This is a Kidz' World

If you go to the Isla Del Sol, not only will you encounter beautiful stars, dazzling sun and a dozen donkeys, but you’ll also see the cutest puppies and babies EVER. Before you scroll onto the next post, I promise there’s no soppy ranting here, my weekend trip to Copacabana and the island was just the jolt I needed to write about the abundant amount of child labour in Bolivia.

Morales’ government has just passed a new law legalizing the employment of children. On the one hand, this doesn’t seem to be working towards a future where kids are in full-time education and people employing them are penalized by the state, but on the other hand now those children who have no option but to work can be protected by legal rights and take pride in their work, instead of being ashamed or vilified.

My belated blog entry about such an important topic highlights how second-nature it is to see a six-year-old selling sweets and cigarettes, or an eight-year-old shining shoes.

I watched a film about two young boys working in the mines in Potosi. This type of work is really dangerous in case of collapsing mines or gunpowder miss-explosions, not to mention the lack of oxygen, and the dust which infiltrates and irritates lungs. These kids had to work there because their father had died, and their mamá’s income was not enough to sustain them. In a Spanish language class, we watched a video produced by Save the Children in which many children said they opted to work with their parents to minimize the risk of being mistreated elsewhere, and to boost profit for the family company. Why do so many children work? Because their parents are employed in precarious work, and they have little other choice to help or to go hungry.

Lots of the children work in the morning and go to school in the afternoon. One little girl I met whilst walking around the Isla del Sol was towing along her llama, Ivan, and started telling me that she’s on commission for the local hotels to take newly arrived tourists straight to their door, and after all the boats have docked, she goes to school. Her brothers came rushing up to us a little later, and demanded Bs. 5 to keep walking. You have to pay Bs. 15 at the start of the hike, but anything after that and the young entrepreneurs are having you on. These kids work and study, but when do they have time to play?

Two elements could be addressed to reduce the number of kids working: firstly, children need resources to be able to go to school. Schools have strict regulations about clothes and haircuts. If the state provided uniforms, paper and pens, children wouldn’t need to save up to go to school. Listening Morales? Secondly, the nature of the work can be really damaging for the children. Working in the mine is of terrible detriment to health even if you’re a healthy adult, children’s lungs suffer, and they have vitamin deficiencies and can be poisoned from the chemicals in the metal. Elsewhere, children are paid to carry heavy sacks for shoppers in the market, which is really bad for their backs and can stunt growth. Perhaps an amendment to the law could stop children injuring themselves and impacting on their future. Judging by the number of children parading around Plaza Avaroa playing instruments and singing on Independence Day, it’s a future which remains bright and hopeful.

Raison d'Etre

Let me introduce you to a phenomenon peculiar to Latin America: the Passion. I first encountered Passion in Buenos Aires’ San Telmo market two years ago. Sophia and I got chatting to a man selling saddlery equipment and all the leather a Gaucho could desire. When we asked him if he had any horses, he replied that he’d never ridden in his life, but that the saddlery was his Passion.

Such graffiti adorns the wall of La Paz as, ‘You can’t choose your Passion, but you’re tied to it for life’.

Last Monday I visited the FEJUVE offices in El Alto. They’re a grassroots community organization that facilitates basic neighbourhood needs. They were at the forefront of pushing the government to nationalize water and gas – a move which has saved many families from paying extortionate amounts for basic human requirements. The men were at first reluctant to talk to us, but after Wilmer and I promised them that Bolivian Express didn’t have a political agenda, and was a cultural publication, they agreed to answer our questions. They became really animated and talked with passion about their projects.

Christy and I went to see a film showcasing political Passion during the 70s and 80s. It was called Olvidados, and tackled the difficult subject of the union of dictatorships, orchestrated by the US, that formed in many South American countries, and documented the communist struggle against them. Many ended up as political prisoners being tortured and ultimately murdered. We concluded it was an apolitical film about extremist views as opposed to a vilification of either party. Two generations of love stories were the vehicle for telling the history which found us sympathising with both torturer and torturee.

Gato (real name Michael), our magazine designer, has two Passions: Bolivar fútbal club and Photography. We had the rare opportunity of experiencing his interaction with both first hand. We’ve been having Photography lessons as part of our journalism course, and one night (described by one La Paz resident as the coldest day of the year) Gato took us up to a Mirador overlooking the city. It was really beautiful, and we decided to brave the cold. Taking a good photograph is really rewarding. We’ve discovered that it helps a journalist to look closely at the details of their surroundings.

The following day, we went to see Bolivar Vs. San Lorenzo of Argentina. The curses and jeers from the Bolivian fans were an excellent exercise in Spanish vocabulary, with a particularly loud woman behind us shouting, ‘You’re screwed, there’s no Oxygen up here’. A chorus of ‘Alemania’ rang out every so often, teasing the Argentinean players for their World Cup defeat. Not only were the sounds and smells of popcorn permeating the game, but the sight of toilet roll, confetti, seat cushions and all manner of objects being chucked around (mainly directed at the Argentinean players) provided amazing visuals making for an intensely dramatic, multi-sensorial experience.

We saw another game in Cochabamba, a town two girls and I visited this weekend. In this town, both players and fans must face extreme weather conditions (blistering heat) as well as draining altitude. The fans’ relentless cheering and t-shirt waving was impressive. Emotions were running high: the game went to penalties, and the first player from the Cochabamba team to take a penalty missed (it wasn’t even saved, he missed the goal), and broke down in tears and dropped to his knees before it had even become clear that they’d lost the game altogether.

We went to an amazing reggae bar last Tuesday. They had a house band consisting of aging rockers that kept bickering and stopping the music for half an hour at a time. They played Bob Marley covers, and even let me and another gringo sing into the microphone, although I must confess that after a few beers we couldn’t quite remember all the words. Seeing as it’s my Passion, we’re going back again this week.