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.
]]>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.”
]]>One key topic of discussion has been the right of communities to what is termed “free, prior, and informed consent.” Peru’s congress passed a bill in May 2010 requiring consultation with indigenous communities about development priorities. Five indigenous organizations worked in coalition to promote the bill, assisted by a number of allies, including Oxfam. In June, Peru’s executive branch returned the bill to congress with suggested revisions. The coalition cautions the legislature to preserve the original intent of the bill: to reduce conflicts over access to resources and indigenous lands.
Free, prior, and informed consent requires the government to allow indigenous people to participate in decisions about the type of economic development that is carried out on their lands. This right is protected by the International Labour Organisation’s Convention (known as ILO Convention 169) that Peru signed and ratified in 1993. Article 7 of ILO Convention 169 states that people have the right
to decide their own priorities for the process of development as it affects their lives, beliefs, institutions and spiritual well-being and the lands they occupy and otherwise use, and to exercise control…over their own economic, social and cultural development.
There is a pressing need to reduce the number of conflicts over access to resources in Peru. The country’s Ombudsman Office issued a report in July 2010 that cited 248 conflicts—125 of which were characterized as “socio-environmental.”
Indigenous groups in Peru are concerned about the future of the consultation bill. "If there is no consultation mechanism,” explains Mario Palacios, representative of CONACAMI, a national organization of communities affected by mining, conflicts will increase.
“Many conflicts originate in indigenous peoples’ territories and the consultation [law] would help to resolve them." He says that if Peru’s congress were to adopt the revisions suggested by the executive branch, the consultation law would be ineffective.
Human rights activist and attorney Hernán Coronado points out that this potential impasse is a threat to the dialogue that had developed over the last year between the Peruvian government and indigenous people. For Coronado, the executive branch’s suggested modifications would produce a law that falls short of international standards. In addition, the suggested revision to the bill would diminish the efficiency of the original standard. "It proposes consultation only when communities have legal titles for their lands; this causes problems since there is no such land register in many peasant and indigenous communities," he explains.
The members of the coalition working on the consultation bill are the Interethnic Association for Development of the Peruvian Amazon (AIEDESEP), Confederation of Amazonian Nationalities of Peru (CONAP), National Confederation of Communities Affected by Mining (CONACAMI), Peasant Confederation of Peru (CCP), and National Agrarian Confederation (CNA). The coalition awaits further discussion eagerly. Peru’s congress is expected to take up discussion of the consultation bill in the coming weeks.
]]>Unfortunately, not all indigenous groups participating in these working groups felt that the discussions were productive. AIDESEP, a long-time Oxfam America partner and one of the largest federations representing indigenous peoples in Peru’s Amazon, has withdrawn from the dialogue process, citing lack of progress and reluctance on the part of the government to accept its share of the responsibility for the violence in Bagua.
While indigenous people and the government struggle to continue a meaningful dialogue, the Indigenous Federation of Madre de Dios (known as FENAMAD) has been objecting to the presence of Hunt Oil of Texas in the Amarakaeri Communal Reserve (RCA), part of the 3.5 million-acre Block 76 oil concession located in the Madre de Dios region in southeastern Peru. FENAMAD contends that Hunt Oil could be playing indigenous communities against each other to gain access to their lands. “The current strategy of the US company Hunt Oil is to negotiate directly with the members of each native community and seek to divide them and provoke open confrontation among the brother indigenous people within each community,” FENAMAD is saying in a memorandum.
There is a real danger this could emerge as the next flashpoint in a disturbing stream of conflicts between communities and oil and mining companies in Peru. The Peruvian Ombudsman Office estimates that of the 273 social and environmental conflicts in Peru in the first six months of 2009, 80 percent were related to extractive industry projects. (In 2008 there were 123 social and environmental conflicts in the same period.)
FENAMAD and other indigenous federations are insisting that foreign oil, gas, and mining companies must attain the free, prior, and informed consent from communities before they can enter any indigenous lands such as the Amarakaeri Communal Reserve. The right of free, prior, and informed consent is a right of indigenous peoples established under international law, and requires free access to full information (including independent analysis of project proposals), adequate time for a community decision free of pressure and coercion, and the option to reject a proposal--or accept under certain conditions.
The failure of oil, gas, and mining companies to gain appropriate access to communities with natural resources limits Peru’s ability to benefit from revenues it needs to help the approximately 50 percent of its population now living in poverty.
The legislature gave Peru’s President Alan Garcia broad powers to promote economic competitiveness through decrees last year, saying it was necessary to adapt legislation to comply with new requirements of the Peru-US Free Trade Agreement. Indigenous federations and many civil society organizations have strongly protested the possible consequences of these laws for the Amazon rainforest and indigenous lands, as well as the fact that they were adopted without transparency or genuine consultation. Some of these legislative decrees were rescinded following violent confrontations last June, but many are still in force.
Oxfam America's campaign—called the Right to Know, Right to Decide—aims to arm local citizens with the information they need to weigh the costs versus the benefits and decide whether to provide consent for the projects to move forward.
“There is a potential for this confrontation to escalate to violence,” says Emily Greenspan, Oxfam America’s policy advisor who monitors oil and gas projects in Peru’s Amazon. “Companies seeking to operate in any areas need to attain the free, prior, and informed consent of communities. Those that appear to be forcing their way into communities risk serious conflict, as we have seen in the recent past.”
]]>At least 30 people have been killed in recent weeks in violent confrontations between indigenous protestors and police. The overturn of these decrees now sets the stage for dialogue. Shortly after congress rescinded them, President Alan Garcia delivered a speech in which he said that his government should have included indigenous people in discussions about the decrees before he issued them.
The government of Peru is now initiating a commission to start a dialogue with indigenous people, and will include Oxfam's partner AIDESEP, which represents a highly diverse group of indigenous organizations from all over the Amazon region.
"Oxfam hopes this dialogue initiative will be an important first step toward lasting solutions based on indigenous peoples rights and ensuring strong environmental regulation of extractive activities in the Amazon," said Frank Boeren, Oxfam America's Deputy Director in South America.
]]>There are about 200 indigenous Ashaninka people living in this area, but most of them, like 29-year-old Dante Cheresente, are not making much money and therefore can't pay for things like doctor visits when family members fall ill or education for their children. They live off of the fruits and vegetables they grow in their small plots, but these are mostly for their own consumption. "We grow yucca, plantains, lemons, oranges, and tangerines," Cheresente says. "But we just eat most of it and feed it to our animals, because prices are so low it is not worth selling."
To tap into the opportunities of the market economy and make some money, Cheresente and his father, who is the village chief, and others in their community are collaborating with a local rural organization known as SEPAR, Oxfam America's partner in this central jungle region of Peru, to carry out an experiment: growing the ancient Sacha Inchi plant, which yields a nut that is rich in nutritious omega-3 and omega-6 oils.
"There is demand in Peru for Sacha Inchi oil for cooking, but also as a health supplement internationally," says Raul Ho, Oxfam America's program officer in South America. "It is well known now, and the supply is lower than demand, both in Peru and abroad. To meet this demand, we will help indigenous farmers find the right Sacha Inchi variety for their lands and help them grow, process, and sell it in the fair trade market."
SEPAR is working with farmers like Cheresente all over the central Amazon to plant experimental plots of Sacha Inchi. In San Ramon de Pangoa, they are growing two different varieties, one from the northern Amazon and one from the southern region, to determine which will perform best in the soil and altitude found in their village. "This is being done with indigenous farmers every step of the way," says Ho. "We will help them enter this market with the right seeds and production technology, and the farmers will know the best practices for growing Sacha Inchi." The goal is to produce a high-grade, organic Sacha Inchi, for which the farmers will get the best possible price.
In San Ramon de Pangoa, the rows of Sacha Inchi plants are interspersed with corn, soy beans, potatoes, and other food crops to determine which growing patterns work best. Frank Mendoza, a tropical agriculture expert advising SEPAR, says the Sacha Inchi crop could be quite lucrative. "If we can help these farmers grow Sacha Inchi as just one of their crops, it will increase the income of the farmers considerably," he says. Cheresente and his father, for example, say if they can make decent money from Sacha Inchi, they could devote five of their eight hectares—about 12 of their nearly 20 acres—to growing the plant. Ho and Mendoza estimate that with luck, in their first year they could get as much as 500 kilos of Sacha Inchi per hectare and sell the unprocessed nuts at about seven Peruvian soles (about $2) per kilo. This could mean a gross return of as much as $5,000 per harvest. With the right variety and improved production techniques, farmers like the Cheresentes could eventually produce nearly 1,000 kilos per hectare, which would bring in over $10,000 for unprocessed Sacha Inchi nuts on their five hectares, a huge income boost in a very poor region of Peru.
Cultivating a valuable cash crop like Sacha Inchi can help the indigenous Ashaninka people in villages like San Ramon de Pangoa to connect with local and international markets on their own terms: to earn money and preserve their culture and way of life. Preserving community and the Ashaninka's legacy occupy Cheresente's mind quite a bit these days: he and his wife, Laura, have a two-month-old son, Jason Fritz Cheresente. While his father talks with visitors, Jason Fritz lays in a hammock, quietly sleeping. Attached to the hammock is a string, which his grandmother pulls gently to rock the baby as she talks with friends. She and her generation have witnessed the wholesale occupation of this central jungle region by settlers from the highlands escaping the guerilla war of the 1980s and seeking land and opportunity. The government encouraged this exodus, believing the land was unoccupied, as it ignored the indigenous inhabitants. The result is that the Ashaninka have been squeezed into smaller and smaller areas and can no longer hunt and fish. They are now settled and trying to become part of the larger economy while preserving their culture. Despite these pressures, Cheresente is optimistic that growing Sacha Inchi will help them. "We expect to increase our income, so we can support the elderly people in the community, as they were the ones who worked to get this land. We also want to improve the level of nutrition and education for children here."
Growing Sacha Inchi is just part of this economic integration for the Ashaninka. Others in the village are getting help in producing and marketing handicrafts such as woven bags and traditional garments, as well as souvenirs for tourists. Cheresente's wife even got a grant from SEPAR to open a store, where she sells food, soap, and other consumer goods. Small enterprises like this will help people earn cash they can use to pay for health care and other services. And more small enterprises will help start to move cash through the rural economy.
Growing Sacha Inchi and other money-making ventures in these indigenous communities will help people prosper and maintain their communities. Cheresente and his neighbors have worked hard to get the research plots growing despite a serious drought that set in just after planting last year. They watered the Sacha Inchi plants from a small stream near the village and tended the plots three entire days per week.
Antonio Cheresente, Dante's father, says they are looking to Sacha Inchi for their future. "We know this research will help us improve our farms," he says.
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