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November 5, 2007 • VOL. 45, NO. 19 • Oakland, CA |
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| Nicaragua: the continuing
struggle |
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The flight from Miami to Managua, Nicaragua, took only
two and one-half hours, half the time and distance from San Francisco
to Miami. After watching a short cloudburst turn the streets of the Nicaraguan
capital into raging rivers, we drove to the San José Protector
Orphanage about a half-hour outside the city. Steam-like vapor poured
from the car’s ventilation ducts as the air-conditioning squeezed
the drenching humidity out of the thick air.
A visit by a delegation such as ours is a big event at the orphanage. Aloma and the other staff members sit at a head table in the main hall. The girls speak to them about their gratitude. They pray, they sing, and they put on their finest dresses and dance. We all receive handmade gifts: candles decorated with coffee beans, and small hand prints with written slogans of thanks and hope. Despair smothers hope For people living in dire poverty, despair smothers all hope. We visited the La Chureca garbage dump on the west side of Managua. Here thousands of vultures swarm through thick, acrid smoke rising out of burning and smoldering mounds of garbage. Thousands more vultures pick through garbage on the ground. They also compete with a herd of cattle that have been put here to graze on the waste of a city.
In the midst of this searing image of hell, hundreds of men, women, and children, many in bare feet, scramble to find their own scraps of food and bits of recyclables. Aloma quoted a man who had worked for 40 years as a scavenger in the garbage dump — “I never dream anymore.” A city garbage truck drives into the dump and the fittest and swiftest men run and jump on, riding along until it stops. They want to be the first to use their makeshift picks and bare hands to sift through the fresh load of refuse. Seventeen-year-old Edwind has been coming to La Chureca every day for three years. He works here from six in the morning until five at night. He earns $3 per day. “I’ve been here five times and it still challenges my eyes,” says Aloma. “I keep thinking it can’t be real.”
Half of Nicaragua’s 5.5 million people live in extreme poverty. Not only is the country the third poorest in the western hemisphere, the CIA World Fact book claims that it has one of the greatest inequalities in income distribution in the world with 45 percent of total income being earned by just 10 percent of the population. Unlike in rich countries, the poorest countries do not have the social safety nets; when the poor in Nicaragua fall, they hit the ground hard. The Christmas earthquake of 1972 leveled 90 percent of Managua and killed over 10,000 people. So inept was the government of Anastasio Somoza Debaye, and so corrupt, that the international relief aid flowed into the pockets of family and friends. Managua languished then and has never truly been rebuilt. The Sandinista revolution that overthrew decades of corrupt Somoza family rule started to create real social change by combating illiteracy and disease. But all progress came to a halt when the Reagan administration began funding the “contra” guerilla fighters who attacked social and economic infrastructure and led to the victory for a U.S.-backed government in the 1990 elections. Almost one-fifth of Nicaragua’s population was left homeless.
When Hurricane Mitch hit in 1998, killing 2,400, the new government that had spent most of the 1990’s dismantling social programs could not effectively respond to the disaster. Northwest of Managua, the colonial city of Leon has long been viewed as the liberal and intellectual center of Nicaragua. Inside the hauntingly beautiful Cathedral of the Assumption the renowned poet Ruben Dario is entombed under a statue of a lion. As our group ate lunch in a small corner restaurant next to the cathedral, young children came by to beg for food. These children were too hungry to be picky and ate any scrap offered from our plates. The food they received from us was critical for their very survival. Past Leon is the town of Chinandega. Here Nelson Rodriguez, a policeman, holds his two-year-old son in his arms. Rodriguez’s shirt is neatly pressed; he wears his gun and badge proudly. Yet the house he stands in is made from corrugated scrap metal — a one-room squatter’s shack he shares with his wife and two children.
With no windows or adequate ventilation these shacks turn into a hothouse in the summer tropical sun. There is no running water and no sewage disposal. There is no security; thieves can walk in and steal what little the families might have while they are away. There is also no stability. At any moment the landowner might arrive with a bulldozer and wipe out the entire community. It is so hot in Officer Leorgina Centeno’s shack that it is hard to tell apart her tears from the sweat on her face as she holds her two children. “I am thankful for God’s grace that moves the hearts of others to help the needy,” she says as she wipes back tears of gratitude. Thanks to a housing program funded by Florida-based Food for the Poor, these two police families will soon be moving into new housing. According to Aloma, “a home is the first step. When they get a home they have the security to leave the kids with grandparents and the possessions are safe so both parents can seek work.”
Since 2004, Food for the Poor has worked with the American-Nicaraguan Foundation to build homes in Leon for families with the greatest need. Originally the plan was to build 35 homes, but by 2007 they had built more than 1900 homes, as well as a school and a community center. Walking down “Calle Nueva Esperanza,” a street appropriately named New Hope, it is easy to see the pride the residents have in their new homes. Many homes have neat tended gardens thanks to a program that helps residents to grow vegetables and fruits. At the center of the community is a school where children can play outside during a school recess. Inside the classrooms children raise their hands to answer questions. Now that they have the stability of a home and an education, they are just like any other kids: joyous, energetic, and eager to learn. Taking a multi-faceted approach When Monsignor Louis Peña first started his ministry at La Chureca garbage dump 11 years ago, he would see hundreds of children picking through the garbage. He decided to take a multi-faceted approach — providing health care, feeding programs, and education. Through his efforts, he has helped many children get out of the dump. For the past six years the John Cordisco Education and Feeding Center has provided 350 children a day with education programs and a nutritious lunch.
Now when he visits the dump he sees only a few dozen children. He speaks with pride about one of the first children helped by the center who graduated last year from high school. We traveled to another part of Managua for the dedication ceremony of the new Colegio Santa Teresita. A guard holding a large shotgun was the only indication of the harsh drug-infested neighborhood outside the gates. Inside, children — safe, secure, and joyous — prepared for the opening celebrations, During the ceremony Aloma spoke to the children and nuns about our visit to the garbage dump that morning. Not a single child fidgeted or seemed distracted. They all listened, seeming to comprehend that if it were not for the generous support of people providing aid through organizations like Food for the Poor and the American-Nicaraguan Foundation they might still be out on the streets, foraging for their existence. Instead, they have the joy of being children, the luxury of an education, and new hope for the future. |
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