"We´re so happy," said Flora Huanca, who'd never had electricity in her life before last year. "We used to arrive from the fields as it was getting dark, and I had to make dinner with a kerosene lamp."
Ten-year-old Nando Arequipa, who was summoned by his teacher to recount how electrical power had improved his life, sounded less than enthusiastic as he described the joys of doing schoolwork by lamplight. But when asked if there were any other changes the arrival of the electricity had wrought, his eyes grew brighter and a smile lit up his face. "Now we can play soccer at night," he said.
Juan Choquehuanca, who teaches grades three through five in Flor de Mayo's two-room schoolhouse, said the lighting of the town soccer field is important, since the muggy climate of Sud Yungas makes daytime practice difficult. Nevertheless, he is concentrating in more practical benefits of electricity - he'd like to find an organization to donate a few computers to his school and envisions opening a wood shop.
"We would like to teach the children to use power tools. Perhaps we could start a project to make handcrafts using some of the wood from the forest that surrounds us," he said.
Flor de Mayo lies near the eastern extreme of the province of Sud Yungas, perched on mountainside in the valley of the Bopi River. A suspension bridge built by the community spans that muddy river, connecting Flor de Mayo to a gravel road that winds its way over 254 tortuous kilometers to La Paz. The steep slopes that surround Flor de Mayo are covered with a mosaic of farmland and lush tropical forest, one of the trees of which gave the town its name, "May Flower," after the white blooms that cover its branches during that month. Flor de Mayo's residents farm small plots that hold an array of crops including plantains, papayas, corn, coffee, coca, cassava, bananas and peanuts. But the forested slopes rising above the farms are just as important, since they collect the rainwater that feeds the stream they call La Plata. That boulder-strewn brook supplies the water for the town's communal taps, serves as public bath and laundry, and powers a small hydroelectric plant.
Like most of the people in Flor de Mayo, Mery Luna moved there from the highlands - the town was created by homesteaders in the late 1980s. Though her native village of Upana had electricity and other services, she and her husband moved to Flor de Mayo seven years ago in search of agricultural land.
"We have suffered very much," she said. "In Upana, the land is tired, so we came here. But there was no water, no light. You know that electricity is very necessary."
Those who have spent their lives in the constant vicinity of TV sets and telephones may take the marvels of the itinerant electron for granted, but for the residents of Flor de Mayo, the ability to switch the kitchen light on seems like a tiny miracle. For more than a decade, they illuminated their humble homes with kerosene lamps and candles, and consumed kilos of batteries in their flashlights, radios and other appliances. Last year, though, every home was equipped with lights and electrical outlets as the town hooked into its own micro-power plant.
The illumination of Flor de Mayo took place thanks to the GEF Small Grant Program and the Institute of Hydrology and Hydraulics at Bolivia's Universidad Mayor de San Andrés. Engineers from the institute solicited the grant for the community, designed the project, and supervised its construction. But the labor was provided by the residents of Flor de Mayo, who created a micro-hydroelectric committee to maintain the plant and collect monthly payments from every family. According to the engineer José Luis Monroy, who helped design Flor de Mayo's hydroelectric project, the institute has helped some 40 communities finance and build such power plants during its 15 years of existence, but that represents a mere fraction of the country's demand.
With a topography that drops from 6,500 to less than 200 meters above sea level, and copious rainfall along the eastern edge of the Andes, Bolivia enjoys ideal conditions for hydroelectric power. But power generation was privatized in Bolivia more than a decade ago, and with the bulk of the population caught below the poverty level, there is little incentive for private sector investment in many regions. The result is that approximately 75 percent of Bolivia's rural population lacks electrical power.
Monroy's coworker Emiliano Montano said the institute receives requests from more communities than they are able to help. He explained that among the reasons he and José Luis decided to work with Flor de Mayo were the cohesiveness of the community, their level of organization, and the fact that they are extremely poor. "We've found that such small, isolated communities are better at working together," he said.
Constancio Veizaga, president of the town's hydroelectric committee, said all the men of Flor de Mayo helped build the water intake, storage tank and generator house, and to bury the countless meters of plastic tubing that runs along the hillside below town. He explained that about 40 men each donated 45 days of labor for the project's construction, but they now get electrical power for the equivalent of a few dollars per month. He added that the rates were calculated to raise just enough money for maintenance and eventual repair work - neither he nor the other committee members receive payment for their maintenance and administrative duties.
According to Rubén Salas, national coordinator of the Small Grants Program, the Flor de Mayo project was approved under the GEF mandate to promote alternative energy, but its positive impact extends well beyond decreasing the town's dependence on polluting power sources. He explained that in addition to the improvement in quality of life and new income opportunities that electricity provides, the process of soliciting the grant, building the system, and managing it empowers citizens and strengthens the local political structure.
"With your help and our labor, we now have light," Mery Luna declared. She explained that her children often study late into the night, and that her eldest son recently enrolled in a technical school. "Thank God our sacrifice was not in vain."
Article by: David Dudenhoefer