Today we ventured into Isla Trinitaria with some of the Juconi workers. My first impressions were of greyness as far as the eye could see; grey. Grey houses, grey river, grey sky! Once you get across the main river into this sector, you realise it’s totally flat and encompassed on all sides by the greyness of the River Guayas tributaries – the Guayas is the main river that runs through Guayaquil and where the city gets its name. I was a bit nervous, after all it was to be my first day in the Sectores in a culture I knew little about, I didn’t understand the conversation that the staff were having in the Camion (SUV type vehicle that Juconi uses to transport workers in at times/equipment) and was clueless as to the plan for the day. I was proper nervous – there’s no use denying it! My stomach was churning even more than normal with the horrible water and strange food.
There were 6 of us in the car – the overall manager of the Juconi workers, 3 of the Children’s Workers all of whom are in the team that covers the Isla Trinitaria sector plus Helen and I. We dropped Helen and one of the workers off at one place and I was left with the three others. Don’t ask me how any of this got decided, I couldn’t tell you and even if they had explained the methodology behind the decision making, I was so tired my brain wasn’t functioning in English, let alone in Spanish.
After driving down some potholed grey dirt tracks, we stopped outside a house and got out. I was still with the three workers and we were at a man’s house to distribute leaflets and get permission sheets signed off for the Dia del Integration – I didn’t know what on earth this was going to be except it was a day when they were taking all the adolescents, as they’re called here, to the countryside. This was instead of having a camp as Juconi didn’t have enough money to take them camping too, and my responsibility with Helen and Karen was going to be to film and photograph the event and the kids. So, we go to this guy’s house and the Juconi workers explained what we were doing there, although as I said, my Spanish had left me that morning so I was none the wiser. But anyway after a brief discussion the guy called across out down the street and one by one these teenage boys, four of them if I remember rightly, appeared from places across the street. It seemed we were there to invite these teenagers, who I thought were his sons, to tomorrow’s day out. I’d been able to tell as soon as we’d met this guy that he was a bit of a smoothie who probably looked much younger than his real ages but he also had a dangerous edge. He was quite flirty with the Juconi workers, all females, and even guessed that I was 24. I said i was a bit older than that but he said no mucho eh?! Wink, wink!
I could also tell by his swagger and arrogance that he was a bit of a gangster. It was only after leaving the sector and returning to the office for lunch that I found out his name is Pistolon and that the whole neighbourhood is scared of him because when he’s drunk or has taken drugs he starts shooting his gun randomly in the air. I also found out that the teenagers who’d come to his house when we were distributing letters for the next day, weren’t actually his kids but neighbourhood boys that he gets to rob for him and Karen later said she wouldn’t be surprised if he gets them to drug run. Karen found out that I’d been taken to meet Pistolon she was slightly shocked that the Juconi workers had taken me in there, especially as it was so early on – i.e. my first actual day in the sectors! Haha! Well, I’m here to tell the tale so it’s all good I suppose!
Once back in the car, we drove around a bit dropping off letters. Three of us stayed in the car whilst the most senior of the team went to speak to the families. Each time she left the car she locked us in and we were told to hold on to or hide our bags whilst we were waiting for her to come back. The streets were pretty quiet in this area and I felt a real sense of tension and fear in the area – this is one of the most dangerous areas I’ll be going to for Club de Arte.
After being dropped off by the camion, one of Children’s Workers and I went into another Sector on the other side of the main road – this area is known as Trini Puerto but shares many of the characteristics of Isla Trinitaria across the road. Again, the fear and tension was there but it was a bit more relaxed with a few more people in the streets. The worker I was with, a Psychologist by trade (most of J’s staff team are trained Psychologists), was fairly new to the team and told me that when they’d started going into the sectors it was even more dangerous than now. Now though, the main workers are known and so we are have the safety of being with established workers – however, we are still told that we must wear the Juconi t-shirts, bibs and caps so that we are identifiable. We visited one family here to drop off a letter and met another girl – she couldn’t have been more than 12 and was very heavily pregnant.
Through the gaps in the streets, I saw the houses built up on stilts above the water; Juconi workers told me it’s because the river doesn’t belong to anyone so they can build there without having to pay anyone for the land.
That afternoon we were still on the hunt for adolescents to invite to Integration Day. I was with Helen and the worker who I’d been with in the morning. This time we were heading North to the Sectores that ring the Northern edge of the city. We went to a school and met a couple of Juconi kids. After receiving her letter, one of the girls kissed us goodbye and literally jumped into the road and missed a bus by inches as she proceeded to run across the five lanes of traffic; simultaneously all three of us shivered seeing how close she’d been. Once she was safe in the middle section, she managed the same feat crossing traffic going in the other direction. There are no crossings anywhere – can you believe that she, and probably hundreds of other kids do this everyday?!
Little did I realise, 10 minutes later it was to be my turn to play cat and mouse with the traffic. We waited for 5 minutes for a mini break in the traffic in which to run across the road. Even when there was a break, it was tiny and I think both Helen and I nearly had nervous breakdowns as a result of such a mental road crossing initiation! However, once I was safely ensconced (let’s say safe in relative terms as safety is one thing that Guayaquileno buses are not famous for!), on my on third bus of the day I started to relax. I settled into the long, oh so long, ride up the front on my own whilst the other two went to the back. I was just enjoying the music pumping out from the speakers, watching the sights of this big, ugly, bustling grey city but feeling really at home, relaxed and comfortable with all these experiences.... just going with the flow...!
It was quite easy to tell when we’d arrived at the access to the Northern sectors. The normal(?ish)houses and flats gave way to slums quite quickly and we were in for our next motorway crossing experience on the motorway style road that signals the entrance to this huge expanse of slums that goes on as far as the eye can see, up and over hill after hill. From one of the main entrance roads (so many people live in the Sectores now, that there are proper Government built roads in a few, and I mean a very few, places), we hopped on a more local bus which took us up and over many of the hills that typify the Northern areas and make them contrast so much with those in the South. Whilst I knew it was still highly dangerous, i.e. we’ve been told never to have notes in our purses and too not have anything in our pockets except some moneda – change, for the buses, the vibe here felt so much more relaxed in my opinion; that palpable sense of fear that I’d felt in Isla Trinitaria in the morning just wasn’t there to me.
We met a couple of families and realised the conditions that they live in; many have dirt floors – the richer ones have some concrete and some of slabs of wood. The family we met that afternoon had 6 or so kids – all beautiful and very sweet and welcoming. The littlest one of the family when he realised that we’d got no games for him to play with (nobody had told us that this was a good idea when visiting families by this point!), proceeded to get out all his Playstation games and show all his favourites – including Grand Theft Auto which I always think is an interesting choice for a six year old – hummmm! Helen and I couldn’t help but notice the raw meat and rice just sitting on the table with flies everywhere or the little baby, who apparently belonged to someone else not the Mum we were visiting, sleeping on the sofa again with flies buzzing all around. And God, was it hot. I find it amazing that people can live in that heat and with such a huge families too. It’s not unusual to have more than 6 or 7 plus in a pretty small space and have three or four sharing a shabby old mattress. However, for me, the humidity, dust and constant heat was insane and I was sweating all day long, not helped by the wearing of a cap, a thick Airtex Juconi T-shirt and a bib too!!! I was sodden and absolutely filthy from walking the dirt streets and being bathed in old bus fumes all day. I had never craved a cold shower more than after that first day in the sectores and it was the only time I’ve ever been truly grateful that not one drop of warm water ever passes through my shower!
But, what a day – all those experiences squeezed into one very exhausting day and we’d got our first glimpse into what we were here for – the Sectores, the families, and the type of kids/issues that we are going to be seeing a lot more of over the next six months. Bring it on!
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