We are walking several kilometers to a more remote sector in El Tololar. It is 90+ degrees of dry heat, walking along a road covered in volcanic ash, crossing an even dustier riverbed that is impassible in the wet season to the most poor portion of the community we will see. Bright colored clothing contrast the dust of poverty.
A girl is washing clothing, smiling at me while I watch her deliberate movements. I sense pride in her work, her shirt and skirt are clean against the dusty background. Judging by the amount of dust covering my own body, washing clothes is a frequent activity in these parts. In the background, children in school are playing in their blue and white uniforms. The girl is no longer attending school, needed at home for the family’s survival.
Carlos, a nurse from the health post, is going from home to home looking for a brigadista to serve this sector, while reinforcing education on leptospirosis and clean well water. He is encouraging the people here to cover their well with plastic to avoid illness, but the people ask who will provide the expensive plastic to accomplish this. My heart sinks as Carlos explains how he told the community to cover the well last year as well, but they have not done this because they cannot purchase a simple plastic tarp.
In a way, I feel guilty thinking of all of the waste I see at home and how that waste would be such a resource here. I know I cannot change the situation, but it has further changed my perspective on my own resources.
