Sunday, July 10, 2011

On a serious note




My mom has been begging me to "show the other side of Peru" on my blog "so people know you aren't just having fun!" (Like riding buses.) I've told her that I like to keep things lighthearted and slip in something intelligent from time to time, like a trick. Lamentably, however, mom as a point, and today's post is going to be heavy on the serious and light on the fun. I hope that you will stick around and read about the state of Peru, and why I'm here in spite of (and because of) it.

To start: I've seen slums before--I've been to Zambia, ranked 150th out of 169 countries, according to the 2010 UN Human Development Index; and I've spent two summers working in the bateyes of the Dominican Republic, which are essentially 'slums' if one abides by the generally accepted definition.

However, the slums (which is a yucky word, isn't it?) of Lima astounded me. I first saw them on my fifth day in Peru when Gloria and her family took me outside the city for some sight-seeing and lunching. We had made it to the south side of Lima where it suddenly became obvious that Lima in the desert-- There were enormous sand dunes, probably 300 feet tall, towering on the left side of the autopista. On these sand dunes were what I would guess to be more than around 2 million shacks, stacked one on top of the other for as far and as high as the eye could see. (Think Juarez, Mexico, for those of you who have been unfortunate enough to pass through El Paso.) However, unlike Juarez or the DR or even [what I saw of] Zambia, these shacks seemed to go on limitlessly. For a city that has to certify buildings as "Safe Zones in Case of Earthquakes" (many of which seem questionably 'seguro'), it doesn't seem like it should be legal for these giant sand dunes to be zoned for any sort of structure, especially human beings' dwellings. It seems unethical.

Jesús Maria, my neighborhood in Lima, is considered middle class by Lima standards; by US standards, it's lower middle class, upper lower class. However, because I had a bit of a reference point for what poor is, I thought it was pretty great! That's why in all of my blog posts, I go on and on about how beautiful and clean the city is... And also partly why I was so flabbergasted to see that this whole other city exists within the city. [It's one thing to know something and another to see it.]

Urbanization is just the direction in which the world is moving. Kind of like how humans increasingly rely on robots for love and friendship. (Seriously. I saw a documentary about it on Nat Geo, and it was disturbing.) Urbanization is also a primary cause for the astounding growth of Lima's slums. In Peru, and most places, urbanization occurs because the jobs are in the cities--or at least that's what people think. In Lima's case, people have flocked to it from the campo, only to find that jobs are less plentiful than they were told. Those people, having sold their land and possessions to make the move, are forced into underdeveloped areas [shanty towns] and take extremely low-paying jobs (if they can find them) to make ends meet. Those 2+ million people are currently living on less than $2/day. And that's just Lima.

Peru's economy has been growing pretty steadily over the last 18 years (with two exceptions--1998 and 2009, because of El Niño and the global financial crisis, respectively). In fact, Peru had one of the fastest growing economies in the world in 2007 and 2008 (when it had the greatest GDP growth in the world). This growth has manifested in real changes for Peru, like electricity, color tv, and internet (YouTube!) in the campo, and a 19% decline in the official poverty rate.

However, a 35% poverty rate still persists [poverty is defined as living on less than $2/day]; the informal sector (like ladies selling gum to tourists on the sidewalk) is enormous; and Peru's dependence on the export of commodities (like silver and steel) leave it subject to highly unstable world prices.


Informal food carts on the side of the autopista between Arequipa and Puno


Informal craft booths in the middle of nowhere. (You may recognize it as an informal bus stop from the ride from hades.)

Peru, and Lima especially, are notoriously unequal in terms of development. (As I've tried to illustrate above.) Some people have seen the bulk of the fruits of the economy's growth, and 35% have yet to see much of it at all.

Side of the autopista/front of a community:




This inequality is what lead Peru to elect Ollanta Humala as its next president last month; Humala is set to take office on July 28, one of Peru's independence days. (What will you guys being doing for July 28th?) Humala was formerly openly linked with Hugo Chavez (who has cancer, btw, for those of you know don't get much international news), and lost in the 2006 election in part because of those ties. So, for his 2011 campaign, Humala adopted a more moderate appearance, while sticking to his anti-poverty campaign; with this strategy (and possibly a generous sum of money from Chavez--see below), Humala defeated Keiko Fujimori, daughter of former somewhat controversial but effective Peruvian president Alberto Fujimori.

[This is getting dense, so what it boils down to is this: Peru voiced in this last election that it is tired of the inequality, and is willing to risk putting into office a president who will turn out to be nuts like Chavez in order to try and find a solution.]

All around are remnants of the election; in Peru, instead of utilizing social networking sites to campaign [Obama], candidates have their names painted onto the sides of brick walls and mountains. Keiko ran a strong campaign, and I see her name virtually everywhere. [In fact, you can look at previous posts and see her name in several photos, just by coincidence.] Everyone I've asked about Humala has expressed quite a bit of apprehension at his taking office; there are rumors abound that Chavez funded his campaign, and that he's now going to have to succumb to Chavez' far-left pressures once he takes office/turn into a crazy dictator. We'll see...


One of Keiko's ads on a storefront

Others, though, like the rural poor of Puno, are in favor of president-elect Humala. These individuals feel like he will help bring back to them some of the profits that are being mined from land that they and their ancestors have inhabited since before Pizarro came on the scene, sword and rosary a' swingin'. However, opponents point out that often indigenous peoples don't support large-scale mining projects because their own informal mining (which is often linked to cocaine production) benefits them directly and circumnavigates international investors/profit sharers.

And speaking of mining, until last week there were some pretty heavy protests going on in the Puno region regarding a Canadian silver mine that was set to be built in the area. Since early May, roads were blocked, windows were broken, the airport was taken over at one point, and five rioters were killed by riot police. (All the while, I was in Lima unsure if I would make it to Puno--I certainly wasn't going to go while the protests were happening, though my sources tell me that on the whole, they were more annoying than dangerous to the average individual.)


Miners striking in Arequipa, last week


Riot police, just in case. (Thankfully, they were pretty unnecessary.
Many of the "protesters" were unarmed children.)

On the one hand, I understand that people willing to die for a cause obviously feel incredibly justified in their views. On the other hand, I understand the perspective of the rest of the country (and the international markets), which is that Peru's economic growth is going to be severely hindered if each time a foreign mining company tries to get a contract, the region revolts. (After two months, to appease the protesters, current President Garcia revoked the Canadian mining company's permits; now the company is suing the government of Peru.)

And the protesting doesn't just hurt mining. Several of the women at the communal bank meetings on Friday said that business had been horrible since the protests began; it is currently peak tourist season and no tourists want to vacation in a riot. (The protests have officially ended, and the US embassy declared Puno a perfectly safe place to travel last week, right before I left Lima.)

Windows broken out at a couple of banks in town by protesters in the last two months:



(I'd like to think they were protesting Transformers 3,
but I'm pretty sure this one was because of the mines, too.)

As you can see, the politics and poverty of Peru are deeply interrelated and bastante complicated. It's hard to sift through the opinions and find what is really the truth--if it's possible at all. I'd like to think, as with Obama in the US, that the leaders are doing their best for the most people that they can; unfortunately, the way of our flawed world is that there will be poverty and there will be inequality.


Dreadlocks dog

That said, I'm here in Puno fighting for a little more equality. On Friday my surveying partner, Sandra, and I visited our first two communal bank meetings to interview clients of Manuela Ramos to help us effectively design the student loan program for the region. It was really cool to see microfinance in action, and incredibly inspiring that the women were so excited and willing to participate in the surveys. We had projected that maybe 10 of the 25 women at the meetings would participate; we collected 17 surveys! When I thanked the women at the end of the second meeting for their participation, they kept insisting that I was the one who deserved the thanks for trying to bring this service to them, their children, and their grandchildren. They are so hopeful that we will see it through to completion.

Several young women in the communal banks are concurrently enrolled in school and use earnings from their microenterprises to fund their education. It's incredibly exciting to think that we could help them cut out that middle step, and make things a little bit easier for them while they pursue higher education. Though Puno is cold and a little lonely so far, those two meetings on Friday made it all worth it; these lovely, sweet, hard-working women and their children deserve the opportunity to pull themselves out of poverty, and I wholeheartedly feel that making post-secondary education more accessible is one of the best ways to help them in that.


First communal bank meeting was held at a pre-school; this is the view from the back yard of the preschool. Dripping Springsians: Remember the rumors that that one pre-school on RR12 had the devil under the playground? Can you imagine the rumors if this preschool had been in our town?


Bathroom at the preschool. When they told me it was in the back,
I went to the building in the back. I thought that this was a tool shed.


Then my second lap around the yard in search of the bathroom,
I opened the tool shed and found this. That's the toilet.


View out my window from hostel #2 in Puno.


Street in Puno

Kids outside of Lima walking home from school:






A concluding thought: There's a term in economics, pareto optimal, which describes a state at which nothing can be done to help someone without hurting another. Take the redistribution of land, for example--some people benefit, but only because others give up something. Sometimes, I'm afraid that the world is generally in a bit of a state of pareto optimality and the only way to really help another is to willingly give up a part of oneself.

Thanks for sticking with me.

love,
audrey



*Photo at the very top is the street in front of my third (and final) hostel. Third time's the charm!

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