Road Blocks

Everyone from school children to mothers to teachers has constantly been asking me, ¨¿Usted va a enseñar Inglés?¨. Initiation of one of my major projects (a school garden) required a meeting with the school director. When he explained to me that the children must pass an English exam to attend high school, I caved. My first classes were difficult, to say the least, as I apparently waived my right to the students´ attention when I walked in.

Doors are beginning to open with my other projects. After two weeks of missed meetings and misunderstandings, my women´s group finally met and began work yesterday on our organic vegetable garden. Just me and a few old ladies preparing land for planting. I found a non-profit organzation in the larger city willing and able to donate seeds. I met with the director of the local youth group, who showed great excitement when I explained my ability and desire to teach music. Developments on the library built by the previous volunteer are slow coming, but coming nonetheless.

For the past week indigenous groups all over Ecuador have been protesting the upcoming vote of a new water allocation law. They have stopped all highways and many smaller roads with felled trees, people, and burning tires. I live in the heart of indigenous culture in Ecuador, so it feels very local. In fact, my whole community met on Tuesday night to discuss their stance on the issue and whether or not to join the protests.

The Paros had not affected my life very intimately for the first few days, as I could get back and forth from my community to the larger town. However, on my way home last Wednesday, the bus stopped suddently at a random point. Sure enough, the road was blocked by indigenous men and women sitting on a pile of logs. From there, my feet were the most efficient means of transport.

It has been strange watching the news report on road blocks, protests, and police involvement. I see smoke bombs shoot out of guns toward people who look exactly like those with whom I live, in places that look exactly like the place in which I live. Virtually stuck in my community with no public transportation running, I climbed up a mountain one morning to get a better view of the main highway in the valley below. Through my binoculars I could see a long line of stopped cars, as well as plumes of smoke from burning tires. Although I have no official opinion on the matter and it doesn´t really involve me, I do feel affected. The people with whom I live and work are intimately involved, in fact it is them attending these protests and stopping these roads.

These events have made me think about how we as Americans react when we disagree with our government. Instead of mounting large-scale protests to show our unity, we either complain and do nothing or call our senators. I am torn when watching the effectiveness of such protests (which apparently happen somewhat frequently here). Of course, it would not be productive to constantly protest every controversial law, but a little spice in our soup would be nice every once in a while.