Carlos Eduardo López Ávila, known to most of the world as Jeremías, (his nombre escénico) was born in London, where his parents were studying, but he returned with them to their native Venezuela at the tender age of two. Billboard describes his music, with its blend of trova, pop, salsa and rock as mestizo (which of course usually refers to a person of mixed blood).

People often say that Símon Bolívar, aka El Libertador, is to the people of Venezuela what George Washington is to the people of the United States. This is not entirely inaccurate, but this 19th century general and native son of Caracas retains a rock star / savior status that might equally be compared with Bob Marley’s place in the hearts of Jamaicans (and tender souled frat boys).

Joselo Rangel is a native of Minatitlan, Puerto de Veracruz. He went to university, however, in Mexico City, at UAM (Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana). It was there that he teamed up with Ruben Albarran to create the legendary Café Tacuba. “Sobriedad” is from his recent solo effort, Lejos.

Born Juan Esteban Aristizabal in Medellin, Colombia, Juanes may become the first musician to “crossover” (winning fame in the English speaking world) without ever bothering to release an album, nay, even a song, in English! A Dios le pido, “I ask God,” has been on the top of the charts in 12 countries on three continents, and spent 47 weeks in Billboard’s Latin Tracks chart.

Evo Morales was a Bolivian congressman at the time of filming in 2004. At the time he was best known as an advocate and unofficial representative of traditional coca farmers, who are, for the most part, poor and marginalized. Today this indigenous politician and one-time farmer himself is best known for being president of Bolivia.

María “La Mala” Rodríquez’ latest effort has taken Spain by storm. The record, says María, is called Alevosía because “Lo he hecho a tiro hecho, sobre seguro y no hay fallos. Lo he hecho queriendo.” YaTv.com calls her “the most courageous voice” of Spanish rap today.

Los Tetas got together in their native Chile in 1994, where they honed a unique blend of funk, hip hop, and soul, and since then have bopped around the Americas, living in New York and Mexico. This track features a good natured appearance by fellow Chilean Germaín de la Fuente, whose romantic crooning has been swooning latin lovers since the early 70’s.

Molotov brings us another inspired video that doubles as a lesson in modern Mexico: PAN, PRI, PRD, and el bono sexenal! By the way, do you know why Rudy Giuliani’s image appears so often in Molotov videos?

The stupendous Natalia Oreiro released the fiery single “Me Muero De Amor” even before it became the theme song for Muñeca Brava, in which she also stars. The show was a smash hit not only in Latin America but also in Europe and the Middle East, and as such buoyed worldwide sales of the record.

The house is called “La Soledad”, which might be fitting enough for some of the souls who dwell within it. Grandma hasn’t left her room in years, nor is she on the best of terms with her son, the patriarch of the house. He, in turn, is no longer exactly enamored with his wife, nor sympathetic to her weakness for the bottle. The fun is just beginning…

Federico’s secretary invites him over for dinner, but there will be no berries and cream if she can’t be the master chef. Meanwhile… our delinquent little minas have escaped the confines of the convent orphanage.

Tío, there is something creepy going on upstairs in that big house! Anyway, the real action is at the dance hall, and that’s where we find our truant heroine, Milagros, and her willing accomplice, Gloria.

In the previous segment we found Milagros and Gloria shaking it to un ritmo vallenato from Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Upon her return to the convent, Milagros is singing Ricky Maravilla’s "¿Que tendrá el petiso?" which probably got its inspiration from "Locas por el mambo", a huge 1950 Havana hit from the great Benny Moré.

It seems the brother-in-law is having an affair with the cook’s daughter, who is trying to get him to help her out of her maid’s uniform, and not only during the wee hours of the morning. But it doesn’t seem like el patrón is in the mood to be doing any favors for his wife’s brother, does it now?

Take it from the boys in Skampida, the best ways to learn a language are 1) to watch a lot of tv (yabla!) and 2) to find yourself a native girlfriend/boyfriend! Skampida is one of the best bands ever from Bogotá, and we caught up with them while they were spending some time hangeando in The Big Manzana.