don’t blame them- here in a nutshell are the two scandals rocking the country erupting within days of each other.

One took place last week in the Foreign Office, where to quote a friend, they live and die not by the “esprit de corps” but the less palatable “esprit de porc”.The diplomatic charade played out in two acts, one a couple of years ago and the second one just now.The first part took place in Bolivia (not a posting of choice) where the then recently-appointed ambassador in a fit of a. madness, b. Trump-like élan c. altitude sickness or all of the above, advised the maid that whenever “grabbed by the pussy” (sounds familiar?) you should relax and enjoy it”.She recorded the event (strange a maid carrying around a recording device) and the culprit lost his post, his title and his career. Now it appears that his downfall was orchestrated not by foreign powers or disgruntled employees, but by his own bosses in Torre Tagle, a beautiful Colonial Palace and the equivalent of Foggy Bottom, looking less and less palatial by the hour, because of some deep-rooted jealousy.

The aggrieved ambassador last week went public with tapes (again!) that document the Machiavellian sting.

Methinks these awfully overpaid civil servants, who do mostly little on their foreign postings except save money to come back home and buy a condo on the beach, should get serious about our diplomatic goals, stop bickering like old women and mind their manners with the help, to say the least. Good help is far more valuable than most ambassadors. I know this because I had a short-lived career as a Cultural Attaché in Paris where the longest-serving and savvier member of the staff was the chauffeur. In hindsight he was probably paid a handsome retainer to spy on all of us.

We come to THIS week’s humongous scandal, one that rocks not only the foundations of the Republic but also attacks the occupant of the Pizarro Palace (as you can see Lima has many palaces, maybe that explains our courtesan ways) which is the President himself.Here things go down a notch, if possible; aside from involving the most prominent political figure of the land the rest of the so-called cast, is straight out of a provincial farce.

We have a singer-songwriter called Swing -I am NOT making this up- he looks like Elton John in his chubbier years, minus the talent, I fear. Swing apparently came into the political scene during the campaign of the short-lived presidency of PPK, now under house arrest.

As Swing tells it was he who along with Vizcarra, the actual President, concocted the plan to oust PPK, all this while both in Canada where Vizcarra, then PPK’s vice President was serving as his Ambassador, another plum job.In the tapes that have surfaced (more tapes?) Swing says that successful plot was all his doing, something for which he takes great pride. In a mellifluous voice he makes it very clear “that Martin (Vizcarra’s first name and boy! is he on first-name basis with the Prez!) would not be here without me; do not forget I am very intelligent”.

”. The damsel in distress part is played by the President’s secretary, a young woman clearly out of her depth who in tears and with awful syntax rightfully fears ending up in prison, small fry that she is. Apparently the President was sweet on her until he wasn’t and in a moment of clear thinking she says, “Richard (that is Swing’s name) el señor he is not going to help me. He only looks after himself”. The poor girl’s finally got it.

Then we have Vizcarra on tape (this taping mania has got to end) saying, “We all have to get our stories in sync. You (to the secretary) will say that I only saw Richard three times. No. Better say just twice. And don’t memorize what you will say tomorrow to the Prosecutor: write it down”.

We’re fed up of paying for rotten tomatoes.

We’ve had our full of conniving palace intrigues. It’s time to mind the help, stop hiring advisers who strut like rock star-wannabees and try to to appoint secretaries not challenged by power or language