There and back again: a holiday in Antigua

Nestled among a ring of active volcanoes, the city of Antigua, Guatemala, is one of the most charming places I've ever been. Wide cobblestone streets lined with colourful shops criss-cross the city, taking you from the artisan market to the leafy main square to the magical ChocoMuseo (Chocolate Museum), which is only surpassed by the Valhalla Macadamia Nut Farm we visited a few kilometres out of town. Everywhere you go in Antigua you're surrounded by mountains and ruined cathedrals. You see, the Spanish built this city to be their capital and they had a knack for choosing places that were earthquake-prone and surrounded by erupting volcanoes (San Salvador is also built on the slope of an active volcano). I wouldn't have chosen Antigua's current location, but the Spanish were not about to let a little thing like plate tectonics get in their way. Every time there was an earthquake they just rebuilt, displaying a touching faith in the power of their righteousness over the forces of nature. This happened again and again and again, until they finally abandoned Antigua for a less earthquake-prone region. I think Antigua has more ruined cathedrals per capita than anywhere else on the planet. 

Now the ruined cathedrals house eerily life-like Easter floats

Previously a Jesuit seminary

We stayed in Antigua for four days in a hostel called Hostal Holistico. If you ever go to Antigua - and you will now that you know there's a Chocolate Museum - you should stay here. It's got real mattresses, hot showers, an espresso machine, and the nicest staff ever, all for $10/night. 

The high point of our trip was hiking Mount Pacaya. Mount Pacaya last erupted two years ago, sending a 40 metre flow of lava down its flank. It destroyed an entire village of 300 homes, but everyone had evacuated. There was only one death: a television reporter who got hit by a flying rock.

The hike was like the hobbits' trek to Mordor. We started in lush green pastures filled with cows, and walked straight up the side of the mountain. As we climbed it began to rain, a drizzle at first and then heavy and cold. The vegetation grew more and more stunted, until finally we climbed over a ridge and there were no more trees. A vast lava plain extended below us and the cone lay ahead, although we could barely see it through the rain. We were to follow a narrow path along the cinder slope. It looked barely wide enough for a goat. 

Cows

The tree line

Ashes and smoke

Goat track

We knew we were getting close when the rain started steaming as it hit the ground. For the last part of the hike we had to walk over the lava flow itself. The brittle rocks looked like a field of bones, or a bomb site. 

Finally we crested a ridge and found ourselves a few hundred feet below Pacaya's smoking crater. We weren't allowed to go any closer, so we roasted marshmallows in volcanic vents. Tons of tourists were there, including a couple of large and rowdy youth groups on a 'mission year,' which apparently is a thing that Americans are into right now.

The vent is right around our knees spewing super-heated air from the magma chamber

Our friend Xixi

All too soon it was time to leave. We went through the steaming rain over the brittle lava flow, passed the Lava Store (a hippie outpost that sells jewellery encrusted with volcanic rock), and began to make our way down the path. Suddenly we heard the thunder of hundreds of teenage feet. Looking back, we saw the American youth group bearing down on us. The kids were running totally out of control ahead of their leaders, laughing and shrieking at the top of their lungs. Our guide took one look and said, 'we're not getting caught in that', and took us on a shortcut through the jungle. We re-emerged lower on the path, but they were running so fast that all too soon we heard their terrible thunder from behind. They were gaining on us. The parking lot emerged from the mist, and we ran for its safety as though fleeing the Nazgul. We just barely made it. We jumped into our van and the driver stepped on it to get us down the highway before their buses clogged the entrance. As we sped away into the tropical dusk, we saw them milling around their garishly coloured buses, still laughing. 

P3s: The Good, the Bad, and the Just Plain Weird

Leah and I have finished our research report on public-private partnerships (P3s)! We actually finished last week and celebrated by going to Guatemala for a few days (I'll post on that later).  

I've been writing about my activism, misadventures, real adventures, intestinal fauna, and random thoughts, but I've avoided writing about the actual work I've been doing down here. I felt that that telling a gripping story about the process of research is something only Steig Larsen can - or should - do (may he rest in peace). But we found out some really interesting stuff. Right-wing elements in the Salvadoran government, with support from the US government and international financial institutions, are pushing this pro-P3 bill through with all kinds of unusual, and, to my knowledge, unprecedented, features that will harm the country. I'm talking about the special fund that the government has to create for private bidders to borrow from, the provision that forces the government to pay the first bidder 1% of the estimated price of the project if their bid is passed over for one submitted later, the provision that forces the government to pay successful bidders 1% of the project cost if their bid is accepted by the Executive Branch but then rejected by the Legislative Assembly, and the provision that allows 40-year contracts when the international norm is 20-30 year contracts. The thing about public-private partnerships is that they work really well for 10-15% of capital infrastructure projects, 20% at the most, but no more. The P3 bill would make it mandatory for all levels of government to use P3s for all infrastructure projects and leaves a loophole which could allow P3s to be used for the provision of public services like healthcare, schools, and prisons. P3 service provision is incredibly controversial and has had mixed results. 


Anyways, here's the executive summary if you're interested. If you want to read the whole thing, give me a holler. Bear in mind that this is still in draft form and there may be typos and inelegant phrasing.  


Governments are responsible for providing public infrastructure (such as highways, bridges, waste and wastewater treatment plants, and recreation centres) and public services (such as education, health care, justice, and corrections). Since the 1980s, and especially since the 1990s, public-private partnerships (P3s) have become a popular alternative procurement model for governments who feel they cannot afford the traditional public procurement process. P3s are particularly prevalent in the areas of transportation (roads, airports, and railways), utilities (electricity, water, sewage, gas, telecoms), and amenities (lighting, social housing, and accommodation). P3s in social services such as prisons, healthcare and education are emerging, but are significantly more complex and controversial than their infrastructure counterparts.

P3s are a tool, not a panacea. Their proponents and detractors agree that P3s are not suitable for the provision of most public infrastructure and services. For smaller projects (i.e. those costing under 75 million USD), the P3 model may not be justifiable because any savings realized in the design and construction phases are outweighed by the higher procurement and contract management costs (see for e.g. Padova, 2010, p. 3). It is true that P3 procurement can work well in specific contexts – namely when:

a)     projects have low construction complexity and low revenue uncertainty;

b)     risks can be easily quantified and measured and  effectively transferred to the private sector;

c)      the government has strong contract negotiation and contract management abilities;

d)     there is very little direct customer service as part of the project’s make-up (e.g., highways, bridges and other ‘‘dumb’’ infrastructure);

e)     the private sector has extensive experience; and

f)       maintenance of the asset is politically problematic, since the public pressures governments to spend on other priorities (e.g., salaries and new services) such that the infrastructure gets run down and becomes more costly than it should be to operate and maintain across its entire lifespan (list compiled from Vining & Boardman, 2008, p. 11 and Cohn, 2008, p. 81)

However, in practice such contexts occur relatively rarely. P3s are not suitable in contexts where accountability is critical, competition is insufficient, vulnerable populations are affected or social values are more important than costs (Padova, 2010, p. 12).

Governments experienced with P3 procurement – mainly the United Kingdom and Australia followed by Canada and some European countries – regard it as one tool among several which can be used to provide public infrastructure and services. Accordingly, they allocate at most 20% of total government capital investment in P3 projects (Padova, 2010, p. 12). Typically the average is 10-15% (see Woodman, 2006; Padova, 2010). Nor do governments adhere to P3s unquestioningly. The United Kingdom (UK), which pioneered the widespread use of P3 procurement in the 1980s under the Thatcher administration, is currently reviewing its commitment to P3s. In November 2011 Her Majesty’s Treasury admitted their concern that P3 contracts are often “too costly, inflexible, and opaque” and called for evidence on which to base reforms to its P3-oriented infrastructure provision policy (Her Majesty's Treasury, 2011, p. 3).

As previously mentioned, President Funes’ P3 bill is seen as a response to the Constraints Analysis published by the government of the United States (USG) and the Government of El Salvador (GOES) as part of their bilateral agreement entitled Partnership for Growth. Through this bill, the government hopes to attract more foreign direct investment (FDI) to El Salvador so that the economy will grow.

This bill will not achieve its goals because it acts upon a misdiagnosis. Crime and low tradables productivity are not the reasons that El Salvador fails to attract FDI. Neighbouring countries with similar economic profiles and violence rates, such as Honduras, Guatemala and Nicaragua, receive far more FDI than El Salvador (as shown in Figure 3.) The graph shows that in 2010 – the most recent year for which data is available – El Salvador’s net FDI went into the red. Foreign investors withdrew 5.56 million USD from the country while increasing investment in El Salvador’s neighbours.

El Salvador cannot attract FDI because the national economy is not growing, and a stagnant economy is not attractive to foreign investors. The economy is not growing for three reasons:

1)     Salaries are low, which depresses purchasing power;

2)     The government has limited cash flow, and;

3)     El Salvador’s population has not grown since 1992 due to emigration (Villalona, 2012).

By our analysis, the bill has got it backwards. It is trying to increase FDI to grow the economy, when in reality the economy has to grow before El Salvador can attract FDI. In its current form, the bill will weaken Salvadoran sovereignty and drive up the cost of services.

Based on interviews with economists and political experts, and on our own research, the following would be the ideal and most prudent action to be taken by Legislative Assembly regarding the P3 Bill so as to increase El Salvador’s market:

1)     The P3 bill should not be approved by the Legislative Assembly.

2)     Instead of focusing on attracting FDI, the government should focus on decreasing income inequality. This would increase individual and family purchasing power.

3)     Increases in individual and family purchasing power should be achieved through tax reform and wealth redistribution. Increases to the minimum wage should be considered.

4)     Diversify El Salvador’s trade partners and forge alliances with key MERCOSUR countries. For example, Brazil and Argentina would make excellent trading partners, with large markets and a familiarity with the Latin American economic context.

In the event that the P3 Bill receives approval from the Legislative Assembly, we make the following recommendations to reduce the harm it will cause to the population and economy:

1)     Remove the requirement in Article 3 that makes P3s mandatory for state contracting institutions undertaking infrastructure projects and replace with language that says government parties should consider using P3s on a case-by-case basis for 10-15% of infrastructure projects, as appropriate. Alternatively, make it mandatory for state contracting institutions to consider P3s for infrastructure projects, without imposing a positive obligation to undertake a P3 should the conditions be deemed unsuitable.

2)     Create a government body (such as PROESA) to provide procurement and management advice to levels of government considering entering into a P3. It is crucial that this regulatory body and all P3 deals should be subject to strict, transparent oversight by a public interest watchdog. Require that all employees involved in oversight complete a training program to ensure that they are aware of the necessary conditions for P3s to be successful.

3)     The initial analysis of the comparative merits of traditional procurement versus a P3 should be measure the total social costs of the two projects, a more complete indicator than the value for money analysis. If a value for money analysis is used, the discount rate should be low to reflect the project’s true cost.

4)     Stipulate that contracts cannot exceed twenty years in length (current concessions are 40 years).

5)     Remove the requirement that the government create a special fund to provide loans to foreign investors.

6)     Remove the requirement that the government pay 1% of the bidding price to unsuccessful bidders. The benefits of any economic incentives to increase bids are outweighed by the significant unnecessary financial burden this will place on government finances, particularly for very large, long-term concessions.

7)     Guarantee that the companies don’t cut jobs when they take over a public business.

8)     Regulate user fees to protect the poor.

9)     Explicitly and permanently prohibit the use of P3s for service provision in the sectors of health, water provision, social security, public security (policing, corrections, national defence), and formal education.

Eating for two

I'm tired, nauseous, and eating for two. I know, dear reader, that you are wracked with worry and confusion, wondering what has befallen me. Am I pregnant, you ask? No, definitely not. How did this happen then? How did a young, strong, attractive law student hardened by a rugged life in the mountains of British Columbia get thrown on the mat? You guessed it, I have a parasite! It's actually not all that exciting.

I'll spare you the details - I already had to describe all my symptoms, tests, diagnosis, and treatment regime with my doctor dad. Suffice it to say that last weekend when my friends were hiking a volcano, I was shivering under three shirts at the first rest stop getting acquainted with the outhouse.

I've been on medication for three days and I'm almost done my course, so I should be 100% by this weekend. Thank god too, because we're going to spend 5 hours on a bus going to Antigua, Guatemala!

I've posted my friends' photos of the hike up volcan Santa Ana so that you can see what I missed.

Volcan Izalco, a perfect cinder cone right next to Volcan Santa Ana. It only stopped erupting in the 1960s

Before

After

Sulfurous crater at the summit of Santa Ana

Santa Ana from the first rest stop

Monsenor Romero and Canadian democracy

The long promised and eagerly anticipated post about Monsenor Romero.

Monsenor Romero was a Salvadoran archbishop who defended the poor and spoke out publicly against the military repression under which he and his people lived. In 1980, at the age of 63, he was killed by assassins paid for by the right-wing military government. His murder sparked the civil war that tore the country apart for twelve years.

He wasn't always radical. In fact, Romero was chosen to be the Archbishop of San Salvador because of his conservative views. He didn't start speaking out until three years before his death when government hit-squads assassinated his friend, the progressive Jesuit priest Rutilio Grande. Romero surprised everyone by taking up Grande's cause. He became an outspoken government critic and mobilized people to protest the poverty, social injustice, assassinations, and torture that characterized the country at the time.

Portrait of Monsenor Oscar Romero (1917-1980)

On March 24th, 1980, the government came for him. It was Easter and he was giving a Mass in which he had called upon the government to honour human rights and stop its tactics of repression. Hired guns crashed through the doors of his church. Romero was standing at the altar, arms raised, the body of Christ in one hand and the blood in the other. They aimed over the crowd and fired into his heart. They chose to kill him that way because the people called him the heart of the popular movement. 

The clothes he was wearing on March 24th, 1980

The altar where he gave Mass

The door the assassins entered by

Romero's funeral drew unprecedented crowds to mourn and protest government repression. The police fired on them, and that was the beginning of the civil war.  


Romero led a movement, defended the vulnerable, and dared to speak out against the policies of his government. What happened to him was an extreme example of a government silencing its critics, repressing democracy, and violating human rights. As I write this post, I can't help but think that there are some parallels to what's happening in Canada. Not in terms of state-sanctioned violence, but in terms of the silencing of criticism, the repression of democratic values, and the erosion of our human rights infrastructure. 


Harper's latest budget attacks so many things Canadians hold dear. Gender equality, human rights, free speech, compassionate healthcare, and wilderness have all suffered funding cuts. You can't tell me that Canadians don't care about human rights, or healthcare for refugees, or nature. We're proud of our history as peacekeepers, of our healthcare system, and of our country's striking natural beauty. Our clean rivers, majestic forests, towering mountains and sweeping plains define us to the world just as much as our historical commitment to multilateralism and freedom of speech that Harper's government has done so much to destroy. The Tories say that it's inappropriate for the government to fund groups that disagree with it. They are wrong. Canadians want to know that their government hears every point of view, especially the points of view of the +60% of people who didn't vote for them. It IS appropriate for government to fund groups that disagree with its policies - that's the sign of a mature, stable democracy. 


Clearly the federal Tories have neither of those attributes. Consider their embarrassing reaction to the UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, or their decision to audit charities that engage in "political activity" and receive American funding. They can't abide internal criticism and they have an even stronger, disturbingly xenophobic aversion to critical outsiders. Why shouldn't Canada be held to a higher food security standard than Ethiopia? Why shouldn't Americans care about the state of our policies? We care about the state of theirs. If the Harper government were honest it would add the Fraser Institute, an unabashedly political conservative think tank in BC that receives hundreds of thousands of dollars from the Koch brothers, to the list of organizations up for audit. Instead, the government's targeting environmental and human rights based charities that dare to criticize its policies.


How long can a democratically-elected government attack the systems and values of democracy before the people throws them out?

Playa El Tunco

There wasn't much to report last week. Leah and I worked on our report and we discovered that our office, which was formerly a storage space, is filled with noxious dust, so we're working from home more. And then we went to the beach with some new Salvadoran friends!

Playa El Tunco is El Salvador's most popular surfing town. It's a small town strung along a stretch of black sand on the Pacific. It has a laid-back, surfer-chic kind of style with wall-less, thatched roof restaurants and funky clothing stores. There were so many gringos that I could just fade into the crowd (except for that time when I found myself surrounded by ripped, tanned surfers with '80s hair. I definitely didn't fit in with them). The food and lodging are reasonably priced, so it's not just gringos. Lots of Salvadorans come here to surf. El Tunco also has vicious rip currents, jagged rocks, and an amazing right point break. A right point break means that you surf to your right when you catch a wave. Remember that, it'll come up again later.

We got there on Saturday afternoon and went straight to the beach. Saturday night we consumed a responsible and moderate amount of alcohol and went to a chaperoned square dance (hi, Mom). And on Sunday we surfed. I have surfed many times over the years. I have surfed in Tofino, Australia, Ghana, and now El Salvador. And every time, on every continent, it has been a disaster.

I got sick from drinking too much seawater in Ghana, I nearly lost a contact lens in Australia, and I've come close to losing extremities due to hypothermia in Tofino. And I can't - for the life of me - stand up on one of those clunky beginner boards. Point of pride: I did stand up on a surfboard in Australia for like, 5 seconds, but it was a small board we'd borrowed off the neighbours who were semi-pro surfers. If only that meant I was semi-pro and not that I have no upper body strength and can't maneuver the giant beginner boards...

Anyways, this time I outdid myself. I managed to paddle out to the point break without too much trouble, but it's tiring work and when I got there I took a break while our friend Paco, who was teaching me, went to catch a wave. I got seasick while waiting for him. I know what you're going to say, and shut up. I have exquisitely sensitive inner ears, okay? I can feel a cruise ship tilting slightly as it turns starboard at dinner time. But never have I ever gotten seasick ON A SURFBOARD. When you're that close to the wave you should be immune.

So there I was, bobbing in the waves on my giant beginner board and getting greener by the minute. It was a relief when Paco came back and told me it was time to catch a wave. I paddled out and got ready. The wave came. I caught it. And I broke LEFT. You have to understand that on one of the best right point breaks in the world, it takes some serious talent to break left. I had no idea that I was doing something special. I tried to stand up, couldn't, and decided to lie there and enjoy the rest of the ride to shore. Except that the left side of playa El Tunco is covered with jagged, barnacle covered rocks that extend a fair ways under the surf. The fishermen stared at the drenched gringa struggling with a 9 foot board barefoot on jagged rocks, but none moved to help me. One of them finally gave me a push and I made my way to shore. I'm pretty impressed with how little I got cut. I ended up with a small amount of barnacle burn on one shin and a cut on my foot, and that's it. Still, I thought it wise to spend the rest of the day tanning. Better to quit while you're ahead...  

Retraction and Photos

Since my last blog post I have learned that embassies don't have an obligation to let their citizens through their doors. The embassy also isn't Canadian territory. The host country forswears the right to enter foreign embassies on their soil, the people who work at the embassy have diplomatic immunity, and that's as far as it goes. So when the embassy locked me and Leah out last week they weren't denying us a basic right, but they were jerks and showed that they are terrible at PR (like, so terrible at PR). They turned what should have been a non-event into something news-worthy, and then they looked bad on the news later that day while Leah and I gave the anti-mining cause free publicity on the platform they created by locking us out. Maybe I should write them a thank you note and try to deliver it...

I've done a lot of really cool stuff since Wednesday! On Friday I went with Vivian, a FESPAD lawyer, to the informal settlements she works with. They're about thirty minutes to an hour from downtown San Salvador and they're in a very vulnerable position because they don't have running water or electricity and they don't own the land their houses are built on. Vivian is working with them to get them legalized. Until they own their land, the government can evict them at any time and won't help them with any of the problems that they face, whether they be crime or land slides. These people have built their homes from nothing and they are proud of where they live.Their streets are clean, their homes are organized, and they're close enough to the city that they can take the bus in if they need to. Nobody else wants this land and frankly, living on it is dangerous because they're mostly building onto steep, erosion-prone hillsides. They have nowhere else to go.

A home in San Martin

The community's elected leader explaining the dangers they face from landslides

A home in Comunidad Monsenor Romero

This man asked me to take a picture of his garden, which was lovely

On Saturday I chilled and watched a ridiculous amount of West Wing. And today I went with Beth, an American who founded her own environmental NGO down here, to one of the communities she works with that is next to Lago Ilopango, another volcanic crater lake. The community we visited has been there since the early '80s when they moved there to get away from the civil war. I'm sure it worked because that community is really hard to get to. When people are sick they have to boat a doctor in from the larger towns on the side of the lake nearer to San Salvador. When people need to evacuate, it's chaos. We hiked down into the crater on this really steep path that was washed out in some places from yesterday's monsoon rains. Hiking down took slightly over an hour, and hiking back up took slightly under two hours. I was dripping sweat while getting passed by these women in flip flops with bowls of mangoes on their heads. They looked like they had never sweated in their lives.

All I wanted to do when I got home was shower. I didn't care that we only had cold water and I didn't care that today was a relatively cold day. But I had forgotten that we only get water pressure in the mornings. There I was, so excited to get clean, but when I turned on the tap the water dribbled pathetically onto my head. For the first time in my life I longed for a Burkinabe bucket shower. When the water is in a bucket in front of you there may be dead flies in it or a thin film of dust on the surface, but you know it won't get turned off at the whim of a capricious water pressure fairy. I got as clean as I could and had a beer. I can get clean tomorrow. The whole experience was totally worth it.

LOCKED OUT OF OUR OWN EMBASSY

This morning Leah and I went to the Canadian embassy with a group of peaceful protesters from communities affected by mining exploration to protest the actions of Pacific Rim, a Canadian mining company that gravitated to El Salvador in 2002 for its gold and silver deposits and lax environmental laws. The community members and NGOs have been trying for weeks drop off a letter asking the embassy to stop publicly supporting Pacific Rim's lawsuit against the government of El Salvador, but the embassy has been refusing to let them enter on the grounds that they are not Canadian citizens. This morning Leah and I went with them. We just wanted to enter the embassy, as is our right, and drop off the letter. They locked us out. When we asked for reasons, they refused to give us any.

This is outrageous treatment. Any citizen of any country is allowed to enter their embassy while traveling abroad - that's what embassies are for. Your political affiliations don't affect this basic right, nor do your stances on controversial issues. The embassy is Canadian territory. As citizens, we have the right to enter our territory. They do not have the right to refuse entry to law-abiding Canadians.

We pointed this out to the security guard, who conferred with her higher ups. She told us that one of us could enter if it was regarding a document problem, otherwise we had to stay outside. There is no justification for allowing one Canadian to enter the embassy and not another. More importantly, the embassy is not allowed to dictate the reasons for which Canadians can enter its premises. We have the right to enter the embassy for peaceful purposes, even if the government of the day disagrees with our opinions and doesn't feel like receiving mail. Their arbitrary refusal to let us enter made the embassy look churlish and fearful. We were two girls with a letter; the most frightening thing we could have done is leave long blonde hairs on their carpets.

A little background...

Pacific Rim Mining Corp. is headquartered in Vancouver, Canada. It began exploring El Salvador's highlands in 2002 through its subsidiary incorporated in the Cayman Islands. Pacific Rim's exploratory actions began to contaminate drinking water, and nearby communities began to protest. Any mine uses vast quantities of water for all parts of its operation. By the end, the highly toxic water is stored in tailings ponds that may not be leak-proof. Just ask the people living downriver from the tar sands how well those tailings ponds do their job in a geologically stable zone. It's worth pointing out that El Salvador is in a seismic zone and has a number of active volcanoes.

When the original protesters learned that there was not one, but twelve possible mining projects slated for the Salvadoran highlands, which is where the country's drinking water comes from, the protest went national. This tiny, densely populated country depends on a single watershed, so any mining activity affects everyone's water supply. The protests slowed Pacific Rim's application for mining permits, and in 2008 the Salvadoran president decreed that no mining activity would take place in the country. His successor after the 2009 election upheld that promise. Pacific Rim has never had a permit to mine in El Salvador.

In answer, Pacific Rim sued the Salvadoran government for 77 million dollars of 'lost profits.' (Question: if Pacific Rim never had permission to mine, how can the profits be considered lost? Indeed, did they ever even have profits?) Pacific Rim launched two law suits against the government of El Salvador, one under the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) and one under Salvadoran investment law. Canada isn't a party to CAFTA but the US is, so Pacific Rim reincorporated its Cayman Island subsidiary in Nevada so that it could challenge the Salvadoran government under the CAFTA agreement. Both suits were to be heard by the same tribunal - the World Bank's International Center for the Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID). About two weeks ago, ICSID ruled that it would not hear Pacific Rim's case under CAFTA because Pacific Rim hadn't been incorporated in the US at the relevant time. However, ICSID did rule that it would hear Pacific Rim's suit under Salvadoran law. Without knowing more about CAFTA and Salvadoran law, I have no idea what Pacific Rim's chances of success are and whether they would have been better or worse under CAFTA. What I do know is that this is costing the country millions in legal fees - about $5 million at last count. The people who I was with today want Pacific Rim to drop the law suit and go home so that the government can spend that money on much needed development. Can you blame them?

*I got all my numbers from http://www.miningwatch.ca/blog/pacific-rim-mining-lawsuit-saga-prolonged-costs-mount-company-and-people-el-salvador

Beach weekend! Ok, well, beach day

We had it all planned out: the timing, the driver, the accommodation... and then nothing happened as planned, obviously.

We wanted to go to the beach.

With Rosie in the States attending AGMs for her NGO, nobody living in 292 Calle Estalmoco was both willing and able to drive her car to the beach. Let me tell you a little about Rosie's car. His name is Pitufo (Smurf). He is a tiny, dark blue hatchback of uncertain origin. His age is undetermined. If you light a match near him when his engine is running I won't vouch for your safety. He is held together with duct tape, promises, and Rosie's love.

Fredy was willing to drive Pitufo to the beach, but unable to do so because he doesn't have a full license yet. I was able to drive Pitufo, but definitely not willing to (a) work his rickety clutch, especially given that, (b) everyone in El Salvador drives as fast the French on roads as twisty as Roger's Pass through the Rocky Mountains. Luckily everyone loves the beach, and Rosie's friend Marion was more than willing to drive us down there. Driver: check.

Fredy had called some friends of his, a lovely couple named Rene and Sandra who have a beach house on playa San Blas about an hour south of San Salvador, and they graciously agreed to spend the weekend at the beach and allow us to join them. We were going to head out Saturday afternoon at 2, get there around 3:30, and have most of the afternoon and evening at the beach and all of the next day. Accommodation: check. Itinerary: check.

On Saturday morning Fredy took Leah and I to see the church where Monsenor Romero was shot in 1980, the event which catalyzed El Salvador's civil war. It was moving, and I think it deserves its own blog post so I'll write another one later. As we were leaving the church, Fredy got a call from Rene and Sandra saying that some small nephew had broken a bone and was in the hospital. It wasn't serious, so they didn't cancel the beach trip, but they needed to spend most of the afternoon by his bedside in order to fulfill family obligations. Our departure time was pushed back to 7pm.

The hours in between were filled with an impromptu guitar lesson and Beatles sing-along. I think we probably sang for two hours. At 6 o'clock Rene called to say they had left the hospital early and were coming over right away! Seven o'clock came and went, and there was no sign of Rene and Sandra. Marion drove us to the grocery store to get food. At 7:30 we finally got a hold of them. Apparently their cousin had decided to join us and they had gone to get her swimsuit. They arrived at 8:45, apologizing for having made us wait. They really are nice people, they just have a small punctuality problem. 

Any residual annoyance was forgotten when we got to their adorable beach house. A small swimming pool sat surrounded by palms and banana trees, complete with a table built into the water. The house was spacious and airy, with an outdoor kitchen and a hammock. It was a five minute walk from the beach.

Sunday morning was hot and sunny with clear blue skies. The mosquitoes were so vicious that we spent most of the morning submerged, hippo-like, in the pool. We emerged for food and then went straight back into the water. After lunch we went to the beach. I thought it was beautiful, and apparently it's not even the nicest beach in El Salvador. For the surfers out there, it has one of the best right-point breaks in the world. Don't ask me what that means, I don't know. What I do know is that the rip tides were strong and the waves were big! Each one crashed in a perfect arc and we spent hours jumping over them and diving under them. Small boys were doing tricks on surfboards that I could only dream of. The beach itself is partly black sand because El Salvador has so many active volcanoes. It also has a lot of flesh-coloured driftwood. For one horrible moment, I thought that a log was a naked fat man half buried in sand.

Not this log; another one

Fredy and Leah

Me and Leah

Daredevil children

We went back to the house and decided that the weekend wouldn't be complete unless we got pina coladas. Rene and Sandra's beach house is part of a gated community with a fancy club house that makes a mean pina colada for $3.50. Rene and Sandra came with us to let us into the club and we all drank on the terrace by the beach as the waves rolled in. 

Up to this point my sunscreen had worked great, but my luck ran out around 4pm. I didn't reapply because in Canada, after 4pm is the safe time for the melanin-less freaks that walk among you. There is no safe time in El Salvador, apparently. I managed to get a burn that looked like a racing stripe up the front of each thigh, and another one on my stomach that starts so high it looks like I was wearing granny panties (I wasn't, I swear). That one is also mottled because I had drops of seawater all over me. I took pictures of everything on this trip, but not that. I will leave it to your imagination.

We left around 6:30pm to avoid the traffic on the highway back to San Salvador. Dark was falling and a full moon hung low over the misty jungle canyons as the highway wended its way along the mountain side. It was a really beautiful beach day.  

Lago Coatepeque, the Playboys' Playground

Last weekend Leah, Rosie, Fredy and I all drove into a volcano crater and went swimming. You'll be happy to know that the volcano was long extinct and a lake has formed in the giant crater - Lago Coatepeque. As we drove down the unpaved switchbacks into the crater, we glimpsed manicured lawns and terraced gardens behind the high walls of the mansions on the side of the road closer to the lake. It's called the 'playground of the wealthy' and their playboy sons were out in force on their ski-doos and other obnoxious watercraft. On the hilly side of the road just a few feet away, people lived in homes of corrugated tin, wood, and plastic. With the government trying to build El Salvador's tourism industry from the ground up, I'm not sure how long it will take the Tourism Police to knock on their doors and ask them to get rich or move (this country with 99 gang problems actually has a Tourism Police. I saw them ski-dooing around the lake protecting us from Ogo Pogo or something). If that happens, at least Rosie will be there to help them organize.

The water was really beautiful and clear and would have made for great pictures, but I was swimming while the sun was out and didn't think to take pictures until the skies opened. It's still beautiful, but you'll have to imagine the dazzling sunlight. This coming weekend we're off to the beach!

Feliz Cumpleanos and my first week at FESPAD

Soooo, it was my birthday yesterday :). It was a great day. My work threw a surprise party for me complete with cake and balloons, and in the evening I went salsa dancing with Leah, Rosie, Freddy, and a bunch of their friends. It was a great way to wrap up our first week at work.

The previous blog posts were written during my orientation week, which mostly consisted of learning bus routes, getting comfortable in the city, and attending cool social justice talks that would have been cooler if I had understood more than one word in ten. I learned a lot despite the language barrier, like that El Salvador is in the midst of developing specialized environmental courts to deal with breaches of environmental rights in the country, and that all of its gangs originated in Los Angeles. When Salvadorans fled the brutal civil war that raged from 1980 to 1992, many of them ended up as refugees in LA. They were surrounded by Chicano (Mexican-American) gangs and formed their own gangs to defend themselves. The American government dealt with the problem by deporting the Salvadorans (presumably they waited until the war was over before they did that). And once back in El Salvador, the gangs stopped being about protection. They grew more violent and vicious than they had ever been in the States, cornering the drug trade and committing terrible crimes with impunity. That's what I meant last week when I said that El Salvador actually has reasons to blame foreigners for their gang problem.

My work, FESPAD*, actually works with youth who ended up in prison due to participation in gang activity, teaching them about their rights and how to get help once they're let out (if they're let out) - that's not what I do with them though. Leah and I are working on a report on public-private partnerships (P3s). It took us all week to figure out what our purpose at FESPAD was, but we finally realized that nobody else had a clear ideal of what our purpose was beyond wanting to know more about P3s. The context is this new bilateral trade agreement that El Salvador signed with the US; it's called Partnership for Growth (PFG). PFG is basically a 5-year plan in which El Salvador cracks down on crime while trying to grow exports and attract foreign private investment and the US offers 'technical assistance' while opening El Salvador's economy even more for their firms. This page has links to the three documents that make up PFG if you feel like gouging your eyes out in frustration: http://luterano.blogspot.com/2011/11/us-el-salvador-partnership.html.

El Salvador signed the PFG this last November, and one of the first things the President has done is introduce a new bill regarding P3s. If passed, it would make P3s the preferred way of providing most public services and financing most public infrastructure projects. In many cases government ministries would not be given a choice - the law would oblige them to use P3s. The bill is being debated in the Legislative Assembly right now and everyone swoons over it. My boss is going to try to bring an alternative perspective to the debate, so Leah and I are researching P3s to give him ammunition. We're going to teach him about the theory and practice of P3s, when they work well and when they don't, the sorts of impacts they have on users of the systems and infrastructure they have created, and point out ways in which the bill is flawed. All of this means we have to learn a lot about P3s quickly!

It took us all week to figure this out and create a work plan, and we decided to meet with the boss on Friday afternoon to run it by him. But he came to us in the morning and asked if we could meet then. Then he asked us about how we liked El Salvador, whether we'd been to the beach yet, and even what we'd eaten for breakfast. Then all of a sudden he declared the meeting over and walked us back to our office. We turned on the lights and everyone yelled 'SORPRESA!' We were definitely surprised! It was very sweet and such a nice way to be welcomed to the office.

Today we woke up tired but happy after a night filled with salsa dancing, and went to a lake in a volcano crater. We swam and lounged in hammocks and suntanned (well, I probably haven't tanned because my skin is so white the sunlight just bounces off it). And I got some great pictures! But more on that next time...


*FESPAD stands for the Foundation for the Study and Application of the Law.

Chocobananas and Other Dangerous Things

Chocobananas are the most delicious things I have ever eaten. They are even more delicious than liquados, and that's saying something. To make them, you take a banana, put it on a stick, dip it in pure dark chocolate, sprinkle with nuts, and stick it in the freezer until the banana becomes sweet but not so hard that you can't bite it. Chocobananas are sold by the tiny elderly couple that lives across the street from our guesthouse. Leah and I have named them Choco-abuela and Choco-abuelo (Choco-grandma and Choco-grandpa). Every time they sell us a chocobanana - which is pretty much every day because they cost 35 cents - they tell us that we are beautiful and should be very careful because the streets are dangerous for blonde girls.

Warnings like this have been a constant theme since our arrival in El Salvador one week ago. As a result, we've both been very cautious - we don't take the bus at night and don't walk far after dark. But the truth is that we're not in much danger, and the colour of our hair has very little to do with it. The main source of violence in El Salvador is gangs. They dominate the trade in the drugs that travel overland from the suppliers in South America to the lucrative markets in North America. As far as I know, there are two main gangs. They are called the Maras and Calle 18, and the violence for which El Salvador is known is largely a result of turf wars between them. They kill each other, they kill police officers, and very, very occasionally they will commit acts of terrorism to make a political point. At night, they and/or smaller criminal elements will mug people and extort businesses. But they don't target foreigners here the way that they do in Ivory Coast. The Ivoirien government had a habit of blaming the French for all its problems and whipping up anti-caucasian sentiment to distract the populace from its own corruption and incompetency. Hence, it is very dangerous to have white skin in the Ivory Coast whenever there is political unrest, and there has been a lot of political unrest in that country.

Here, the government has good reason to blame the gang problem on foreigners, but it chooses not to (more on the history and evolution of Salvadoran gangs in another post). As a result, foreigners aren't targeted in a xenophobic frenzy for the purpose of hurting them. Here, a foreigner might be targeted because a mugger thinks they'll have a nice cell phone. It's easy to avoid this kind of problem by not wearing flashy jewelery, taking trusted taxis after dark and not carrying a nice cell phone or large amounts of cash. I bought my phone in Burkina Faso for a pittance. It has no bells and whistles and if a mugger took it from me he'd probably give it back in disgust. That actually happened to an American NGO worker I met yesterday, and her phone is nicer than mine. The really good thing about San Salvador is that so many people are willing to help. Through Rosie, we're plugged in with all the ex-pat NGO workers and the knowledge they've gained from living here for months or years. And Salvadorans are super nice to us too. Yesterday Leah and I asked a woman for help in getting off the bus at the right stop, and she helped us cross the lane of traffic to get to the bus, paid our fares and made sure we got off safely. Her name was Norma and I'm sad that we'll probably never see her again.

To tell you the truth, I'm probably never going to encounter violence during my time here. The Salvadorans who warn us to be careful are right to do so and we take them seriously, but I trust more in the lived experience of other foreigners since I'm likely to get the same treatment as them. They have consistently reported that things are fine as long as you're careful, and that traffic is way more dangerous than gangs or muggers. The thing that is actually the most dangerous is crossing the street to get my chocobananas.

To my adoring followers,

I know that you've been waiting a long time since my last blog. So have I. It's been a long time since I traveled anywhere more interesting than Toronto (sorry, Torontonians). But now I'm on the road again, and you can read about my inane observations and daily misadventures right here! 

I'm spending the next two and a half months in El Salvador, a small, beautiful, and somewhat troubled country on the West Coast of Central America. I've come to volunteer at a small and progressive legal research organization called FESPAD, which stands for Foundation for the Study of the Application of Law. Don't ask me what they want me to do yet; I still don't know. I'm sure someone will tell me before I'm supposed to start... 

I have not come here alone. My school set up the volunteer opportunity and I've come down here with a fellow first-year law student, Leah. She's eager to climb all the same volcanoes as me and we're already planning our first trip to the beach.  

The trip began eventfully. As might have been expected, my flight out of Toronto on American Airlines was delayed for 2 hours due to mechanical troubles and borderline incompetence. They did not feed us or let us off the plane. When we finally got to Miami, I had exactly 15 minutes to get on my connecting flight. First I was stuck behind an old lady getting off the plane, then behind a very slow man on the gangway as the seconds ticked down before my gate closed. I was tailgating him like crazy, but if he noticed he didn't care. I burst into the airport and heard them announcing, 'Could passenger Erica Stahl please report to gate D12 for check in to San Salvador,' 'Paging passenger Erica Stahl, this is the final boarding call for flight 925 to San Salvador.' That's the worst sound you can hear when travelling no matter what, but I had forgotten to write down the phone number of Rosie, the woman who was picking me up. If I came in on a later flight, I would have to pay the Miami airport for internet time so that I could find her number, and then find a payphone so that I could call her. Payphones seem to have gone the way of monocles, snuff boxes, and other quaint things, so basically I would have been screwed. I ran so fast my shoe nearly came off. Sweaty and breathless, I arrived at the gate as the attendant was packing up to leave. She let me on, and the plane took off minutes after I took my seat.

When I arrived in San Salvador, I realized that my bag had not been as fortunate as me. It was still languishing in Miami and wouldn't arrive for at least a day. Luckily I had foreseen this eventuality and packed some clothes in my carry on. I registered my bag with the lost luggage people and went outside to find Rosie.

The drive to San Salvador from the airport is very beautiful. The airport is on a coastal plain, while San Salvador sits in the mountains several hundred feet above. The highway is well maintained and smooth. We drove through foothills covered in lush rain forest, river valleys opening below us. 

San Salvador itself is really comfortable. Most people have cars and I have seen very few people begging or sleeping on the streets. There are definitely signs of the civil war and gangs, but the violence that this country is known for is very targeted, and probably something I will never see. I've been learning about it though, so I'll write about that in a later blog post when I know some more.

Since I arrived on Saturday I've spent the time hanging out with Leah and Jessie, who is showing us around. We're getting to know the bus system and we often duck into tiny restaurants to avoid the downpours that occur at random times during the day (it's rainy season). We've eaten the national dish, pupusas, and I've discovered liquados, which are smoothies in a bag for $1. I plan to have one a day every day for the rest of my time here. 

Oh! Before I go, here is my number just in case you ever want to call me: (503) 7464-8939