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This, to me. is a tragedy because Raul was fighting forces bigger than himself. As
a boy of 12, he had taken on the responsibilities of a man. He had shown care and
concern for other people. He had always had a quick temper, but he was a good
person. And, I happen to know, he still is.
Who, then, is to blame? Again, perhaps no one. Or perhaps all of us. Something
needs to be changed.
After the shooting, Raul fled. Tnat night, the State Police came looking for him.
They burst into Chelo’s home and demanded to know where Raul was. Chelo said
Raul had gone. He didn’t know where. The police dragged Chelo into a field outside
town and beat him with their pistols and rifles. Later, his wife lound htm still lying on
the ground, coughing blood and struggling to breathe.
It was more than a year before Chelo recovered enough to work much in his
garden. His tuberculosis had started up again alter the beating by the police. Raul
was gone and could not help with the work. The family was so poor that, again,
they had to go begging. Often they went hungry.
After a few months, Chelo’s wife. Soledad, also developed signs of tuberculosis
and started treatment at the village health post. The local health workers did not
charge for her treatment or Chelo’s. even though the health post had economic
difficulties of its own. However, Chelo’s wife helped out when she could by
washing the health post linens at the river. (This work may not have been the
best thing for her TB, but it did wonders for her dignity. She felt good about giving
something in return.)
About 4 years have passed since these last incidents. Chelo and his wife are now
somewhat healthier, but are still so poor that life is a struggle.
Then, about a year ago, a new problem arose. The landholder for whom Chelo
had worked before he became ill decided to take away the small plot of land where
Chelo grew his vegetables. When the land had been a useless weed patch and
garbage dump, Chelo had been granted the rights to it by the village authorities.
Now that the parcel had been developed into a fertile and irrigated vegetable plot,
the landholder wanted it for himself. He applied to the village authorities, who wrote
a document granting the rights to him. Of course, this was unlawful because the
rights had already been given to Chelo.
Chelo took the matter over the heads of the village authorities to the Municipal
Presidency, located in a neighboring town. He did not manage to see the President,
but the President’s spokesman told Chelo, in no uncertain terms, that he should
stop trying to cause trouble. Chelo returned to his village in despair.
Chelo would have lost his land, which was his one means of survival, if the village
health team had not then taken action. The health workers had struggled too many
times—often at the cost ol their own earnings-to pull Chelo through and keep him
alive. They knew what the loss of his land would mean to him.
At an all-village meeting, the health workers explained to the people about the
threat to Chelo’s land, and what losing it would mean to his health. They produced
proof that the town authorities had given the land rights to Chelo first, and they
asked for justice. Although the poor farm people usually remain silent in village
meetings, and never vote against the wishes of the village authorities, this time they
spoke up and decided in Chelo’s favor.