la gente unida jamás será vencida

as i said in my last post, there were giant protests across the country last week against proposed education reforms.   i was strongly advised not to go.  i debated with myself for a while, but finally i just thought, screw it.  if i followed every state department warning, i'd spend my whole life locked in a pupi little apartment in the north, with a private security guard holding a machine gun at the gate.  and that's no way to live.  or experience colombia.  that's not why i'm here.  if i always did what they said, i'd probably not even be here in the first place.  and anyway, this is an issue that's pretty important to me.  and that i'm kind of invested in, as a teacher in colombia.  so i went.  i haven't been to a protest in months, and i've never been to a protest like this.

 

there were rumors that it might turn violent.  warnings that the FARC and ELN rebels might infiltrate the protests and incite violence to stick it to the government.  apparently they've done this before at protests.  but these rumors seemed to me absolute poppycock, even (and maybe especially) because they came from the government's intelligence agency.  the government tends to take the convenient witch-hunt approach of accusing anyone who disagrees with them of being rebels.  it's so handy for suppressing popular dissent.

there were also some worries because at some student protests the week before, they chucked homemade explosives about.  not good, guys.  protests are great, but violent ones, not so much.  plus it totally degrades your legitimacy.  but i didn't think this one would turn violent--the organizers and student leaders had promised a peaceful protest, and this one was so big and well organized and observed that i trusted they'd stick to it.

i was a little torn at first, because in some ways, this wasn't my fight.  but in other ways, it was.  i am a teacher in colombia--i have a responsibility to stand up for the rights of other teachers and work to improve their working conditions, even if i won't get those benefits myself.  but mostly, it was because of my kiddos.  i love those little tykes, even and especially the troublesome ones.  and having the opportunity of higher education--whether or not they wind up going to college or technical school--makes a huge difference in their motivation during primary education, and even in their outlook on life. but if little alejandra knows that she has no opportunities in life other than running a hair clip stall in the market like her parents, what's her incentive to put effort into studying english?  or to anything in school, for that matter, beyond maybe basic arithmetic.  that's bad news for me and for her.

it was a teacher work day, so there were no classes--i think that's why they scheduled the protest when they did.  at around 7 am, i was grading some papers when i heard loud shouts, chanting, and horns blaring on the street.  i rushed outside half-dressed to see what the commotion was, but people were too distracted to notice my pjs.  a crowd of students bearing banners was marching and shouting and running through the street.  they took up the whole 4-lane highway, much to the dismay of commuters.  hordes of police officers on motorcycles followed them.  "not nearly as many as the last one..." commented my host brother, who'd come out to see the fuss too.

i headed down for the central square, the plaza de simon bolivar.  it was pretty packed, with a big stage at one end where union and advocacy leaders were giving speeches.  they were pretty interesting, too--i learned a lot more about the issues with the education system in colombia.  and it was inspiring to see such passion from so many people.

the plaza was also packed with street vendors, which seemed a bit odd at first but i suppose was quite economically logical.  mixing with the shouts of support to the speakers and chanted political slogans were calls of "fresh orange juice--just 400 pesos!  chicharones!  papas fritas! gaseosas y agua frío!"  people pushed carts filled with barrels of fresh-squeezed juice, tart salted mangoes drenched in lime juice, sizzling skewers of dubious-looking meat, crispy empañadas and arepas, trays of deep-fried pork rind, and churros glistening with sugar and hot oil.  i think brown student groups could take a leaf from colombia's book--put all that on the main green and you're sure to get a bunch more people at your protest--one thing's for certain, college students are always up for good (and preferably free) food.

after a while, i went to check out the marches.  there were 5 coming from various parts of the city, all converging on the plaza.  some of them had been blocked by the police (bad form, guys).  but others had made it through.  there were so many people! they just kept coming and coming down the street with their signs and flags and banners.  people lined the streets cheering them on, joining in the chants.  some people from the top floor of an office building came to the window, waved and shouted their support, and started throwing confetti out the window like it was a parade.

it started to rain, but they remained unfazed.  "¡abajo, abajo, abajo a la privatización!"  i joined in with their chant, smiling wryly as i remembered learning that word in spanish class almost 10 years ago with that infantile rhyme: "izquierda, derecha, delante detrás. cerca de lejos de, y algo más. ABAJO, arriba, enfrente, encima. y ahora, muchachos, se acaba la rima!" who knew that one day i'd be putting that knowledge to this use? ¡la gente unida jamás será vencida!" that has a much nicer ring to it in spanish than in english.

we continued along the road towards the museo del oro and the national bank.  these were bigger streets now, and they were thickly lined with police in full riot gear--big shields, bullet-proof vests, stern helmets, guns, batons, bandoliers of teargas.  private security guards stood in front of the bigger shops and building.  at the smaller shops, people pulled down their metal gratings and peered nervously out at the scene. some students went up to empty walls and started graffitiing political slogans and opposition messages against the reforms.  a bit further down the road a few teenage boys got into an argument with the police.  as the argument got more heated, the crowd got more nervous.  then the boys started waving machetes at the police.  yikes.

i am pretty terrified of machetes.  perhaps it's because the LRA rebels, who have been on my mind a lot over the past 5 years, are known as the tong tong (chop chop) after the machetes they use.  i remember when i was in rwanda, heading towards kigali from the ugandan border, i saw a group of teenage fellows on their way to work in the tea fields, holding machetes.  it's been almost ten years, but it still sent shivers down my spine.  and i did not feel much better now.

deciding this might be a good time to peace, i went down a side street to the broad boulevard near the museum.  it's a lovely little place, full of cafes and restaurants and shops--a nice place to hang out.  but it had a somewhat sinister feel today--imposing black tanks with dark windows and bullet proof plating were parked in front of the church, a few meters from the marchers.  they had those triangular plough shaped things at the front like trains have for knocking aside cattle.  except these were for knocking aside people.  the street was packed with police, all geared up and looking ready for battle.

a handful of protesters turned down a side street and advanced with their banner, painted on an old bed sheet.  almost immediately, a phalanx of police converged and started towards them.  they made for quite an intimidating sight, marching sternly towards the students.  they were in even more riot gear and armor than the other police, and looked rather like stormtroopers--and not the sort of goofy ones in episode 4, the super creepy ones in episode 3 all dressed in black and ready to do darth veder's bidding.  the students held their ground, and the crowd murmured nervously.  this might turn into a showdown, and it could get ugly.  however, as the stormtroopers neared, the students slowly backed away and dissolved into the crowd.

then suddenly we heard shots fired and an explosion, there were screams, and we ran.  out of the corner of my eye i saw a plume of white smoke rising up from the crowd of protesters not far away.  you always see that in movies--a BOOM and then everyone scatters, but this was the first time i'd ever experienced it.  it's the most instinctual thing in the world--you hear the shot and you're halfway down the street before your mind even realizes what your body is doing.  i sprinted past a group of police and security guards--they were running away and barricading themselves in the bus station, pulling down the metal grating to block the door.  oh great, thanks for protecting the people.

eventually, we slowed down and paused, listened.  silence.  i had no idea what had just happened.  no one did.  who had fired the shots?  was it even gunfire?  it sounded almost like a cannon, but what is this, 1812?  were people hurt?--dead?  what had catalyzed the situation from an uneasy stalemate to all-out explosions?  slowly, the chanting started up again.  we looked at each other, made a decision. "you're an idiot.  and such an adrenaline junkie," i told myself as i crept back towards the main road.

there were a few more explosions, all further off in the crowd.  we fled and returned like waves crashing and receding along the shore.  i found out later that police had fired into the crowd something called "debilitating grenades" (that's the best translation i could come up with)--apparently some kind of explosives filled with a temporarily stunning gas.  it sounds rather like tear gas.  6 people were injured--not too severely, but still.  there were similar incidents in other cities, a girl was beaten by police in medellín, etc.  but by all accounts, it was a relatively calm protest--at least as calm as a protest can be in colombia.  which was an interesting culture shock.  i've been to a lot of protests, but i'm so accustomed to the right to protest, the assurance that everything will be fine.  it was interesting to experience a protest where people were actually risking something, and coming forward anyway because they felt so strongly about the issue.

education reforms

there was a giant protest in bogotá last week with the teachers, university students, and education administrators. hundreds of thousands of people protested in various cities around the country.  now i'm no expert on the issue, i've only had it explained to me or read about it in spanish, but as i understand it, this is the problem:

government is instituting a package of education reforms, which seems to be designed mostly to help with the budget.  of course everyone's tightening their belts these days, but in my opinion this is the wrong way to go about it.  as often happens when governments try to save money (ahem republicans in washington), they cut social services first, and this falls hardest on those who can least afford it--the poor.  so they're privatizing a large fraction of the community colleges and public universities.

now privatization is often good for development, and can lead to greater efficiency. but in this case the result is this: the poor are going to lose almost all access to tertiary education.  what's the result?  quality education will continue to become increasingly concentrated in the hands of the wealthy.  colombia's already heavily unequal society will become even more divided.  the rich will get richer, the poor will get poorer. not good.  it is also thought that with privatization, the universities will loose their focus on public service and the common good--community colleges in colombia have traditionally focused on research, curricula, and projects that will help improve the lot of the common people in colombia, not just earn more cash for the school.  all that could change soon.

the protests are also calling for better conditions for teachers in public schools.  teacher salaries are low in colombia (just like in the US) and there's a gignormous gap between the salaries at public and private schools.  there's a huge problem with retention of good teachers in public schools--they can make so much more money at private schools, and the conditions and resources are so much better, most teachers light out of the public school system as quick as they can.  so you wind up with the least trained, least effective, and least motivated teachers teaching in the roughest schools, the worst neighborhoods, with the fewest resources, for the poorest and most troubled kids in the city.

"Health is a right--it's not negotiable"

the protests are also calling for better healthcare and more union rights for teachers.  lousy conditions on these fronts just further hurt teacher motivation.  and they're calling for better funding for preschool education--which is especially important for children from poor families who aren't exposed to the supplemental education and early childhood development opportunities their wealthier peers are.

 the proposed education reforms will likely most hurt two vulnerable groups in society because of their low economic status: the Displaced people who fled their land because of the war, and the indigenous people and ethnic minorities.  this will further degrade their already low economic and also social status. 

like in the united states, in colombia education often gets the short end of the stick.  whenever something needs to be cut, there's a shortfall somewhere and resources need to be diverted, or something unexpected comes up, you can bet that the education pot is the first one they'll dip into.  like this winter with the floods--of course it was an emergency and the spending was necessary, but a lot of the money came from the education budget.  [incidentally, what is one of the biggest problem faced now by the displaced victims of the floods?  oh, yeah, lack of education infrastructure, and access to quality education...]

anyway, the education budget gradually gets chipped away and doesn't get replenished.  and the tricky thing about cuts to education spending is that it takes a long time to really feel their effects.  it's not like the kiddos are going to vote against you, they're too young, their parents often have other, more immediate problems on their mind.  the real blow won't be felt until maybe a decade later, when the kids graduate with substandard educational background and hurt the economy.  by that time you're well past your term of office.  bloody election cycle.  and it's all compounded by high levels of corruption in government anyway.  congratulations,  you got re-elected by wiggling the budget to favor short-term gains over long term economic and social growth.  you win, but your country loses.

9133 shoes

monday was the international day for landmine awareness and action.  there was a demonstration to mark the day in the main plaza in bogotá (plaza de simon bolivar, where most of the protests happen, and where the state department says i should often avoid).  i didn't realize this until i was reading about it in the paper, but there are more landmine victims in colombia than in any other country in the world besides afghanistan. landmines were banned by the mine ban treaty in 1997, but they continue to affect colombians, particularly in rural areas where the FARC and paramiliaries have been active.

the 9133 shoes displayed in the plaza represent
recorded victims of landmines in colombia since 1990. 870 of them are children's shoes--landmines disproportionately affect children, because they haven't been educated about them, or because they tend to play in areas where adults don't go. this is becoming an even bigger problem as people displaced by the war are finally starting to return to the homes they left.  the fighting may have shifted, but the danger is still there. landmines kill someone every other day in colombia, and since i got here in january, 72 people have been killed.  pretty chilling statistics.

i remember in south sudan seeing the red signs along the main road leading up from the border checkpoint to the market in nimule "danger: landmnes.  do not leave the road."  it was scary to think that just by straying from the path we could, potentially, die.  we passed huts and fields, where people were obviously living off of the main road.  little kids waved at us and screamed "muna!" (white girl).  they lived and played on this potentially mine-riddled land.

the schools where i was researching had NGO posters on the wall describing different types of mines, and how to recognize and avoid them.  i couldn't read them, but i studied them during breaks, just in case.  but the thing is, it's hard to be on your guard like that all the time.  one night my friend and i were perched  on the back of a motorcycle, heading off to a bar on the edge of town where the expats and aid workers hang out, when the driver said "we must take another route." he was a little evasive when we asked why, but eventually said, "the road right by your house, it has been closed off.  they think they have found a landmine and are trying to disable it."  it turned out to be a false alarm, but was still pretty scary.

the first time i heard about landmines, i was in first grade and saw a picture of princess diana with some girls in west africa.  i asked "mommy, why do those girls only have one leg?" and she said it was because of landmines, but i didn't quite get it. i wondered what they did with their extra one when they bought new shoes. the first time i was really exposed to the issue was when i was about 12 and reading this series of  books about afghanistan by deborah ellis. they're pretty great books, especially at presenting the issues to kids--showing children how war impacts children. in the story, the girl's brother has been killed by a landmine.  a girl in the story makes a living crossing minefields, and a boy in the book lost his leg to a mine.


these stories really impacted me.  they were just kids' books, but based on interviews in refugee camps in pakistan.  the idea that kids my age and even younger had to live with the reality that they might just be walking along one day, even well after a war had ended, and then suddenly, BOOM--they'd be dead or terribly maimed... it was frankly terrifying.  this is one of the worst weapons of war--long lasting, deadly, and almost target civilians and children with their indiscriminate destruction.

it was while reading these books that i decided i wanted to be an aid worker.  specifically, that i wanted to work on emergency education for war-affected children.  i remember quite clearly one night i'd stayed up until like 3 am to find out what happened to shauzia and her buddies in the story. and i got this vivid mental picture of myself standing outside a school tent in a refugee camp in pakistan. it was hot and dusty and i was watching the sun set, lost in thought about what had happened that day, and how we would move forward educating these children.  and i was entirely satisfied with what i was doing with my life.  and... well one thing led to another from there. i guess i've always vaguely kept that image in the back of my mind.  it's a good thing my sister had to read this for her book report and recommended it to me, or my life might be very different! but then again, i guess we all have a number of turning points in life, and we all eventually wind up where we're supposed to be.

P.S.  the US has not signed the 1997 international mine ban treaty. big surprise!  the US kind of sucks at signing on to international human rights legislation.  they also haven't ratified the UN convention on the rights of the child (just chillin' like a villain with somalia on the "only countries in the world that have not ratified" list), or the rome statute to join the international criminal court, and they take a sort of "maybe if we feel like it" approach to not funding armies that use child soldiers. but i digress.  there seems to be opposition to the treaty from the military, which tends to oppose anything that might potentially impact what they can and can't do (see: the international criminal court).  obama mentioned over a year ago that maybe we should look into signing the mine ban treaty, but it doesn't seem like a lot of progress has been made on that front.  if you want to do something about that, go HERE to sign a petition or write a letter to your member of congress about it.  thanks, you rock!

picture above: sign in a bus in colombia urging people to respect those with disabilities.  wheelchair, leg blown off by landmine, just your average disabilities.  toto, i've go a feeling we're not in kansas anymore)