From May 2nd until May 23rd I was in Copán Ruinas, Honduras for the fourth
time in 5 years. This lovely little town has become a second home for me, and I
don’t expect that will change anytime in the future. I thought it would be
worthwhile to collect some of my reflections on the changes that have occurred
in the past five years, and specifically why returning is significant for me.
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| My home in Copan. :) |
For
those of you who aren’t familiar with Honduras, it is the often overlooked country
located between Guatemala and Nicaragua. Honduras is a country of 8 million
people where 10 families have almost all of the wealth and power in the
country. It is also (one of) the most lush and beautiful countries in Latin
American, where 50% of the population works in agriculture.
If you are familiar with
Honduras, you probably know that the country has the highest murder rate per
capita in the world. This is a true fact, but taken out of context, it perpetuates
the fear of a “backward culture.” I do not have time for an in depth look at
the history of violence in Honduras, but for those interested Adrienne Pine’s
ethnography Working Hard, Drinking Hard,
is an excellent exposé of
exactly that. Bottom line: my life is more at risk riding my bike on the
streets of London Ontario, than walking in the streets of Copán.
The aforementioned powerful families
exert their control whenever they feel the threats of equality or democracy
knocking at the door. One example of this was the Military Coup coup d'état
in 2009, when the existing President Manuel Zelaya
sought alliances with other “left leaning states” and proposed an increased
minimum wage along with other social security improvements. A new nationalist
government was quickly ushered in by an internationally sanctioned “election.” Things
returned to the status quo, with the additional militarization of the country.
This was followed by the firing of teachers who did not carry the correct party
card, as well as massive funding cuts to schools which further eroded the
quality of education. More recently it was discovered that in the election of
2012, the current president fabricated 50,000 fake votes and also managed to
steal 7 billion lempiras from the social services department. International
discipline has been non-existent.
If you’re wondering why these
types of horrific actions get little-to-no attention from neighbouring
democracies like Canada and the USA; look no further than the recent Charter
City example. In short: A Charter City was an idea birthed inside Libertarian think
tanks who proposed the idea of self-governed cities inside of a nation state
owned by wealthy foreign governments and corporations. In other words, Honduras
would sell a large chunk of land to a private corporation or foreign government
and in-so-doing forfeit any legal rights, or political authority in that
region. That is, once the economic zone was set up by foreign investors, they
would also have their own police force, tax system, and legal structure. Once a
Honduran citizen enters into this city their rights and protections as a
Honduran citizen would be irrelevant. It was the neo-liberal dream world for
“development,” no pesky rules to follow, just freedom of capital. Which is
exactly why in 2012, the Supreme Court of Honduras wisely voted the Charter
Cities to be unconstitutional by a vote of 4-1. Hooray for institutional
protection of human dignity! Unfortunately, the same powers that I mentioned
earlier quickly sacked 4 members of the Supreme Court, and just last year the
second branding of Charter Cities passed through the courts. Who benefits from
this proposal? I will give you a hint, it will not be Honduras, but it might be
your pension plan.
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| Satire on Charter Cities |
Zooming
into a more micro level, I will provide some background for those unfamiliar
with the town of Copán Ruinas. Copán is a relatively small town of 5000
people nestled beside one of the largest Mayan ruins in Latin America and a
mere 12 kilometers from the Guatemalan border. Rough cobble stone streets
navigate, at times, shockingly steep inclines and every path inevitably leads
back to the town center, AKA “Parque Central.” The people of the town are
overwhelmingly friendly, and I have experienced their incredible hospitality
every time I stay there. Surrounding the town into the mountains is a plethora
of “aldayas” (or rural villages) where the people are often indigenous Mayan
Chorti and their livelihoods center around small scale agriculture. Over the
years, the region has become increasingly dependent on international tourism.
This change has been celebrated by neo-liberal economic development for decades:
“One of the most important things a poor country needs to do is develop a
thriving tourist industry and jobs will be created, wealth will increase, and
roses will bloom without water.” Not only is there a patronising tone to this
kind of development that demands that the poor serve the rich in order to
“improve their lot,” there are other issues that need attention.
Consider
that fact that Copán currently has 45 hotels and over 25 restaurants in a town
of 5000 people. The only possible way to sustain these services is a steady
stream of international tourists passing through the town. In 2010, the first
time I was in Copán, the streets were relatively busy during the week days, and
they were always full of “gringos” from Friday to Sunday. Every time I have
returned the town since, it has been quieter and quieter. So much so, that I
was caught off guard when I spotted another “gringo” in the streets this time.
Most restaurants sit mostly empty, and hotel vacancy rates are absurdly high.
Many of these businesses are family owned and operated, and some have survived
because they own the property and buildings in full. However, for many who took
out loans to pay for their properties, or even for just improvements to their
hotel, they struggle to make the bank payments, especially when interest rates
hover between 21% - 26%. What is even more frustrating for these families is
that this economic dry spell has nothing to do with sub-par service, but
everything to do with macro-political and economic rhetoric in Canada and the
USA. That is, the continuation of trade policies that act to destabilize
Honduras as capital is extracted and sent to foreign lands, or the demonizing
of any left-of-center leader in the country. For years now, Honduras has been a
“no travel zone” for both Canada and the United States. This is usually based
on the high murder rate or political corruption in the country, but it fails to
consider their context. Furthermore, as I mentioned earlier in the Charter City
example, the current political state of Honduras is frequently propped up by
Canadian and American enterprise, and government. Our governments have little
interest in addressing the rampant drug trafficking crisis, which is directly
caused by “war on drug” policies in the North. The more drug use is criminalized,
the more demand there is for illegal narcotic trafficking which claims
thousands of young lives every year. Nor do we find any disapproval coming from
our governments about the way in which the current ruling party in Honduras
holds power. This story is not new. Our relationship with Latin America has
been repeating itself for centuries. An excellent telling of this story is the
late Eduardo Galeano’s book “Open Veins of Latin America,” despite a publish
date of 1970, the content remains relevant today.
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| Ixbalanque, a beautiful local Spanish school that relies on tourism thriving. |
Before I
go further, I should address the protest of many who will say something along
the lines of: “But Richie, what other options do these people have? Isn’t a job
or some tourism better than no formal employment at all? If they don’t like it,
shouldn’t they just move somewhere else, or choose to work elsewhere?” I will
admit that in some cases the answer could be yes to these questions but, the
vast majority of the time, it is far more complicated. For example, to say
there is no other option is far too often a copout to avoid thinking about the structural
poverty and oppression that exists in the global economy to our benefit. We
have the luxury of casually stating: “Well these other people are in a bad
situation, they might as well do something that MIGHT make it slightly less
bad,” and we completely disregard that the current bad situation may in fact be
the fault of Northern-Hemisphere policy-making. The second question assumes
that any form of economic development must be good, regardless of the often
irreversible social, cultural, or ecological costs associated with it. Finally,
expecting humans to act in the same manner as free flowing capital is a
dangerous elevation of the free market doctrine, and a slap in the face to
local community ties to people and place. If anything, capital should move to
where people and communities decide, not the other way around.
The bottom line in any
conversation about development should be that the answer is not simply more
capital, less tax, or perhaps the implementation of so-called “best practises.”
If you hear a proposed development solution that will work universally, please
disregard it. These things can sometimes be solutions but they always need to
be context specific, historically grounded, and more often than not focused on structural justice.
On a more positive note the
organizations we had the privilege of working with, and more importantly the
people, at Casita Copán (http://www.casitacopan.org/) and Urban Promise
Honduras (http://urbanpromisehonduras.org/) are doing truly wonderful things in
the context of overwhelming hopelessness.
Casita Copán started 4 years ago
as an orphanage for abandoned children in the community. However, this was
never the end goal for the founder Emily Monroe. She quickly discovered that most
of the children were not without family, but simply that the family could not afford
to care for them. In other words, these kids were victims of poverty, not
orphans without parents. This lead to the vision of building “Casitas,” which
would be a permanent home for these kids, and would avoid the common downfalls
of institutional care, which often include serious attachment issues and a lack
of social development skills. This year marked the beginning of this vision
coming to fruition, the children now have a home to return to in the evening,
and the Mothers (surrogate or biological) have the financial, and educational
support from Casita to hold these families together. (For more information go
here: http://www.casitacopan.org/casitas-homes/).
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| Completed mural @ Casita |
There has been opposition to the
very premise of Casita Copán from many locals who have accepted that those who
are poor, desolate, and disabled are not worth any investment. In a country
where it seems like most investments benefit a few families, the drug cartel,
or foreign companies, it isn’t shocking for such pessimism to sink in. Which
makes an even more compelling and beautiful story to watch as it successfully unfolds.
In fact, most of the staff working at Casita Copán, including the members on
the Board of Directors, are local community members, something that may have
seemed impossible before this all began. Also, kids that have been pulled out
of corrupt care centers have shown incredible improvements with proper love and
support. I could say a lot more about this organization, but one thing that
stands out for me is how quickly Emily says: “We have been wrong many times
before,” and that “no one person can speak on behalf of all ‘Hondurans, there
is too much diversity!” This further proves the importance of context sensitive
and adaptable development work.
Finally, Urban Promise Honduras
started in a somewhat similar manner, over 8 years ago. The organization has
numerous operations globally, but each one is run very independently. The main
focus is to help build confidence in children who often lack solid influence in
their life. Typically, that takes the shape of an after school program, or a
summer camp for kids. However, it does not take long to see that the workers at
Urban Promise go well beyond “programming.” They know the kids personally, and
spend endless amounts of time “after hours” pouring time and energy into their
lives. Unsurprisingly, the kids often become youth leaders in their pre-teen
years, and some have even started working full-time with the organization once
they have finished their schooling.
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| One of the schools that hosted the UPH camps. |
It is incredible to see how
extraordinarily important some seemingly small actions can be for these kids.
Simply sitting beside and encouraging a student to complete their reading homework
(or my personal favourite: math homework) can revitalize these children to
return confidently to a frequently unsupportive educational environment. It is
the act of being present consistently, day in and day out, and being community-specific
that has made the difference for an organization like Urban Promise. Each
after school camp has a slightly different feel to it because they have been
shaped, and grown within the neighbourhood, rather than just brought in as a
cookie-cutter program. When our group joins we are not filling any gaps because
the foundations have been laid with hours of love and commitment. We have the
privilege for a short period of time to come along side and assist in what has
been happening, and what will continue to happen long after we have returned
home.
Thankfully there are many organizations
who go to great lengths to be sensitive to culture, and to truly engage the
local community in which they work. Unfortunately, there are many others who
spend too much time appearing successful, accessing funds, or fulfilling egos,
and for me that distinction has become much easier to spot thanks to inspiring organizations
like Casita Copán and UPH.
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| I will be back. :) |
