"There is a tremendous humanitarian crisis in Ecuador due to the influx of Colombian refugees."

Far away from the bars of Mariscal and the beaches of Montañita, lies a side not often seen by travellers to Ecuador, who rarely stop for more than a stamp on the Colombian border. Yet despite being the second-smallest country on the continent, Ecuador also has the largest refugee population of all the South American nations, with "20,000 registered refugees and some 37,000 asylum seekers" (UNHRC), before even beginning to count the thousands unregistered. Most of these come from neighbouring Colombia, where the ongoing internal conflict creates a vicious climate from which the thousands flee.

But thankfully, organizations such as Asylum Access, and people such as Ryan Lozar, exist to offer assistance where it is desperately needed. Asylum Access is a San Fransisco-based nonprofit organization,"dedicated to making refugee rights a reality in Africa, Asia and Latin America ." They place well-qualified law students and volunteer lawyers in the places they are needed the most. Ryan Lozar is one of those clever people, who gave up life with a big city law firm in New York to travel to Quito. We met in a farmhouse not far from there, and my immediate fascination in his work inevitably led to my typing away with his words.

1. Could you speak a little about the organization you work for; Asylum Access?

Asylum Access’s general aim is to provide legal representation to people who have fled their home countries as they seek to secure a formal refugee status designation in a second country. In order to meet the legal definition of a refugee, these individuals must prove to their host country that they have a well-founded fear of persecution were they to return to their home country due to their race, religion, national origin, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. Some also have a well-founded fear of persecution in their home countries due to generalized violence that exists there, as is the case in certain regions of Colombia. Once an individual is designated as a refugee, Asylum Access also strives to aid him or her as they attempt to integrate in the host country’s society.

2. What is your role; what do you do day-to-day?

Asylum Access Ecuador has an office in Quito which operates as a free legal services clinic. We are located across the street from Ecuador ’s Department of Refugee Affairs and so we have a constant stream of walk-in asylum applicants seeking legal advice. These clients seek advice on what to expect during their asylum interviews and how to file an appeal if their initial asylum application is denied. During office consultations, I conduct asylum interview prep sessions during which I explain what is the technical legal definition of a refugee, and help them to identify key moments of their life stories that reflect the definitional elements.

These clients also face a range of social integration problems, i.e. their children are improperly denied the right to enroll in school, their employers refuse to pay them the full range of benefits due them under Ecuadorian labor law, or banks improperly refuse to allow them to open bank accounts. All of these actions violate the Ecuadorian Constitution, which prohibits discrimination against a person based on their migratory condition. With respect to clients facing social integration problems such as these, I intervene directly with the discriminatory actors, explaining their constitutional and legal obligations to treat refugees like any other Ecuadorian. If a courteous conversation does not convince them to comport with the law, I help the affected client to secure government intervention by filing complaints with the appropriate enforcement agency.

Another important aspect of our services relates to our clients’ physical security. Many Colombian refugees continue to receive threats to their physical safety even in Ecuador, as Colombian armed groups have a presence here, too. At times local prosecutors and police refuse to get involved, and I intervene on behalf of a client by going to the police station and pressing the matter.

3. What is the main reason for Colombians to seek asylum in Ecuador?

The principal reason Colombians seek asylum in Ecuador is the well-founded fear for their physical safety they suffer as a result of the ongoing armed conflict in their home country. At times a Colombian citizen is fearful because an armed group has made a specific threat against him or his family. Other times a Colombian citizen is fearful because she lives in a “red zone,” meaning that the area where he lives is marked by generalized violence.

4. How are refugees and asylum seekers dealt with once they cross the border?

Generally speaking, this depends on the actions that the asylum seeker himself takes upon crossing the border. As a member of the Andean Community with an Andean Card, Colombians have the right to enter Ecuador freely for 90 days, and do not have to declare their intentions at the border. Once inside Ecuador, Colombian refugees take a variety of actions. Some make their asylum applications immediately, and they receive a card establishing their legal status in Ecuador during the pendency of their application. Others – and this is the case for the vast majority of Colombian refugees – do not apply for asylum upon entry, instead living for years in an undocumented and insecure state.

With respect to refugees who do not avail themselves of the asylum application process, they live in an extremely vulnerable condition. After the initial 90 days of legal status that they enjoy due to the Andean Card, they are susceptible to deportation by the migration police if they are discovered. A panicked asylum application at the moment of arrest might save them from deportation, but this is a dicey proposition.

5. Does the international community provide assistance in improving the situation, or is it the sole responsibility of the Ecuadorian government? Should they be helping more?

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees has a strong presence in Ecuador. In addition to its independent operations, it partially funds the work of Ecuador ’s Department of Refugee Affairs, which is very important given the heavy work load and resource needs of that government agency.

Money from the UNHCR also funds social services for refugees through independent organizations like the Red Cross and the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. These social services include the provision of rent subsidies, food rations, educational programs, medical aid, and psychological services. Aid like this is key for recently-arrived refugees’ health as they try to establish a successful, integrated, self-sustaining existence in Ecuador.

UNHCR’s aid only goes so far, however. As you observed, there is a tremendous humanitarian crisis in Ecuador due to the influx of Colombian refugees, and there is certainly a need for additional resources.

6. Is the Ecuadorian legal system sufficient for dealing with such a huge number of refugees and asylum seekers? Is it fair?

The Ecuadorian legal system offers due process mechanisms to asylum applicants that makes the system technically fair. Some of the due process mechanisms include a person's right to tell their story in a personal interview as they pass through the asylum application process, and also that they have the right to appeal if they are denied.

In addition, Ecuador has distinguished itself in the world of refugee affairs in a very important way: It has implemented a novel program to aid the huge number of refugees through what is called the Amplified Registry. The Amplified Registry is a government-sponsored mobile brigade that travels the Ecuadorian side of the Ecuador-Colombia border registering the thousands of undocumented Colombian refugees living there. Due to lack of education or lack of resources, many of these Colombian refugees have lived in the border region for many years without ever formally applying for asylum. Through the Amplified Registry, the Ecuador government made a proactive effort to help these people by creating a mobile Department of Refugee Affairs unit to process their asylum applications in their own communities.

7. Tell me about the most memorable case you have worked on.

It’s difficult to say what has been the most memorable case I have worked on, as every case has something that draws your attention, whether it be an interesting legal or factual issue, or simply the openness and vulnerability of a particular client. But there is one refugee family that does stick out in my mind. They are a husband and wife with six children, and I have worked with the family on all sorts of issues, from education discrimination, workplace discrimination, lost documents, security problems, petitions for resettlement to a third country and more.

Given all of the issues swirling around in their lives, it is almost as if this particular family represents the full microcosm of the Colombian refugee experience. Having spent so much time with this family on so many different problems, they have humanized the Colombian refugee experience for me the most and are the most memorable.

8. Do you think the recent announcement of a new US military contract with Colombia will have any affect on the number of people seeking asylum in Ecuador?

The new US military contract with Colombia will probably have an effect on the number of people seeking asylum in Ecuador insofar as it will strengthen fumigation operations on Colombia’s coca fields. These fumigation operations have many side effects that increase the number of refugees fleeing Colombia. For one, when armed groups’ coca crops are damaged, it is likely that citizens living in those areas are going to suffer increased extorsion to make up for the lost narcotrafficking profits.

Also, it is important to note that the fumigations don’t just kill coca crops, they kill adjacent legal crops as well, which destroys the livelihoods of campesinos and creates economic migrations. There is a lot to say about the effects of Plan Colombia and additional U.S. military bases on Colombian migration patterns, but these are just two observations.

9. In your experience, have asylum seekers from Colombia been the victims of prejudice here in Ecuador?

Yes. Anyone who spends any amount of time in Ecuador will inevitably hear laments about how Colombian migrants are criminals and are ruining Ecuador ’s peaceful culture. This prejudice is further reflected in the number of Colombian refugees we receive in our office who are victims of discrimination in housing, education, and work.

10. It seems that although you, and a variety of organisations are working hard to improve the situation, there is still a lot of work to be done. Is there any way visitors to Ecuador or Colombia can help?

Asylum Access Ecuador is just one of many non-profit organizations working on refugee issues in Ecuador and Colombia. Many of these organizations accept volunteer workers for short and long-term periods. In addition, donations are always very welcome and make a palpable difference, especially for organizations that provide direct aid to recently-arrived refugees in Ecuador.

Many refugees arrive in Ecuador with little more than the clothes on their backs, having abandoned all their wordly possessions in their sudden flight from their home countries. They are frequently in dire need of rent, food, education, and medical subsidies as they try to find work and build their lives anew.


For more information, or to make a donation, visit:

Asylum Access
www.asylumaccess.org

The UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR)
www.unhcr.org

A Glutton´s Journey

It has been many months now since the tin of Heinz baked beans sat proudly on the table, hand delivered from London to the southernmost tip of Argentina. And what delight it brought to those who sat down to dinner that night, indulging in a taste of home.

Yet since that day, rather than increasing with time, cravings for the culinary delights of the British Isles has rapidly diminished. Set aside at each border to instead mourn the loss of the delicious discoveries, inevitably made and then quickly lost with each new place. To be remembered, craved, and ultimately, shared, in a gluttonous day which is no less than perfect, although perhaps a little far from possible...

A platter of fresh fruit drenched in yogurt and a sprinkling of granola greets the day in Sucre market, surrounded by the bustle of potato sales in the heart of Bolivia. Wash it down with a juice from Kensho restaurant in a barrio of Buenos Aires, as the chef shares secrets of fresh ginger. Or a mango juice from the streets of Rio-de-Janeiro, to calm the baking sun.

Late morning, stroll down Calle Chocolate in Bariloche for a melting taste of Belgium amongst the Patagonian pines. Or head back already to Buenos Aires, where a white bench waits by Parque Lezama, to soak up drips stolen from the customers of the Heladería.

A few blocks away lies a lunch of deep-pan Spanish omelette, delicious enough to endure the grumpiest chef in all of South America, who will barely endure your smiles. Cram in with the locals for a soup in Cochabamba market; knowing nothing of the ingredients, but being sure the recipe is bound to Bolivia. Try one last taste of Argentina before heading to the equator, and drizzle chimichurri all over a steaming choripan, down a side street of San Telmo.

The long journey north brings with it an appetite, and afternoon tea is served in Ecuador. With cacao fresh from the jungle oozing from Killari cafe's brownies, it may be impossible to leave Quito. But you must, to become out of place in Otavalo, eating an apple pie surely stolen from the Dutch, and disguised with a dollop of icecream. And as the afternoon light fades, warm up with a mate cocido in Filadelphia, Paraguay, where soft spice wakens warn milk. Or sip hot chocolate in Cacao y Canela cafe in Cuenca, infused with a little too much liquor.

Wait not for main courses at dinnertime; start with a piping hot pumpkin empanada, appearing out of a woven basket only on Sundays, as the crowds gather on the streets of San Telmo. Perhaps a humita in Quito's Old Town, dipped dangerously deep in aji.

After an age of waiting a main course will come; garlic prawns served on plastic tables along Copacabana beach; a banana pizza sprinkled with cinnamon to confuse the cheese, on Isla Grande, Brazil. If the night is cold, take your knife and fork to Asunción, for a shredded beef risotto, to challenge the palette of Paraguay's steak-obsessed neighbour. Order a side of roast potatoes, littered with fresh herbs and baked in the fire of a farm near Malchingui, Ecuador.

Drink nothing but Malbec throughout, sipped upon a vineyard roof terrace in Mendoza, Argentina. Dessert will come on wheels, in a glass trolley across the beach of Ilha Grande to tempt you into excess. End with an aperitif of hot canelazo, served from a steaming spiced cauldron on La Ronda, Quito. And perhaps a fig pisco on ice, please, from the vineyards of Ica, Peru.

And if Christ the Redeemer has not yet struck us all down from his Brazilian hilltop, to the bar it must be. Adding a sugary zest to the night with a cachaça-filled caipirinha overlooking the islands of Florianópolis. And an impossibly cold pisco sours at Fallen Angel, Cuzco. As exhaustion calls you to bed, stand only for a toast - to the day of delights - and drink down your shot of snake juice in Vilcabamba, Ecuador.

Perpetually Penniless

"Here is your dinner money," she said, handing over a carefully counted pocketful of change. And they fell about laughing, at the absurdity of the situation, sitting on a wall by the roadside in temporary poverty, somewhere betwixt the Ecuadorian jungle and their city home. For no matter how carefully plans are made; how many hours are spent doing sums, or stashing money in secret places, it seems that penniless times cannot help but creep up on the unsuspecting traveller.

It could happen deep in the Chaco of Paraguay, after a bitter old woman has robbed you of every penny you have, in exchange for a ticket across the border. It may be just across that border in Bolivia, stuck in a roadblocked town where banks do not yet know of Visa. Or it might be here in Ecuador, on realising that the bus back to your belongings is not coming, and you face a night in the great outdoors of this unnamed place until a way home appears.

But witnessing true poverty across each border has brought a taste of understanding to the bowl of plain rice which sustains the pair that night. For to those who huddle in the dark corners of each new bus station, these foreigners emanate wealth that only dreams are made of. And to those back home drawing their steady income, this laughing duo have become heroines of their dreams of wanderlust, who have learnt to escape so much more that the cold roadside that night.

The Family Water

Bright lights glare across the driveway and dazzle the waiting. Inside, an eclectic array of greetings; handshakes, hugs, one kiss, two kisses, a wave. The room fills quickly with excitement and anticipation, carried through the house by three dozen, who slip shoes off and settle down on soft cushions.

The full moon settles too, lying on a blanket of stars to wait and watch the evening unfold. And so the night begins, with multilingual hopes shared amongst strangers. Tobacco passes with each voice; dark smoke wrapped tightly in leaves, to lift the thoughts and leave a bitter taste on the tongue. A black cat walks amongst them, entwining himself with the chubby ankles of the Shaman's wife, who jingles across the room with bells at her feet.

Uncounted hours pass, the space filled by scented smoke rising from hot coals. Through the light mist the medicine is passed; a cloudy concotion drunk down in one, inducing a playful nausea to tickle the mind.

Bodies slump into blankets & each other, whilst some allow the cold night air to seep up from the floorboards and into bare skin. Voices emerge once more from the darkness, in a collective melody which carries the last star through the twilight. Until the sky's palette lightens too much, causing sunrise to interrupt the night, and bring the faces out from the darkness.

Faces lined with tears cannot help but catch the laughter which emerges unexpectedly from the earth. And with this laughter they pluck the sun from the horizon, throwing it high up above them to bring the new day.

Together they fill their bodies with the clarity of water, surrounded by their equinox. And knowing that it was all worth it for her smile towards the sunrise, and that warm embrace against the moon.

New Neighbours

The hourly bus pulls into Malchingui, a musical carriage complete with blue lights, red tassled curtains and a sackful of chickens in the boot. A couple of gringas clamber down at Cuatras Izquinas, and amble over to the line of locals waiting by white trucks. The drivers need not ask where they are going, as they toss bags in the back and head off across the plains. Past young boys herding cows, they are chased by stray dogs towards the distant casa in the clouds.

Isolated in an internationals' haven, days pass without word or sign of any neighbour. Until the donkey feels wanderlust in the wind, and charges off towards a braying friend. With handfuls of corn people follow; apologetic smiles greeted with good humour in the neighbours' paddock - fellow farmers forever amused by the group of gringas, trying to coax their wayward animal home.

As days become weeks, a routine of dog walking, donkey fetching and egg collecting emerges; and whilst the former strains relations with a barrage of barks, the latter brings nothing but delight.

Down the dusty road they go, across a yard full of hens clucking at their feet, and tap on the open door of the little breezeblock house. The unexpected visitors are greeted more warmly than the prodigal son, insisted upon to sit while dutiful daughters run off to count eggs. Conversation flows, with gentle chatter from farm life to Ecuadorian journeys and the distant United States. The pair leave with armfuls of eggs, but will remember so much more the old man's crinkled face, smiling in the doorway. They walk home across the barren landscape, but surrounded now by familiar faces, far from the anonymous path of the tourist map.

Living by Candlelight

Slithers of mist roll across the fields and fall effortlessly into the valley. These clusters of cloud turn candyfloss-pink as the sun drifts behind them, and shadows begin to stretch their tired legs across the farm.

Feet start to shuffle cautiously in the half light, guided by familiarity towards ivory-coloured candles. With wicks alight, flames flicker on their journey through the house, adorning tablecloths and armrests and windowsills. A figure balances precariously atop a creaky chair, spinning a black chandelier and shedding pools of hot wax onto the floor. An intimate light envelopes the few, illuminating cards dealt in the darkness and words working across yellowed pages.

Through a different door, blue rings shed an eerie light upon knives upon garden greens, whilst bubbly waters glistens in the sink. Bread bakes above hot coals, causing a cool draft to clash with rising smoke.

Slowly candles burn to base, and people move towards bedrooms caught up in moonlight. Quito lights glitter in the distance, only to happily disappear when the morning sun wakes.

'Right, you're all on shit'

It is a well-known fact that open discussion of backpackers' bowel movements fills the fresh air of South America. Travellers who back home would not dare allow another hear them pee, publically rejoice at having had a solid shit. Bus drivers plead with their passengers to do nothing more than urinate during the 20-hour journey; they plead back for road-side stops, where nature absorbs the rest. Yet whilst tummy troubles continue to pain those on the road, faeces on the farm means something quite different.

A crowd of willing workers gather just north of the equator, to be told 'You're all on shit'. But they hold none of the nervousness which plagues the Imodium-carrying tourist. For here, the hundreds of trees which litter the landscape are fuelled by their own bodies. Sawdust and shit surround deep roots, whilst bucketfulls of pee has leaves glowing green with nitrogen.

(Thankfully) upwind, the morning shift begins with sacks of chicken shit, dragged across deep beds. The chickens themselves shuffle a few meters away, chuckling as dry dung flies into the eyes of their keepers.

Next comes donkey waste, pilled high into wheelbarrows until the source dwindles. Thereafter begins the Search For More Shit - teams sent towards the horizon, to return with bucketfuls of cowpats; generous donations from the neighbours. Light as air, the new fuel is playfully tossed in the air, before being crumbled between dirty hands and fed to the earth.

As the hours pass, the workers resign themselves to the inevitable, allowing excretement dust to billow around them, and cling to sweaty skin. Casting shoes aside, people step into the beds, turning the potent mixture until arms are exausted. Finally the water flows, streaking down stained skin and deep into the soil, to ripen the recipe.

Weeks later they will return to this woven patch of poo, plant vegetables and watch them grow. Many more months will pass before they sit to eat the feast of their labour, their weary bodies replenished by a burst of fresh flavours. Meanwhile, across the valley a lone backpacker sits in a cheap Quito restaurant, stomach strained, and thinks of nothing but shit.

Super Mercado

Ten clicks, and the chore is done. A lunchbreak minute, and a website whisks one down the electronic isles; to pick out fruits perfected by science, meats scrubbed clean of their origin, and exotic imports to impress the office.

Some hours earlier, as dawn breaks, shoes shuffle down the streets of Otavalo, with animals under arms, squirming in sacks, and dragged along by leads. Moving between the crates of chickens, someone picks up a reluctant piece of poultry, stretches out pitiful wings and wraps firm hands around dinner. Seeing such distraction, a feathered friend makes a desperate attempt at escape; past the cardboard boxes of chirping chicks and guinea pigs squeeking for victory. Yet within seconds, the hopeful one is swinging by the feet across town, where a small boy chops scrawny legs into an unwhite bucket.

There can be no cellophane wrapping here, no new moulds to disguise pigs trotters, piled high under the bodies they once met. Nor will the cluster of prawns lie on fresh ice, nor the scales of fish be softly decorated by slices of lemon. Underneath the already dead, a clutter of crabs continue a futile battle, pincers snapping at the rope which ties their tastless fate.

Across the way, colourful accompanyments vie for attention, with sackfuls of spices waiting impatiently amongst the grain. And with no silver trolley or teenage bagpacker in sight, shoppers load sacks onto backs, dancing over bunches of bananas which spill out across the street. They move towards steaming pots and sweet rewards, for a morning which cannot be packaged.