Betty looked out the window and shivered a little. You couldn't see the unrest, but you could hear it. Car-horns repeatedly and persistently honked, as they rode down the swooping street outside her Quito apartment. This had been going on all day. The night before, we had all heard the muted jangle of cacerolazos - pot-banging, a uniquely Latin American form of protest. It had spread from barrio to barrio, all over the city, the people standing by their windows and rhythmically smashing pot-lids together.

My lover and I, and our friend Barbara, were at Betty's house to play mah-jongg. As the tiles clicked and clacked that afternoon, the din outside continued. Night fell, we added up the points, and Barbara gave us a ride to our apartment. It seemed to have quieted down. Turning on the news, we found that the people had won their first point. The Supreme Court, fraudulently installed by the president Lucio Gutiérrez, had been dissolved.

So perhaps that was that, I thought. The protests had been going on for a few days. The anger had been simmering since Gutiérrez dissolved the existing Supreme Court in December. But when he installed one composed of his own cronies, it rose a notch. And when the new Supreme Court pardoned Abdala Bucaram, considered one of the most corrupt presidents ever, it rose again. When Abdala Bucaram (called "El Loco") actually came back from exile, the papers noted that the money that disappeared during his administration was still nowhere to be seen.

That's when the word "dictator" started to be bandied about, and the people took to the streets.

It wasn't over that Saturday night. The people stayed restive, calling for the resignation of Gutiérrez. We heard that Gutiérrez had hired busloads of pro-administration folks from the country, to counter-demonstrate. This probably wasn't the cleverist thing he could have done.

On Wednesday morning, I walked up to the corner to get my newspaper, and saw that the protest had extended to the bottom of Gaspar de Villarroel, the main drag near my apartment. I walked down the hill, past all the gawking shop-keepers, and then stood and watched. There were buses and cars blocking the traffic circle, and flags waving. People milled around for a while, and then suddenly started marching purposefully up the street. Every passing car honked in solidarity.

I saw it and wondered, "Why doesn't this sort of thing work in the States?"

By that night, Gutiérrez had fallen. The people still didn't want to go home. They were calling for the resignation of the entire congress, and for all their bank accounts to be frozen. But it began to rain, and the crowds thinned. Alfredo Palacio, the former vice-president, was the new president. He told everybody the dictatorship was over, and promised to pay more attention to social problems than to paying down the international debt. Everybody finally went home.

A couple of days later, Palacio sounded a lot less radical. He was making positive noises about the FTA. About that time, the US got over its hesitation about him and supported him as the new president. I always wonder when things like this happen simultaneously. What did they threaten him with? What happened to his principles?

I guess it's only the people in the street who can afford principles.

It was the solar eclipse in Aries that brought down Lucio Gutiérrez' star. At almost the same time, another star rose. We saw lots of hype on TV while they were choosing the new pope. Countless Spanish-speaking people were interviewed, and said that it would be very cool if the new pope was a compatriot. But when the dust settled, the new pontiff was about as old-school as you could get. His ideas, rusty link upon rusty link, are part of an unbroken chain since the Inquisition.

The solar eclipse occurred in Aries, and both Lucio and Pope Benny were born with Aries suns. In the Pope's chart, Pluto, the planet of power, has reached the midheaven. I don't have the time of Gutiérrez' birth, but I'm guessing it's probably the opposite there. (Giving him a Virgo ascendent seems to fit.)

It's interesting, too, what caused this enormous change of fortune for both these people. For the Pope, it was a group of privileged beings speaking quietly in a closed room. For Lucio, it was a group of ordinary people making a lot of noise in the streets.

And so all you really have to do is get together with other people, in order to have an impact. If you wear red robes and funny little berets, you have one kind of impact. But if you happen to be missing your dress-up clothes, you can still make change. When, in the course of human events… well, you know how the rest of that goes.

Of course, it's easier in Ecuador, where the institutions are still a bit tentative, than it would be in the States. Would the people in the US be able to oust a dictator? What about a president who lies to them and breaks the law - about something more important than his sex life?

In May, there's still quite a lot of revolutionary energy, since Mars and Uranus will be together most of the month. Mars is the planet of action, and Uranus the planet of change. About a week before the Declaration of Independence was written, these two were conjunct. They were conjunct in Russia, in January of 1917, when hundreds of thousands of people were striking to demand the overthrow of the Tsar. They were also conjunct in Cuba, in July of 1953, when a young Fidel Castro and other activists attacked the Moncada Barracks.

But in May, it's true, they're conjunct in the gentle, spiritual sign Pisces. This doesn't preclude taking to the streets, but it also lends itself to spiritual and cultural activism. There are many ways to breathe freedom out into the air.

And change can happen, believe me. I saw it happen, just last week.

Index of Jenny Yates' Writings on Lesbian.com