A Special Actividad

A few entries ago I wrote about the actividades people in Villa el Salvador and other pueblos jóvenes hold to raise funds for various needs. Today I had the honor (a Passover mitzvah of sorts?) of participating in a very unique and special actividad, in the form of a soccer tournament!

In short, the family, who needed quite a large sum of money to help one of its members with a health issue, organized an entire soccer tournament! They rented a local soccer pitch (stone walls surrounding a sandy, dusty playing area with two goals at either end - see the pictures), hired referees and invited families (neighbors and friends) to enter in the tournament for a small fee. Families in this case means entire clans! Fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, nephews and cousins, and cousins and nephews of cousins and nephews. The families came together from far and wide to play in the tournament and it was a special occasion for everyone.

A few of the families also sported (pun intended) women's teams, and Anita (my research assistant) and I were invited to join the host family's team. It was loads of fun, and knowing we were supporting a good cause in the process made the whole experience all the more special.

In addition to the soccer matches the host family also sold food and drinks, as is customary in regular actividades, and had also hired a few local music groups for entertainment.

Click here to see photos of our team in action!

(ah, we did win, by the way, although that really didn't matter so much in the larger scheme of things!)

research

While my time in Peru has thus far been filled an amazing array of new sights, sounds, culinary wonders, impressions and a multitude of cultural and personal exchanges and interactions, the ‘true' purpose of my visit is the research I am here to do for my Master's in Children's Rights (social sciences) at the University of Amsterdam, Holland.

My research, very basically, consists of fieldwork in the shantytown of Villa el Salvador (near Lima, Peru) and focuses on the socialization and future dreams and aspirations of young girls (5th and 6th grade of primary school) living in conditions of socioeconomic disadvantage.

The research methods include interviews with community members, people who work with youth and children in various capacities, municipal workers, parents and of course children and youth. These interviews are all mainly for background information. The bulk of the research consists of weekly workshops - interactive and participatory in nature - in two local schools, with 5th and 6th grade girls. The workshops have a dual purpose: to help me answer my research questions (about socialization and child agency therein) and to help the girls begin to think about their futures a bit, about their dreams, their aspirations, etc.

These are some photos from the workshops: click here for photos.

Ingenuity born of Circumstance?

1. Actividades:

Being poor is bad enough. Having to ask friends, who themselves also have so little and have it so hard, for help can be just plain embarrassing. But not the Villa-el-Salvadorian way!

In Villa when a family is low on funds and needs crutches for a son with a broken leg, money for a daughter's education or even just cash for basic necessities (food! and to pay the bills!), they hold what is called an actividad. Rather than beg for money or merely ask people for one-sided help, the family cooks a big meal - usually chicken - and sells the food to their friends and neighbors for a small profit. Later in the evening the family also holds a low-key party at which guests buy the food and drink they consume, again with a small profit for the family. This way the family can invite their friends and loved ones to help them out in their time of need without loosing their dignity, and friends can help out without embarrassing the family. It is a fair exchange of goods and services. When you are told about an actividad, or invited by a family member, you don't think twice. Everyone stops by to buy some food or have a drink with the family.

2. Cobradores:

Villa has 400,000 inhabitants, all poor, all in need of jobs... many work as maids, cashiers and other such jobs in the city, others as street vendors or moto-taxi drivers in Villa. But some have found a creative source of income:

One of the principle modes of transportation in Villa, aside from the moto-taxis, are the combis - mini-buses that shuttle people back and forth along fixed routes from Villa or the outlying districts and to the city. Don't have a job? Get a clipboard, a pen and stopwatch, and take up post along one of the combi routes. Time how long between the combis who pass you and charge the drivers a fee for that information! You get an income and the combi drivers get information that can help them maneuver their route better and to know if there will be many passengers along the way or not. Creative, no? Some drivers have deals with certain of these cobradores (cobrar = to charge money). Only problem is that Villa is now filled with these cobradores, with anywhere form 1 to 5 on every street corner and sometimes between the corners too!

An Anthropological Adventure…

As many of you have already heard, the local cuisine and an accidental dose of tap water* finally caught up with me, and I had a unique opportunity to do some ‘participatory research' into the conditions of the local health clinics!

I will spare you all the details, but suffice it to say that it all started when I woke up on Monday morning throwing up uncontrollably, and all the other ill effects of a terribly upset stomach... This continued non-stop for nearly two hours, during which my local guide and host Churro called the doc who said to come to the clinic right away... My relief over the prospect of getting medical attention quickly waned once we got to the clinic, however...

The local clinic is in every way reminiscent of the worst kind of third-world health facility that you can imagine. The building is dilapidated and half in ruins (or more likely only half built up...), with the hours and days of different specialists (who only come once a week) painted in rough letters on the outside walls. The floors were filthy, the benches in the ‘waiting room' mostly broken. Mothers with young toddlers sat fanning themselves with pieces of paper and cockroaches scurried across the floor. The only toilet there had no seat, no back and was cracked so that the water was leaking out onto the floor. It didn't flush. There was a bucket under faucet in lieu of a piece of pipe that was missing a chunk. The door was hanging on only one hinge and didn't close. It was truly horrifying and despite being beyond dizzy, unfathomably nauseous and in a cold sweat, I did think to myself that, anthropologically speaking, I ought to be taking some field notes!

The local doc was very kind, as was the ‘nurse' - despite the fact that her pointy high heels, too-tight, low cut jeans, tight yellow top that none of us would let a teenage daughter out of the house in, and bright red fingernails didn't inspire much confidence. I was given the VIP treatment, being a foreign student and all, and was put in a separate 'room', behind a section of wall. It was very hot. No fan. No windows.

After inspecting me the doctor sent Churro to go get my medication from a nearby pharmacy. This is the way it works: you come in, get inspected, and then a family member or friend has to go buy whatever you need and bring it back to the clinic. Everything from pills to injections needs to be bought by you as you need it. There are no actual medical supplies at the clinic. The injections are sold in small dark brown glass bottles, void of any kind of label or other marking, and are filled by the pharmacist when he fills your order. (I guess you can only hope the pharmacists is trustworthy and isn't filling the vile with who-knows-what). The vile comes with a needle and syringe, individually wrapped like in a hospital. Pills are sold individually, without the box or the instructions. For people who are poor, paying only for exactly how many pills you need does seem to make sense, although not having the warnings and dosage information can be a problem.

If you can't pay for what you need, then you're out of luck. While your family members and friends round up the money to buy your treatments, you lie there and wait. In the heat. With no windows. Horrifyingly dizzy, unfathomably nauseous, in a shivering cold sweat. Throwing up and needing desperately to use the toilet, which is, of course, not an option. Are we having fun yet?

After a few hours in the local clinic and without any kind of improvement in my condition, I began to worry seriously about losing consciousness and had Churro call my study-mate Anna, who was truly amazing and jumped in a taxi straight away. You can only imagine my relief at seeing a fellow ‘westerner' there! Together with Anna we decided it was better to transplant myself to a clinic in the city, and upon the advice of a good friend (another fellow westerner) we took a taxi to the emergency clinic at a hospital in the affluent Liman district of San Isidrio.

The contrast was beyond striking, highlighted immediately by the young girl sitting next to us in the waiting room - pristinely dressed in a white Nike tennis outfit (complete with a little white tennis skirt, white sneakers, and white socks with pompoms on the back) and sporting a perfect pony tail, a dainty silver arm bracelet, braces and a swatch watch, she was for me at that moment the epitome of the vast gap between the two worlds I was experiencing that day. Needless to say, the clinic in San Isidrio was spotless, sterile, air conditioned and efficient. I was treated there with an infusion and given ‘real' medication.

Incidentally, had someone from Villa el Salvador come to the San Isidrio facility, I am not entirely sure they would have been received so well...

I do apologize for the length of this saga, but somehow I felt it deserved a bit more attention.

All the best,

ammanjah. xx.

* One of the girls in the theater group had 'borrowed' my bottle of mineral water out of the refrigerator and very kindly filled it back up for me... with tap water! Of course, I didn't hear about this until I was enthusiastically gulping it down after a hot excursion outside... 'Oh, that's your bottle - I hope you don't mind, but I drank it yesterday and filled it back up for you :)'... uhh.. ohhh... :(

Barranco de Noche

When you come from Villa el Salvador to Barranco your first thought is 'I ain't in Kansas no more!'

Barranco is a richer, bohemian neighborhood of Lima, with a hip and vibrant night life of pubs, cafes and discos, along with artisan fairs, posh restaurants and people of all ages strolling around. Barranco used to be a fashionable beach resort for the old Liman aristocracy, as our hosts explained.

As I noted, coming from the dust and poverty of Villa, it was definitely reverse culture-shock to be in such a well-kept, clean, modern place, with its statues and fountains and paved streets. It did take me a few moments to get back into the swing of 'normal' life! Once re-adjusted, however, I enjoyed the evening tremendously!

(see the photos of Barranco!)

Cumpleaños!

Thursday evening I was invited to a 'fiesta infantil' - or children's birthday party here in Villa el Salvador.

1. Having an aunt who is a member of a theater group is pretty cool for your birthday parties - all of her clown and juggling friends come perform! ?

2. It may be Peru, it may be Villa, but it's still a children's birthday party! (and the mother still gets to run around serving drinks, wiping up spills, making sure everything is in order...)

3. Wow! These little kids can really dance!

4. Less than a week here, and already everyone has opened their doors and their hearts to me. Peruvians, at least here in Villa, are even warmer than I had been told.

(see 'Cumpleaños' photos for more).

Maria Elena Moyano and Arena y Esteras

Arenas y Esteras was founded by immigrants from the Andes in reaction to the brutal murder in 1992 of Maria Elena Moyano, a community organizer and activist who was assassinated by the Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) insurgent movement. Although only one of many atrocities committed during the most violent period of Peru's modern history, her death resulted in a public outcry and she has become and icon and symbol of community activism and hope (see Maria Elena and Villa photos on this blog and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Elena_Moyano for more information). The founders of 'Arenas' wanted to honor her memory by finding a non-violent, community-oriented from of protest. They found it through theater, dance, music and performances.

Arena means sand, and refers to the sand dunes upon which Villa is built. Esteras are the grass mats which Villa's original inhabitants used to make their houses from (see Maria Elena and Villa photos).

Today Arena y Esteras aims to 'create socially and ethically conscious art for the promotion of identity and human rights, and to build a community where everyone can live with dignity, respect, and have social responsibility.' They provide free workshops, put on circus, theater and dance performances all over the neighborhood, throughout Peru and also every year on tour in Europe. The group works closely with the schools, providing theater classes to the districts school children at school.

I live in the house across the street from the theater. It is an absolutely wonderful experience! To only have to cross the street to enter an oasis of creativity, dance, music and theater! There is always something going on. A dance workshop, someone rehearsing a scene or having a private circus lesson. This week two instructors from Chile are giving free contemporary dance lessons and children and youth from around the neighborhood have been attending. See the 'Tree, Rembrandt Painting, Lion' photos! I can honestly say that I am experiencing more cultural and artistic creativity here in a day than in a whole month at home!

a. xx.

Sector, Group, Manzana

Villa el Salvador is known for its urban planning and organization. It has won numerous international prizes and was even nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize! This is how it works:

The 'town planning', taken on by the inhabitants themselves, who build their own houses and streets, consists of a design in which each familiy lives on a lot (or lote), which are all about the same size. 24 lotes form a manzana, which is organized in a rectangle of 7X5 lotes. 16 manzanas form a grupo and 25 grupos make up a sector. Everything is laid out in a neat grid and evenly spaced.

This makes addresses very easy and systematic to follow. I am, for example living at Casa Arena y Esteras. The address is:

Sector 3, Grupo 24, Manzana D, lote 10.

In addtion,certain areas in each grupo are reserved for schools, markets, recreation centres, a health center and about a thousand hectares for agricultural and industrial use. Villa also has its own police station, fire department and hospital. There was space planned and saved for a university, but some people 'invaded' that land about three years ago, and as it was an election year the municipality did not evict them.

When you look at Villa from a hilltop in the neighboring districts,you can see how neatly it is laid out in a perfect grid. Even the newer sections (Villa continues to expand all the time) follow this system. It really is very impressive