Our goal was simple enough: organize
the community. But simple and easy are not always synonymous. We all
knew that community organization was central to the project, but how
to achieve it was a matter of some contentious debates over what
might work best. Hold elections? Form committees? Call meetings?
Support existing “leaders”? We all knew that the stakes were
higher than before. Now that we had established our presence, one
wrong step might mean a loss of trust in the hearts and minds of the
Wichí. No 2nd chance. No plan B.
Initially we landed on a plan to go
house by house asking for nominations for a new communal committee
(the old one had been defunct for some 2 years or more), then holding
a community-wide lunch party to elect positions. When we began to
develop the idea in greater detail, however, we realized that it was
probably too dangerous. It's greatest advantage was also it's biggest
disadvantage—directness. If we tried to organize by creating a
committee the results could be incredibly good. A governing body
could create a greater awareness of the goals of the project,
delegate tasks, and motivate others to participate. At the same time,
if it didn't work, it could complicate existing tensions and even
create new conflicts, both within the community and perhaps even with
ADRA. Ultimately, we heeded history's advice: the last thing the
Wichí need is more politics.
Unfortunately, that meant that there
were now a lot of things up in the air. Too many things. As they kept
adding up, it began to weigh down on me, and doubt started seeping
in... Is this the right time? Are we in the right place? Are we the
right people? But there was one question that loomed above all
others. It felt like every person we talked to—both in the
community and in the town—had a blaring yellow warning sign above
their head saying, “You're not the first to try this. Others have
come with projects before, and they failed. How are you any
different?” It was never said in quite those words, but the message
was clear enough: we aren't convinced.
Others were completely certain,
although not in the way we wanted them to be. They were convinced
that we shouldn't be here at all. An article about our project had
appeared in the provincial newspaper of Salta, El Tribuno,
and apparently someone was angry enough to write us a strongly worded
editorial that appeared in the same newspaper. The first half was
about how it made her sick that professionals from the United States
would come to Salta with humanitarian projects in indigenous
communities, because foreigners always receive more than they give in
such situations, and that there are enough qualified people in
Argentina to do the same work. The second half was a direct attack on
our methodology, saying that our project intended on changing the way
of life and culture of the community by “civilizing” and
“globalizing” it.
We didn't respond to the editorial, but other rumors in the town and
in the community were going around too. ADRA tries to control the
Wichí communities it has worked in before. ADRA just wants to make
people work for them so that all the benefits will belong to ADRA or
the government afterwards. ADRA doesn't actually have any money and
is just promising things to the people. And so on... In general we
chose to ignore these accusations unless someone spoke to us directly
about them. Very few people actually seemed to believe them, so we
figured that giving them attention would probably make them seem more
valid than if we simply brushed them off as insignificant.
The
strategy seemed to work. The rumors generally died out as quickly as
they had come. But in a way they did affect our work, albeit
indirectly. We became more cautious, taking things slower and
planning larger time intervals for our short-term project goals. We
discussed the overall project idea in more depth, making sure that it
was the best fit given our abilities and the response of the
community. We even went a little less often to La Misión, although
that was partially because we had so much data entry to do and
because I got sick for a couple of days.
And
ultimately, we changed how we talked to people in the community.
Before, it always felt like I had a mission to complete with every
person I talked to. No matter what the conversation was, I knew that
by the end of the conversation I would be trying to explain the
project or tell them about ADRA's work or let them know about
upcoming activities, regardless if they asked me for this information
or not. Now that one of the biggest hurdles of the beginning of the
project had passed, we decided to take a step back and simply listen.
We took a more genuine interest in what people wanted to say to us,
and listened to the the details of their daily lives, their history,
their needs and ideas and dreams. Obviously we were ready for a
conversation about ADRA if they started one, but that was no longer
our goal. We wanted to really know in depth—not just in numbers—the
people we were working with.
Sometimes,
but not always, this resulted in profound discussions and the
beginnings of new friendships. Stories about childhood games or
learning a father's trade. Stories about travels to far away places
or adventures in the woods. Stories about sickness or the suffering
of generations past. I was affected most by personal accounts of
discrimination at the hands of los blancos
(the whites, i.e. non-indigenous). Being mistreated in school,
getting sued for hunting in the forest, being called an indio.
In the
end, this strategy proved doubly effective. Not only did we feel more
comfortable, having done away with our agenda-driven dialogue, but
the people community in the community were opening up more. Even
though the conversation often ended up in the same place, a friendly
visit— from someone who knew their name—was much better received
than the two-minute stock speech we had been giving before.
I
still had my doubts, and the community certainly still had theirs,
but I knew we were not wasting time. On the contrary, we were forming
relationships that would be elemental in initiating and developing
the project. Without those bonds, we would continue to be viewed as
outsiders proposing ideas they don't identify with. A real waste of
time.
(I
apologize for having so few pictures, they take a very long time to
upload!)
No comments:
Post a Comment