Playing at hope and charity

19th February 2007, Day 340

Buenos Aires, Argentina

I am pleased to report that this RTW trip is ending with a flurry of activity. I'd expected to start counting the days off the calendar until we returned home once we reached Buenos Aires. Fortunately we've been anything but bored for the last two weeks, travelling all over the city and almost returning to Iguazú.

It had been a wish of mine to engage in a stint of voluntary work since my original plan to work for the NGO Practical Action fell through just before we left the UK this time last year (gulp). Via some weblinks a friend provided on South American charities we came across LIFE, which stands for luchemos por una infancia feliz con esperanza ('striving for a happy childhood with hope'). After some negotiation with James we reached a decision to leave Brazil with some haste so we could commit to a good stint working with this organisation. The experience has left a mixed taste in my mouth.

LIFE works with underpriviledged, socially excluded and poverty stricken children. They describe themselves as follows:

'We are L.I.F.E. Luchemos por una Infancia Feliz y con Esperanza, a non profit organization located in Buenos Aires City, Argentina. Our objective is to improve the quality of life of children living in situations of social risk. For this, our organization sponsors and carries out different programs in soup kitchens, community centers and a hospital that are all already established.'

LIFE is run mainly by a mother and daughter team of Liliana and Victoria. The operation organise its programs at short notice or even spontaneously, which makes it flexible for volunteers. Each week you receive a list of activites and volunteer for the ones you're most interested in. This approach also means that they can respond to need and circumstance promptly and in a way most corporate charities could not. The downside is that there is sometimes confusion between volunteers over what is happening and little transparency in the operation.

Here's a few things we've done:

1st February: Juegoteca at Los Angelitos, Ciudad Oculta. Our first engagement at a soup kitchen and play facility for a the poor surrounding area. We were joined by two more experienced volunteers who mercifully could speak a decent standard of Spanish. It struck me immediately how little Spanish I could speak, as I didn't know how to say things like 'hit it gently', 'turn around' or even 'what game do you want to play'. Playing with the kids was not hard though. Football, tennis and jigsaw puzzles.

2nd February: Futbol, Lafferre. A long journey including a bus ride, collectivo (a minibus driven by someone who looked disconcertingly like Ron Jeremy) and an ancient taxi. When we arrived in this outlying suburb, it was too hot at 37 degrees to play football. Instead we were treated to watching some of the small kids learn basic soccer skills in a local gym.

4th February: Fundraising in Recoleta Park. This was tougher than expected. We arrived with Juan Jo from the LIFE permanent staff dragging a picnic table, LIFE umbrella and LIFE banners in tow along the few roads from the office to the park. We set up in advance of Lili's arrival, the woman who founded the organisation. In the meantime we tried to engage a few people with our vacant collection tins. Far fewer were English holiday makers than we had been told to expect, but we attempted to speak some Spanish yielding pretty meagre results. When Lili turned up she gave us some direction, positioning us strategically around Recoleta Park to catch as many tourists as possible. Recoleta Park is home to the famous cemetery where Evita is buried and has popular museums, malls and an outdoor market. Therefore there were plenty of tourists and Sunday amblers to engage in a bit of chat. The phrase I was using to engage the Spanish speakers, I later disacovered, was constructed very badly which was why I didn't do so well with them. I was mainly ignored or stared at in confusion. English was better and I managed to have a few good conversations with people, only a group of girls let me down a bit:

Me: 'Would you like to help with children who live in poverty here in Buenos Aires'
Girl: 'You know what? I've shopped 'til I dropped this morning, so I don't have any money left.'

I managed to collect about $20 USD in the end. Not a great mornings' work.

5th Feburary: Cooking in the soup kitchen at Los Angelitos, Ciudad Oculta. James and I felt more comfortable attempting a practical task and there wasn't too much Spanish we need to speak bar knowing a few nouns for kitchen utensils and cutlery. When they dug out a huge shoulder of beef I thought it might not be my day I looked at James feeling crestfallen. Fortunately we were put to use chopping up vegetables and cutting bread which was more our thing. There was a lot of asking if we could be of help, getting under people's feet and feeling like a spare part. Between tasks I stared at the giant rabbits in the back yard and waited for the time to serve dinner. We must have fed about 120 people in the local community that day and it is humbling to serve many adults as well as children. Some turned up with containers to take some back to those who, I assume, couldn't make it to the kitchen.

7th February: Juegoteca at Laferrere. This is playgroup out in a distant suburb of Buenos Aires, most quickly reached by the Autopista (motorway). It was fleshed out mainly by Paraguayan and Bolivian immigrants in the last ten years. The neighbourhood has a fleet of decaying Ford Falcons rather than taxis or a public transport system. Lots of kids run arounds with blonded hair; the peroxide has the same ingredients as any headlice shampoo, but it is cheaper.

LIFE have built a small community centre here and once a week volunteers come here to play with children. While we were setting up the toys some children turned up with a wheelbarrow full of exoticly coloured fizzy drink bottles. They were selling homemade bleach. More football, tennis and jigsaw puzzles followed after they'd sold their wares.

9th-11th February: Working with the Guarani tribe in Peruti near Montecarlo, Misiones

LIFE's description: 'Autóctonos (which means native or indigenous) is a program that provides humanitarian assistance to indigenous populations living in abject poverty. The purpose of this work is to help members of this ethnic minority group reach a level of social integration that does not compromise their ideals or involve the loss of cultural traditions and customs. Indeed, the program seeks to find a middle ground between the pressure to modernize and the desire to maintain what is sacred to these people.'

We were in a village called Peruti of roughly 500 people, with just over 50 (big) families. They were Guarani native Americans. The Guarani were decimated by the conquest of the new world. They were killed or enslaved by the Spanish and Portuguese and then indoctrinated/protected by the Jesuit missionaries. The people have their own land in provinces in Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay, but the road they took to get it was unspeakable. Most Guarani still live well under the poverty line, without much in the way of education, healthcare or help from the state. I knew something about this before I arrived so I wasn't expecting a picnic.

This village structure was much like the Karen Hilltribe village we taught at in Thailand: no running water to tap (you get it from a river), limited electricity, basic housing and non-descript infrastructure. The diference was in this village there seemed to be less order, initiative or self-respect. To me, the Karen in Pa Do Tha had a strong sense of purpose and organisation.

Our function over the weekend was to do things like collecting rubbish (which the village is strewn with) and encouraging the kids to do so, providing the families a couple of decent meals, checking the kids for head lice and cutting their finger nails, recreation and sports with the children, giving out clothes and cookware and responsible family planning and HIV prevention workshops. We got on with our tasks steadily under sometimes fraught directions from Lili and Vicky, who could have used some help with managing things.

LIFE of course has a policy of not interfering with the structure of the community or culture. Encouraging the men or women to take a more active role in certain tasks or responsibility in certain areas could amount to this. A few of the kids were keen to help us collect rubbish or water for a time, but very few of the adults really did. Therefore we just handed out help. I suspect she would prefer a different approach but Lili steers a difficult course here. During a meeting with the village chief at the end of our weekend they mentioned that they thought some families received special treatment over others, Lili said she did not want to get involved with the politics of the village. Requesting additional local help might not be well received.

Peruti wasn't a miserable place, but the people seemed a bit disempowered and not inspired to drag themselves out of the situation they lived within, even though it was poverty stricken. That was my impression. It was also my feeling that the way LIFE works here doesn't really tackle this with a long term strategy. With the best of intentions it comes with a team of volunteers helps the families and leaves the village a few days later, but from what I could gather it does not inspire or equiping the residents to 'help themselves'. A symptom of this weary village were lots of truly disease ridden and malnourished dogs and cats, which seem to have no purpose; their own existence bad for the villagers and for themselves. Although the residents had some affection for these animal, it was pretty depressing.

I do not wish to paint blackened scene. LIFE benefits the village with hygiene, healthcare and moral support. Perhaps this kind of help is all LIFE can offer and I for one wouldn't have volunteered if the village didn't have control over LIFE's activites in Peruti.

Clothes distribution. Fortunately organised prior to arrival by Lili and Vicky with a spreadsheet and distributed by those with a good grasp of Spanish. This looked like a tough job and it went on for several hours in the muggy heat.











James hands out a hamburger. It's not easy organising the cooking here. There is a kitchen, but it's up a muddy slope, even then it doesn't have running water. The food was prepared over a hastily constructed barbeque, tomatoes and lettuce washed in boiled water and buns prepared on a production line. James and I carried enough water up slippery muddy slopes to remind our backs of their vocation for a few weeks. I do not like seeing cockroaches get into food (there were only two instances of this to be fair and the food wasn't eaten).












This looks like a juvenile Guarani version of Last of the Summer Wine to me. The kids were pretty happy and they at least enjoyed our presence I think.












This little kid grabbed hold of me when we went on a brief tour of the village on the last day. This involved us visiting a Guarani cemetary and getting lost in a field of Maize and Squash.
















Eggs is eggs. The kids went made for the boiled eggs we served on the second day, in fact they found the rubbish sack of egg shells and ripped it open. I'm not sure if there is some nutrient in the eggs which they are lacking.











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18th February: Boca Juniors vs Rosario Central

Finally I got to see a football match in South America. I have cut it very fine considering how close I am to getting on the plane back home. Boca Juniors are the one team I would have picked to watch in South America and La Bombenera is exactly the kind of old fashioned football venue which is now extinct in the UK.

It was a reasonable early season match which ended 1-1. It was notable for Riquelme's return to Boca from Villareal in Spain.

The day did not start well. James and I had been out the previous evening to Palermo and had only returned to the apartment at around 7am and I was sleeping off a night's drinking when I was rudely awoken by a phone call at 1pm. Gregory, one of the crew from Peruti and my company for the match had also been out the previous evening partying. He had managed to get up at 12pm and still possessed the will to get us to the football match. We were in a sorry state. Hungover in the blazing sunshine we found out the tickets we'd reserved through a hostel had fallen through and that we'd have to make our own way to the stadium and chance our arm with the ticket touts. We staggered through the deserted Sunday streets to where a bus could take us to La Boca. My first glimpse of the stadium did not disappoint, like all large stadiums it was a behemoth on the horizon.

We found our way into the claustrophobic arena on the bottom tier, standing (hooray!) in the sunshine (boo!) as all of the space under the tier overhang had already been taken. This was for more than one reason. We were directly underneath the away fan allocation and they spent the entire game spitting at us, throwing bottles and generally acting like morons. Both me and Gregory got slightly spattered, but a woman in fromt of me took a direct hit from a wad of gob. It was pretty shameful watching her husband wipe spittle off his wife's replica shirt. I don't know if only Rosario fans do this or whether it's commonplace in Argentinian soccer.

This was the scene shortly before kick off. Don't let the top tier fool you, the rest of the stadium was packed full, underneath the huge banner were plenty of sweaty Boca fans.

The match kicked off with Boca taking immediate charge of the game retaining a large amount of possession with Riquelme bossing things in midfield. After about twenty minutes Boca faltered and Rosario were increasingly having the better of the chances. Both Gregory and I were surprised at the differing standards of players.

The were some exquisite skills and pieces of play, and not just from Riquelme. There were also lots of mistakes: over hit passes, silly loss of possession, the ball going in to touch needlessly and a lack of defensive conviction. I would imagine the breadth of the wage scale is shocking. It was like watching a side cobbled together from the butchered remains of successful top European club and a English conference team. You can tell there is not the money in South American football like there is in Europe.

Mural outside La Bombenera. There are 32 professional teams in Buenos Aires, more even than London. Gregory, who is from near Lyon, told me that Paris only has Saint-German.One professional team in the entire capital!









Concrete Fatigue? The stadium was built in 1940 and it shows. There were plenty of elements about the ground which I felt uneasy about. The lack of exits, toilets, the lack of stewards in the stands (conduct of the Rosario fans above), the barriers to prevent the crowd getting on the pitch the access and egress were all sources of concern to me. We were retained in the stadium for half an hour after the match before leaving. There was big crush when we finally go going: an entire tier leave from one exit with no stewarding to control the stream of people.

On the other hand, La Bombonera had everything I like about football grounds. We stood up, jumped up and down and did everything we wanted without an over zealous steward trying to stamp it out. The oozed energy and character.

After the Hillsborough and Heysel stadium tragedies of the 1980's the Taylor report in England made important changes to how football is watched and stadium constructed in Europe. What seems sad to me is how we missed the middle ground. The firm restructions on capacity were an important milestone. The legacy of seat over the terrace were not. I believe that the template for the future of football shouldn't be a dull all-seater identikit stadium like EVERY new ground built in the UK. There is no problem with standing as long as it is well set out and mixed with seating. It goes without saying that there can be no crash barriers to prevent people going spilling on to the pitch.

I hope that gradually FIFA, UEFA and the FA together with club chairman and consortiums can realise that all-seated stadiums are not the only answer to crowd safety problems. The terrace remains the soul of football to me.

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Woah, that's pretty much it! I will put up one final post on this blog when I get home, and then shift my attention to other areas. I will probably start another blog when I get home at a different address. Thank you for reading.