Dermot - El Hogar del Buen Samaritano

I feel that my fellow countrymen and women of the developed world have failed the people of Viñani. Worse still, I feel that we have failed them not by our indifference (normally the great obstacle to realizing change), but by our moral certitude in knowing what is “right” for those people. With reference to my November entry, I give great credence to Ivan Illich when he says that the road to a third world hell is paved with good (Western) intentions. I see Illich's “path” clearly visible every time I walk into the Hogar del Buen Samaritano in Viñani, a place almost destroyed by the altruism of Western volunteers and NGOs.

The outward appearances of the Hogar are probably what you expect when you hear “third world orphanage.” The building is decrepit, the 17 kids who live there flea-ridden, their clothes threadbare, and their physical size well below the average for their age. This place is right out of a late-night infomercial for Save the Children.

The Hogar is run by an enigmatic and now-evangelical ex-convict named Fermin. He is the type of person who would be barred from running such a social service in the US. I sometimes think that Fermin is a reformed man who was raised on the street and is now desirous to give back to his community, even if he lacks some of the skills to do so effectively. Other days, I think he might be a scoundrel who has successfully manipulated well-intentioned North Americans and Europeans into supporting an enterprise that is more exploitative than it is nutritive to the kids he is raising.

I can’t divine Fermin’s intentions. I can’t determine if the kids are abused or if they would be better on the street. But worse still, I always leave Viñani with the dangerous belief that more Western investment will solve all the kids' problems. I know that my family and friends are a generous bunch (many of whom donated to JVI, when asked). If I merely asked them to support me again at the Hogar, I am confident that I could raise a substantial sum. I am now convinced, though, that money is the wrong solution to this problem, given how ineffective I have seen such donations to be in the past.

A generous French NGO, for example, gave Fermin a new van to drive the kids around. Donating a car to the orphanage might sound like a great idea, as the kids could use a safer form of transportation and Fermin would not have to spend money and time on bus rides. Unfortunately, the van costs more to maintain and fill with gas than the amount saved on bus trips, a situation which is worsened by Fermin's overuse of the car for trips of convenience.

Similarly, a German Rotary Club built Fermin a bakery, in the hopes of making the Hogar economically self-sufficient. They forgot to consider, however, that making profits on bread requires constant, stream-lined, and large-scale production, a goal which cannot be achieved with Fermin's three small ovens. Adding to this problem, before I arrived in Peru, Fermin tried to launch the bread-making enterprise and forgot to factor the cost of electricity into the price of his product. He now faces a $200 electricity bill and another $200 in fines for failure to pay on time. Thus, the kids at the Hogar remain in desperate poverty, despite Western investment of what I would estimate to be over $15,000 (more than enough money to feed the orphans for years).

Fermin has also learned that Westerners are a good source of funds and continually asks me for money. It is easy to understand why. Our relationship from the beginning has been tainted on account of the donations made by my gringo antecedents. I have trouble leaving the place, knowing that I could give money to help out these kids, but cannot shake the idea that I could be contributing to a problem. With reference to my November entry, Bill Gates was right: complexity is a heady opponent to realizing change. As a corollary to this rule, charitable Westerners who oversimplify the poverty of the developing world do so at the peril of those they are supposedly trying to help.

I have no idea what to do at the Hogar. My current solution is to continue to accompany the kids. I organized a tooth brush campaign to get them all brushing their teeth a few months ago (see photos) and feel that this was at least partially helpful. I also continue to be the most popular person to give piggy-back rides and can take some comfort in lightening the mood for little kids who have too much to worry about.

The situation might improve next year, as we will have a volunteer position at Colegio Santa Cruz in Viñani. Brad Mills, a fellow JV who served one year in Bolivia and will be finishing his service in Peru, has recently joined us here in Tacna and will increase our contact with the albergue (refuge). I pray that if I can have more contact with the kids through Brad's connection to Viñani, they will trust me more and I will become wiser in the ways I can help.

I still haven't had the space to address Illich's worthy critique of JVI. Frankly, I have run out of space here. The rebuttal must wait until my third entry in this blog. Until then, Illich's haunting words will cause me to continually scrutinize my actions in Viñani, with the goal of preventing my falling into the trap of providing the same type of hurtful “beneficence” to the poor of Tacna.

Learn more about Dermot, here.