Carmencita's Dream by Loretta Geuenich January 2001 It's a cool January evening in the remote Salvadoran community of Monsenor Romero. Cool enough for Carmencita to keep herself warm with a towel around her shoulders half bare from the thin cotton dress she wares–a size too big for her. We've just finished our supper of boiled red beans and thick hand-ground corn tortillas. Tonight there were bananas, small soft and sweet. A gift from Don Edwin, our neighbor. Almost each evening Carmencita slinks furtively away from her family of eight to spend an hour or two with her slightly younger sister Gudelia and me the "gringa" from Australia. The conversation always begins with some anecdotal event of the day, a wee bit of light "chisme" (gossip) or just a big sigh followed by a laugh on Carmencita's part. She's lived beyond and looks older than her forty-eight years. Soon the conversation always turns to one of two topics–national politics or structural injustice as it impacts upon their daily lives. Then as one might imagine they rapidly weave into one. Never forgotten are the years of the "lucha" (fight/war/struggle) and the sisters sing songs that Gudelia composed during their years fighting on Guazapa volcano in whose gentle shadow and undulating folds we now live–in a tiny plastic sheeting and corrugated iron hut made from materials given out after the peace accords in 1992. Temporary shelter they said then. Gudelia and Carmencita own their land–3 acres each. Reward for 20 years of fighting for democratic elections, education and land. Years in which they lost children and family, witnessed the most heinous crimes possible, were imprisoned and tortured, lived for months on end on only bark and weeds and saw their tiny ten year old daughters weak from malnutrition with weapons tucked into their thin socks for protection. Here the land is everything–food, spirit, sustenance, work and identity. The word "campesino/a" doesn't translate for a campesina is far more than a farmer. It's not an occupation it's an identity, which forms and defines, who you are. We're sitting outside. Fireflies accompany us. They are a marvel to this Aussie who's never seen them at home. Carmencita begins–a sigh and a laugh–then another laugh. Today things are desperate and she's almost lost for words. In 1998 all the crops were lost to Hurricane Mitch. The following year disproportionately heavy rains rotted the bean crops that they'd planted on credit because of Mitch. This year is year two on credit. The crops have been reasonably good but then Carmencita continues "I've just realized that for my whole year of hard work, tending the land and the crops as well as caring for my family of eight that at the end of tomorrow we will be left with no food and no money for the year ahead. By the time I pay back the money I borrowed for seed and fertilizer and pay back the 20% interest (on a 12 month loan) there will be no money for this years seed, no money to send the children to school and no beans left for us to eat. 'I think to myself' And this wouldn't be the first year that Carmencita and her family have lived solely on tortillas and salt." No one in the community of Monsenor Romero has any cash income from employment. It's subsistence agriculture–maize and beans. Carmencita's long grey-black plait is loose and shiny by the light of our one candle. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's so ludicrous. I'm exhausted and incredulous at the injustice of it all, especially given that it's the non-government organizations formed at the end of the war to help the repopulated communities who are robbing us with the high interest rates and a maximum borrowing period of one year. The banks are worse and they only give loans for a maximum of seven months." She wipes tears on her apron and then laughs saying "One has to laugh. What else can I do?" We're all a bit "gobsmacked" by the dire-ness of the situation. Carmencita must be the most selfless and compassionate person in the tiny community of 16 families, which has known violence and division in the past. "Each morning as I sweep (dirt floors) I pray for each family in this community and that we may be a united community and work together to care for each family, each person." She said to me a few weeks ago. She also is the unpaid health promoter in the community restructuring her days around being close by in case anyone needs her. Gudelia and Julia (a neighbor who's now joined us) are emphatic in their stating that there is no way that you can make a profit on a one year loan at 20% interest. "It's a poverty trap. There is no way, no matter how hard you work or how careful you manage your resources, that you can get ahead." Head in hand Carmencita says "My dream is to be able to have a project for all of us that would end this crazy cycle by utilizing the different skills and interests that us women already have as well as taking into consideration our limitations–personal and collective. Like this we could improve the quality of our life and health, expand our skills and move towards economic independence." August 2001 Carmencita's dream became a reality for the women's group of Monsenor Romero. After consulting with each woman in the community and then gathering together as a group we wrote a three-year poverty alleviation project. In May the Global Women's Fund announced that they would fund the three-year project which is now underway. With the aims of alleviating poverty, expanding women's skill base whilst utilizing existing knowledge, and developing micro-enterprise, the women and families of Monsenor Romero are reaping rewards for their hard work. 14 women/families are working with livestock raising and with the purchase of a calf each year for three years will have not only milk for their children for the first time, but also animals to breed from and then sell. A cow is worth what a campesino family would live on for a year. The women already know how to raise stock and have secured the support of a national organization who will teach them how to vaccinate their cattle and make yogurt, cream, butter and cheese from the milk. This will make a radical difference to the nutrition levels of the children in the community as currently no child ever receives any milk or dairy products. The remaining 5 women/families are working with poultry farming. Increasing their capacity and output each year for three years. Beginning with the raising and re-selling of young chick and then moving to hens for laying and eating with an emphasis on the festive times of the year when prices not only skyrocket but women have to travel far to even buy a chicken. That there is money for chicken wire means that the chickens will be separate from the 19 organic gardens that the women have just set up with a grant from the Australian embassy in Mexico. The women say "We know how to work together, we trust each other here in this community, even though none of us have more than the other we always share what we have and that's why this project is successful because we are working together." And Carmencita? "Estoy bien contenta, vale sonar" ("I'm very content. It pays to dream"). Carmencita and granddaughter, Odalin, making tortillas in her new kitchen Globalink is the newsletter produced by the steering committee for the Global Women's Project. Steering members include: Doris Coppock of McPherson, KS; Valentina Satvedi of Vista, CA; Joy Struble of Okemos, MI; Peg Lehman of Elgin, IL, and Sandy Snowden of Hershey, PA. Production assistance and layout design provided by Lauryn Estes, Brethren Witness office.

Click here for: GWP Welcomes their newest member, Sandy Snowden!   Next meeting in Pennsylvania!   Open Invitation for New Projects   Report from McPherson   Goodbye and God Bless!   Update on "Desarrollo Integral del Mujer" in Cochabamba, Bolivia   A Challenge for Our Time   Note from GWP

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