Whilst it wasn't the vanity of a Narcissus that left me in my ankle socks and drab uniform peering into the pond, it was a vanity of sorts. My vanity was in fooling myself that I was all big and grown up now - even though, through taking part in the ceremony alone, my increase in understanding was no deeper than the shallow foil-backed glass in front of me.

Water is part of many initiations – my Brownie pond; the Christian baptism font; bathing in the Ganges. How appropriate for Bolivians then that their first wholesale opposition to the privatisation of a public utility should be their unequivocal rejection of a water consortium – a group of companies that attempted to transform something that should be a right into something to be sold.

In 1999 Aguas del Tunari, with Bechtel as the leading corporation, bought up the water system in Bolivia, sending prices sky high and confiscating all the water networks. I find it really hard to understand the motivation behind such corporate arrogance. What would the people behind the price hikes fool themselves that they saw if they were peering into my Brownie pond? A concern to 'advance' Bolivian peoples' involvement in the global economy? The more flattering interpretation of their motives is that the silver veneer conferred on the term 'economic transaction' reflects an illusion of generosity. Of not necessarily principled, but at least an attempt at pragmatic, human kindness. Bringing jobs and prosperity. But this is not to see things as they are. This pond/mirror is not made of the milk of human kindness. Its reality is ice-cold, as sharp as the finest diamond, as tough as the Titanic iceberg: these multinationals have their mist-shrouded course charted by no more than the vanity of their greed, by their self-aggrandisement and resulting inability to see things for real.

The people of Cochabamba, Bolivia's third largest city, shattered the mirror, sending Aguas del Tunari packing from the country with their self-image shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. This came with a price. The seven years' bad luck of folklore came to Bolivia in the form of the compensation now demanded by the water consortium for the 'broken' contract.

Why does Aguas del Tunari attempt to continue to bleed Bolivia dry? Of course there are technical answers to this question, of course they will talk of needing to resolve their accounting sheets but, in human terms, what does this mean? When, as happened to Snow White's Queen, will the mirror stop telling them lies? This Spring no-one paid any water bills for two months and, in a later consultation in the Cochabamba area, 98% of the fifty thousand who participated voted to kick the consortium out. Massive demonstrations took place on the streets with five people shot dead during the protests. If this does not flash their own grotesque reality back at the water consortium, then what will?

Maybe it is difficult to blame someone who has a false image of themselves – many of those whose work props up the water multinationals on a daily basis maybe don't see beyond the false image. However, without a doubt there are those operating within this system who are clearly aware of the consequences of their actions, who will see a different face reflected in the shadows over their shoulder but will choose to continue anyway. The publishers of the Bolivian newspaper 'Gente' (People) were on the receiving end of this: they admitted to threats of financial ruin by the water system's Bolivian partners after the paper ran an investigative series exposing deals between US-European investors and politically connected Bolivians. Disgusted? Still, don't just sit back and hold on to what you see as yourself. This isn't only about those arm-twisting corporate execs refusing to see things as they are. We have to stop kidding ourselves that change will only come if others smash their illusions – what of our own?

The challenge within this is to be able to stand in front of the mirror and to breathe. To breathe hard. To breathe for the dead in Cochabamba and to cloud the spectacle before you. To then wipe it clear and see beyond aspirations, to open our eyes and confront what stares us in the face.