"The project has been very favorable for us, because we have seen ourselves embark on a really positive path within ANAP," Ydalmez Gonzalez says. "And for my personal experience, it has been very fruitful. We learned about gender, organizing, communication, computers, and organic agriculture. We learned a lot and it is very satisfying."
Many women in the rural areas of Cuba are looking for work, but there aren't many opportunities. Oxfam is helping to solve this problem by including in its projects the construction of greenhouses and nurseries where women can work. In addition, ANAP has organized workshops on gender in order to lift women's self esteem and create new leaders. Today, in the municipalities of Roda and Palmiras, there are 60 new women leaders.
"This project has been a base for us to continue working on what we have dreamed about for years. Women have the same rights as men, the law says so. But in the real world, from a social point of view, it isn't so," says Alberto Curbelo, president of ANAP in Cienfuegos. "Today, because of this project, 53 percent of the leaders in this province are women. So, when we saw these excellent results, we decided to develop a gender strategy for ANAP nationally. This strategy allows us to identify the problems that limit women's participation in each cooperative and find a way to resolve it. What's more, the project helps women and men identify their own strengths and potential."
For Carmen Padron, president of a credit and services cooperative, ANAP's gender work has been the key to her development. "I started out in ANAP in an administrative position in a livestock cooperative," she says. "Because of this women's leadership project, I began to feel more confident. I started to take on other responsibilities within the same cooperative. I worked a little in sugar cane production, taking on a little more of the role of a director among my workmates. And my workmates, apart from respecting me as a woman, saw me as a leader."
"Later, I went on to manage a 125-member sugar cane cooperative," she says. "It wasn't difficult. I learned a lot in the women's workshops. I felt confident. I learned to direct, to communicate, how to talk to my workmates, how to get them to do things without offending them, without mistreating them, or imposing myself upon them. I used the power of persuasion. But when I went on, a few months ago, to lead an entire cooperative I thought they might reject me. But they didn't; they accepted me. And since I had experience, it wasn't difficult. The farmer today is not the same as before. He accepts the fact that women lead, that they have opinions, and he takes them into consideration. So it wasn't difficult to be a woman leader. But if I hadn't have had all these training sessions, all this instruction, all this knowledge I had acquired, I wouldn't have been able to do it. I would have stayed behind a desk, scribbling numbers. No one would have been able to get me out of there."
It isn't just older women who are discovering these new abilities and possibilities. Only in her twenties, Yamelis Ferron was a speaker at an official ceremony. She spoke to thousands of farmers.
"It was really exciting, because after I spoke people said, 'I didn't know you were capable of that,' and 'I didn't think you had the courage to stand up and speak in front of so many people,'" she says, remembering her experience. "In school I would panic whenever I had to speak to large groups. But when I got involved in this movement of women leaders, little by little I lost that fear. I feel very proud to have started from the rank and file. I am now deputy in the municipality of Roda and I continue to work. They are small steps, but steps you notice."
]]>Members of Oxfam International have also provided grant support for neighborhood social programs, such as the world-renowned Martin Luther King Center, a leader in popular education.
Cuba's civil evacuation and protection system is widely renowned for its excellence. Oxfam works with Cuba's Civil Defense to help communities prepare for disasters and has helped Cuba significantly reduce its vulnerability to hurricanes. In 2004 Oxfam America, as part of Oxfam International, documented these experiences and lessons in the publication "Weathering the Storm: Lessons in Risk Reduction in Cuba."
Gender equality is a priority in all the projects Oxfam supports. While Cuban women enjoy a wide array of rights, there continue to be gaps, particularly at home. Supporting research and sensitivity training, particularly in regards to violence against women, is a priority for Oxfam in Cuba.
As part of Oxfam International, Oxfam America has contributed roughly $1.1 million to Oxfam International's work in Cuba since 1995. All of Oxfam America's grants were approved by the US Department of State, and mostly supported agricultural transformation projects designed to improve food security.
]]>In the 1980s, 80 percent of Cuba's trade was with the Socialist Block. With the fall of the Berlin Wall, this market disappeared and the economy practically collapsed. From 1990 to 1991 Cuba's imports declined by 73 percent. The agricultural sector, centered on intensive sugar production for export, depended on imported supplies. It hit rock bottom.
Then came the Cuban Democracy Act of 1992 (also known as the Torricelli Law) and the Helms-Burton Act, prohibiting companies that receive US subsidies to trade with Cuba, and excluding ships that dock in Cuba to visit the US for six months. This resulted in Cuba paying more for shipping because ships had to come from very far away and often solely to go to Cuba.
There were shortages of everything: medicine, gas, food, soap, toilet paper, and matches. "My bones were protruding here," says Jose Diaz, a 66-year-old architect, pointing to his ribs. "I had to sell my car because there was no gas. I lost 80 pounds, since there wasn't enough food and I was biking to work. But now I have a pot belly. I eat everything put in front of me."
To confront this crisis, Cuba's doors were opened to tourism and certain economic activities were liberalized, like small restaurants and fruit and vegetable markets. Later on, foreign currencies were allowed to circulate. Today, in addition to the Cuban peso, a convertible peso is circulating and can be used to make purchases in many stores and restaurants. Cuba also started to diversify its exports, focusing on medical services and biotechnology, distance learning, and commodities like nickel and tobacco.
What little foreign currency entered the country was used to maintain basic social services. In meetings with the Ministry of Education and National Institute of Economic Research, representatives were proud of the fact that no educational or health facilities were closed, and the weight of the crisis was distributed in an even manner.
The agricultural sector had to adapt to new conditions, and change from a monoculture, export-oriented model to the organic production of food for local consumption. Cuba is now considered the biggest laboratory for organic agriculture, in part because there are no chemical products available in Cuba for many of its crops.
In recent years, Cuba is slowly emerging from the crisis. In 2005, economic growth was at 11.8 percent; the next year 12.5 percent. During 2007 it grew 7.5 percent, thanks partly to a relaxation of some aspects of the US embargo. The United States is now Cuba's fifth largest trading partner.
The GDP of the country is higher than it was in 1989 when the crisis began. But this doesn't mean that Cuba has fully recovered. There are still great challenges ahead, like transportation, housing, and food security, to name the most pressing. Even though the average diet has increased to more than 3,200 calories per day, there is still much to be desired in terms of variety. There are shortages of milk and beef, and crop yields are lower than they were in the 1980s. The country spends a lot of money importing subsidized food to distribute to the population. But that food only covers half the population's nutritional needs. The buying power of salaries and pensions are insufficient to cover basic needs. Despite substantial increases, an average family still needs the equivalent of three median salaries to cover their basic needs.
]]>"He insulted us and beat me up," she says, tears welling up with the memory. Ortiz recounts the ordeal in her dirt-floor house in the department of Ahuachapan, sitting on a simple wood chair, holding her four-year-old daughter Melissa—her youngest. "One of my children said to me, 'Mama, let's get out of here,' so we went outside."
That spring night, outside their blue concrete house, the threats continued. "He insulted me so much... saying I was worthless, I had no future, and that it was better for him to kill me and the children."
Ortiz had to take action because her husband was a police officer and had a firearm. The family took shelter at a neighbor's house, and Ortiz called the police. Her husband was arrested the next morning. She and her children were safe for the moment, but in his drunken rage he had burned all their clothes.
The hills in Ahuachapan are bright green after a rainy summer. Blue and yellow butterflies fly lazily among the coffee trees along the dirt roads, and the sun is warm and comforting. It looks peaceful, making the violent confrontation Ortiz describes seem out of place. But in this small country of six million, widespread violence tends to be particularly deadly for women.
El Salvador is still recovering from a 13-year civil war that saw 75,000 people killed and nearly 8,000 "disappeared." It is a politically polarized society, torn between a small business elite, which dominates commerce and the government, and the majority struggling in poverty. Socially, men are dominant: It is a machista culture that holds many women in submissive roles in the family, raising children and doing other work in the home. Roughly half of Salvadorans live in poverty, and women head about 25 percent of households, so the abuse of and discrimination against women contributes directly to keeping them poor and in their subservient role in society.
There is a paucity of data on violence against women in El Salvador, but what few details are available tell a brutal story: In a country about the geographic size of Massachusetts, the rate of "femicide" in El Salvador was 11.15 per 100,000 women in 2005, far exceeding Guatemala's rate (population nearly 13 million) of 7.96 for that same year, according to a 2006 report by the Inter-American Institute of Human Rights. The same report shows the numbers of women murdered in El Salvador inching up slowly from 2001, when there were 211 women killed, to 260 in 2004, before jumping to 390 in 2005. The 2006 total was 437, according to Yanira Argueta, director of the Association of Salvadoran Women. "The situation is critical," she says at a meeting in her office in San Salvador. "Public officials are not sensitive to the problem, and there is no good application of the laws."
Part of the problem is public perception. A 2006 poll by CS Sondeo found that only about 83 percent of people in El Salvador believe that rape is a crime—which means that more than 15 percent don't consider it a criminal act.
Whether rape, murder, assault, or even psychological abuse, violence against women is more than an injustice or a human rights violation: it is an investment in the social status quo that keeps men on top and women below them. And it prevents women from fully contributing to the two changes El Salvador desperately needs: an end to poverty and the building of democracy.
]]>Molina de Vasquez worked hard to get the group established because she wants women to have opportunities to work outside their homes so they can broaden their horizons. "So many women are mistreated by their husbands," she says. "They need to know about their rights and feel capable of doing things."
"I would like to get women to know about their rights and duties, and to increase their self-esteem. We can help ourselves and our families, care for our children, and earn income to change our lives."
When asked why helping other women is so important to her, she says, "Let me tell you a little about my own life; then you will know."
The details come spilling out; she's like someone who walks away from a serious car accident, describing how lucky she is just to be alive. Mistreated by her father, her mother abused, Molina de Vasquez was married at 14 to a soldier. "I thought it was a way to escape," she says, "but my life got worse." Her husband was violent, and his family "used to tell me that my job was to have children and take care of my husband." When she failed to deliver a child for the first three years of their marriage, "I was useless to them," Molina de Vasquez says with a sigh.
But others could see that she was a leader. When their first child went to kindergarten, she was chosen to be the president of the parents' board at the school. "When I told my husband, he was angry. He told me I was not capable of it. I accepted this; he always told me I was good for nothing. For 11 years it was like that."
Eventually they moved to a rural area and things started to improve. Her husband became an agricultural laborer. They had a son. But Molina de Vasquez wanted to do more activities outside their home, like joining a health training program. Although reluctant to allow her to participate, her husband said she could host training sessions at their home. As part of this training, one of Oxfam's partners, AGROSAL, taught the women about their rights and how to prevent domestic violence. It was part of the Vida Diferente campaign to prevent gender violence.
"I started to listen to talks about preventing violence in the home," Molina de Vasquez says. "I learned about my rights." Since her husband allowed her to hold the meetings at their house, Molina de Vasquez took a risk: "I invited him to the talks and training sessions, and he became more sensitive." Together, she and her husband questioned the gender roles and attitudes in the machista culture in El Salvador, and they recreated their relationship. "Now my husband and I solve problems through dialogue, not violence," Molina de Vasquez says. He now recognizes how important it is for her to use her leadership skills. "If someone asks me to do something, I will do it because I know my husband will not say no."
Molina de Vasquez is committed to the new women's organization: "First I would like to get women to know about their rights and duties, and to increase their self-esteem." She says there are practical reasons for this, which leads to the second goal: "We need jobs for all the women. We can help ourselves and our families, care for our children, and earn income to change our lives." For Molina de Vasquez, respect for women and fighting poverty are part of the same struggle.
The changes in Molina de Vasquez's family are hard to compare to the earlier, oppressive days. "I have overcome it—so why can't I help other women? That is my goal: to help many other women."
]]>One of the goals of the campaign is to increase the number of women who understand their rights and can effectively defend them as Adelina Ortiz did. To help educate the next generation, the campaign developed a program for teachers and schoolchildren in 2007 that teaches young people about how to prevent gender violence and what to do if they are attacked.
"We used to talk about gender equity here," says Patricia Jovel. "But never gender violence." Jovel is the director of a school participating in this new initiative in El Progreso, a village perched on the impossibly steep Quetzaltepeque volcano outside San Salvador. The school, where 850 students from 6 to 16 years old attend classes in two half-day groups, is a collection of six cinderblock classrooms topped by metal sheet roofing on either side of a terraced concrete courtyard sloping down the mountainside. It is a beehive of activity after classes, as without any level area for a playground, the students play tag around the central courtyard in the brisk mountain air. Jovel says the young women who sometimes have to walk home in the dark after school are now better equipped to fend off the young men offering drinks and cigarettes to them. "Thank God there have been no rapes," she says.
The students have learned their lessons well: Karla Sanchez, 15, says it is a matter of her basic rights. "Everyone must respect our rights as children, girls, youth. We all have the same rights, and no one can violate them. And if something should happen, we know we can tell our parents, our teachers, or adults we trust. They are here to help us," she explains patiently. And if these people can't help, she knows where to go. She lists a number of institutions where she can turn for protection: the Human Rights Office; the National Police; and the Salvadoran Institute for the Advancement of Women, known as ISDEMU. As she leaves, Sanchez articulates one essential idea about reporting gender violence: "We should not be afraid of what people say."
In 2007, this pilot project in 53 schools exposed 25,000 students to the key messages of the campaign and trained 1,000 students and 1,000 teachers. The teachers now have incorporated violence prevention into their curriculum, and they work with the trained students. The pilot was supported by the Ministry of Education and was such a success that the minister decided to incorporate it into the public school curriculum nationwide.
Sustained pressure to change societal attitudes toward women is a slow process. One effective way to question long-held ideas and beliefs is to educate those entrusted with defending the rights of women, protecting them in the community, and helping them if they are attacked or injured. These include public officials like police officers, judges, public health officials and doctors, and social workers. The campaign organized a formal training program at the University of Central America (UCA) in 2005, and 45 people attended.
Maritza de Vasquez, a psychologist at the family court in the city of San Marcos, just outside San Salvador, says this training has helped her assist the many women who come through her office. De Vasquez says that women are hearing the messages of the campaign and are taking action to protect themselves. In the steady stream of domestic violence and divorce cases she sees, there is a different attitude. "Women take the opportunity to come here and talk about their situation they come here right away to denounce it," she says. "They are expressing their rights more openly now."
Back in Ahuachapan, Ortiz grows corn and raises sheep to support her children and grandchildren. He husband is in jail awaiting a hearing. "I'd rather see him in prison than anywhere else," Ortiz says. It was her participation in a sheep-raising program run by one of Oxfam America's partners, Association of Salvadoran Agriculturalists (AGROSAL), that exposed Ortiz to the human rights training that helped her defend her own life and protect her children. She points out that in all her training to become a health worker, no one ever educated her about domestic violence or how to prevent it. "The training taught me that women have rights and people are obligated to respect them," Ortiz says. "This made me act, to look for help, and thank God I found it."
]]>Although 83.3 percent of the population considers rape to be a crime, 16.7 percent still denies it. This is an alarmingly high percentage which is then reflected in the high rate of rapes. In its 2005 report on crimes (through November), the Attorney General's office reported 2,296 registered cases of rape, sexual aggression and statutory rape. 40.2 percent of the people polled affirm that the place where these types of crimes most often take place is within the home—a place believed to be among the safest for women, boys and girls—and that the person who most often commits the crime is the step father (58.3 percent).
If the previous information sounds alarming, the panorama gets even worse. Seventy percent of those polled believe that the National Civilian Police (PNC) shows little interest in the rape cases that are presented to them, and 20 percent think the PNC could care less. At the same time, the PNC is one of the agencies where people most often go to denounce an act of violence. This was shown by another study done by the Human Rights Ombudswoman's office, which was also supported by Oxfam America.
This study, in addition to asking about the treatment that women receive in the different institutions of the State, also investigated the situation of gender violence within these very institutions. As well as a high rate of sexual harassment, there is a high degree of discrimination in the way women are treated and in opportunities that exist for them. Furthermore, the study reveals salary inequality between men and women. It highlights that although most of the women have a university degree, they usually don't denounce sexual harassment for fear of losing their job or other acts of revenge. Harassers operate with an alarming degree of impunity. In only 3 percent of the cases where harassment was denounced were the perpetrators fired or transferred.
The Human Rights Ombudswoman's Office convened many public functionaries from the aforementioned offices in order to share the results and said they would follow up.
]]>In any society, developing or not, women are likely to be poorer, less educated, and less empowered than men. Oxfam recognizes women should be valued equally and enabled to reach their potential. What’s more, research has shown that when women earn income, they are more likely than men to spend it on family welfare. And when women are educated, they make decisions that benefit their families and influence their communities.
In the pages that follow, you'll read about how Oxfam is targeting the laws in Mozambique and the gender violence in El Salvador that severely disadvantage women. You'll also learn how Oxfam is equipping women to mediate peace in West Africa and to grow the income of their families. In every case, when it comes to empowering women, men are an equal part of the equation. Oxfam is striving to shape societies that not only permit women to be contributors, but societies that recognize that if they don't seize upon what women can offer, they are failing to leverage one of their most valuable assets.
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