Concerns about human rights and the environment are constantly swirling around the community and mine.
The Marlin Mine now produces more than 300,000 ounces of gold a year.
Critics of the mine in Guatemala and international experts are calling on the government and Goldcorp to accept the precautionary measures issued by the IACHR and suspend operations at the mine. It's a risky stance for local people to take: Amnesty International has noted cases of beatings and death threats against members of the San Miguel Defense Front(known by its Spanish initials, FREDEMI). Community members also report shootings and attempted shootings against mine critics. Aniceto López, a coordinator who works for FREDEMI was beaten in February 2011, along with Miguel Ángel Bámaca, a farmer and public health promoter.
The insecurity is "the worst thing affecting our community now," says Bámaca, who was also shot at late at night in July 2010, just outside his home. Like many other FREDEMI members, he is not comfortable publicly identifying his attackers. He says those who wish him ill "know what we do, where we live, when people meet...they know everything," Bámaca says."Who will help us?" The government, the courts, the police, they are not helping."
Adding to concerns about the environment and security, the ethnic Maya Mam people living in the area consider industrial mining as a form of disrespect for their religion and culture, which worships nature and Mother Earth. "Our spirituality, our vision is that there is harmony between nature, people, and God, we are together and there is balance in our lives," says Maudilia López, an indigenous woman who works for the Catholic church in San Miguel Ixtahuacán. "This mining activity puts our cultural values in danger."
After the IACHR issued its precautionary measures urging the government to suspend operations at the Marlin Mine, the government initially agreed to do so, then later claimed it did not have enough evidence of environmental damage and human rights violations. Oxfam America has been collecting signatures on an electronic petition urging the government to suspend mining at the Marlin Mine and investigate the human rights violations and environmental problems linked to the mine.
]]>Lawyers for the National Roundtable on Metalic Mining in El Salvador reacted to the initial hearing, saying that the proceedings ignored the essential role of local communities in determining whether mining projects can or should go forward, and the environmental risks associated with such projects.
Pacific Rim applied for the operating license in 2005 to open a mining project in the department of Cabañas, in the north of the country. It is suing for losses incurred on investments made during exploration work. Pacific Rim filed the suit based on the Central America Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA), specifically chapter 10 on investments and chapter 12 on dispute resolution.
The economic and investment focus of the dispute was heavily criticized by Luis López, a lawyer for the National Roundtable on Metalic Mining in El Salvador. "Environmental issues and the rights of the local communities are not being discussed," he says. "This operating license is being treated as just another permit, without taking into account the fact that this country is very small and densely populated, and those issues [the environment and people’s rights] will only be addressed as secondary issues."
That is why the Roundtable, with the support of Oxfam America and the Center for International Environmental Law (CIEL) will be sending an 'amicus curiae'-- a friend of the court brief-- to the ICSID. This is a way for organizations and people directly affected to get involved in a case of this kind, between a transnational company and a government. "With the 'amicus curiae' we're going to introduce new elements that will have to be taken into account, such as the environmental issue" says López. "We want all aspects of the dispute to be discussed."
A second hearing is scheduled for August, when both parties will produce further evidence to support their positions. The dispute is expected to be settled in August or September of this year.
]]>
With the crack of a sledgehammer on concrete, Oxfam's water and sanitation program in Delmas, Haiti, got underway.
The earth was still shuddering with aftershocks when survivors began to dig, carving out latrine trenches 10 feet long, 10 feet deep, and three feet wide through every kind of soil and pavement. Others did their part by quickly shaping platforms out of rocks and earth to support their new source of drinking water: Oxfam water bladders.
It was a race against time, and against deadly water-related bacteria like typhoid, hepatitis, and cholera that can thrive in crowded, unsanitary conditions. And it is a race that—so far, at least—we are winning. After the quake, hundreds of thousands of people had no access to toilets, and the water available wasn't fit to drink; yet, thanks to an all-out effort on the part of the displaced communities and aid agencies like Oxfam, there have been no outbreaks of waterborne disease.
But there is more to water and sanitation programs than health.
"We build latrines not only because they help prevent the spread of disease, but because they should help protect the dignity and safety of disaster survivors living in camps," says Oxfam engineer Kenny Rae, who led the first phase of Oxfam's water and sanitation effort in Delmas.
There is a special focus on the safety of women and girls, because in the chaotic aftermath of disasters, they are particularly vulnerable to harassment and assault. The structure of a latrine—like the firmness of its latches and whether its doors open toward or away from the general population of a camp—has implications for safety, so Rae and his team listened closely to the concerns of women residents.
Shower construction was another important issue. Haiti's weather is so warm that shower stalls can be open to the sky, but where they were installed within view of multi-story buildings, women in Delmas had understandable concerns about privacy—which Rae and his team quickly addressed by adding roofs.
"When it came to sanitation facilities," says Rae, "women in the camps had the first and last word."
Helping survivors recover after disasters is not as simple as doling out goods and services: it requires attention to the many facets of community well-being.
For example, working for pay can help disaster survivors meet a range of needs, both financial and psychological. Oxfam offered wages to residents to dig latrine trenches, cover them with slabs of molded concrete or plastic, and build structures of wood and plastic sheeting around them for shelter and safety.
"We ended up employing more than 300 people to build latrines in Delmas," says Rae. "Their communities benefited from the project, and their families benefited from the income."
But in some cases, the need for community-building trumped the need for money. When it came to constructing platforms for water bladders, everyone worked for free, says Rae. "They treated the work as a contribution to their communities."
Caring for Haiti's fragile environment was another key consideration for the water and sanitation team, which needed wood for construction.
"From the outset," says Rae, "we determined that we weren’t going to use local timber poles because of the impact on deforestation."
The team found a source of timber imported from the US. It was more expensive than local wood, and at first it was hard to find enough of it. But, says Rae, in a country as deforested and as vulnerable to landslides as Haiti, the environmental cost of harvesting timber is tremendous.
When Rae and his team assessed the local water and sanitation situation, they found settlements where thousands of displaced residents had gathered. But Delmas is also dotted with tiny camps and informal schools, and it took time to understand the full extent of the needs. Oxfam staff kept their eyes—and their office—open, continually updating their plans and assessments.
"We had an open-door policy," says Rae. "Pastors, school directors, and other community leaders would bring their requests and concerns to the Oxfam office on a near-daily basis, and we were almost always able to respond."
After helping create water and sanitation facilities in 21 sites, serving 40,000 people, Rae has returned home for a rest. Sort of.
"Of course, I was pleased to get back to the people I love," says Rae, "but I was torn because the needs on the ground in Haiti are so enormous."
When he goes back to Haiti, it will be to work on another key issue in the recovery: shelter. His focus will be not only the homeless in Port-au-Prince, but also the tens of thousands of rural families that are hosting relatives who fled the capital and are now living in very crowded conditions. Rae will be looking for efficient ways to build temporary housing and house extensions to reduce the stress on families.
"Shelter is—and will remain for a while—a huge, huge need," he says.
As for the water and sanitation program in Delmas, says Rae, "I'm confident that the Haitian engineers I helped to train will be able to carry it forward."
]]>We have been hearing a lot about the mangroves on this trip to the Pacific coast where countless families are struggling against a poverty that forces them to live where no one else will: in low-lying areas prone to flooding and along the sides of dirt roads that become hard to negotiate during heavy rains.
South of here, in a town called Metalío, we have just met with Francisco Calzadilla, a member of the technical team for Caritas, which, together with Oxfam America and three other donor groups, as well as six local non-governmental organizations, has joined a consortium called PRVAS—or Programa Reducción de Vulnerabilidades Ahuachapán-Sonsonate. One of its goals is to help communities carry out mitigation projects to reduce their risk in disasters. And that's where the mangroves come in.
"They serve as a natural barrier—to the waves and the wind off the ocean," says Calzadilla. "They also provide a food source. They serve as an ecosystem for shellfish."
The strip of mangroves Calzadilla is particularly concerned with, stretches for about 20 kilometers around Metalío. He estimates that about 50 percent of that stretch has been deforested as people cut down the trees for both construction material and firewood.
But in August, with support from PRVAS, community members took steps to recover some of those losses, said Calzadilla. They collected, sorted, and planted 20,000 mangrove seeds—they look like long, slender pods—along a two-kilometer deforested strip.
It will be a while—10 years predicted Calzadilla—before the seedlings mature enough to serve as a barrier against the onslaught of Mother Nature. In areas where the mangroves have disappeared and there is nothing to break the force of winds, small houses have blown away, Calzadilla said.
In some neighborhoods around Acajutla, El Salvador's largest port, mangrove forests have been severely reduced—replaced by fill and the simple homes of some of the country's poorest residents.
Further east in the department of Usulután, preservation efforts are underway for some of the mangrove forests in Jiquilisco Bay, where Oxfam America is helping local fishermen organize themselves to improve their production and protect their livelihoods. They depend on the resources that flourish in the dense tangle of roots, mud, and tidal water.
Deep in the pre-dawn gloom of one protected area in the bay, we can just make out a platform where watchmen keep round-the-clock guard over this watery haven supported by funds from the United Nations. Here, mollusks can get a solid start and help to increase the catch that local fishermen need to feed their families.
Later, after the sun is up and the tide has receded, the mangrove forests in Jiquilisco Bay come alive with the chirping and scrambling of wildlife. Herons pick their way over the mud flats. A raccoon darts through the exposed roots. A vulture studies us from his perch on a branch.
Juan Larín Rojas, a 54-year-old fisherman, eyes each one of them with delight. He knows many of their scientific names. This is his turf, and despite the challenges of making a living from these mangroves and the sea around them, he wouldn't give up this life for anything.
"I love fishing. I love the sea. I love feeling free," he says.
]]>La Paz is a small collection of rustic shelters, on the side of the road 20 minutes from Lake Izabal in eastern Guatemala. It blends into the intense green hills, dotted with small corn fields and criss-crossed by footpaths. It is the scene of a struggle between indigenous farmers and an international corporation intent on exploring for minerals on the land the Q'eq'chi use for growing corn and beans.
Freddie Mo Qub, a young leader of the community, explains the situation: A mining company called Skye Resources has a license from the government of Guatemala to explore for minerals in the area. Property rights are not clear, and the company insists it has the right to charge them rent to farm on the 3,300 acres where they have lived and worked for many of years. Eventually, they are told, they will have to leave.
The people of La Paz have designated Mo Qub, 30, to learn about the plans for the mine, determine what dangers they face, and help them develop a strategy for the way forward. He has been participating in workshops run by the Association of Friends of Lake Izabal, or ASALI as it is known in Spanish. ASALI has also taken him to visit mine sites in the western highlands of Guatemala, as well as in Honduras.
ASALI's director Eloyda Mejía is at the meeting. She says the workshops, which are done with help from Oxfam America, are designed to help the indigenous people in the area learn about their rights, and the ways that modern mines operate. When Mejía addresses the meeting, she says, "we want you to learn, see for yourselves, and make your own decisions about mining."
Mo Qub says the ASALI workshops are an invaluable source of information. La Paz is now connected to different areas of the country where indigenous people are experiencing similar problems. "If it weren't for these workshops, we would not have any clear information about the effects of mining in our communities," he says.
He has seen that mining communities in Guatemala do not benefit much from the revenues from the minerals taken from their lands. While they may be relocated and lose their fields and water sources, they may or may not get a decent job at a mine site, which usually hires skilled workers.
Mo Qub says after seeing the effects of mining on other indigenous people in Guatemala, Las Paz is not in favor of the Skye Resources project. "Everyone wants the mine to leave," he says about La Paz. "The same way it came is the way it can go. Mines use a lot of water, they pollute the water, and will damage the agricultural potential here."
For the Q'eq'chi people, the situation is curious, and a bit infuriating. They pay to work land that has been theirs for many generations, and are being pushed to leave it altogether. "We are 100 percent Guatemalans," Mo Qub says. "How is it possible that a foreign company can accuse us of illegally occupying this land? The words they say to us are offensive, and deeply anger us."
The meeting ends with a prayer, just as it started. The farmers may pray individually, but afterwards a woman says they are working together to defend their small part of the world, where they have lived for centuries. "We are united," she says. "We know our children will have no place to go if we don't fight for our land now." Like many others, she is not eager to share her name with strangers.
As if to show they will remain here, several of the men sharpen their machetes, and start clearing the grass and weeds away from the entrance of the meeting place. They slice the grass with long graceful slashes. The machetes make a metallic ringing sound as the grass jumps away from the blades, which blur as they arc off to the side and back again.
]]>It is hard to reconcile the beauty of the lake with the violence along its shores. Mejía's work to defend the environment, and propose sustainable ways of living and working, has angered some who would prefer to rely on industrial mining for economic development in the region. A local citizen's organization has written a threatening letter to the Interior Ministry in Guatemala City, saying her work to educate community leaders about the risks of mining is unacceptable. She continues working, with international observers with her at all times to protect her.
Mejía first came here 10 years ago. She and her three children settled in the lakeside town of El Estor, promoting ecotourism and waging a series of campaigns to protect Lake Izabal from oil and mining projects that she says threaten the natural resources of the region—and won—t do much to benefit the local farming and fishing communities.
In 2002, Mejía and a handful of teachers, fisherman, environmentalists, a local physician and other citizens took on Shell Oil, which had a concession to drill right through the bottom of the lake. The small band of opponents founded the Association of Friends of Lake Izabal (ASALI) and succeeded in blocking the licenses for this project. ASALI then turned its attention to nickel mines along the sides of the lake.
There has been industrial mining in Izabal since the 1950s, but it has been in fits and starts as the prices of commodities have spiked and crashed over the years. But mining is now booming everywhere, so the Canadian company Skye Resources, which bought the mine in 2004, is now preparing to work a 100-square-mile concession it acquired in 2005. The area is home to 30 indigenous Q'eq'chi communities. None were properly consulted about the concession. This constitutes a violation of Guatemala's 1996 Peace Accords and international laws that protect indigenous people. The company is now engaged in talks with communities to convince them to go along with the plan to mine.
Skye Resources is now operating at a loss as it seeks financing so it can start mining in 2009. The company estimates it could get as much as 673,000 tons of nickel out of the mine. As part of its effort to clear people out of the concession area, the company and police forcefully evicted a number of Q'eq'chi communities in January of 2007, burning their humble shelters to the ground.
"We need a strong defense of the environment here," Mejía says at her home in El Estor. She has just finished a meal of traditionally prepared fish from Lake Izabal, and dines with visitors and two members of Peace Brigades International, who accompany her to ensure her safety.
ASALI is working in 29 communities to teach their leaders about mining: how much water is used, the chemicals, the transportation, and the rights of indigenous communities to be consulted. "We want every community leader to attend one of these workshops, and share their ideas and problems and work on them together," Mejía says. With help from Oxfam America, ASALI also arranges for these leaders to visit other mining areas in Honduras and in Guatemala's western highlands to see the effects of mining on indigenous people. "This is so they can see the consequences and talk to affected people," she says.
With the laws around land rights so unclear in Guatemala, indigenous people lack the required title and other official documents they need to defend their territory. Mejía says this needs to be addressed. "Through our contacts we have put the issue of land on the national agenda; it's been discussed in congress, so people are aware of the problems of land in mining concession areas."
Much of Mejía's motivation comes from her commitment to the people, all those who fish and grow corn on the fields near the lake. "When you come here and see the needs of the poor communities, you can see that people are not asking for much in life. But when you see the injustices and the way things are taken from them, it is so unfair that they are so poor and have so few opportunities despite the richness and national treasure here," she says. "This leads you to fall in love with this place. It makes you want to do something to contribute to changes here—and to denounce the injustice."
It is just this commitment that puts her at risk. Her Peace Brigade guardians are with her and several of her colleagues from ASALI, all of whom are working under threat. Mejía says they are not radicals."We want people to understand that there is another healthy and just way to develop this area, through rational use of the national treasures we have here."
"If at some time we no longer exist, we hope that we have sowed some seeds of awareness, solidarity, and respect to the environment. In this threatening climate for our work, our vulnerability makes us do what little we can—with all our hearts."
]]>Mining has never been a significant part of El Salvador's economy, but modern techniques make it attractive in some areas. The Canadian mining company Pacific Rim is currently exploring for minerals in three areas, and has requested a concession to restart mining at the El Dorado mine in the department of Cabañas where it says it has invested $28 million and can produce 1.2 million ounces of gold and 7.4 million ounces of silver. Pacific Rim is also in the early stages of exploration on its Zamora project, near Texistepeque, Santa Ana.
Farmers near the town of Texistepeque are skeptical about mining, and some have even visited large-scale mines in Honduras and come back opposed to any mining in El Salvador. Salvador Antonio Seseña Rodruígez, 62, is one of the farmers who made the trip to the San Andres mine in Honduras. "I was really impressed by the destruction," he said about the mine. "We saw the main river there was almost dry, and there was no life in the river."
Rodruígez is a father of 10, and makes a living raising cows and growing corn and beans. So he was particularly concerned about the water problems he saw. "We already have a water crisis here," he says. "We can't drink contaminated water. How will we end up if we allow mining here?"
It was through his church and a meeting with the Centro de Investigación Sobre Inversión y Comercio (know as CEICOM) that he participated in the exchange visit. He came back ready to mobilize others in his community.
Oxfam America is working with CEICOM and a coalition of social, environmental, and other civil society organizations pushing for a voice in a real debate about whether mining is suitable for El Salvador, where some estimates say 90 percent of surface water is already polluted. The country has also been largely deforested, leaving many communities at risk of landslides during heavy rains, so many are already concerned about the environment. The Salvadorian Bishop's Conference released a statement saying mining causes damage to the environment and communities in May of 2007.
Civil society organization in El Salvador have proposed a law that would prohibit all hard-rock mineral mining, arguing the country is too densely populated and water is too scarce to support the industry.
Oxfam America's program in Central America, which is based in El Salvador, is working to enrich the debate on this issue, help civil society project its voice and hold the government accountable to the people, and provide information about mining and its effects on communities and the environment that citizens can use to make informed decisions.
The government of El Salvador has said it will not grant any new licenses to explore or operate mines until it does a strategic environmental study to assess the likely impact of open-pit mining in the country. "We feel this study should be done with the participation of civil society," says David Pereira of CEICOM. He said that in 2006 the minister of natural resources came out publicly against mining, saying the government did not have the capacity to regulate the industry. The minister then challenged civil society to change the laws and cautioned land owners not to sell their land to mining companies.
Some members of the senate have written a public letter to government leaders saying that they believe allowing industrial mining into the northern areas of the country will jeopardize development projects supported by the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), a $460-million, US government-funded foreign aid program, to bring sustained economic development in that region.
Pacific Rim continues to explore at El Dorado, which it says is its flagship property. The company is running an aggressive public relations campaign with radio ads introducing the slogan "minería verde" in an attempt to win hearts and minds of government and citizens. It also sponsors municipal soccer teams, and holds community meetings to sway farmers to accept mining in their community.
In the meantime, the Environmental Committee of Cabañas is reporting that 10 natural springs have dried up in the past month in areas close to Pacific Rim exploratory drilling. These reports have been verified by the Ministry of Natural Resources. In one of the cases, cattle-raising communities lost their natural spring four days after Pacific Rim began drilling. The company is now trucking in daily rations of water.
]]>The Prize recognizes individuals for sustained and significant efforts to protect and enhance the natural environment, often at great personal risk. Each winner receives an award of $150,000, the largest in the world for grassroots environmentalists. The Goldman Prize considers those involved in local efforts, where positive change is created through community or citizen participation in the issues that affect them. Through recognizing these individual leaders, the Goldman Prize seeks to inspire other ordinary people to take extraordinary actions to protect the natural world.
The Amazon Defense Front was founded in 1994, and is leading a law suit against ChevronTexaco for alleged environmental damages in the northeast Amazon region of Ecuador. Oxfam America has supported the FDA since it was founded, and provided grant funds to help it organize 100 communities affected by oil pollution.
"For many years, Oxfam has helped us to organize and raise awareness in affected communities," said Luis Yanza. "This work that has been critical to keeping the case alive."
This prize is very important for Yanza and Fajardo. In addition to the financial support for their work, it will also help the FDA gain public attention and much-needed exposure in the media.
"Pablo Fajardo and Luis Yanza have always worked in close coordination with us," said Javier Aroca, program coordinator for Oxfam in South America. "We congratulate them for this award and welcome this new recognition of their efforts to defend the rights of all Ecuadorians."
Luis Yanza was the first president of the Amazon Defense Front (FDA), an umbrella group of community and grassroots organizations formed to protect the environment in the northeastern Ecuadorian department of Sucumbíos. He now coordinates the FDA's involvement in the ChevronTexaco case and serves as liaison with the Assembly of Delegates, an organization that was formed—and which is supported by Oxfam America—to represent approximately 100 communities affected by the environmental damage left behind by Texaco.
Luis explains that "even if the trial ended today or tomorrow, or if it ends in another year or two, the process doesn't stop there, because after the court decision comes the hard work—carrying out the sentence, doing the environmental cleanup, implementing the compensation. That needs to be done in coordination and with the participation of the affected communities. Even if we lost the trial, it would have to continue, because we still need to find a solution to the people's environmental and health problems, because the situation can't go on like this..."
Pablo Fajardo was born in 1972 in the town of El Carmen, in the province of Manabí. He now lives in Shushufindi, in the province of Sucumbíos since 1987. The trial against Texaco is his first case and it is a crucial one for the defense of the rights of the Amazon population, as well as for the sovereignty of Ecuador.
Pablo says that the only thing that he hopes for in the Texaco case is "that justice can be done. Those of us who live here have a great opportunity to demonstrate to the rest of the country that we are men and women with rights equal to those of others."
]]>Dr. Almendares is a renowned defender of human rights and the environment. He has a long trajectory of work in the poorest communities of his country, providing people with free health care, organizing them, and passing on his knowledge. In his academic career, he has directed research at prestigious universities and institutions, including the University of Pennsylvania, Harvard University, and the Cardiovascular Research Institute in San Francisco. In his own country, he has dedicated himself to the sciences, first as a professor at the Medical School, later as its dean, and eventually as rector of the Autonomous National University of Honduras.
After the award ceremony we spoke with Dr. Almendares:
What does it mean to you to be nominated and then elected for this prize from InterAction?
I accepted this recognition as a noble and generous act by the organizations in the United States, and also as an act of solidarity with the people we are working with to build a better world that is more respectful of human rights and environmental justice. This honor has been a great act of moral support for me in the face of the all the risks we take in order to defend the life and dignity of human beings and to provide for a great love of humanity and our planet earth.
What inspired you to study medicine?
My greatest inspiration was my mother. I call it the theology of dreams. When my mother was pregnant she dreamed she was in paradise and that I worked with plants, the environment, and serving humanity. I come from a poor family. We lived in a poor neighborhood plagued with alcoholism, prostitution, and violence. Thanks to my mother's advice, I didn't get involved in all that. She never physically or psychologically abused me and she taught me a culture of non-violence. But it was a struggle to make it out of that environment. When I was in college sometimes I went hungry. I was malnourished and anemic. When I it was my turn to spend six months in bed, I learned what it meant to be a patient, and that as a doctor, one must be humble. When I graduated from the university with a degree in medicine, I had three callings: to work on behalf of the poor, to educate, and to dedicate myself to science.
These callings led you to establish various projects aimed at improving people's lives...
For many years we have run a clinic for poor people where we provide free medical attention. Mostly we work with the urban poor residents of Tegucigalpa and with indigenous people in some of the most remote communities in the country, where doctors rarely venture. In addition to providing medical attention, we do organizing work. For example, we work with 26 communities in the Tegucigalpa urban areas. We organized the women in these communities into a committee called the Honduran Committee for Peace. Now they have family gardens. Also, with the support of a Canadian organization, we have constructed more than 200 tanks to store the water that they get only once a month. We held natural medicine workshops to teach women how to treat common illnesses themselves. For example, chamomile, mint, and linden flower teas, and massage techniques, can relieve stress and tension. We have taught them how to treat a cough or diarrhea. We are also concerned about the environment and founded the Madre Tierra [Mother Earth] movement. Now we are working on a reforestation project. We asked the kids in the program how many trees they would like to plant. The told us one million trees. So, with the dream of planting a million trees, we are working with them in the poorest neighborhoods. We have already planted more than 15,000 trees and within this movement we have created a school of sorts, where kids are learning how to care for the environment and their health.
How is your work related to Oxfam America's work?
Through our work with Madre Tierra, we have been involved with Oxfam on the issue of mining. Madre Tierra has been studying the health impacts of heavy metals. We have been conducting research for five years in the Siria Valley region of Honduras, where there is a large mine. With the help of a Harvard student, we were able to get baseline data on the health conditions in the community prior to the mine, in order to make a before and after comparison. We go to the communities to conduct research and clinical exams and what we have noticed, interestingly, is that it is mostly the women who are ill, not the men who work in the mines. The women use the water often, to cook, clean, and wash clothes. We have seen many health problems in their skin, eyes, and nervous and respiratory systems. Oxfam America has helped a lot by providing us with information on technical and ethical issues. It has worked on a broad scale in many different areas.
In all these years that you have spent working with the poorest of the poor, have you seen any changes in the people, their situation or policies?
Yes, we have seen changes. The people have a better perception of their situation; they are more aware. This allows them to dissent and make demands of the authorities if they disagree with decisions they make. We also work in human rights. We have a center for torture victims and violence prevention, inspired by the teachings of Gandhi, Martin Luther King, and Francisco Morazán [Morazán, a Honduran politician and defender of democracy, was the last president of the Federal Republic of Central America in the mid-1800s]. We have been able to promote a message of non-violence with government institutions, which we see as directly related to the issue of health. We advocated for the government to incorporate mental health issues in its human rights agenda and women's rights into the health agenda. The government also approved and ratified The United Nations Convention Against Torture.
Your work presents you with some of the toughest situations in your country. What motivates you to keep going?
Despite it all, I always maintain great optimism and a love for the earth. I appreciate the cooperation from the international community. I have found great human beings in all the continents: Africa, Europe, Asia, and America. I am very grateful for this. We must always have love and compassion among us and with all that we do.
]]>"One part was washed out by the landslides," cooperative member Lucas Izapo told us. "Before Stan, the land was thick with coffee plants, everything was covered with coffee plants. When the landslide came, it took the coffee bushes with it. The hill was left bald, and covered in rock.
"Now I am fixing up my land, little by little. But it's not going to take a year to fix it, it'll take three, four, or more years before this part is back to normal. Because it isn't easy to build walls. This year I planted living fences with Yucca and Bower Vine. And little by little I am going to make a stone wall, to protect the coffee from the rain that falls [each winter]."
The cooperative was able to support its members with the donation of new coffee plants to replace the older ones, organic fertilizer, and $62 for each member. They needed to make this investment to care for the plants they still had left.
They cooperative also repaired the channel that drains the coffee washing stations. This was essential to renew their fair trade certification; without this certification their income would drop even more.
Like other places in Guatemala, farmers in Solola lost much of their corn. Lucas said it has been difficult to feed his family of 10.
"I had to work even harder to sustain us, because I didn't have my harvest which was lost the year before. I lost 160 to 200 pounds from that corn harvest. So I had to plant tomato and onion and sell it to buy the corn that I used to grow for myself. Little by little I was able to buy the corn—100 pounds, another 100 pounds—because I grew these other crops."
]]>Recovering the coffee crop is not a quick endeavor. In the majority of cases it will be three or four years until the harvest is at its normal level. And cleaning up the destroyed plots of land also takes time. It is an additional task that the coffee growers had to undertake in the moments when they weren't tending to the crops spared by the storm.
The first cooperative we visited was ASUVIM, in the province of Quetzaltenango, where we spoke with the president of the cooperative, Daniel Balux. The principle problem this cooperative faced was that nearly 30 percent of its harvest was affected by black bean, a deformation of the coffee bean that cannot be seen when the coffee is harvested, but only once it is dried. It changes the color and the taste of the coffee, disqualifying it from the gourmet and fair trade markets.
Can you tell us about the black bean problem?
Actually, we detected it here at the mill. We saw that we had black beans, but we didn't think it was so extensive, we thought it was just the first beans. But as we continued with the harvest it was the same. It was the whole harvest. The coffee looked good as parchment coffee but if we look at them all—the ones with a different color, they are black beans. We can't say that our members brought in bad coffee, because the cherries looked good, they didn't even look a little rotten or anything like that. The coffee was good. You can't say to the people, look, bring us better coffee or chose it better—[but] of course when they cup this coffee the cuppers will say it is green coffee, coffee that didn't reach its full maturity. So the aid for the black bean was something necessary [to compensate for the low price]. So, what did we do after all this? Well, thanks to the help that came from you, at least the members got their normal price. At least we could say to them, 'Look, the coffee was shipped at this price, but we are going to help you a little bit and we are going to pay you this much.' The people saw that at least there was an effort behind all this."
In addition to this monetary compensation that was given to the members, what other actions did ASUVIM take to overcome the crisis?
Here 60 percent of what people earn comes from coffee. If there are problems with the coffee, there are problems in the families. Either there is little schooling, or people are unable to complete projects they had planned or there isn't much food. Here in ASUVIM we also helped out with corn. We gave each member 800 pounds of corn. Part of it we donated, the other part the members had to buy. Each family of six consumes about 1,600 pounds of corn per year. [They lost 80 percent of the harvest.] What happened with the 20 percent that they were left with? They ate it in January, maybe into February, but by March they had to buy corn. Then the problem is that when there is high demand for corn, the price rises. So we helped them with this, with 800 pounds. We think it's 50 percent of the corn they eat, we could now say that at least they had corn to eat.
The other damage we suffered as an organization is related to the landslide here next to the patio where we sun dry the coffee. With the rain, little by little, we were losing more of it. So we were faced with an emergency. Either we did something or our patio would collapse. And the more time that passed, the worse it was. So we received aid from Oxfam America because the construction is big. But it was necessary because if we lose the patio, it'd be an additional expense.. We are still constructing, but we are making the wall. We aren't doing something that is simply going to fall apart next year and then we would have to invest in it all over again. We want to invest, to spend and if that means chipping in ourselves, we do it.
]]>On January 13, 2001, a powerful earthquake shook El Salvador. In San José Costa Rica, houses collapsed, many residents suffered broken bones, and a four-year-old girl was killed. The main road was destroyed, so for a time the community was cut off from outside help.
In the aftermath of the 2001 earthquake, Oxfam teamed up with local partner REDES with the goal of helping Costa Rica and many other Salvadoran communities prevent future earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural events from becoming full-scale disasters.
The REDES program in Costa Rica is grounded in a community emergency committee whose members have taken charge of evacuation, communications, shelter, first aid, and other key tasks. After mapping out the risks and resources of the village, REDES and the committee developed an emergency-response plan designed to ensure that everyone—including those living in hazardous locations and people with limited mobility—could reach safety in the early hours of an emergency. A two-way radio was installed, providing the community with access to the REDES base, which is staffed 24 hours a day to handle emergency communications. REDES trained community members in first aid and other skills that are essential for first responders, and the community held drills to simulate emergencies.
In October of 2005, Hurricane Stan pounded El Salvador and put Costa Rica's preparations to the test. High winds, heavy rains, landslides, and washed-out roads that isolated the village all portended tragedy, yet the town suffered no deaths or serious injuries. At a gathering of the community's emergency committee and Oxfam and REDES staff, we heard about what happened from the people who lived through it.
As quickly as possible after the hurricane struck, Claudia Dalila Sánchez, who headed up the evacuation committee, led her team on a tour of the community. They evacuated people trapped by landslides and caught in other precarious situations, and they monitored the rising waters of Lago de Ilopango. "When the earthquake happened, we didn't know enough," she said. "For Stan, we had better information about how to take people out of danger."
"In both the 2001 earthquake and Hurricane Stan, the roads were destroyed so no vehicles could come in," explained Miguel Martínez, San José Costa Rica's emergency committee coordinator. "But the difference with Stan was that we were organized. After the earthquake, people didn't have the consciousness to help each other, but after Stan, the community was united. We scheduled turns so people could work on the road, and in a short time, we were able to clear it."
Carmen Sosa is a shy woman who waited until all seven of the committee leaders had spoken before telling her story. "During the earthquake, we didn't know what to do. My house fell. My husband was hurt by a roof tile that fell on his head. And since I didn't know what to do, I just cried. I saw all my things destroyed and thought, 'This is it. I don't have anything left.' But since REDES has given us training, we now know what we can do in these cases."
Carmen concluded with a self-assured smile that left us feeling that something about this program—either the new skills she's learned or the knowledge that she no longer has to face emergencies alone—has added a measure of confidence to her life.
Oxfam's partners work in many communities around the country, helping them take charge effectively at times of emergency. But our program goes far beyond teaching the nuts and bolts of emergency response: one of our partners co-authored a law that has created a role for communities in El Salvador's national system of disaster preparedness and response, and which requires for the first time that disaster preparedness be incorporated into development planning.
"We are working to help impoverished communities gain both the skills and the voice in the political process that they need to prevent future emergencies from becoming disasters," says Michael Delaney, Oxfam America's Director of Humanitarian Response. "So far, signs point to success."
Working through REDES and other partners, Oxfam America's disaster risk reduction programs in El Salvador are now reaching an estimated 200,000 people.
]]>I believe there are interests that we share that are very important to the work we do in Nicaragua—natural disaster preparedness work, extractive industries, and irrigation issues.
Oxfam also helps build campaign support, political understanding and meaningful participation.
We have firsthand information about what's going on with CAFTA. We are trying to provide that information to those people who don't have access to it.
We are influencing public opinion and pressuring the government to prevent the agreement from being ratified in the countries throughout Central America.
At the international level, we are trying to convince members of Congress who are undecided that CAFTA is not the thing to do.
CAFTA will have very serious consequences on the Central American environment. Even though there is a chapter on the environment in the agreement, it is not enough to mitigate the negative effects CAFTA will produce if approved.
The intellectual property rights provisions will allow exploitation of all the local environmental capital that Central America has. This chapter will just benefit big corporations at the expense of local companies and communities.
The big corporations will tap the genetic information in tropical forests and use it for their own needs. In this agreement, foreign investors will benefit to the detriment of local businesses in Central America.
Biodiversity is an area in which Central America is very rich. And those resources are at risk under CAFTA.
Another major problem for the environment is genetically modified organisms. US agriculture allows the use of these kinds of products without a problem. If CAFTA takes effect, increased trade will bring these products to Central America. Right now, these genetically engineered products don't exist in Central America. This would lead to contamination of the local resources.
We don't know what type of problems these new seeds will introduce. We don't know what consequences there will be.
After the agreement was negotiated, the nature of the activities changed. We moved from a phase where we constructed proposals to a second stage, which involved getting information to the people about what had been negotiated.
I believe that the US Congress is near a decision. It will be very tight, a very close call. So, this is a very important time. This is the time to influence the decision.
We still have to wait for the final result, but we have provided them with important information so they can make an informed decision.
]]>Rodolfo Pocop, the National Coordinator for the National Indigenous and Peasant Council (CONIC), says that despite this violent history, the indigenous people of Guatemala are well-organized, and mobilizing to protect their culture and defend their rights and ancestral lands.He feels their next big challenge is surviving in the "Free Trade" economy in the Americas. The number one concern: international mining projects, which Pocop saysis a significant threat to Mayan lands and culture. In a talk with Oxfam America staff in Guatemala, Pocop explains indigenous concerns about mining and indigenous lands and rights.
"Our ancestors taught us to love mother earth and live in harmony with all natural beings. All our political, economic, and social institutions are part of this heritage. This is the base on which we construct the future. The valleys, the plains, the mountains, the deserts, the oceans, the rivers, the condor, the eagle, the hummingbird, the puma, the jaguar—they are all witness to our collective systems of living, based on sustainability of humans and the environment.
We were kicked off our original lands by the colonizers, and then by our governments. We were divided in order to guarantee political control and pushed onto inhospitable lands. We are now trying to manage these lands by the conservation of biodiversity and natural resources. This started in 1492 and continued through the 19th century. In 1954, the best, most productive indigenous lands were passed to private hands, like the banana companies. Big areas now grow cotton and sugar cane; the best lands are for coffee production. In 1954, our culture and our collective ways of living were destroyed, and collective property was abolished.
[From 1960] until 1996, there was an armed conflict. Part of the reason for this was the concentration of wealth in the hands of no more than 30 families. They had all the economic and political power and social control over the country. Seventy percent of the population, the indigenous people, did not even have basic legal rights. We did not get any benefits from the government, we were just used as cheap labor, almost slaves or indentured servants. During the 36 years of armed conflict, 83 percent of the victims were among the indigenous Mayan people.
In Guatemala we have a republican constitution, almost a literal copy of the US Constitution. Only in articles 66 to 70 are indigenous people mentioned. We are seen as resources and folklore. Our fundamental rights are not recognized.
Discrimination is structural, it comes from the government, and it is replicated in the educational system. It teaches more about other cultures than our own. And for that reason, when we speak our own language and wear our traditional clothing, they say that we are inferior to those who are not Mayan. They assume that other peoples' culture is superior to that which is here.
If the state structure discriminates against indigenous people, then this is converted into exclusion from development. These last four years we have seen an example of this exclusion : 85 percent of the national budget was spent in the urban areas; 15 percent was for rural areas. But not even this amount reached the countryside due to high levels of corruption and misuse of funds.
The social fabric of indigenous communities has been torn. If we have survived for 500 years, it is not just chance. It is because our grandmothers and grandfathers have taught us to survive by growing crops without chemical fertilizer, and to live together, in solidarity, in harmony between humans, nature, Mother Earth, the birds, and animals."
"Before the first conquerors came, the Maya worked with gold, and silver, and other metals. They used these resources, but for personal and domestic usage. It was not for export. Now the extraction of metals comes with a cost. It is breaking the harmony between families and nature.
We are concerned about mining, and the way it is done, with open pits. Cyanide is highly toxic for humans.
We also can't understand why these companies don't respect something very important and fundamental to our survival: our own perspective and spirituality. Ours is not any old religion. Our spirituality is precisely the harmony between humans, Mother Earth, space, and nature. When we see the respect to Mother Earth is lost, we feel our roots are touched. And that is what is taken from us. It is like an extermination of our cultural identity, a moral extermination of our historical memory, of our grandmothers and grandfathers and what they have contributed to the development of humanity. This is the harmony of the Maya.
A whole system of life and culture is being destroyed. Scientific data and analysis show one impact, on nature, but to us it is deeper. We feel like this kind of mining represents a destruction of life and culture. So we are denouncing this new system of development, because it is passing over our right to be consulted, which is protected by the International Labor Organization Convention No. 169.
The benefit of mining to Guatemala is about one percent of the earnings generated, and only about half of one percent is for the municipality. So after all the millions and millions are taken out, half of one percent is nothing. And after they are done, they will leave our lands and they will be no longer useful for agriculture.
In the case of the Marlin mine, they project 109,000 ounces of gold and silver. With this comes the destruction of 10,000 hectares of land. There will be a lot of Mayan communities unable to survive into the future.
Our struggle going forward as indigenous people directly affected by mining is based on three principles: we will keep struggling so that our cultural rights as indigenous peoples are recognized; under no conditions will we negotiate with the government or companies the principles of lands and territories—we have a territory, and this should be respected; and we have the freedom of self determination about our lands and territories and their resources."
"We do not have a formal mining code that reflects our world view. Our ministry of energy and mines does not recognize that we have a right to be consulted each time they want to take a product out of our territory. Our government does not take into consideration the priorities of the indigenous people. It does not know about rural poverty and realities and does not understand indigenous peoples.
A high level commission is now developing a mining law. The government is trying to please every sector—using a sort of double discourse. When they speak to us, they say "Oh, you indigenous people, we love you and admire you" and they are going to give us all these things. And when the transnational companies come, they do the same thing. It is selling Guatemala, and keeping a good relationship with everyone while doing it.
The issue is not for them to give us something; the issue is for them to recognize our ancestral rights."
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