The Cross of Bethlehem | Oddisey of an Interview

“Why don’t you write about it,” Jeff answered my email, thanking me for the interview.

To tell the truth I was uncomfortable about that; the restrictions imposed by my refugee status made me reluctant to write about the surrounding events. Yet, the temptation was big and finally I decided to write about most of the events leading to it.

December 2009

Following the publication of <The Cross of Bethlehem, I was invited to an interview with Jeff Rense. I agreed and waited impatiently to the scheduled day. A few hours before the interview – but after the working hours – I was aproached on the street by someone looking like a tourist. In fast Hebrew, he told me that if I gave the interview, a formal complaint would be placed against me.

The chances of such an event to succeed (meaning leading to my expulsion from the country) were slim; yet, I couldn’t endanger my stay here. I have nowhere else to go, since agents of Israel robbed me of all my documents during the attack of July, 2009 on me. So, I cancelled the interview. Coordinating a meeting with the relevant lawyer in late December was impossible. I needed to wait until January.

January 2010

Eventually I met the lawyer. In a long talk he gave me the outlines of how to make the interview safe against a subsequent legal attack. Later on the same day I contacted Jeff and explained some of the limitations. He agreed and a new date was set. His overriding concern was for my safety and welfare.

On Other Interviews

In the past I gave other interviews. They were never free of harrasment. The most notorious one was when I was invited to give a television interview to the leading political journalist here. Scheduled on prime time on the main national network, the event had a redemptive quality for me. It was a public statement regarding my legal status as a refugee and about the Israeli government illegal attacks against me.

Despite the program being usually done live, I was invited to the studios a few hours earlier and the interview was recorded for protective reasons. Giving a live interview on television was inviting troubles at the exit.

When I arrived at the television network building, I found it surrounded by a special task force of the police. They let me in and kept the bad guys out. After the interview, I went for dinner with a friend who had accompanied me to the interview. Police were around us all along the walk. At this stage I thought they were exaggerating. After all, the television event wasn’t live. Yet, during the dinner, three young Israeli men sat next to our table and made themselves obvious. It was a silent threat, but I knew they wouldn’t attack on that day.

Yet, interviews are complex events for me.

Preparations

The coordination of the event was complex. First, there was the time difference. La Paz is four hours ahead of California. What for Jeff was an early hour of the evening was a very late hour for me. A high and cold city, La Paz goes to sleep early; venturing outside at 11PM is almost a suicide in this very violent place.

I needed to find a place with a phone. Internet kiosks do not work at that hour and are too public. The ubiquitous phone booths were discarded for the same reason. Moreover, they do not allow incoming calls. I do not use cellular phones since they can be traced. A guesthouse was the obvious answer.

Roughly at noon of the interview day, I approached the backpackers’ area of the city – I couldn’t afford anything better – searching for a suitable guesthouse. The first I approached had only one room free. I found that difficult to believe, but the receptionist was firm. The same happened with the second one. I wasn’t worried about eavesdropping this time – it was an interview after all – maybe there were plans to sabotage the event. I wanted to make sure I’ll choose the best ground for such a case.

Finally I found a guesthouse where I could play musical chairs with the rooms. Moreover, the rooms had unusually large windows facing an internal corridor; from inside I had excellent view of the area. No one could approach me by surprise.

I rented a room, sent an email with the phone number to Jeff, and entered the room, not planning to leave it until after the interview. I had no desire to advertise my location.

A couple of hours later, two young Israeli women appeared and occupied the room in front of mine. They left the curtains open so that I could see what was going on inside. They spent the whole evening there with the television set off, both of them writing assiduously the whole time. A highly unusual event, maybe it was meant just to unbalance me during the interview. Except for smiling at me every time I looked outside my room, they attempted no contact.

Coffee Break

After the Israeli attack on July, long talks are difficult for me. After a while – and always unexpectedly – I am unable to utter a sound. At the scheduled time of the interview it would be impossible to find a coffee (hot drinks help my throat).

Instead, I drank a cup of acetylcisteine – a medicine used for clearing the throat – a couple of hours before the interview and prayed for the best.

Twenty Minutes before the Interview

Twenty minutes before the interview the phone rang. It was a call from the studios in California checking to be sure the call would get through to my room. The subsequent interview with Jeff was trouble-free, except for the connection being cut once about halfway through. The girls kept smiling at me...and writing.

After the Interview

Along the years, I have experienced many problems with my emails. The most notorious one was when – to show my point – I sent an email from my account to a private one of the refugees’ office from their place. Several years later, the email is still to arrive. “Now you got me scared,” said to me the person who helped me with that experiment.

The fact is that I didn’t get even one email responding to the interview, except for those of friends. I apologize to any listener who attempted contacting me and got no answer. It is not my fault.

The reason d’être of the interview was promoting my book The Cross of Bethlehem My economic survival depends on its success. Six books were sold after the interview. Less than a hundred were sold overall since I lack access to any marketing channels. Its publication was blocked for seven years until I gave up and published it in a Print on Demand system. I beg any reader of this article wanting to help with the promotion of the book – either by opening doors or by financing promotion channels – to contact me through my website.