Fieldnotes: Blogging on UNICEF's child survival work in the field

Jenna Bush, former UNICEF intern and author of Ana's Story: A Journey of Hope, based on her work with UNICEF, is visiting UNICEF programs in Peru and blogging from the field. This is her third entry.

Today started early; at six in the morning we were up preparing for a visit to the provinces of Chincha and Pisco, two areas that faced serious damage after an earthquake affected the region on August 15th. Although the sun had just risen above the grey water of the Pacific, our two-hour drive South to Chincha was filled with energy and anticipation. The earthquake, a magnitude of 7.9, caused tremendous devastation to the regions of Chincha, Pisco, and Ica: 519 people were killed, 430,000 people were affected. The earthquake resulted in massive destruction of houses, health centers, schools and, communication infrastructure. And UNICEF Peru was there the day after the tragedy, assisting in disaster relief and providing comfort to the families affected; we were anxious to see their work first hand.

The damage around Chincha was startling. Although, the earthquake occurred almost five months ago the area was still reduce to rubble. A row of camping tents covered debris and I could imagine the community of houses that were once there. Our first stop was at a Ludoteca, or a Play Center. UNICEF assisted with the emotional relief of the children affected by the earthquake by establishing 30 recreational centers in the area. They knew that with the devastation of the community’s homes and schools, the kids had nowhere to play; and they would need time to recover and heal with their friends in a safe environment.

As we walked the path to the play center, the laughter of children combined with the noise from drums and flutes and spilled out onto the sidewalk.

“Ven! Come in,” the kids called. As we entered the small one room house, the walls painted an optimistic yellow, the floor covered with games, books, and toys the kids swarmed around us, kissed us on the cheeks and pulled us into different corners of the room.

I ended up with some elementary-school-aged girls who were adorned with plastic pink and silver capes.

“Nosotros estamos reinas. We are queens,” they giggled.

During our time at the play center, I met a 12-year-old girl named Anita. Anita told me that she lives only five minutes from the center and walks here every morning and afternoon. She recalled, with a look of jaded fear that during the earthquake she was in her house with an older cousin and a wall collapsed between them. She was frightened, isolated in a small space for nearly three hours. When some family members finally rescued her, she was devastated to see that her house was ruined.

“I was really sad and scared before, but I like having somewhere to come and play. I like coming here and sharing stories with my friends, playing ball, and forgetting about my problems.” Anita said. She told me later that she now lives in a tent with her family.

Our next stop was at the San Martin primaria school. The elementary school was completely destroyed by the earthquake; the 1,500 students deprived of a safe place of learning. UNICEF in partnership with other relief organizations immediately started building temporary bamboo classrooms called esteras and put up tents to serve as classrooms. UNICEF Peru not only assisted with the rebuilding of this school, but also helped rebuild 304 temporary classrooms, making it possible for 34,000 kids to return to finish the school year.

I walked around the courtyard lined with tents and esteras posing as classrooms, imagining the school that was once there. I entered one tent that housed a third grade class. The kids all stood when I walked in, calling in unison, “Buenos dias, good morning.” They were studying multiplication and when I started quizzing them on problems from the times table they called out the answers proudly and joyfully. Leaving the school, I was filled with the notion that these kids, these third graders, are so very similar to my third grade students in the U.S.

Our last stop in Chincha was at a module for integrated protection, an early-childhood development program that keeps infants and toddlers nourished while also providing parenting classes to their mothers. UNICEF established 54 similar modules to feed the young children of these poor regions twice daily, preventing malnutrition in the area.

The tent was full of thirty babies, toddlers, and their mothers. Some of the mothers were in the corner holding their babies while, nurses, trained by UNICEF, taught parenting classes. The kids were spooning a nutrient-enriched porridge into their small mouths.

A nine-year-old girl walked directly towards me; holding her three-year-old sister’s hand.

“I want to tell you my story,” she said as she pulled up a chair for me. “This is my baby sister. I bring her here twice daily. After the earthquake, my family didn’t have any money so my sister started getting skinny; I was worried. I had heard about this center and asked my mom if I could bring her here. At first, my mom said no, but finally she agreed to let me bring her. Now she is happy because my sister has gotten so big, so healthy.”

I’m struck by the maturity of this young girl. She too is just a child, but because of the earthquake she has been forced to grow up too fast.

“You are so brave,” I told her. “And so smart. What do you want to be when you grow up,” I ask?

“A woman who provides porridge to the children” she replies, smiling.

In the afternoon, we were off to Pisco. Driving past the traditional town square we saw shattered windows, abandoned stores and a boat that was catapulted from the ocean a mile away in the middle of the street, creating an eerie ghost-town-like feel. You could tell that Pisco was once a charming fishing village but now the streets were lined with tents and temporary bamboo houses, much of the village had been destroyed.

We spent the afternoon at the Parque Zonal shelter, a type of refugee camp for the residents of Pisco who had lost their homes. The camp took over what must have been a beautiful park, benches still sat among bushes of tropical flowers. Now, however, the park is a makeshift community center. UNICEF assisted the people of the camp by providing both a recreation center and a module for the children. One of the teachers told me later, “It was a gift when UNICEF built the play tent. The kids were scared from the earthquake and since they were out of school many became bored and turned violent. Now, with a place to play many are healing and there is far less violence in the camp.”

When we arrived at the play center, the kids of the community were playing games, cards, and building block castles as the sun began to slip towards the horizon. Two boys began playing bongo drums as we lined up, an eager audience. A young boy and girl enticed by the rhythm of the drums start stomping their feet, and shaking their small hips to the music. They present us with a fluid traditional Peruvian dance.

I’m overcome with emotion. It’s so amazing to me that these kids--kids who have been affected by something so traumatic, many of whom have lost family members, their homes, and schools--are so resilient. These kids are overcome with worries, but they have continued studying, smiling, laughing and playing.

On this beautiful summer day in Peru these kids have continued to survive, continued to live. They have continued to dance.