The computer center is still pretty well stalled out. My original deal with the committee of elders in the village was that I would provide computers and training, the Ministry of Health would provide a secure room in the Health Center, and the village would provide the electric meter, electricity, and some tables and chairs to put the computers on. This arrangement is important, because it encourages community involvement instead of a welfare mentality.

Well, I fulfilled my part of the deal months ago, as did the Ministry of Health. We’re still waiting for the community to get its act together on their part. It’s frustrating for me, because at least once a week, a bright-eyed kid comes up to me and asks when I will be able to show them how to use a computer, and I have to tell them to keep on waiting. These are the frustrations of Peace Corps. To make it worse, we can’t just leave perfectly good computers collecting dust in the back room of the health center, so we told the leaders that if they don’t get their act together by November, we’re going to send the computers elsewhere to a needy community that is willing to put forth this minimal effort to get them.

However, where charity fails, perhaps capitalism can overcome. Pedro, our Q’anjob’al teacher, was telling me the other day about his dream to open up an internet cafe. Pedro is buena honda (a good guy), community-minded, and I want to help him anyway I can. Though it was my first thought, giving him our village’s computers is out of the question, because it would cause a lot of local tension. Then I remembered Computers for Guatemala, a great charity that brings cargo containers full of used computer equipment from the USA to Guatemala every three or four months, and only charges for shipping. I know Don, the guy who runs the charity, so I emailed him.

They normally only work with communities and nonprofits, but Don was interested in the idea of working with Pedro. It’s a way for his charity to reach more people in needy regions, through alternate channels. “There is a lot to be said for the free market; this will be a good test of what results you get,” he said. So I talked it over with Pedro, and he said he could afford the $55 shipping fee on 5 computers, if he had until their arrival in December to scrape together the money. Done!

But not so fast. Things are changing in Guatemala, and their government just changed its taxation approach to humanitarian aid. Starting this month, a new $16 import duty is to be charged on each computer. That’s if everything goes right. What’s worse, though, is that some international humanitarian aid is being held indefinitely.

So, Don wants to know how Pedro feels about paying half up front and sharing the risk, since there is now the possibility that the computers will cost more than quoted… and they might never even arrive. Sigh. I don’t even want to ask Pedro. On the one hand, from the perspective of a former businessman, I understand the idea of risk sharing and don’t feel his request is unreasonable. But in this specific circumstance, the locals here have no extra money to gamble with. A good example is tiendas (little streetside stores): every tienda has three others next to it selling exactly the same thing, because it was a proven idea and to take a risk on selling something different is just too darn dangerous. A failure might mean starvation. To further complicate matters, Emily and I are the first Peace Corps volunteers in this entire part of Huehuetenango. The Mayans here have struggled under decades (centuries?) of broken promises and and being taken advantage of, and I want them to know that they can always trust the Peace Corps to deliver on whatever we say we’re going to do. If I took half of Pedro’s money and something went wrong and he got nothing, I (and the Peace Corps) would become just another name on that long list.

note: there is a lot more to this story that I can’t really go into right now. You will have to just wait until the book comes out. 🙂