At Risk: Going the Extra Mile and then some

Guatemala is the Most “At Risk” Non-Island Country in the world.

A recent UN sponsored study finds Guatemala’s risk of natural disasters to be extraordinarily high. While we knew this instinctively, the report confirms the difficulties our neighbors face from catastrophic events.

Santa Cruz Barillas, a remote municipality of 140,000 people, is a good example of both Guatemala’s disaster problems and AMEDICAusa’s solutions. Barillas is located in the high mountains at the northern edge of Huehuetenango province, not far from the border with Mexico. Its people are a mix of Qʼanjobʼal Maya indigenous peoples and Ladinos. Most are poor.

Though it is far from Guatemala’s volcanoes, Barillas is at risk not only from the day to day emergencies common throughout the world, but also potentially catastrophic events specific to the area. The terrain is steep. Deforestation and the ever present rains present significant risk of major landslides. It is pummeled by rain storms both from the Caribbean and Pacific. Road washouts occur every year.

Forest and other wildland fires are common in the dry season. The terrain and lack of roads makes them very difficult to control.

Santa Cruz Barillas also sits very close to the Ixcan Fault, which has historically generated earthquakes as great as magnitude 7.5. Many of the structures are of brick/adobe construction, ill suited to bear the movement of a major earthquake.

At Risk… and Alone

Against these threats the people of Barillas depend on one small company of the Bomberos Voluntarios firefighters. Consisting of seven paid (including the chief) and eight volunteers, the 109 Compañía Bomberos Voluntarios does what it can, providing medical aid and emergency services 24 hour a day to both the city and the surrounding villages. They are grossly short of equipment. Their 1963 (yes, 1963…) Chevy fire engine hasn’t run in ten years, they have little personal protective gear, ancient helmets and no airpacks. They fight fire by bucket brigade. Their nearest working fire engine is over four hours away.

“This is why AMEDICAusa was called to Barillas. Nowhere is the ‘thin red line’ of firefighters more embattled than in the remote mountains of Guatemala. “-Neale Brown, President, AMEDICAusa

Going the extra mile.

Travelling to Barillas is not for the faint of heart. The limited access is over a lonely, high altitude “highway” which lacks pavement, road signs, guard rails, services and often visibility. The road crests at well over 10,000 feet. With steep grades, often near 10%, engines strain and starve for air. Potholes are pond size, rocks and small boulders are common, and landslides frequent. It is just wide enough for two careful vehicles to pass. Along with this, daily rainstorms and thick fog occur in the afternoon, and an average speed of around ten miles an hour is the best to be hoped for.

Our trip began at o’dark thirty, leaving from Retalhuleu, near the coast. We are in the “AMEDICA-mobile” a 2007 Hyundai Tucson, two wheel drive SUV, with a 170K miles on her. (More about this later.) Fresh from the mechanic, we are hoping she is at last in good enough shape for a back-country trip.

Laughably optimistic, Google predicts an nine hour drive to cover the 175 mile journey. Armed with a full fuel tank, coffee, ham sandwiches, chicharrones, bottles of flavored agua pura and our fire gear we set off on a climb of the central mountains of Guatemala. We started with the idea that we will arrive early enough in the day to meet with the director of the 109 Company in the afternoon. Alas, that was but a dream.

Mountain Climbing

Climbing the first mountain passes was marred only by the normal predawn parade of overloaded trucks and suicidal bus drivers passing around blind corners on the wrong side of the road. Normal enough for Guatemala. It garners no more than the average number of malditos from me.

Once we begin the climb out of the city of Huehuetenango, already at over 6000 feet, it got interesting. The Sierra de los Cuchumatanes mountains are steep and the roads are “iffy”, at best. The AMEDICA-Mobile struggles for air and we are often slowed to black-smoking, walking speed. It does give us a lot of time to admire the views, when not slalom driving around wheel-eating potholes.

Cresting the first mountain range, there is a wide, relatively flat plateau, broken up by rocky outcroppings. Sheep are the common livelihood here and small shepard’s casitas dot the plain. We are occasionally delayed by wandering ruminant traffic jams. Sheep are apparently immune to the noise of a car horn.

Ominously, clouds begin forming in the next range. When we attempt the steeper climb into the high mountains, we discover two things. First, the pavement disappears between the mountain towns. Second, pockets of dense fog are becoming trapped between peaks. Once again we slow to a crawl.

Driving Blind

Between the sections of missing pavement are several picturesque towns. Signs along the road are now split between Spanish and Qʼanjobʼal. Beautiful Churches and more traditional Maya clothing. San Juan Ixcoy, Soloma, San Miguel Ixtatán and the infamous Santa Eulalia. (Note, Google Maps and Waze work here but there is a LOT of missing data.) If you get turned around in Santa Eulalia, you will find yourself at the bottom of a 12% grade that is impossible to climb when it is wet. When you say goodby to Santa Eulalia you also say goodbye to any semblance of pavement for the rest of the trip.

Having said Buenas Tardes to pavement and bouncing furiously among now unavoidable holes and rocks, we soon get to say goodbye to visibility as well. Riding along the 10,000 foot mark, we are enveloped in the afternoon fog and rain that is a daily occurrence here. Gone are the vistas, totally hidden by the clouds. This may be fortunate, as the precarious drop at the side of the road and the lack of shoulders and guardrails are equally obscured.

We are driving by braille now. Tailgating the rare vehicle in front of us to guide on their lights is helpful. The occasional pedestrian or stray dog, horse or pig appear ghostlike in front of us, then vanish with equal rapidity.

After four hours of “nose against the glass” driving we arrive finally in Barillas. The fog dissipates as we drive into the valley and the city opens up before us. There is pavement (in some places) again. Five hours after our hoped-for arrival time… tired, hungry and mud spattered, we get a quick bite and retire to our hotel.

A Community at Risk.

Barillas is a big town, but from an Emergency Services perspective, it is a lonely place. Mutual aid, help from other fire departments, is not coming. It is four and a half hours or more to the next fire station. Far from the seat of government in Guatemala City, they have been fighting for two decades for a paved highway to no avail. More merchandise comes to town “informally” across the Mexican border than via more traditional routes. But you can’t strap a fire engine to a burro carry it across the Mexican frontier.

We met with the firefighters and officers at the modest fire station near the center of town. Welcoming us as brother firefighters, and proudly touring us around their spartan quarters, they are eager to discuss the issues of the company and the problems they face. In fact, both shifts and a few volunteers are in quarters for us.

“You can’t strap a fire engine to a burro and carry it across the Mexican frontier”

Some of the challenges faced by the firefighters are obvious. Terrain, narrow, often unpaved streets, haphazard electrical wiring, both inside and in the transmission lines, lack of zoning are omnipresent in Guatemala. The mercado, a large area of ramshackle, semi-permanent stalls housing small stores, is the major target hazard. A fire here could devastate the city.

Not so obvious is that the firefighters themselves are at risk. Lacking appropriate personal gear for firefighting, sufficient water and even a working fire engine the risk of serious injury is high. Even the routine EMS run presents significant hazards.

“They robbed us in the ambulance last month” relates one firefighter. “They took everything, shoes, jackets, money and equipment. All they left us was the ambulance and stretcher.” The incident took place at around midnight on a lonely stretch of the highway, in between towns. (This story added significantly to the stress later when we get stranded by a mechanical breakdown on the highway in the middle of the night.).

AMEDICAusa Bringing Aid to Barillas Firefighters

Our mission is, in large part, disaster relief. It is our belief that equipping and training the local first responders is far more effective than simply banking supplies and money for use after an event. It also provides for aid to at risk communities for incidents that don’t make international news.

We have already prepared a shipment of personal protective equipment for Barillas, sending more than a dozen complete sets of firefighting gear to the firefighters. We have also tentatively designated a fire engine for donation to the company. It is the least we could do. Of course, we will also be providing the training to go with it.

More trips to the mountains are in our future.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night

We thought we had had enough adventure on our route into Barillas. Leaving early in the morning was an attempt to at least miss the afternoon fogs and rain on our return. Unfortunately, this was not to be. We rattled through the early portion of the trip, but rains caught us as we arrived in Santa Eulalia. This was enough to prevent not only us, but an entire parade of other vehicles from climbing the mud slicked monster slope through town. Stuck in the vehicular clump, we waited more than two hours for the police to find and clear an alternate route for traffic to pass. With the added time it was almost dark when we began the climb to the summit outside San Juan Ixcoy.

We almost made it.

Just a kilometer below the summit, before reaching the plateau, the AMEDICA-Mobile gave up the ghost and absolutely refused to go farther. After dark, in a fog and rain storm, in the middle of the road, without shoulders, and at the end of a blind corner, she stalled. Starved for air, no amount of coaxing could get the vehicle to move more than a few feet.

Many words and phrases, in several languages, came immediately to mind. None are printable here. We are at risk in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

We Get Rescued… again

There are a great many advantages to having friends among the firefighters here in Guatemala. Like firefighters everywhere, they will give you the shirt off their back (sometimes literally) if you need it. The AMEDICA-Mobile has failed us a couple of times in the past, usually near a Fire Station where we were able to get assistance.

While the firefighters in Huehuetenango are still at least a couple of hours away, I chance a call to them to ask if they know of a tow truck in the area. An hour later they have our rescue arranged. Police arrive to help us move the car out of traffic and provide a little security while we wait. Comandante Walter Gomez in his command car and an ambulance arrive in two hours to carry us and our gear back to Huehuetenango and a hotel, and a tow truck is dispatched at first light to retrieve the AMEDICA-mobile and take it to the fire company mechanic.

We dined on cupcakes and coffee that evening, but not being stuck in the mountains all night (or being crushed by an overloaded tractor trailer) was a huge gift, as was the ride back to Retalhuleu the next day.

Donations Gladly Accepted

Normally at this point in a news post, I would add a little blurb to ask for donations, and it is time for our annual donation drive. The fact is we NEED a different vehicle. As we reach out to more remote areas the need for a heavier duty, four wheel drive, RELIABLE vehicle, capable of transporting our instructors and equipment, is becoming more obvious. It is hard to drive anywhere in Guatemala without crossing the mountains, and the old Hyundai is on her last legs. I guarantee your donations will go a long way.

Including that extra mile….

Click to Donate to AMEDICAusa

Embattled Nahualá Firefighters host AMEDICAusa visit

Nahualá firefighters have many obstacles to overcome, not the least of which is the altitude of their home. Located at just over 8000 feet, even cars can have difficulty with the lack of air pressure. The roads into their picturesque town crest at over 10,000 feet. Like your grandfather’s school, it is truly uphill both ways.

Our friend, Francisco Chox, known as El Chivo, the goat, has invited us here for a tour of the station and to meet the other firefighters of this highland town. Chox is widely known in the Guatemalan Fire Service community for having completed his final physical skills exam at the fire academy while wearing only the traditional Maya traje under his airpack and helmet. This makes our knees hurt to even think about. He still wears the traje on duty, though he jokes, NOT in a fire.

Francisco has often travelled far to attend AMEDICAusa classes in other parts of Guatemala. So we felt it was only fair to visit Nahualá in return.

A trip to Nahualá: 3 Hours in Second Gear

Travel in Guatemala is, at best, difficult. Driving from the pacific lowlands into the mountains can be tortuous. The roads are narrow, serpentine exercises in frustration. Swerving from lane to lane around giant potholes, immensely overloaded trucks grind their way up the road at walking speed. Every small village boasts a series of túmulos, carnivorous speed bumps, that will destroy your undercarriage if hit at speed. (Tire and wheel shops are a fixture on the road next to these hazards.) Chicken buses, brightly painted, converted former U.S. school buses and the most common form of motorized transportation in Guatemala, pass you uphill and around corners, daring descending vehicles to collide. (and they do so in alarming numbers.)

Divided highways become two lane roads, then one way, cobblestone streets without warning. While Google Maps is surprisingly useful in Guatemala, only the foolish or suicidal would ever trust a shortcut provided by the service. Add rain and the odd landslide or two, and we begin to practice our repertoire of Spanish curses. Our trip is only 60 road miles, but it takes a full three hours to complete.

From Tropical Summer to Eternal Spring

Our “base of operations” in Retalhuleu, Guatemala is in the extreme heat and humidity of the lowlands. We are pummeled by fierce afternoon thunderstorms but is sunny and very hot in the morning. It is a land generally covered in sugar cane, palms and mango fincas outside of the city. The terrain is flat, and only occasionally broken by a river or small hill. The smoking Volcán Santiaguito, one of three Guatemalan Volcanoes actively erupting, marks our departure from the lowlands, and our slow climb into the spring time weather of the mountains. Palm and banana trees give way to pines as we near the community of Nahualá. There is a 25 degree drop in temperature and a welcome breeze as we near the summit of the Pan American highway. Lago Atitlán, one of the most beautiful lakes in the world, can be glimpsed in the distance.

Nahualá is a K’iché Maya community.
Most of the residents speak K’iché as their primary language with spanish as their second.
As many as thirty percent do not speak Spanish at all.

K’iché is a melodious language, though, using sounds that do not exist in english or spanish, difficult for a gringo tongue. Inexplicably, it is odd to hear it spoken on the fire dispatch cellular telephone, as if an ancient language does not belong on modern technology. Substituting Spanish for the words that don’t exist in K’iché comes second nature to the firefighters. An interesting two and three language conversation arose, testing our patience as we groped for explanations and translations of fire department terminology.

Nahualá Firefighters: Rolling a Stone Uphill

Over 50,000 people live in Nahualá. Since most are indigenous Maya, most are impoverished. Protecting this town is one small fire company, 77 Compañía, Bomberos Voluntarios. The Nahualá firefighters are six “permanentes” (paid, career firefighters) and six more volunteers. The paid firefighters work a three man shift, on a 24 on and 24 off schedule for about $300 usd a month. Their fire engine is an elderly japanese truck, with 600 gallons of water and 100 feet of 1 1/2″ firehose. That’s it. No supply hose. There are no fire hydrants. There is no water tender (tanker). Meant for civilian use, what they call “firefighting” nozzles began life as standpipe nozzles in an American building somewhere. Of course, their bunker gear is threadbare and holed as well. Additionally, three of their twelve fire helmets date back to World War II, the others to at least the 1980’s.

Emergency Medical Care in the Cordillera

As in the U.S., in Guatemala the most common service provided by the Fire Department in emergency medical care. The firefighters are the primary source of EMS and ambulance transport throughout the country. Nahualá is no exception. The hospitals serving Nahualá are an hour or more away in either direction. Responding to these calls are two serviceable ambulance units, one a converted toyota van, the other a camper shell equipped pickup.

The van has a stretcher, an ancient Ferno model 30. Once common in the U.S. they are now largely abandoned because of the difficulty loading it into an ambulance, particularly here. (The K’iché are a diminutive people, it is the only place where we feel tall.) They can lift the stretcher only by sheer force of will. They are forced to lash it in place with rope because the floor mechanism that holds it in place is not available. On the other hand, only an old, unwheeled, wood and canvas military stretcher services the other. For bandages, equipment and other medical supplies, they rely on donations.

We talk over recent Nahualá recent calls, “War Stories” as they are referred to in the fire service. The nearest mutual aid fire companies are over an hour away. A month ago a tractor trailer plowed into a large group of people trying to assist a previous motor vehicle accident. The impact killed nineteen people and injured dozens more. Yesterday they spent eight hours on a mutual aid call retrieving the body of a french tourist who managed to walk over a cliff near Lake Atitlán.

AMEDICAusa to provide assistance

There is more to our trip than just a friendly chat. It is a chance to take a detailed look at what the fire company has, what they need and how we might help. After all, our disaster relief mission is training and equipping the fire and rescue services of Guatemala. An integral part of that process is evaluating the local services and sending our resources where they will do the most good.

Nahualá meets all of our criteria. A large population with a dedicated but under equipped fire company. No nearby mutual aid companies to assist, so we will not be duplicating services.. A willingness to train and work hard.

All we need is a little of your help.

Want to help in Nahualá and other impoverished areas of Guatemala? Donate a little of your hard earned money here. Contact us about donating used but serviceable fire equipment, PPE or apparatus. Get fully involved by joining us on a training mission in Guatemala. It is an experience you will not soon forget.

Click here to make a difference .

Your donation to AMEDICAusa, of whatever amount, helps save lives in Central America

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Donations to AMEDICAusa, Inc. are tax deductible under IRC section 170.

San Miguel los Lotes – Guatemala’s New Pompeii

Dinning Table where a family was just sitting down for lunch in San Miguel los Lotes, Guatemala (photo: AMEDICAusa)

Nothing was Unusual in San Miguel los Lotes

Zona Cero, Guatemala – A quiet, sunny, Sunday afternoon in the small Guatemalan town. The only day off for most of the villagers who commonly work sunrise to sunset six days a week, toiling in the fields of nearby fincas or tending one of the myriad Tiendas (tiny convenience stores) that dot the towns of the country. Some are just home from church, some are sleeping off Saturday’s ritual night out. Kids are playing inside and out. Dogs roam the streets. Mothers and grandmothers are setting lunch, Sunday’s main meal, on tables outside. Dominating the skyline above is Guatemala’s most active volcano, Volcán Fuego, emitting a pretty normal plume of ash and steam…

https://www.amedicausa.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/Volcan-Fuego-Eruption.mp4

Volcán Fuego Eruption – June 3, 2018, San Miguel los Lotes (Caution: Strong images)

Gray. Just Gray.

An overwhelming monochrome moonscape strikes you as soon as you arrive. As if someone has filtered out all the color from the world and left only the slight variations of tone found in old photographs. What little color remains is muted, dusty and somehow sadder for its rarity. A child’s shoe here, a discarded plastic cup there… but not nearly enough to brighten the landscape. What few leaves remain on the scorched and dying trees are dull, drooping and grey/tan. A sudden and very hot winter has come to the land of eternal spring. At first, you see what appears to be a scattering of small houses, dusty, dirty, and empty. It is only when you look closer that you realize that you are looking at the second story, the single story residences having been completely buried.

This is, in fact, one of the chief dangers of San Miguel los Lotes now.

A Dangerous Path

There is the Volcano, of course. It remains active and new eruptions are not only possible, but likely. We have posted a lookout just in case there is any activity during our survey. We are five miles from the main vent, close enough that there is some danger. Lahars are a threat as well, but less so, since there haven’t been heavy rains in the last two or three days. Dust is less of a problem since the rains have compacted much of the finer ash that would pose a heath risk. Still, we are careful not to scuff our feet or raise more dust than we absolutely have to.

Partially excavated for access, the main street of San Miguel los Lotes (photo: AMEDICAusa)

No, the most serious risk we face at the moment is the buried, unmarked houses. Most have laminate roofs, either metal or fiberglass, not very well supported in the best of times, now carrying the load of many tons of ash and rock. Some have already collapsed, leaving sandy, crater-like depressions in the earth, adding to the feeling you are on the moon.

It would take just a little more weight, say your footstep, to collapse a roof, drop you into the void and bury you in the ash that followed.

San Miguel los Lotes Before & After Eruption (photos: DigitalGlobe)

Learning from Disaster

AMEDICAusa had, of course, been active in the disaster recovery from the day of the eruption. Messages from our friends and firefighter colleagues in Guatemala started pouring in within minutes of the event. Clearly it was much worse than the initial news reports. It became quickly evident that there was severe shortages of even the most simple of rescue and emergency medical supplies. That became our priority. Our staff and volunteers were engaged in the effort to get supplies to the shelters, hospitals and first responders for the first two weeks after the disaster.But identifying needs, arranging donations and distribution of supplies from the States is not the same as being on the ground.

To learn what was done and what wasn’t, what worked and what didn’t, I needed to go to Zona Cero.

When in Doubt, Call the Fire Department

My first call was to my long time friend, Comandante Vinicio Calderon, Chief of 32 Compañía, Bomberos Voluntarios, in Patulul. In addition to his duties as Chief of Department, Calderon serves as commander of an entire regional division of Guatemalan’s Fire Service, some 16 cities, including the area near Volcán del Fuego. Calderon was part of the command team, and intimately involved in the emergency response to the eruption.

Zona Cero is a restricted area, for many reasons, but primarily because of the dangers involved in just being there. No one is allowed in without legitimate need. CONRED (Guatemala’s version of FEMA) keeps a tight reign on access. Even with prior arrangement, it took several hours and a lot of paperwork to obtain my unrestricted pass from CONRED. (I was asked for next of kin information and to which hospital I wished to be transported as well as my normal travel documents… an ominous touch.) They do not allow media access and the press has congregated in a small, semi-permanent knot around the zone’s roadblock.

Neale Brown and Comandante Vinicio Calderon at San Miguel los Lotes (photo: 32 Cia. Bomberos Voluntarios)

On The Road

The military counts people in and out, as even with an official pass, only so many are permitted in the zone at a time. We were held at the military guard station for over an hour and were allowed in only when enough workers had exited to counter our entrance.

The first half mile of the journey into the zone from the checkpoint is eerie. There is a fine coating of ash over everything, but for the most part it looks undamaged, but deserted. Houses, stores, even cars stand ready for use, but remain empty. Occasional stray dogs wander alongside the road. I wonder who, if anyone, takes care of them. A low, gray, rocky hill in the middle of the highway marks our entry into the true Zona Cero. Beyond this point the pavement ends, covered in hundreds of thousands of tons of volcanic ash and rock. A highway crew is parked next to the buried village. They are working feverishly to reopen Ruta 14, the main highway linking western Guatemala to Antigua.

A Walk on the Moon

Accompanied by Comandante Calderon and three of his firefighters who were here during the initial response to the eruption, we climbed the ash hill into the ruins of the village. There is a smell. At first, just a faint whiff of sulfur, then the strong smell of corruption and decay. It waxes and wanes as we walk, but it is always there. An awful reminder that this is now officially a cemetery, with a great many bodies still unrecovered. The Fire Chief relates how difficult it was to abandon the recovery effort.

We walked through some of the buildings that were still accessible. A neighborhood restaurant and bar, the chairs and tables scattered and overturned. The small kitchen of a home. The shrine to Virgen de Guadalupe that somehow survived the destruction of the rest of its building. The firefighters pointed out where they were able to affect rescues, and the more numerous places where they recovered the dead. Search markings left by the responders remain on the walls of those structures above the ash. A paint mark meaning three dead found here, or more commonly, no entry, no survivors. Over there, they say, is where we recovered the children, indicating a breached cement block wall where five children were found clutching each other on a bed. I’ve seen the photograph. I won’t reproduce it here.

Firefighters deal with their burning boots at San Miguel los Lotes

Firefighters faced increasing injuries, damage to equipment, and were finally chased out of the zone, at a dead run, in an emergency evacuation due to a lahar. Command ordered all rescue and recovery efforts to cease. Difficult as it was, the risk to the responders outweighed the bleak prospects for any remaining rescues. It was unpopular. Families wanted their loved ones recovered. Firefighters wanted to keep working.

It was, however, the correct decision.

Lessons learned and What is Needed Now?

Despite the danger, and the difficulty of the task, both mentally and physically, the firefighters didn’t want to give up. Hiking boots fell apart, the glue melting and the stitching charred by the latent heat of the debris. Gloves wore out in hours, abraded by the glass-like volcanic ash. Eyes grew red and irritated by the dust, leaking around cheap construction goggles. Coughing and sneezing from that which penetrated the masks.

Questions remain about the initial circumstances surrounding the government’s response to the disaster. The authorities were apparently meeting about whether or not to evacuate the area at the time of the eruption. This has raised something of a political firestorm, but is not related to the emergency response to the disaster after the eruption itself. By all accounts, while there were some difficulties, the fire service performed well, even heroically, in the response. There are some training issues, but the biggest problems involved equipment, or rather, the lack thereof. Boots and gloves for the responders were used up at a prodigious rate. Not designed for intense heat nor the abrasive volcanic materials what few they had were soon gone. Simple masks and goggles capable of filtering out the fine volcanic dust were in short supply.

The end of the pyroclastic flow at the furthest edge of the village. (photo: AMEDICAusa)

The Scope of the Disaster

The official toll stands at 169 fatalities, though they are only counting those victims whom they have identified. Firefighters Juan Bajxac and Antonio Castillo were killed in the eruption. Both were members of 55 Compañía CVB, Alotenango. CONRED official Juan Francisco Galindo and Police Officer Donaldo Chután Enríquez also gave their lives.

Juan Bajxac and Antonio Castillo of 55 Compañía, CVB, Alotenango, Guatemala, evacuating people from a bridge moments before their death.

Unofficially, authorities in the Guatemalan government and rescuers within Zona Cero have told us the the actual numbers are closer to 3,000 dead. Several small villages, not mapped or named, are not included. Hundreds more sustained injuries, including life threatening burns.

3,379 people remain in twelve official shelters. Thousands more being sheltered privately with family and friends.

San Miguel los Lotes has been declared a National Cemetery.

Relief Efforts Continue

The shelters for the survivors are exhausting many of their relief supplies. One shelter, the Finca de Industria in Esquintla, told me that they will run out of food on or about October 1st. They are also short of personal sanitation supplies and cleaning products. Fortunately, one of our partner organizations, Sociedad Cívico Cultural Guatemala of Chicago, Illinois, is delivering more than a truckload of supplies to the shelters this week to help ease the shortages. (Though many of the canned and dried foodstuffs they shipped have been held at the border, “until it can be determined if they are expired”. They aren’t – I helped pack a lot of them.) A lot more will be needed before the survivors can be resettled.

Plans for that are moving with glacial rapidity.

Want to help? The survivors and the first responders of the eruption of Volcán Fuego need a helping hand. You can make a donation to AMEDICAusa easily and securely here.

Canalitos: How We Made a Fire Chief Cry in Guatemala

AMEDICAusa – Delivering the goods in Canalitos, Guatemala

Canalitos: Welcome to the “Red Zone”

The cantón of Canalitos, known in Guatemala City as Zona 24, is one of the poorest and most dangerous parts of a city already infamous for gang violence and extreme poverty. You venture there with some trepidation, and only with good reason. It is designated a “Red Zone“. Once denoting areas controlled by the insurgents during the civil war, Red Zone is now the term for particularly dangerous, crime ridden areas.

Canalitos Firefighters on scene with a 17 year old girl, victim of a gang shooting.

Emergency Services in Zona 24 are provided by the Bomberos de Canalitos. A small, very young Fire Department, their Facebook page is littered with posts of shooting victims to which they have responded. Since they have no fire engine, they run primarily out of a small “Ambulance”, a worn out Toyota mini-van. Formally the private vehicle of the Fire Chief, it is showing its age. Bucket brigades are used to control any fires. Independent of the two national Guatemalan fire organizations, they struggle for support. Asking a Quetzal (13¢ U.S.) a month, what few funds they have come in small donations from local residents.

Building a Fire Company in Canalitos

We do not do much work in Guatemala City. We have a relationship, of course, with the Bomberos Voluntarios and Bomberos Municipales, and both have their national headquarters in the capitol. But, by and large, the capitol’s fire companies, while underfunded, have more equipment and training than their rural counterparts. They protect, after all, the homes and workplaces of the country’s congress, bureaucrats and most of the nation’s wealthy.

Canalitos is different. Annexed into the city almost as an afterthought – Guatemala’s major watersource of is here – few of the city’s services are available to residents. Neither national firefighting group is really interested in investing in such a poor area. Of course, very little tax revenue comes out of the barrio, so it remains largely ignored by the government.

Enter Pablo Muralles and Angelica Garrido‎. Veterans of Guatemala’s Bomberos Municipales, they created a new fire department where none had existed. With the grandiose name “Asociación de Emergencias Medicas Bomberos de Canalitos” (ASEMBOC) they took on a small, run-down commercial building for their station While building the department, they recruited at-risk youth to form the core of their firefighting force. Creating an alternative to the gangs and violence is important to them.

AMEDICAusa meeting in Guatemala City with (L-R) Pablo Muralles, Angelica Garrido, and Marisol Martinez of ASEMBOC

AMEDICAusa Gets Involved

Guatemalans are a close people, even when far removed from home. Carlos Luna, a Canalitos native now living in Chicago, brought the fire department to our attention. Luna runs a large Guatemalan community group in the windy city, as well as “Marimba Luna Maya” an international youth music group. He also holds down an everyday job. Carlos is a busy guy. But he still has time to try and help out his native barrio. He contacted AMEDICAusa after hearing how we help the Guatemalan fire services, and put us in touch with Comandante Muralles. A meeting was arranged in Guatemala (to which the firefighters brought Rellenitos, one of my favorite Guatemalan foods) where we got to know the department and it’s challenges.

A Long Journey for Fire Equipment

Of the things Bomberos de Canalitos lacks, perhaps none are so important as protective gear for the firefighters. Helmets, coats, jackets, gloves and boots are difficult to find, and very expensive in Guatemala. Even more difficult is to find them in matching colors and styles to outfit an entire fire company.It is not at all unusual to find firefighters in 1960’s era fiberglass helmets, canvas jackets and gardening gloves. ASEMBOC had some, courtesy of Carlos and the Chicago Fire department, but not nearly enough. Could AMEDICAusa help them out?

We had received a great donation of black turnout coats and pants from Waldwick Volunteer Fire Department in New Jersey. An equal number of fire helmets, nearly new, came from the Huntington Volunteer First Aid Squad in Long Island, New York. Boots from Pennsylvania, gloves from North Carolina. Yeah, we can do it! But how do we get it to Guatemala?

It really Does take a Whole Village

About this time, Volcán Fuego erupted in Guatemala, and AMEDICAusa was involved in the relief effort. The aftermath of the eruption brought the chapín community in Chicago together in a relief drive for the folks back home. Donations of clothes, medical supplies, food and money were being raised, and a Guatemalan-American shipping company, ServiExpress, had even donated the shipping. Carlos Luna asked if I would be interested in coming to Chicago to speak and help out at their relief event. (He also promised me the best Rellenitos north of Tikal if I would do it.) Space could be found for some fire gear he told me.

Not wanting to show up empty handed, I managed to stuff enough sets of turnout gear, helmets, gloves and boots to outfit Canalitos into my little car and set out for Chicago.

Chief Angelica Garrido sheds a tear while receiving an AMEDICAusa equipment donation

“I may have caused

a Fire Chief or two

to cry during my career,

but never before in happiness”

– Neale Brown, AMEDICAusa

Fortunately the Guatemalan community of Chicago were spared the agony of my public speaking, but we loaded A LOT of boxes that night. Enough to fill a couple of tractor trailers with donated goods. Included in that haul were our firefighting equipment, soon to be on its way to Guatemala.

So, two emergency service agencies, one Chicago community organization, one shipping company, one Maryland based non-profit, several dozen volunteers, and several thousands of miles later, the firefighters of Canalitos are a little bit safer tonight. It makes me want to cry a little too.

Next we have to find them a better Ambulance…. anybody got one to donate?

No,really…I’m Serious. Call me.

Hard to say who should be towing who…

Guatemala Hospital Saves Lives Despite Critical Shortages

**Babies, Sand and Machetes…*AMEDICAusa interns at the National Hospital of Retalhuleu***

A child clings to life in the Pediatric Emergency Room

There can be no observers here.
I am “bagging” a three month old baby girl. She has been brought into the hospital limp, pale and unconscious and with a obviously swollen belly. She hasn’t nursed for two days and was fussy and inconsolable yesterday. This morning her mother couldn’t wake her and rushed her into the emergency room tied to her back on a motorbike. Now she is no longer making an effort to breathe on her own.

She is in septic shock, likely the result of an intusseception, a rare intestinal condition that can kill part of the intestine and cause life threatening complications. Her life is dependent on a small tube inserted into her throat and continuing to squeeze the attached bag to inflate her lungs every few seconds. I took over the job of breathing for the baby when the nurse’s hands began to cramp.

The doctor and a nurse struggle to get an I.V. into the child. This is always difficult in a baby, much harder when they are in shock. I offer to start an inter-osseous line, a procedure we would commonly use in the States in this situation, but the hospital doesn’t have the necessary needles, and a regular catheter would likely break before penetrating the bone. I continue to breath for the baby. Finally they manage to place a very small IV. It will have to do. We’ll continue this until the infant goes into surgery and other staff will continue to manually breathe for her through the surgery and over the next two days. There is no mechanical ventilator available to take over.

Welcome to the Hero Hospital

The Weather Worn Sign of the Hospital Nacional, Retalhuleu, Guatemala

The first thing you notice here is the heat. Unsurprisingly, the western Guatemalan lowlands are hot in the summer. The daily afternoon thunderstorms raise the humidity to truly oppressive levels. A coastal breeze helps a little when outdoors, but it doesn’t reach into the hallways or exam rooms to provide even a little relief. Other than in the operating room, the air-conditioning doesn’t work.

Fanning with a notebook, Doctor Lorena Yancor. and student attempt to keep cool in the ER

The commercial fans installed to compensate are victims of overuse and age and have long given up the ghost. Doctors and staff have brought in a few personal fans here and there, but they are small, and ineffective beyond a couple of feet. The patients, family and staff, crowded in to cramped spaces, provide an additional source of heat…and without ventilation, a source of smells that are best left undescribed.

The Hospital Nacional of Retalhuleu is the primary source of medical care for the poorest of the poor in this part of Guatemala. Part of the country’s two-tier national healthcare system, it serves those who don’t have a regular paycheck: the campesinos (farm workers), the indigenous, and the unemployed. Like it’s sign, it is worn around the edges. Nicked and dented by uncountable stretchers, the paint could use another coat. But it is clean and kept so by a squad of mopping janitors, who make endless rounds of it’s floors. The hospital is chronically short of medicines, equipment and even routine maintenance supplies.

Reading x-rays by window light

There is one, elderly, x-ray machine to service the entire hospital and the waiting times are long. The films themselves are read through an open window…as the light-boxes generally don’t work. The lab, though reasonably well equipped, is dark…because they don’t have the florescent tubes to replace those burnt out. CT scans, MRIs, and the other modern diagnostic tools are a wishful dream.

The tools available here are primarily the hands, eyes and ears of the medical staff, and they are surprisingly good. Many of the senior staff have been here since the Hospital opened some thirty years ago. Eschewing the more lucrative practices they could have in Guatemala City (some 90% of all of Guatemala’s doctors reside in the capitol city), they continue to practice here where their talents can be put to the best use. All have become excellent diagnosticians and instructors for the medical students that often rotate through the hospital as part of their training.

AMEDICAusa is a supporter of the hospital, donating medicines and equipment in support of their efforts to treat the poor. (Among other things, AMEDICAusa donated most of the equipment for their gynecology clinic, where they had previously been forced to to exams on an office desk.) This time we brought several crates of pediatric medicines…and two talented students from the United States to serve a volunteer internship in the hospital.

The Pink Sand

Four kids come into the pediatric emergency room with their father. They range in age from 4-10. All have makeshift bandages, dishtowels, t-shirts, scraps of cloth, around their hands and feet. Dad is limping a little. A medical student unwraps one child’s hand and guesses she has a nasty skin infection of some sort. I look at the family. All the kids have the same infection and only on their hands and feet? Something isn’t right. I have another of the kids unwrap his hands. Under the dirty towel, and under the pink layer of calamine lotion that Guatemalans put on any type of skin disorder, his palms are shredded and blistered. Chemical burns?

A Child’s Chemical Burn in the Pediatric Emergency Room.

Dad is dressed in the unofficial uniform of a Guatemalan campesino, a farm worker. Worn, dirty jeans, a second hand t-shirt and a beat-up cowboy hat. A machete scabbard is on his belt. I ask if he lives in el campo. Yes, he says. He works in the fields. Do they use chemicals there? Yes, sometimes. Whats wrong with your leg? He points to the kids hands… el mismo..the same, he says. I call the chief pediatrician over and explain what I think this is. I ask the kids what they have been doing over the past couple of days. Playing in the new arena rosa… the pink sand…that they dumped near our house.

It is an industrial, urea based, fertilizer. Apparently, no one thought to tell the farm workers it was dangerous. The kids have been building sandcastles with it, and walking barefoot through the spillage. Dad has the same burns on his leg from repeated contact as he shoveled it into wheelbarrows.

Organized Chaos

The only formal waiting room in the hospital is in the outpatient clinic. All the other patients, for the emergency rooms, labor and delivery, OB/GYN and so forth, must wait patiently in the hallways, or under what little cover is available outside. Lines form in the hallways for each service, a mixture of patients and their families. All chat quietly while they wait. Well kids scurry about, playing improvised games underfoot. Mothers quietly nurse their babies while exchanging news with friends. None seem disturbed by the wait, even when the occasional fire department ambulance patient is rushed in ahead of them. They know the drill.

Dr. Gilberto Morales

Overseeing the operations is Dr. Gilberto Morales. A dapper man, he manages to appear calm and cool while nattily dressed in always-pressed shirt, tie and lab coat, despite the heat. It would be easy to rage in frustration at the job he is required to do, taking care of thousands of patients without sufficient resources, but he remains unruffled. He orchestrates the staff, building, equipment and patients with admirable restraint and aplomb. He has set up a rotation for our interns – Emergency, Pediatric Emergency, OB/GYN clinic, Labor and Delivery, and Surgery – where they will both learn the most, and be most helpful. After a brief tour of the hospital, the interns are handed off to the respective department chiefs.

Rites of Passage
In Los Campos, the communities of the farm workers, young boys at the age of 12 or 13 are given their first machete. This universal tool, kept honed to razor sharpness and carried in decorated sheaths, requires some practice to use efficiently and effectively. Like a baseball player with a bat, there are a lot of errant swings before mastering the hand-eye coordination necessary to hit consistently. The emergency room often sees those who have swung and missed.

AMEDICAusa volunteer Efim Oykhman repairs a machete wound

“Mario” is a thirteen year old boy who walked in to the ER with an embarrassed grin and his dirty, and now bloodstained, t-shirt wrapped around his right wrist. No longer attending school, he has joined his father in the fields of a local finca. He was chopping weeds out of a sugar cane field when an errant left handed swing hit his wrist, rather than the noxious plant he was aiming at. His is the third machete injury we have seen today.

It will be the first that our intern, Efim Oykhman, closes himself. He has assisted and observed in several previous procedures, and now is ready to do it himself. Under the watchful eye of the surgeon (called in to rule out any tendon injuries), he closes the wound with eight deft sutures, a little antibacterial ointment and a dressing. Mario goes home a little wiser, and Efim has successfully performed his first surgery. Both are happy…and a little relieved.

Treat ’em and Street ’em

Pediatrician Dr. Carlos René Jaime González, a native mexicano, very patiently explains to the parents of his tenth patient of the day that the pediatric emergency room is not where minor routine illnesses belong. First they should go to the local Clínica de Salud (Health Clinic) in their area. Second, for more serious problems, to the outpatient clinic. Only the really sick or injured are supposed to come to the pediatric emergency room. The lines to the emergency rooms are full of patients that really should be in the outpatient clinic on the other side of the hospital, but that area is full and the wait times are longer. Many of the patients have “self triaged” to the emergency room, and there is no staff to prevent that. The doctors are resigned to this, though it takes up valuable time. It also means that some very sick people are waiting outside, while less seriously ill manage to be seen first. Dr. Gonzales frequently checks the hallways to make sure a seriously sick or injured child isn’t waiting.

Dr Carlos René Jaime González and AMEDICAusa Volunteer Daria Smoliarchuk Discuss a Patient

The doctor’s at the Hospital Nacional don’t have the time to get to know their patients well. There simply isn’t enough time in a day to take detailed family histories nor fill out many forms. In Dr. Gonzales’ pediatric admitting room, the patients come in, get a quick once over and basic history, a rapid but thorough exam, then either medication samples off the shelves (yes, drug salesmen come even to Guatemalan ER’s) or a prescription for medicine from the hospital pharmacy (free) or their local farmacia if the hospital is out of medicines. Total elapsed time…maybe five to ten minutes for the average patient.

Few make it beyond the anteroom and into the three treatment beds in the pediatric ER. Those are reserved for those truly in need of emergency care. A asthmatic child working on his fourth nebulizer, a ten year old with a fractured arm, and our 3 month old with sepsis.

Our “Countess Dracula” Gets Her First Case

AMEDICAusa Volunteer intern holds retraction during surgery at Hospital Nacional Retalhuleu

Back in emergency a young woman comes in with severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting and fever. She has been suffering symptoms for two days. Dr. Lorena Yancor, Chief of Emergency services, checks in on the patient demonstrating techniques for abdominal assessment for our interns, while I translate and explain what she is looking for and why. This is why our interns are here, to learn to examine patients without the diagnostic tools available in the States. The patient has all the classic signs of appendicitis . A surgeon is called and he demonstrates again the same skills, as well as a couple of advanced techniques to confirm the diagnosis. Off to surgery she goes for an emergency appendectomy. The surgeon asks our intern if she would like to assist. Daria, drawn to blood like a moth to flame, and who appears magically when ever a patient comes in with an open wound, readily agrees. As it turns out, the surgery was just in time, and was more complicated than first thought. As the surgeon opens the patient, her appendix ruptures.

Twin Problems for Hospital Births

Prenatal care is still a rarity for most women in Guatemala, particularly in the poor and indigenous communities. Often a woman will go through her entire pregnancy and delivery without any medical care at all. Health and sex education is lacking, brought here only by NGO’s like AMEDICAusa and it’s partners.

Birthing in Guatemala is often attended by midwives, comadronas, who are largely untrained in modern medical techniques. They often rely solely on traditional indigenous practices and beliefs. Some are very good, and have received additional training from NGO’s and limited government programs. As a consequence, many of the births done in the hospital are complicated, referred here by midwives skilled enough to recognize problem pregnancies.

During our intern’s rotations in the OB/GYN clinic, labor and delivery, and surgery, fully half of the births were cesarean and most of these births were performed on an emergency basis. Prematurity, age of the mother (both very young and very old) and undiagnosed maternal medical problems are common issues.

“Maria” is a 19 year old woman who came in to the OB/GYN clinic with painless vaginal bleeding in what appears to be her third trimester of pregnancy. She doesn’t know exactly when her last period started, but she thinks it was last November or December, either eight or nine months ago, and she has had no prenatal care.

Healthy twins delivered by emergency C-Section at Hospital Nacional Retalhuleu

This is her second pregnancy – she had a healthy baby girl two years ago. Maria has been “spotting” off and on for a couple of days, but has more bleeding today and is having some irregular contractions. Her external abdominal exam reveals TWO fetal heads and possibly two sets of heart sounds. She is sent for an ultrasound, which reveals not only twins at about 36 weeks gestation, but also Placenta Previa, a condition that threatens both her life and those of her babies. An emergency c-section is called for and our interns are there to assist.

Medicine in a Disaster Zone

Once delivered, our twins are moved to the neonatal ward. Like all the other wards, the patients here are grouped together in large rooms without walls or curtains to separate the beds. The neonatal ward is a stark reminder of the disasters that are often visited on Guatemala. A large fissure has appeared, running vertically down a structural wall. The crack is the result of a 6.6 earthquake that occurred in June and effected the stability of the structure. The epicenter of the quake was 35 miles from the hospital. One man was killed, crushed by a wall collapse about a kilometer from the emergency room. The entire neonatal unit is going to have to be moved for safety until repairs can be made.

Earthquake damage in wall (L) of the neonatal unit of Hospital Nacional Retalhuleu

Outside the hospital, ash and steam clouds can occasionally be seen rising from explosive Volcan Santiaguito some 15 miles to the northeast. The hallways in the hospital have discrete triage system markings denoting catchment areas for patients in case of mass casualties.

They are as prepared as they can be, but shortages of supplies and equipment are worrisome.

Did you know?

AMEDICAusa provides support and equipment to the Hospital Nacional of Retalhuleu and other medical facilities for the poor and indigenous peoples of Guatemala. We can’t do it alone. Your donations are what make our programs possible. Please give generously.

Be an AMEDICAusa hero and donate here.

AMEDICAusa, inc. is an I.R.S. 501(C)(3) registered charity, headquartered in Frederick, Maryland.

We are always looking for volunteers who wish to help in Guatemala. Get the details here.

Tens of Thousands of Guatemala’s Children Can Not Go To School

The village school house at Aldea El Manchón, Guatemala

Simple School Program Helps fill gaps in rural Guatemalan Schools

El Manchón, Retalhuleu, Guatemala – The little blue and white schoolhouse on the beach in the village of El Manchón (the Jungle) is incredibly picturesque. Touched by sea breezes on nice days, dotted by sea grasses, across a rough and rutted road from the thatched roof village, surrounded by palms and year-round flowers, it seems almost idyllic.

Aldea El Manchón

But look a little closer and you will note some things that are apparent only in their absence. There is no electricity, nor running water. The little school building is careworn. Gaps in its clapboard walls provide some light, but allow in rain and insects with equal alacrity. Within it’s tiny two rooms are some forty three children and two teachers who often struggle to make it through the school year.

The people of El Manchón mostly work the River Lxqulla (Lsh-cú-ya), poling shallow boats deep into its tangled mangrove jungle, in search of fish and shrimp. Others are campesinos (farm workers) on nearby fincas, harvesting sugar cane. Laboring in the intense heat of Guatemala’s pacific lowlands, none make much more than a dollar or two a day.

On such meager wages, the struggle for food, clothes and shelter demand the lion’s share of income. School books, pens, pencils and such seem a luxury.

AMEDICAusa always knew, from experience in villages like El Manchón, that many children in Guatemala are unable to go to school because they simply can’t afford it. Many families are forced to chose which, if any, of their children can go to school. Often this choice is made in favor of the boys, as has been traditionally thought that girls have less need for education. The new government study highlights the problem.

A young boy poles his canoa in search of fish, instead of going to school, near El Manchón, Guatemala.

An over-sized pick-up, accompanied by a cloud of dust and the ambulance from the nearest town, thumps and sways down the “road” that leads into the village. The ambulance, filled with Champerico’s off duty firefighters, isn’t here for a medical emergency. The firefighters have volunteered to spend their day off helping AMEDICAusa distribute school supplies to El Manchón’s children and then to another school deeper in the mangroves. Though the village is more than an hour’s drive from Company 13’s fire station, they represent the only emergency services in the area.

When the worst of the dust settles, AMEDICAusa volunteers and the firefighters unload and dust off the cargo from the bed of the pickup, and carry it inside the school. After introductions and a short classroom exercise, the children are each given a small bag. The bags contain all the basic school supplies for three months. Notebooks, pens, pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners, crayons, and, for each, a rare lollipop.

The idea is simple. Provide enough school supplies to keep a family from having to decide between eating or sending their kids to school.

“Education here is key to escaping poverty.” said Neale Brown, President of AMEDICAusa. “Those who think these folk’s lives are simple and intellectually undemanding, need to understand the problems that confront their communities.”

“Expansion of sugar cane and palm oil plantations near the river have expanded their job market somewhat, but the wages in the fields are very low. It has given them some choices in where to work, but not the ability to escape poverty. Unfortunately, the new plantations require irrigation and a whole lot of water. Increasingly, this water is being drawn from the river, sometimes illegally, and has dropped the water flows in the river significantly. Robbing fresh water from the river removes it from the mangrove. It is increasing the salinity of the estuary, killing the trees, poisoning water wells, driving away the native wildlife and significantly harming the fishery. ” he says.

Fishing Vessel in Champerico in better days.

This challenge will be difficult to overcome for a fishing village. The area was hard hit by the decline of the fishing port of Champerico, whose jetty collapsed in 2003. The failed attempt at rebuilding the port in 2008 – 2010 did further damage to the mangroves, and worsened an already disastrous situation. The declining ecological conditions are just one more thing to contend with.

“El Manchón is not alone. Whether on the coast, in the lowlands or in the mountains, rural villages in Guatemala all face similar problems. Solutions to these problems will take an educated local population. The combination of local knowledge, tradition and education is the only way these communities can find the answers. Fortunately, the people of Guatemala are really motivated to make things better. Programs that help keep kids in school can really help them move forward.” said Brown.

The village’s future leaders studying at the El Manchón school

“It really didn’t take a government study for us to know that poverty was forcing kids out of school. We hear that all the time in the rural villages. It is good to know we are on the right track with our programs, but, if anything I think the census data understates the problem. “

New census reveals almost 150,000 Guatemalan kids not attending school

(Prensa Libre – Translated from Spanish) After consolidating the data obtained through the school census, the Ministry of Education (Mineduc) determined that of the 141,337 children who are not attending school, 37,706 are from San Marcos, Quiché and Huehuetenango.

By Yanira Alvizurez / Prensa Libre/ Guatemala

March 13, 2017 at 2:58 p.m.

The school census was carried out from January 16 to February 3 and was conducted in coordination with the departments of Education and local teachers. They visited homes near schools in 12,850 communities in both the urban and rural areas of Guatemala.

Juana Morales, a native of the village of La Puerta, Chinique, Quiché, says that poverty is one of the factors that influence school drop-out rates (Photo Prensa Libre: Héctor Cordero)

According to Mineduc authorities, the survey was designed for data collection, and the data was entered directly by teachers into the Educational Registry System (SIRE). They interviewed 20,412 people in urban areas and 120,000 in rural areas.

Minister Óscar Hugo López revealed that, after consolidating the data, it was determined that the Departments with the highest incidence of children between 4 and 15 years old who are not attending or enrolled in the school system are: Guatemala with 13,272; Huehuetenango 13,331; San Marcos, 12,996, and Quiché, 11,709. Followed by Peten with 9,456; Alta Verapaz, 9,669; Escuintla, 7,865; Chiquimula, 7,865, and Suchitepéquez, 7,103; Chimaltenango, 5,635; Totonicapan, 5,126; Baja Verapaz, 4,901; Santa Rosa, 4,780; Jutiapa, 4,669; Quetzaltenango, 4,624; Izabal, 4,236; Sacatepéquez, 4,098; Jalapa 3,155; Sololá, 2,487; Retalhuleu, 2,289; Zacapa, 2,241 and El Progreso 1,487.

He explained that of the total, 73,000 between 5 and 7 years, have never attended school, and they have no formal education. The remaining 68,000, between ages of 7 and 14 , had attended some degree of schooling but had to withdraw for a variety of reasons.

The official said that a very important problem identified is that in 371 communities visited there is no nearby school, and children must walk up to three hours to reach their establishments. In addition, 6,629 children with special educational needs were identified.

“The census did not represent significant costs to the budget of the Mineduc, since it was done with our own personnel,” said Lopez.

Government Efforts

The minister said that they will work on programs to improve access to coverage, including conditional cash transfers to support children who are not going to school for economic reasons, and the expansion of educational coverage, which will allow more six year olds to enter elementary school.

He explained: “With the support of teachers, supervisors and the Ministry of Social Development, it is hoped to obtain positive results in the short term for children outside the education system.”

Mario Chang, department director of Education in San Marcos, said that they recently implemented an awareness campaign to encourage parents to send their children to study, as enrollment for the school year expires on March 31.

Most Want to Go to School

Raquel Juan Mateo, from the north of Huehuetenango, who would be in eighth grade, says that his parents are engaged in agriculture and that there is not enough money for food.

“My dream is to be a policeman to help protect citizens, especially those with limited resources who, like me, have no right to education,” he said.

Francisco Juan Ramirez, 70, father of the boy, says that because of the poverty conditions in which they live, they do not have the money to buy school supplies.

“The education of children is not free; On the contrary, it represents an expense for the parents, that is why many are left without going to school, “added Maria Mateo, the boy’s mother.

Valentina Rodas does domestic work, as she is not enrolled in school (Photo Prensa Libre: Whitmer Barrera)

In the village of Colima Dos, San Pablo, San Marcos, live the Rhodas-Chilel siblings, four of the 12,996 children in the department who, due to lack of financial resources, left school.

“I would like to go to school, but my parents do not have the money to buy supplies, uniform and do homework,” said Valentina, 17, who can not read or write.

The family is joined by Pedro Morales, 9, whose dream is to be a teacher to support the poor children of the village of La Puerta Chinique, Quiché, where he comes from.

The mother of the child, Juana Morales, said that her husband works as a day laborer on a farm on the South Coast and earns very little.

With information from H. Cordero, M. Castillo and W. Barrer

Read the Story in Spanish at Prensa Libre

AMEDICAusa school supply mission in Champerico, Guatemala

AMEDICAusa’s simple school supply program makes it possible for more of the the poor and indigenous children of Guatemala to attend and stay in school. By providing basic school supplies directly to the children and helping the teachers with materials, we can make a big difference in the lives of these kids and their families. With careful allocation of donated dollars, we are able to do this at a very low cost, but it is not free. Your donation is critical to our programs. Each packet we deliver provides a child with the necessities for three months of school. Every $2 you donate allows us to reach one more kid. Your tax deductible donation can be easily and securely made through our donation page.

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