I’ve been in Costa Rica for 10 days working with one of our partners DNI (Defensa di Ninos y Ninas Internacional). I have been commissioned by Anti-Slavery International to run capacity building workshops in Costa Rica, Tanzania and the Philippines over the next 6 months. I’ve just finished the first of these in Costa Rica facilitating with Children Unite’s Chair, Mariela who also happens to work for Anti-Slavery and is a fluent Spanish speaker.
We were able to visit a slum area in San Jose called La Carpio – where DNI runs a project for child domestic workers. La Carpio is also called ‘little Nicaragua’ as nearly all it’s residents having migrated from Nicaragua, it is very poor. We were given a tour of La Carpio by Nila – a local community leader who explained all the community activities she was involved in as volunteer, (on top of her 2 jobs as a domestic worker). Her commitment to her community was inspiring and I’ve noticed that the more I visit grass-roots organisations the more ‘Nilas’ I meet. I know this sounds like a cliché but they are the real heroes. They are the ones I think of when people tell me how ‘good’ I am because I work on this issue and I squirm because I know that the Nilas of this world make so much more of a sacrifice than I ever could. But, this time I made Nila laugh her socks off and I want to share my (slightly humiliating) story with you!! Nila was showing Mariela and I the dirty black river in the community (which was quite a torrent as there’s been a cyclone over Costa Rica for the past week) and over the river was a rickety old swing bridge. As we got closer Mariela and I asked if we’d have to cross the river and Nila said no which we were relieved about. So we stood at one end and watched the kids running across it without a care in the world. Mariela was first to succumb to the inner challenge to cross it and off she went with two girls who had also been our tour guides with Nila. So, of course, as Mariela had done it I felt obliged and started crossing…however, half way across I heard lots of shouting (from Mariela) and the bridge started swinging and wobbling as a bunch of 5 or 6 boys were shaking it, jumping up and down on it and laughing at me - the gringa, clinging on for dear life and screaming at them – one of boys came racing under my arms and up the other side. I eventually made it across the bridge but then had to think about getting back.! Me and the two girls (yep they went across again!) waited for the boys to go a bit further away and then we practically ran back over the bridge shouting ‘rapido, rapido’ in case the boys came to play the trick on me again!! Mariela was very worried about me but Nila was laughing her head off – it was at that point we found out that she won’t cross the bridge ever and thought we were completely mad!! But when Mariela questioned me about it I realized I hadn’t been scared, I should have been, but I wasn’t and I rather admired the boys…if I’d have been one these boys I would have done the same. I don’t really know what the moral of this tale is but Mariela said ‘THIS is the story from La Carpio’ so I guess there doesn’t really need to be one this time!
