De generación en generación, perdura en mi familia la leyenda de un negro esclavo, el padre de mi tatarabuela, que un día dicen que se marchó manigua adentro y no volvió a aparecer. Solía mi abuela concluir su relato recordando que aquel negro lucumí se había ido volando a su tierra, y pasaba enseguida a contarme otra historia.
Last March, after reading several online articles about the expected increase in prostitution and human trafficking in relation to the World Cup in Brazil, I decided to research the issue of child prostitution. Although I expected this to be a complex issue, I did not realize how many challenges and myths I would encounter while researching the topic.
As the fifth anniversary of the 7.0 magnitude Haitian earthquake passed on January 12th, one would hope to see substantial recovery with new infrastructure, improved health conditions and more efficient governance. As a country of only 10 million, nearly 1.5 million or 15% of Haitians were displaced and homeless after the rubble settled five years ago.
Having only been in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, for one week, I cannot tell you very much about life here except for what I’ve observed in my short amount of time. If there’s one thing that is clear, it’s that the people of Rio want you to know that favelas aren’t dangerous. Favelas, which can only best be described as shantytowns built on the hills and mountains of the city, are also known as “comunidades,” or communities, among the more politically correct.
Diverse studies observe that social conflicts and protests arise in areas where natural resource extraction occurs (Arellano-Yanguas 2011a, b). Recently, several intense localized protests have occurred at mining sites in almost all the democratic countries of Latin America (except in Paraguay); for instance, these social demonstrations have arisen in Peru (Conga), Chile (Mina Invierno), Argentina (Fanatina), Panama (Cerro Colorado), Uruguay (Aratirí), Costa Rica (Crucitas de Crutis), and Ecuador (Fruta del Norte).
