Dirt Roads + Rain = Disaster

I don’t know what your weekends looked like as a college student, but on a Friday nights I could either be found at 1) the frat houses, 2) visiting my boyfriend at his college, 3) travelling to an away match with my tennis team, or 4) relaxing with friends, pizza and a movie in the dorms. I definitely wasn’t travelling back to my hometown to tutor children over the weekend. As I have mentioned before, my college days differed greatly from those of the PRECE student.

On Friday nights around 10 p.m. over 100 PRECE university students gather at ICE (Instituto Coração de Estudante) with backpacks stuffed full of clothes and teaching supplies. There are 3 old school buses with drivers provided by the State Secretary of Education which transport PRECE students to their home communities so they can facilitate classes over the weekend. On a typical night I arrive in the community of Boa Vista around 1 a.m.

And, then began the rainy season.

Normally the bus ride is brutal because of the rough dirt roads, and the rain which creates muddy conditions and deep pot holes. Typically around 11:30 p.m. I begin to drift in and out of consciousness- partially because of the massive amounts of Dramamine I take (thank you motion sickness), partially because of the late hour and partially because my head is banging against the headrest.

It was around 12:30 last night that I was awoken from my Dramamine induced coma to see everyone rushing to the front of the bus. Not having the energy or interest to get up I tried to sleep again… until I realized that everyone was getting off the bus. The driver had come to an impasse. The heavy rains during the week had cut a ditch (also known as a small river) in to the dirt road and the driver knew he wouldn’t be able to go further. So, he and a few students who also knew they would have no chance of reaching their community decided to head back to Fortaleza.

The rest of us (no one asked my opinion) decided to walk. And walk. And walk. We waded through small rivers, slid across patches of mud and climbed around the deep holes. The numbers of our group dwindled as some people stopped at their homes or homes of friends. And, at 3:30 a.m. a truck met us on the dirt road and carried us the rest of the way to Boa Vista.

What amazed me most was that I appeared to be the only one who was absolutely disgusted by the situation! Why was everyone else talking and laughing and seemingly enjoying the walk when I was so frustrated that I could hardly think? I couldn’t reconcile the ridiculousness of the situation. So, I asked my wise friend, Jose Alfredo, if this had happened before or if this was the first time. “Oh, yes, we have had to walk before,” he replied and rattled off examples. And, with nearly 70% of Brasil’s roads being unpaved it was bound to happen again. He went on to say that when the rainy season ended, in June, the local government would begin to repair the dirt roads. For some reason this fact and these stories only seemed to fuel my frustration.

Why couldn’t the country with the 6th fastest growing economy provide better for its people? I realize that as an American I am extremely spoiled in to expecting that my government will provide certain things, but paved roads don’t seem to be too much to ask. Unlike my PRECE friends I had not been raised accepting that situations such as this were simply part of the struggle (nossa luta).

The next day after teaching class in Boa Vista I hopped on the back of a motorcycle ready to brave the muddy roads, ditches, streams and more rain. Remembering the words of Jose Alfredo I was not surprised to see local community members on the side of the road filling in pot holes with dirt from the fields. This was their struggle and it is a struggle in which they will come out victorious. When I want to throw up my hands in disgust and defeat, the determination and fortitude of the PRECE people stands as an example of true strength and faith, and the audacity to envision a better future against all odds.