Poverty Sucks

So I just got back from a parent meeting at the primary school in Chiaucingo, a nearby community. Earlier in the year we helped build 55 dry latrines there. Last year we supported a garden group there as well. What do I want to write? I was at the meeting because the school has 8 dry latrines - well, they modified their pit toilets with our special toilets that separate the urine and the excrement and it's not working. It's not working because the students don't have access to toilet paper, there isn't any dry material (lime mixed with dirt, or ash mixed with dirt) in the bathroom to sprinkle on top of the excrement. That's how the dry latrine stays dry and doesn't smell. Also, some people aren't being careful and poop in the front part which is only for urine, and thus plugging the tube with poop. yuk. Yes, this is what I do now, "human waste management" Martin calls it. I go to community meetings and help people get over their "caca fobia". We talked about how to improve the dry latrine situation at the primary school. Next I will have a meeting with the parent committee, a group of 8 parents, and we'll assign specific tasks.

I stayed for the rest of the meeting, curious to hear what else they would discuss. So many memories and emotions swirled about inside. To name a few, whatever I do next (after MCC) it needs to include speaking lots of Spanish, remembered my time student teaching in Cuernavaca - 40 first graders and no supplies (NONE), students in Pilsen, how hard it is to teach when students come to school late, unkept and without their supplies.

I was impressed with the parents at this meeting. Many of them spoke openly about how they as parents need to do a better job, take more responsibility, be better examples.

The principal ended by telling the parents that he would let them know next week if the teachers were going to participate in the strike or not. Teachers in the neighboring states of Morelos and Oaxaca have been on strike - school never started. Now teachers here in Guerrero are trying to decide if and how they are going to join.

I guess I didn't really write specifically about poverty. I'll just say that sometimes the poverty that my friends live with everyday stands out, impacts me, moves me. And sometimes it doesn't. Tonight it did and I came home with a heavy heart. Thus the title of this post.