The effort to de-mine Central America is truly an international one, with assistance coming from the U.S., Germany, Spain, France, England, Japan, Canada and Sweden (who’s ambassador is featured here, speaking eloquent Spanish). Also we hear from soldiers on the pleasure of serving a mission of peace, as opposed to one of war.

Mauro thought he’d seen the last of Juan when he fired him from the record store, only to find the boy raiding his kitchen fridge! Mauro attempts to throw him out but his mom intervenes. It turns out that Mauro’s sister Teresa has convinced her mother to pay Juan to teach her to play the piano. Mauro is not amused.

Elena is absolutely certain she will not be calling Mariano, her estranged, cheating boyfriend. She professes this fact repeatedly. But when Vero drops by, still tipsy from the club, discussion of lonely reality has its effect. She breaks down and picks up the phone…

When a strange man insists he is Natalia’s true father, she is oddly sympathetic, “we all know about el proceso.” But do we? The “process” is shorthand for the era of military dictatorships that engulfed the Southern Cone in the mid 70’s. During this era, untold numbers of infants of suspected “subversives” were kidnapped, often taken by police or military members to raise as their own.

Why is it that some musicians have such synergy together? Belanova describes the fusión that is created when each distinct musical personality comes together, and how this unique “fusion” has brought them from after-class practice to stadium-filled tours.

Joan Planas continues to pull no punches, taking on NGOs, television, and the Catholic church. Oddly enough, despite his firebrand rhetoric, the film ends on a rather conservative note, suggesting that perhaps what poor nations need is not so much charity but rather a change in actitude, or “attitude,” so as to reflect the mindset of people in successful nations. Tune in to find out the details.

Not only does our filmmaker continue with his diatribe against the state of society as he finds it in Nicaragua, but the story takes an investigative turn. We find that not only doesn’t sponsored-child Christina del Carmen match the photo that had been supplied by Ayuda en Acción, she is also not yet enrolled in a school.

Bienvenido al sueño is the first solo effort by the artist formerly known as Rubén Albarrán—of Café Tacuba / Café Tacvba fame. (‘Tacuba’ became ‘Tacvba’ after a lawsuit, according to this Wikipedia entry.) Check out Sizu’s wild video to the album’s title track. Nice hats, no?

Not only did poor Manuel Rosales lose the election for president, but winner Hugo Chavez’ supporters are trying to knock him out of his post as governor of Zulia. In a faux futuristic recounting of a would be history, this wildly hopeful presidential campaign ad (disguised as a movie trailer) not only dared Venezuelans to vote for change, but dared to sell a bearskin before actually catching the bear.

In this installment of the dispute documentary we hear Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata quoted over a protester’s loudspeaker. As Zapata said: “¡Victoria o muerte!” (“Victory or death!”). To protest the taking of their farmland, the people of Atenco are using stronger and stronger language. Listen in.

You know what a calavera is, no? If you see one, especially on a sign in a former war zone, be very, very careful. Soldiers from Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela and the U.S. came together to reduce the need for these signs in Central America… reclaiming fields filled with anti-personnel mines so that farmers can return to using them for crops.

Ibiza is a wonderful holiday destination any day, but the summer solstice presents an opportunity to partake in an ancient tradition and celebrate all night long. Let’s join Tatiana for a cruise on a beautiful velero to visit some secret swimming spots and then we’ll head into town for la noche de San Juan.

Imagine the horror of stepping on a landmine while gardening. This is what happened to farmers José Moncada and Reinaldo Herrera. Through great courage they survive to testify of the enduring evils that are minas antipersonales.

Spain has never been a country afraid of divisive politics, and filmmaker Joan Planas has no fear of getting controversial when presenting his views of society, church and state. Note that the older gentleman is not speaking straight Spanish but Catalan, and the Spanish captions reflect not his exact words but are the same as the Spanish subtitles seen in white on the screen.

When something is distasteful, it’s common to hear qué asco (how disgusting) This is precisely what Marley proclaims as Sebastián chooses a particularly fea cockroach to munch on. Sebastián didn’t in fact, tragar, or swallow, the roach, and we think Marley let him off easy!