Final Report Art Relief after the Volcano
Eruption
The Day of the Eruption
The
Fuego volcano had been pretty active for months. There was nothing unusual
about its constant puffs and deep rumble, so nobody paid close attention. Not
even when a black rain started that noon. That was unusual, but not exceptional either. It had happened before, in
different places, depending on which way the wind blows.
That
Sunday, the 3rd of June of 2018, the area around the volcano, up to
100km away, was quickly covered in a soft layer of ashes. It was like walking
through black snow, all sounds muffled. My neighbourhood had transformed into
apocalyptic scene from a SF movie. People wandered around in astonishment and awe
before picking up a broom to start cleaning up.
A
few hours of sweeping later, with blisters on my hands, I took a break and
turned on the computer. That’s when I learned this disaster went way beyond
blisters from sweeping…
If
I recall correctly, the first shocking news was that the golf resort and luxury
hotel La Reunión was completely devastated. Nobody was hurt, all guests and
personal were evacuated on time. (Later a rumour went around that CONRED, the
Guatemalan emergency management agency, had warned the staff at the golf resort
but not the people in surrounding villages. This was denied both by CONRED as
well as the manager of the resort. That is likely the truth, but it does show
how yet again money matters: the safety of the guests was after all the
manager’s responsibility and the resort had the resources to evacuate whereas
the residents of the village were hesitant to leave their meagre possessions
behind and didn’t have how to leave or where to go.)
Then
the first deaths were reported. Grim images of people covered in ash being
rescued. The volunteer firemen and women were the heroes of the hour, working
tirelessly while the soles melted off their boots. The government conspicuous by its absence.
A
live video on Facebook: a dozen or so people stand near a bridge on highway
RN14, a huge cloud of grey ashes approaching. Towards the bridge a truck with two
fire fighters, stopping the people from getting any closer. The cloud comes
closer and closer, faster than anyone expected. People start to run. The cloud
takes over the highway. The footage stops.
Later
it became clear that everybody who had been standing there had perished. No
bodies were recovered.
The
cloud, it turned out, was pyroclastic flow. Nothing to do with the slowly
descending streams of lava, this current of hot gas and volcanic matter can
reach speeds and temperatures into the hundreds. It’s fast, hot and deadly. It
came down as a fatal surprise, through riverbeds and valleys, burying
everything in its way. Whole neighbourhoods where covered. Very few people who
were surprised by the flow managed to survive.
Everybody Wants to Help
Schools
and churches were opened as impromptu shelters while donations started to pour
in. It seemed everybody in Guatemala
(and beyond) want to help, give, do
something. But for President Jimmy Morales who announced that not a penny was
available for this kind of emergencies.
Relief
efforts started to get organized. Donations at collection centres were being
classified by hundreds of volunteers. The First Lady helped too. The goods she
handled weren’t even donated by her or the president, but it did look good on
Twitter.
Cooking
stations were set up to feed the people in the shelters as well as the fire
fighters and other volunteers.
Within
days after the disaster, the municipalities of Alotenango and Escuintla, the
towns which communities had been hit hardest, had taken over the operation of
the shelters and donations. Although some sort of organization was desperately
needed, by now the shelters had turned into semi prisons where hardly anyone
was allowed in or out.
At
a national level, the president announced that no international help was
needed. Later he changed his tune and said that all financial aid should be
channelled to one bank account, to be managed by the government. Meanwhile,
dozens of trucks full of goods collected by solidary people in Honduras and El Salvador were stuck at the
border.
I Want to Help Too!
This
disaster really struck home. The volcano, so near by; the town of Alotenango, settled on the
slopes of three volcanoes, so familiar. Of course I wanted to help too, but
how? I had no spare money to give and doubted very much that I’d make anybody
happy with a bag of old clothes or food from my kitchen. So besides fostering a
puppy that was rescued from Zone 0, I decided that the best thing I had to
offer were art workshops. Not formal classes, but, for starters, a bit of
painting, drawing, crafts, story telling and yoga. To distract the kids, to
keep them busy, and to provide them with a bit of entertainment. Maybe later
I’d be able to offer more structured activities focused on art therapy, in
collaboration with other artists.
I
announced my plans on Facebook and soon received some donations towards
materials. So far so good. Getting into the shelter for the actual workshop turned
out to me a whole different matter. A special permission was needed but the
coordinator to grant that permission seemed to be a different person every week
with no one ever answering any calls or messages. But thanks to the
perseverance and contacts of Abi Ruíz, administrator at the Carpentry project
Alotenango, we got in!
Art Relief
That
first day, June 8th we went in with Abi, three of her friends, and
plenty of supplies for several activities. The shelter we were assigned to was
the smaller annex of the public elementary school and housed around 120 people,
of which 70 were children (about half of them babies and toddlers). We set up
in the courtyard and were soon at work. Around 40 kids painted on the big
sheets, the volcano being a favourite subject. The older ones, including some
of the mothers liked the adult colouring pages. It was a bit of a surreal
experience. The kids were just kids, laughing, running and having fun,
completely oblivious of the fact that in one corner coffins were stacked up till
the ceiling and a steady flow of donations being stored away. Residents crossed
the patio on their way to the makeshift showers or to hang up laundry.
It
turned out that besides the activities organized by a group of psychologists of
Save the Children, there wasn’t much going on for the kids. Except for piñatas
and plenty of candy. Somehow people think that that’s what kids need in times
of distress. The kids were actually so saturated with candy that they left
their half eaten lollipops and bags of crisps all over the place. They were
barely interested when another church group with more candy or cheap toys would
come in. But they were very much into the art activities and storytelling. And
they themselves had some stories to tell too. Oh my, how hair raising it is to
hear a four-year-old tell you about how he and his mum ran for their lives
while grandpa decided to stay behind, trying to convince them that nothing
would happen…
The Surreal World of the Aftermath
For
the next three months a visit to the shelter in Alotenango became part of my
agenda, but never a routine. Wandering around Alotenango was a surreal
experience… For starters, the busses didn’t drive all the way into town, but
dropped its passengers off at the entrance, quite a walk from the town’s
centre. That made sense right after the disaster with so much extra traffic,
but three months later?
A
huge tent was set up in the Central Park where
wakes were held for the victims, their coffins lined up on stage. The first
week there were dozens of funerals. In the weeks to come the number went down,
as did the number of attendants, but still, almost daily the saddening tones of
a Catholic funeral march or Evangelical hymn would set the tone and became
daily life for those in Alotenango. Every time a funeral left from the Central
Park on the way to the cemetery, a solemn silence would descend, to be quickly
replaced by the hubbub of life-goes-on, the annoying tinkling of the ice-cream
vendor’s bell, the yells of the guy selling sugar candy as well as kids, dogs
and traffic, as soon as the last mourner was out of sight.
Always
busy too was the big tent where food was prepared and distributed to the people
in the shelters and volunteers. Next to it, three yellow tents of Scientology.
And lots of traffic. People kept coming with donations. Some of them refused to
drop their donations off at the Municipality and instead wanted to give their
donations directly, not taking in account that the people on the receiving end
shared a limited space with other families and didn’t really have any space to
store anything but the most needed.
It
was great that the tragedy created (initially) such an outpour of generosity
but maybe we really should wait and think hard, next time disaster strikes.
I’ve seen tons, literally tons of donations at the municipality, enough to
supply half the town and that was just at one recollection centre. I also saw,
only weeks ago, a lot of those donations been thrown away. Nothing worthy, just
stuff that didn’t survive or got mouldy, such as boxes of milk and noodle
soups. But more than ever I’m convinced that donating goods in the spur of the
moment is not a solution at all, it is a logistic nightmare. Why not give those
people cash? That way they can buy the goods they want or need and support the local economy at the same time.
Getting
our permission slip and then our tags wasn’t as routine either and despite the
fact that we reserved a timeslot a week beforehand, it often coincided with
other activities or a change of, yet again, the coordinator of the agenda. So
we never really knew how many kids to expect or where we could set up, Flexibility
became the main rule to prepare our
workshops by.
The
stream of visitors didn’t slow down after the first few weeks. The shelters had
become sort of a tourist attraction. Visitors from different organizations, churches
and enterprises came in, sometimes in big numbers, to... to do what, actually?
I saw a few groups doing fun games with the kids, educational activities or
group prayers with the adults. Others came in and just handed out bags of candy,
leaving with a blissful smile on their faces. Some visitors rudely interrupted
our activities, even our storytelling, by handing out their donation right
there and then, rather than waiting two minutes till the story was finished.
And some people gave really stupid
donations too. Besides the candy, what about cheap knock-off Crocs, for only half the number children present??? Or
brand new soccer balls while the only place to play was the tiny yard that also
doubled as laundry area, classroom and dining hall? But I was most baffled when
a group of Scientology volunteers swarmed in (all in the same blue shirt) and
set down at our activity table, without even asking or presenting themselves. The
children got up one by one and soon I was left with a group of grown-up
volunteers who didn’t speak any Spanish but had apparently quite fun doing the
art activity of the day.
It
was clear that the people in the shelters were beginning to get tired of being
on the receiving end and of having to be grateful. It was also clear that the
kids had become rather used to the fact that everything was a donation,
considering the ridiculous amount of art supplies we lost every week.
Rather
than having a blissful smile on my face I’d feel frustrated and sometimes
downright appalled by the things I saw. Many a time I felt completely out of
place and useless, swearing I’d never be back. But as soon as the kids saw us
and asked what we were going to do this week or if I would read that specific
story again, I was, yet again, completely sold. We might not have contributed
greatly to the emotional wellbeing of these children, or whatever benefits the
arts can provide, we were a constant
factor and a familiar face in an ocean of strangers and uncertainties. And
that’s why I kept going back.
Art Relief in Other Shelters
Since
it was rather hard to get in the shelters in Alotenango right after the
eruption and also because we thought that other shelters might receive less
attention all around, me and my friend Jessica Hoult went to Escuintla a few
times to see if we could set up something over there. The first shelter we
visited was evacuated soon after. At the second shelter we visited we had a
great experience with the kids, but we also had to be realistic: at the time
highway RN14 to Escuintla was still inaccessible and to go “the other way
around” was quite gruesome. Once it took us 4 hours to get back, by car. That’s
a lot of driving for a 2 hour activity! So that was one of the reasons to
decide to stick to Alotenango.
I
also taught a workshop at the main building of the school, but decided it was
more fruitful to keep working with the same group of kids.
Art Workshops in the Transition
Shelter
By
late August, the people moved out of the public schools, into what are called
ATUs (Albergue de Transición Unifamiliar).
The one in Alotenango, located at the infamous but now repaired highway RN14
(which after being fixed for millions of Quetzales will sooner or later, but
rather sooner, be covered by volcanic debris again), houses 147 families, about
650 people total. Each wooden barrack is divided in 4 and is home to 4 or less
families, depending on the family’s size. There are 2 areas with showers,
toilets and pilas, sinks for laundry.
Because of the fire hazard, people are not allowed to cook in their unit and
receive three meals a day.
In
the meantime, coordinators had changed, of course, but I got a new contact at
the Municipality, Sandra Barragán, who proved to be very helpful. I was asked
to come by the shelter with a written proposal and was actually officially
granted permission, not in the least because we had already been present for
months. In order to get started I had to write a detailed plan of what
activities I intended to do and after that I was ready to go. I got the Tuesday
afternoons, 2-5pm and we decided on two workshops per week, one for the little
ones, the other for age 9+.
So
far we had mostly worked with the little ones (some as young as 2 years old!),
so I was excited to work with (pre-) teens. I suggested art activities centred
on the history of art, which was approved. We even got our ”own” space to work
in, one of the wooden sheds that could fit, with a bit of squeezing here and
there, about 20 kids. Not ideal, but it would give me the opportunity to work
on a different, more personal level with the kids now that we had the privacy
of four walls.
I
was excited to get started and enjoyed spending money on new supplies. I also
officially hired Henry Navarijo, my sometimes mural assistant, to help out with
the classes and mostly for crowd control. For the first workshop I prepared 40
folders that the little ones would paint and the older ones would create
prehistoric art on, the theme of the first workshop. It was a lot of work, but
the idea a practical one, since the kids could keep their future artwork in
that folder. I thought that would be a fun activity. Except that things went a
bit different than planned.
That
first workshop there was no furniture in “our” shed, so we had to set up in the
dining area. An open and much transited space due to the fact that it is what I
call The Centre of the Universe, the place where mobiles can be charged. We had about 25 kids, mostly tiny ones. None
of the older kids showed up at 3pm for my well prepared lecture on prehistoric
art. Well, maybe next week.
The
next week, there was furniture, but
since the shed is a bit secluded, only 15 kids showed up. Things didn’t improve
over the next two weeks, so we decided to go back to the refectory. There we
always had between 20 and 30 kids, albeit usually the little ones, almost all
of them from the shelter we had previously worked at. All together we had a lot
of fun and made some great art and crafts.
The
last workshop was conducted on December 18. It was really tough saying goodbye
to those kids, but we had to end the project somewhere. The next Tuesday would
be Christmas, the week after New Year’s and then the kids go back to school. So
it was goodbye, and a tough one it was…
Art Workshops and Mural with the Community Academy’s Students
From
the very start I had this idea to do a mural somewhere (I’m a muralist, after
all) to commemorate the people (and animals) who lost their lives. Of course
that was not something to organize soon after the disaster struck, but I hoped
to do something once the people where settled in the Transition Shelter. Like
painting the wooden barracks in individual units, giving the place a sense of
community as well as individuality….
Alas,
the central government didn’t allow any painting done (several paint producers
had offered). But, my contact at the Municipality
of Alotenango said, why
not doing a mural here at the municipal building? And involve the kids that
attend the “Community
Academy”??? Well, why
not. Even though the kids in question were not residents of the villages affected
by the volcano eruption, the whole town was affected as such and the disaster
was now part of their history too. Also,
the space they wanted to be painted I knew all to well, because it was one of
the places where donations were collected and where we got our permission slips
to get into the shelters. In normal times, the room is used for marimba
classes, so the theme was set…
Painting
with those kids was fantastic!!! They did not only do a great job, they were so
eager to learn and just couldn’t stop! They were so disappointed when the job
was done, so I offered them a special art workshop on Henri Matisse, which went
really well, and just because we couldn’t get enough of it, another one on
Frida Kahlo too. And this was actually already in their vacation time, the
course had already officially ended for the year!
During
the Matisse workshop we painted sheets of paper and then made cut-outs. The
kids created a volcano but instead of lava and ash they created an eruption of
butterflies, representing the souls of the people passed away.
And
that’s how the idea was born for yet another mural, this one at the Central park in Alotenango painted together with those
kids. The idea was to finish it right before Christmas, and that would be the
perfect ending for this project.
Alas…
In December pretty much every thing closes down and we couldn’t get permission
for the mural (the wall is property of the elementary school). But the wall
will still be there in January, so hopefully we can properly finish this
project soon…
And Now?
And
the people in the shelters? As for now, the free there meals a day have stooped
as of January 1. That will mean people have to somehow provide for their own
food (communal kitchens will be provided). For some it will be an incentive to
leave the shelter and go back to their community, despite constant threats of
another eruption. Some might accept one of the 1,000 houses the government is
building, although without consent of neither victims nor consultancy by any
expert organizations. The 1,000 homes are inadequate and too small (42m² for an
entire family) and too many because actually only 416 new homes were needed.
In
the meantime, without any governmental help (rather the opposite) people are still looking for their loved ones,
hoping to provide them with a proper burial.
The
eruption brought out the best and worst in people. The stories -good and bad,
heart warming and breaking- are endless, the disaster now a landmark in Guatemala’s
history. But the after-effects are far from over. At least not for the people
whose lives were shaken to the core.
Conclusion
All
in all we have conducted 25 workshops for 550 kids and painted one mural (with
one in the making.)
Am
I happy about the results? Yes and no. It has been an interesting experience
but I would have liked to see more depth in the art classes. I think the
children could have profited greatly from a bit of art therapy, individual art
sessions or yoga. But the circumstances did not permit it. It was after all
emergency art relief, something I just jumped in, not a well thought-through
project.
I
am absolutely sure the kids enjoyed the art and hopefully it helps them in ways
they don’t even realize. I do know that I have become very fond of many of
those kids. I will miss them and hope that this awful tragedy will somehow work
for them. They are awesome and deserve the very best.
For
more information on the workshops and mural, please visit www.muralarteguate.org
Thank you….
And
of course, all this could not have happened without YOU! There are plenty of
you, your donations in time, money or goods were thoughtful and generous.
I’ll
donate the remaining of the art supplies to the nursing home Fray Rodrigo de la
Cruz in Antigua where the old folks I met when
I painted a series of murals there, will surely make excellent use of them.
Thank
you all for your tremendous support.
I
wish you the very best in the New Year!
Volunteers:
Abi Ruíz, Suzan Eleveld, Rudy, Marlon and Otoniel of the Carpentry Project
Alotenango; Henry Navarijo; Jessica Hoult, José Carlos Barahona; Sharan Gainor;
Donna Jessen; Ana María Ackermans
Sponsors:
Wendy Russell; Judy Sadlier, Debbie Pate; Maureen Mack; Jenneca Fevos; Jim
Bader; Ineke de Smidt; Lies Joosten; Judith Bardoel; Timmerproject Guatemala; Will
& Cees Griffioen, Stichting Colour4Kids; Stichting Uno Más/ Marianne
Kiwanis;
