What I saw in La Oroya made my head hurt even more: It is one of the most polluted cities in the world, primarily due to a metal smelting facility operating there since 1922.
I met with a range of people from the community who described the public health crisis. Lead pollution particularly was affecting virtually all the children living near the plant, most of whom had very high levels of it in their blood. My altitude headache was nothing compared to that.
Since then the owner of the plant, a company called Doe Run Peru (part of an American company called Renco Group), shut down the plant and has been trying to renegotiate the environmental clean-up commitments it made when it bought the plant in 1997. We are hearing that the government of Peru is allowing another company to operate the parts of the facility that they say can comply with environmental regulations. The groups working to defend the rights of people in La Oroya to live in a safe environment are hoping that whoever runs this plant will comply with all the environmental standards if and when it becomes fully operational again.
My colleagues and I have been working to find ways for the people of La Oroya to get their message out to people in power, so they can defend their right to live in a clean environment. On July 19th, they had a major success here in the US: a hearing before the House Subcommittee on Africa, Global Health, and Human Rights.
Representative Chris Smith (R-NJ) organized the hearing. “Environmental damage in Peru is our concern, not just because we care about suffering people outside our borders – we absolutely do,” he said in his opening remarks. “But it is also our responsibility to make sure that our own companies aren’t at fault.”
Two people from La Oroya gave their testimony: Monsignor Pedro Barreto, the Archbishop of Huancayo, cited the environmental problems and raised the larger question about the purpose of economic development: “The Church is not opposed to mining or development, but it does ask the question: Development for whom? Mining for the benefit of whom? At what cost?”
Rosa Amaro also testified. She works with the Movement for Health in La Oroya (known as MOSAO), and has been threatened on numerous occasions for speaking out in favor of a cleaner environment. “Supporters of Doe Run have thrown stones at me, threatened to burn down my house, and threatened my life…When they see us in the street they shout ‘Death to MOSAO.’ We have no protection from these threats.” Her security concerns did not prevent her from traveling to Washington to testify.
To detail the toxic life people in La Oroya are leading, Dr. Fernando Serrano from the University of St. Louis delivered findings from studies that show people are living with pollution levels of the most toxic metals three to six times higher than the US average.
Keith Slack from Oxfam’s office in Washington, who has written extensively on mining-related conflicts in Peru, made recommendations for Peru’s government to improve respect for basic human rights and strengthen environmental standards. He urged the US government to support Peru’s defense of an $800 million lawsuit brought against it by Renco Group. “[The]US government should encourage all American companies operating in Peru and elsewhere in the region to ensure that they are following the highest possible human rights and environmental standards,” he concluded. “Their behavior is a reflection on the US as a whole.”
]]>Many of these plants have been cultivated by Kichwa people for generations, but are in danger of disappearing as growers turn to cash crops like coffee or cacao instead. This shift to a single crop can leave farmers more vulnerable unpredictable rainfall caused by climate change, and more dependent on purchasing food from outside rather than growing it themselves—putting them at risk of hunger.
“Food prices are increasing. Sometimes we don’t have money for bread,” said Luz Sinarahua, who leads the group of women growers in Chirikyacu. “That’s why we’re glad to have the beans, yucca, and plantains from the garden.”
See a photo slideshow of the women and their gardens
Oxfam program officer Lorena Del Carpio said the ancestral Kichwa methods of harvesting and planting year-round can help people adapt to changes in the climate. “Indigenous people have important knowledge about how to work with the environment,” said Del Carpio. “[Their traditional way of] growing diverse crops helps ensure food for their families.”
The idea for the gardens came from listening to Kichwa women, who first raised concerns about the loss of their crops in an AIDESEP workshop designed to build women’s leadership and advocacy skills. These efforts are part of a larger Oxfam program that helps indigenous people in South America protect their cultural, political, and territorial rights.
In the future, “we want to make sure we have enough for food, [but] our main goal is to sell crops so we can increase our incomes,” said Sinarahua of the women’s plans. AIDESEP aims to organize a sellers’ fair where growers from these remote towns can exchange seeds and connect with potential buyers. And, eventually, they hope to expand the project to other communities.
To learn more about the traditional gardens and the women who grow them, see the article in OXFAMExchange magazine.
]]>Sofia Vergara, community organizer for Oxfam’s Right to Know, Right to Decide campaign, has worked with the people of La Oroya since 2005. Below, Vergara explains the new developments and what lies ahead.
What happened last week, and why is it important?
The Doe Run Peru smelter in La Oroya has not operated since 2009, when the company began a bankruptcy process, saying that it lacked the funds to run the smelter. Doe Run Peru recently proposed a restructuring plan that would allow it to begin operations again, but without first taking the steps to clean up the environment that are required by law in Peru.
Last week, Doe Run Peru’s creditors, including the Peruvian government, voted to reject the company’s plan. By doing so, the government showed that it is willing to stand up to the company in defense of the people of La Oroya. This is a very positive step.
How will this affect families in La Oroya?
Without emissions from the smelter, people are breathing cleaner air. You can tell just by looking at pictures: there are blue skies now, and plants growing that weren’t there before. The children are not facing day-to-day exposure to contamination. A recent government study found that children’s blood lead levels have decreased compared to 2005 [when a study found that 97 percent of the children in the town under age 6 had elevated blood lead levels]. Most people in La Oroya want the smelter to reopen, but with adequate environmental controls installed first.
What happens next?
There are a lot of unanswered questions. The company has entered into what’s called “liquidation in progress,” which means that the smelter will not operate, but 3,500 workers can keep their jobs. Another entity will manage the liquidation for the next six months, but we don’t know who. The government and the creditors’ board have until May 25 to decide. That decision will play a big part in determining La Oroya's future.
For now, we need to make sure of two things. First, that the government’s process is clear and transparent. For example, Doe Run has a plan to build a sulfuric acid plant in La Oroya—a critical step for reducing toxic emissions. Residents want to know if that will still happen, and if Doe Run Peru will meet environmental requirements before reopening. Second, the government’s decision will have to take the environmental and health issues, as well as the workers’ rights, into account.
What about this ongoing conflict between workers and activists in La Oroya? With violent protests around mining now making news in other parts of Peru, how can we prevent violence from happening there?
In a recent statement issued by a coalition of Oxfam’s partners in La Oroya, they “call for all actors to prioritize dialogue and avoid any kind of confrontation, or acts of violence.” The government plays a key role in communicating with the population, making sure people know what will happen and how they will be protected. The company also has a responsibility to negotiate with the government in good faith, and to not put pressure on workers to create violence in the city.
In general, I think people in La Oroya have access to more information than they did in the past, which will help them understand this complex situation. Many have been put in a difficult position because they have to defend the source of their livelihood, and on the other hand they face the issue of contamination of themselves and their families.
What are Oxfam and its partners doing to support citizens’ efforts?
Local grassroots leaders like Rosa Amaro and Esther Hinostrosa have played a key role in defending the environment and human rights in La Oroya, as have representatives of the church. All of these groups have kept up their courage even in the face of pressure, violence, and threats.
Through its partners and allies in the area, Oxfam helps strengthen these local groups and makes sure they have access to information they need. We’ve also supported them as they raise awareness about the case in the US and Peru. That’s something Amaro told me herself: even though her life has been threatened, it’s important to communicate about this case as much as we can. That’s how we will bring about real change.
How have people in the US contributed?
A lot of people are taking action—people of faith, students, others. They feel a strong sense of solidarity with the families of La Oroya, and they are also concerned because Doe Run Peru is a US-owned company. Peruvian and Latin American communities in the US have also been very active on this case.
So far, more than 35,000 supporters have signed an online petition asking US Congress to support the people of Peru in the trade lawsuit [Doe Run Peru is suing the Peruvian government for allegedly violating the terms of the US-Peru Free Trade Agreement]. Thanks to efforts like this, 18 members of US Congress recently sent a letter asking the US Treasury and State Departments not to support the company.
What can people do to help now?
Follow our partners' coalition, La Oroya por un Cambio, on Twitter and like La Oroya por un Cambio on Facebook to get updates. Share the information with others. And tell Congress to stand with the people of Peru on the trade case, which is still going on.
Celia Candiotti works as a security guard at the main municipal office of Huamanga, the capital of Ayacucho province in Peru. She’s tall and thin, and has a narrow face and severe eyes. She’s pleasant, but professional, as you would expect from a uniformed officer who commands respect.
Several years ago she was at work when she saw a 12-foot-high wall of water, mud, boulders, and cars flooding down one of the main streets in the city.
Cadiotti ran straight into the maelstrom to rescue people.
“You can’t fight your destiny,” Candiotti says, citing her training as a nurse and a firefighter. “I didn’t even think, I just responded -- I waded right in.” She rescued several injured people before she found a young girl, perhaps seven years old, trapped in a car. “She said to me, ‘I’m gonna die.’ I said ‘no’. But the water was coming in the window fast.”
That day the landslide killed about a dozen people, but thanks to Candiotti, that one young girl survived. The Ministry of Women gave Candiotti an award for heroism.
Candiotti noticed something then: people lined the street, horrified by the disaster, but did not help. She remembered this later when she went to a training session for the staff at the municipal office. The topic was how to understand and reduce racism and discrimination at their work, so they could ensure equal access to the services citizens need from the local government.
When it came to the pervasive racism in Ayacucho, Candiotti was much like the bystanders she saw on the street that day: concerned, but not sure what to do.
The training session was organized by APRODEH, a human rights group Oxfam has been funding to work on ways to reduce racism and discrimination in Peru. The organization led efforts to help local governments pass new laws – ordinances – that require equal access to services, equal treatment by officials, for everyone, whatever their gender or ethnicity, whatever language they speak, however they dress, and whatever their age or appearance.
Addressing the racism and discrimination directed toward indigenous people, women, and handicapped people is an important component of Oxfam’s work to reduce barriers that keep people in poverty. And training for municipal workers, who play an essential role in helping citizens gain access to crucial services from local government, is one way APRODEH and Oxfam are working to changing the way people think about each other—and themselves--in Ayacucho.
For Candiotti, a woman who grew up on the coast in a family of Italian immigrants, understanding and confronting the racism and discrimination she could see in Ayacucho since she moved here eight years ago is a tremendous blessing. She says APRODEH’s training helped her and others understand that all people have basic rights. “People from the highlands are not any less than me, and we all have to learn to relate to each other. I could see the changes in the staff here,” she says, standing in her uniform near the front of the municipal hall. “We left the training calm and happy, a joy has taken over us.”
Now, Candiotti says the staff of the municipality behaves completely differently. Whereas before the indigenous staff would be reluctant to even speak Quechua, the local indigenous language, they are now happy to help indigenous people who come to the office no matter what language they can speak. “When people come and inquire in Quechua,” she says, “we all speak Quechua now, our attitude has really changed. We used to make fun of an elderly señora dressed in traditional clothes, but not anymore.”
When she’s at work, Candiotti wears a uniform slightly too large for her slim, athletic frame, with a cap pulled low over her forehead. She’s got a serious look about her, but when she describes the changes in the staff attitudes her eyes get a little wet.
Near the front entrance, she meets with some indigenous, Quechua speaking women under an arch leading in to the massive, Spanish colonial courtyard. Her warmth comes through as she answers questions, gives direction, and laughs at a joke.
Candiotti acknowledges that perhaps some destinies can change: “There’s always been discrimination,” she says near her post at the front entrance. “But little by little, this is changing.”
]]>There’s a poster in the office of APRODEH in Ayacucho that depicts a group of highland indigenous people riding on a bus. Each passenger is regarding the others with suspicion: “I don’t like the look of that one,” one is thinking. Another thought bubble over the head of a fellow passenger says, “that cholo might rob me,” using a derogatory term for an indigenous person.
It’s a realistic scene, says Wilfredo Ardito, a 45-year-old attorney who APRODEH’s work on racism and discrimination in Ayacucho. He says Peru is an extremely ethnically diverse country, but years of racist attitudes towards the native people have resulted in the indigenous people themselves rejecting their own identity, refusing to speak their own languages, and turning their backs on their own culture. “They even use derogatory words against people like themselves,” Ardito says. “People lack self esteem, they respect white people more than themselves.” This is one of the key aspects of APRODEH’s training: helping people accept who they are, and to be proud of themselves. “Part of the process of eliminating racism is accepting your own face,” Ardito says.
APRODEH teaches staff at municipal government about discrimination and racism as a means to raise awareness and encouraging local communities to pass local ordinances to promote equality as part of a comprehensive effort to fight poverty in Ayacucho “We know it is more effective to have a local law,” Ardito says. “Most people don’t know about the national laws, not the police, not the judges.” One strategy that has proven effective is to work directly with elected regidoros, sort of like county commissioners, who represent specific constituencies in municipal affairs.
Socorro Arce, 45, is a regidora in Huamanga who helped organize a training session for all the female elected politicians in the department of Ayacucho – about 113 of them. This led to a network that is helping to promote women leaders, a space where Arce says “we can exchange ideas, and talk about human rights and gender, and we support new ideas like the ordinances, so we can reduce discrimination against people who speak Quechua, have a different religion, or women who are pregnant.”
Arce started fighting against injustice while in a religious high school, which she says was run poorly and discriminated against the darker skinned, poorer girls. “That’s why I became a leader -- the girls were really submissive, and I started to change that mentality,” she says. Arce was expelled twice, once for leading a strike against the school by students objecting to corporal punishment. “They would make us stand facing a wall with our hands on our heads for hours, it was like torture. I told them, ‘If you keep punishing us like this, we won’t go to class’,” she says she announced one day. “I was about 14 or 15 then.”
When APRODEH was looking for an ally to promote local ordinances, program officer Arturo Lopez decided to approach Arce because “she’s really accessible, I called her and she said ‘come on over,’ and she helped negotiate with the other women leaders.” He called the right person, it seems. Starting in her high school days, Arce says struggling against injustice was always high on her agenda. “In all the positions I have held as a leader, I have always spoken out against discrimination.”
Lopez and Arce are an unlikely pair. He is soft spoken, she is an aggressive talker, an avid networker. “I really like Arturo,” Arce says over a glass of fruit juice overlooking the central plaza in Huamanga. “He’s really calm. I’m more like an earthquake.”
Together they convened the women leaders, held a training session, and these women then went out and helped their communities pass four new ordinances in Ayacucho APRODEH says are fighting back against racism and discrimination at the local level.
]]>Near the city of Huamanga is a smaller municipality called Jesus Nazareno. After the city of Huamanga passed a new ordinance to address racism and discrimination, Jesus Nazareno took steps to do the same in 2008.
Jesus Nazareno is a community founded by people fleeing the violence of the 1980s guerilla war. This conflict originated in the highlands of Ayacucho, and indigenous people there suffered terribly at the hands of both the Shining Path rebels and the Peruvian military. Many were survivors of horrible human rights violations. The founders of Jesus Nazareno had the protection of human rights firmly in the foundation of their new community.
“We took this initiative to create a non-discrimination ordinance to counter the prejudice against campesinos, rural people, even disabled people,” says Nancy Contreras, who works for the Jesus Nazareno government. She says the central message the municipality wants to send with the ordinance is that everyone is equal in Jesus Nazareno. “We are all the same here, poor or not poor, disabled or not.” Contreras says Jesus Nazareno wanted to take measures that would help people gain equal access to those things local government does that can help people climb out of poverty: education, health care, and assistance for disabled people and the elderly.
At a meeting of staff, regidoras and regidoros, and volunteers at the municipal office, the scope of the ordinance starts to become clear:
On the other side of the city of Huamanga, San Juan Bautista developed an anti-discrimination ordinance later the same year. APRODEH helped train staff at the city hall, and aired radio spots to teach citizens about the new ordinance. Since then, one regidora named Magaly Bautista, 28, says she has seen significant differences in the ways people relate to each other in the town since she took up her elected post four years ago. “They’ve changed the way they relate to people,” she says. “I’ve seen changes in people’s conduct; it’s very fulfilling to be a part of it.”
Bautista says the new ordinance has created some positive things for her personally. Coming in to office as a 24-year-old, and a representative from the opposition political party, she says, “I felt discriminated against because I am young…all the people in power were over 40, and they always put me last.”
Now, she says “I have definitely seen changes since the ordinance passed two years ago…young people have gone from being passive to taking up a dynamic role in the government. They participate more in events, and the majority of public officials are women.
“I feel part of the team, and people listen to my opinions.”
]]>To Wilfredo Ardito, the links between poverty and racism in Peru are obvious.
“The differences between life in the highlands, and in the jungles, and life in Lima are extreme,” he says in APRODEH’s office in Ayacucho. “Life expectancy in Lima is 80, and in the highlands it is 50. The campesinos [rural people] are poor, illiterate, malnourished, and people think this can’t change. So when budgets are approved, there is money for a [football] stadium in Lima instead of for reducing maternal mortality in the mountains…there is an attitude that campesinos can suffer, they can exist in this state of poverty, it is all right.”
After 10 years of economic growth in Peru, Ardito says wealth is concentrated in very few hands in the country, and the situation of the poorest people has not changed much.
APRODEH’s strategy is to encourage local leaders to promulgate local ordinances to address problems of racism and discrimination, and then train local municipal staff and officials to implement and enforce the new laws. The training sessions, Ardito says, are particularly effective. “People are skeptical at first, or they think we are going to talk about Martin Luther King and the civil rights movement...then they realize it is about their experience, and that they share with others experiences of racism.” This goes for indigenous people, as well as for mestizo (mixed race) and white people who may have been brought up to behave in certain ways towards others who are different. The realization of this can be profound, and life changing.
Oxfam America supports efforts to reduce racism and discrimination against indigenous people and women in Peru because these are the most impoverished people in the country. Helping indigenous people gain more respect for their basic rights will help them gain their fair share of quality education and health care. Eliminating discrimination will also help women gain access to better jobs and other services, and generally improve the situation for the country’s poorest people.
Building respect for indigenous people will also help communities value their own indigenous culture. This is essential because many indigenous groups have developed efficient, sustainable ways of living and working the land in some environmentally sensitive areas. The indigenous ways of using natural resources are being forgotten as people feel they must reject their indigenous identity in order to take advantage of all that modernity and western culture can offer. This is part of the reason why APRODEH and others are encouraging indigenous youth to speak their native languages and be proud of who they are—so they can live a decent life, take advantage of all that their government and society can offer them, without forcing them to assimilate into western culture and forget their past.
These municipal ordinances are helping Peru pull these problems out of the shadows,” Says Santiago Alfaro, Oxfam America’s program officer for indigenous rights in Peru. “Government employees can now see the negative effects of racism and discrimination on the quality of life in the country. APRODEH’s work in Ayacucho is echoing across the country, and there are now more and better legal tools available to help indigenous people remove barriers to public services.”
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