Courtney Szto
"Men ate the cake and left us the crumbs, but now we are united and
advancing. The idea is to show that women can do this on their own."
- Carmen Rosa
Hidden away in South America’s poorest country is a
vibrant example of female empowerment through physical culture. The cholitas
luchadoras, known in English as “The Fighting Cholitas,” are professional
women wrestlers who have carved out a new space for women’s liberation in
Bolivia. The entertainment-sport of lucha libre is a form of freestyle
wresting that is derived from both Mexican lucha
libre and American entertainment wrestling such as WWE (World Wrestling
Entertainment); however, the common tourist assumption is that lucha libre exemplifies Bolivian
tradition and culture rather than the global popularity of wrestling itself. As Caroll and Schipani (2008) from The Guardian point out, “This macho
sport in this macho country, South America’s most impoverished and
conservative, has been flipped into an unlikely feminist phenomenon.”
In an attempt to boost attendance for this
traditionally male dominated sporting event, organizers added women’s matches
and fighting dwarves in 2001. I don’t
know how the dwarves were received, but the women quickly became synonymous
with the sport. The luchadoras fight in outfits resembling the clothing of rural
Bolivians and women who work in the market, known as cholas. Despite the vibrancy
of the large colourful petticoat-type dresses, cholas are symbolic of an oppressed underclass and strong
patriarchy; they are the indigenous women who have historically been
silenced. But with the popularity of
women in lucha libre there has been
“a resurgence of pride in the skirt” (Carroll & Schipani, 2008). The Fighting Cholitas represent a unique
opportunity for female empowerment to challenge the abuse, humiliation, and
oppression generally associated with women in Bolivia. By fighting their way off the ropes in the
ring, they are also moving away from the margins of Bolivian society.
Even though the money earned from wrestling does not
equal a full time job, cholitas are able to supplement their regular jobs with
anywhere from $4-$30 USD per event. This
encourages some of the husbands to accept their wives’ participation in this non-gender
conforming activity. Furthermore, what
The Fighting Cholitas lack in economic income they gain in social mobility. The popularity of the sport, and women such
as Carmen Rosa (aka The Champion), has enabled these women to travel the world
fighting in Japan, Europe, and other areas of South America. These women are celebrities in La Paz where,
literally, everyone knows their names.
Carmen Rosa has even had a documentary made about her (Mamachas del Ring
[2009]), which she has expressed as her proudest achievement. When these women
are featured in media ranging from local papers to National Geographic they make it hard for the world to forget about
them.
Wrestling in their pollera
skirts is an interesting contradiction because the pollera itself is a symbol of oppression and a traditional
construction of femininity but wrestling in these outfits represents a
rejection of passivity. What I find
particularly intriguing about the luchadoras
is that they have appropriated the pollera
skirt to challenge not only gender norms but also cultural stereotypes often
associated with countries of the Global South.
Most tourists who attend a lucha
libre event assume that this form of wrestling is to Bolivia what baseball
is to America, and hockey is to Canada. We, as tourists, often have
preconceived notions of what other cultures look, sound, and smell like in our
imaginations and the cholitas use
this to their advantage. The luchadoras use their iconic skirts to
attract tourists because they know that is what is expected. They capitalize on
our desires as tourists for “authentic” experiences for their own economic
gain.
The Fighting Cholitas have come to symbolize the
strength that exists in Bolivian women. They have found a way to empower themselves
and change their local context. Even
though the fighting is dramatized, the effects on the local community (and
injuries) are very real. What began as a novelty and a sideshow has now become
the main attraction. What other women’s
sport can make that same claim? Certainly neither women’s mixed martial arts nor
women’s soccer can make this claim. Women’s tennis and golf may be able to
claim equal billing on certain occasions but even they cannot contend that they
are the main draw. Western feminism often positions itself as
the benchmark of success and achievement but perhaps we should look South of
the equator more often to find examples of women who have created space and
agency for themselves in a world that generally considers them universally
disempowered. In a world where
opportunities for resistance seem increasingly few and far in between, the cholitas demonstrate that power is a
constant struggle and that opportunities can arise in surprising arenas. So if you are ever in Bolivia and looking to take in some “culture,” consider attending a lucha libre match. The cholitas
will be waiting for you.
References
Carroll,
R. & Schipani, A. (2008, August
30). Bolivia: Welcome to lucha libre –
the sport for men making heroes of women.
The Guardian. Retrieved from http://www.theguardian.com/world/2008/aug/30/bolivia.gender
Courtney
Szto is a PhD student in the School of Communication at Simon
Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada.
Her doctoral research focuses on issues of citizenship, ethnicity, and
immigration as they manifest in ice hockey.
She writes for Hockey in Society, Interrupt Magazine, and her own blog, The Rabbit Hole. Courtney also runs Offside Plays, a social
media campaign working to expose everyday racism, sexism, homophobia, and other
forms of discrimination that take place in sport and physical activity
(@offsideplays).
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