30 November 2009
By Flor Flor Marenco. Photography: Oliver Best.
The truck we are following stops suddenly on a narrow street. We are surrounded by commotion and commerce. Rows of taxis and buses blast their horns as they jockey for position. People scurry in and out of the countless stores that line the way. Vendors on foot weave through the mess of cars, selling plastic bags of water, home goods, and probably anything else you could imagine.
A man is standing in the street holding a handmade paper stop sign. Behind him appears a line of small children wearing uniforms. Hands linked together, they cross the street and disappear through a rusty zinc door. Our driver parks the car as I realize we are here, El Centro Escolar Pan Y Amor. It’s a school in the most unlikely of places, Managua’s notorious Mercado Oriental.
This sprawling market, a city within a city, is home to thousands. For many of the families here formal education is not a serious consideration. Why send kids to school when they can make money working now? Unfortunately, ‘jobs’ can include anything and everything, from begging, scavenging, selling gum or food, to thievery and prostitution. Pan Y Amor was founded in 2000 in large part to provide these children on the margins with an opportunity to attend school, and to help parents in the community realize the long-term benefits of an education.
I get out of the truck and cross the street, entering through the same rusty door as the kids. I am a little surprised to be greeted by the sound of laughter. Today is a special day at the school, the younger kids are gathered in a large open-air room, everyone seems happy, captivated by the charm of the most popular clown of Nicaragua, Pipo.
“Raise your hands…(all the children raise their hands),” Pipo continues, “…if you didn’t take a shower today!” The kids erupt into laughter and like a little girl I smile and laugh along with them. The atmosphere today is so light, I almost forget that for many of the students, life outside the school is a world in ruins; a place where children are forced to grow up before their time.
Isabel is one of these students. She lives with her family in a dilapidated concrete building that was abandoned after Managua’s great earthquake of 1972. Inside it is dark, there is no power, no rooms, and no real furniture; just an empty square of concrete, a couple crates to sit on, and a grill made from a barrel and an old fan. The space had been shared with seven other families, but fights between inhabitants fueled by drugs and alcohol led to a fire and since then only Isabel’s family remains.
Grandma does what she can to take care of Isabel and her three younger brothers, who are all enrolled at Pan Y Amor, but her illness and old age make it difficult. Their mother had been living with them but according to Grandma she has turned back to drugs and sniffing glue and disappears for days on end. The role of ‘mom’ has fallen to 10-year-old Isabel. She washes the clothes, cooks the food and gets her brothers ready for school. It’s more responsibility than any girl her age should have to deal with, but she does it willingly because her family needs her.
Mercado Oriental needs Pan Y Amor. The school gives children like Isabel and her brothers a place of stability in a world with none. It offers a safe haven where, at least for a little while, kids can be kids. And perhaps most importantly, Pan Y Amor provides the children of the market with the invaluable opportunity to expect more from life.
You can find more information about Pan Y Amor Association on their website: www.panyamor.org.ni
