By Clemencia L. Prieto
In the Fall of 2022, while on duty at the bus station, I saw a guest sitting on one of the benches who seemed worried and had been crying.
I sat next to her and engaged in conversation. Her destination was Austin, and the bus departure was about to be announced. In less than 15 minutes she poured out her heart to me. She was from Venezuela and—along with her husband and three daughters—had fled to a rural, agricultural region of Ecuador a couple of years earlier seeking employment and better opportunities for their family. With tears in her eyes, she related that her husband had a new spouse and had gone to Peru, with the promise to send cash to support the children. That did not happen.
Not being able to support her family, she accepted her brother’s offer to live with him in Austin, Texas, while he helped her find employment. She seemed worried that she had to leave her daughters with her ex-husband’s mother and her ex-sister in-law, but felt she had no choice.
Since time was of the essence and she had no cell phone, I gave her my number and asked her to call me if I could be of help. I told her that my sister lives in Quito, Ecuador, about a four-hour drive from the rural community where her children were living. It told her not to hesitate to call me if there was anything I or the IWC could do to help her.
Within a few days of our encounter, she called me with her new number and the number of her ten-year-old daughter (her other children were six and eight). She mentioned that her children had not been able to attend school because they did not have birth certificates or proof of prior school attendance in Venezuela. Lack of funds to pay for school supplies, uniforms, and for the issuance of those documents—coupled with the unresponsiveness of the Venezuelan entity to issue them—had been detrimental for the children. They had to stay home all day with limited guidance from their grandmother and no school material from which to study.
A few more telephone calls—and getting better acquainted with the needs of the family—led me to ask my sister what could be done on their behalf. A plan of action was established in cooperation with the mother in Austin.
On December 22, 2022, my sister, a driver familiar with the region, and I visited the family at their humble home. Gifts of toys, clothing, food, etc. were happily accepted. Most importantly, the kids were happy to receive school supplies, basic books, and materials to learn to read, write and draw while waiting for admittance to the local public school.
Visiting my family in Ecuador was special—but seeing the children’s smiles and their fascination with their new presents and books was definitely a highlight of my trip.
Epilogue: I have since learned that the mother in Austin got a job cleaning commercial buildings at night. Last I heard, she was able to get the documents from Venezuela for the children’s school admittance. The mother now sends them funds regularly for food and shelter and school expenses. Public education is free, but children need to pay for uniforms, lunch, and incidentals. I offered to help with the uniforms and other expenses, but she seems to be able to handle those expenses on her own.
