The real stuff
On the way up to the Embera Chami community
After 20 minutes walk, Dora says we’re nearly there. It is 1pm, the sun has come out and we are tramping uphill. The scenery is spectacular but our progress is sweaty. Thirty minutes later, Dora tells us we are halfway. There is some conflicting information going round here.
“You told us it was a 40-minute walk!” I moan.
But in truth, I don’t really care, I’m loving the hike, potential sunburn included. It is all such a break from the past few weeks’ administrative and financial struggle, a real breath of fresh air.
I have come with our Coordinator, Eduar and the two staff members who are running the programme in Buenavista to visit the indigenous reserve where a group of under five year olds and their carers, plus an expectant mother, are participating in the Early Childhood Programme. And my family had come along for the ride, so it is more like a day out than work.
Up in the reserve we are welcomed by Henry, the jovial young governor of the 41-strong Embera Chami community where 8 children are beneficiaries of the programme. After buying a home-made ice cream for everyone, we sit down in the covered patio and wait for the children to arrive with their carers. Here 9 families live in one house, although they are soon to be rehoused separately in cement constructions rather resembling small prisons
Babies in Filandia
which we observed on the way up. It is a mystery as to why it did not occur to the authorities to build with more natural and local materials such as wood and bamboo, and we wonder if the people concerned have been consulted on such matters as design and conclude that probably they have not.
With the meeting underway, I observe the mothers as they giggle at the tasks set for them by Dora and her assistant Maria Gloret. The theme is verbal and non-verbal communication, and they are exploring the different ways they can communicate with their children, from a love massage, during which the carers name the different parts of the child’s body as they touch them, to mime. The mothers find it all hilarious and giggle shyly when called upon to participate. Most of them are very young-looking and I don’t think any of them have been exposed to this kind of child development education before.
I think the person learning the most from all this is me.
Working with the indigenous community is also new to Dora and Maria. I suggest they explore ways in which to make their work more culturally sensitive, as I have noticed that the carers are reticent to participate. It might because they are young and easily embarrassed, but it might also be because what is asked of them is alien to their way of doing things. We are all learning on the job, indeed the programme is part of an initiative called “Colombia Aprende” (Colombia learns), so there is no sense of judgement as we look for ways of improving our work. I think the person learning the most from all this is me.
Mums hard at work
Last week I travelled to all the municipalities where we are implementing the programme and it was encouraging to see the work going on, especially the fantastic good will of the staff who have been working since early May with no pay and who seemed satisfied to receive a small amount of cash to cover some of their costs (for now!). I made agreements with stationers in each town for teaching materials and with jeep drivers to take staff members to the small villages they are working in and to the distant farmsteads where they have to make family visits. In this way, our finances are simplified and I can make monthly visits to the towns to pay everyone at the same time.
And now I’m with the accountant with our noses in the books making sure everything gels. It’s not easy – the budget is tight and we have a lot of juggling to do. For example we are supposed to supply a daily nourishing snack which covers 20% of the daily nutritional needs of pregnant mothers for $400 pesos, or $0.20 USD! Even here, that’s a tall order. We have discovered that there is not enough money to pay a secretary, even part-time, and that the programme director has to be paid the mimimum wage (about $300 USD). Yesterday I rang the Ministry to find out how our invoice was getting on in its long voyage through different civil servants’ offices, and discovered that it was about 2 weeks behind the schedule they had originially given us. So we’re going to have to keep those belts tight a little longer.
A happy customer in Pijao
I have come to think that in some ways it’s not such a good thing that the government has used private operators to carry out this programme, because surely if government agencies were doing the actual work, they would soon pump up the budget so that staff could be paid decent salaries and the agencies could pay real running costs without losing sleep about it. Surely the money would move out of the Ministry and into operations a lot faster too.
But then, if that were the case, I wouldn’t have this marvellous opportunity to learn patience, would I?