As Covid-19 ravaged Ecuador’s largest city, Guayaquil, in the first months of the pandemic and spread through the rest of the country, smaller and more isolated communities were often the safest but forced to look to themselves to educate their children.
As the photographer Johis Alarcón discovered on her visits to the indigenous village of San Clemente in the Andean highlands and the African-Ecuadorean hamlet of Playa de Oro in the coastal rainforest bordering Colombia, a renewed sense of community grew.
Isolated populations were hit hardest by the closure of schools during the pandemic, whichaffected 4.6 million students, of whom two-thirds do not have internet access, according to Unicef. The lack of smartphones, internet connectivity and a drop in income for their parents became a major obstacle to their continued schooling.
The response was to relaunch community schools that promote their cultural identity and language, the protection of the local environment and whose teachers are also part of the community. Indigenous people make up 7% of the country’s population and African-Ecuadoreans about 8%.
San Clemente is an indigenous Karanki community in the foothills of the Imbabura mountains. The site is one of four Unesco geoparks in Latin America and the Caribbean, selected for their geographical and cultural wealth.
Returning from the city, several families created a community school parallel to the public school with the aim of strengthening the Kichwa language and identity among the children, recounts Alarcón, who comes from the capital Quito, about a three-hour drive away. Young volunteers teach music and theatre and skills such as cooking, basic English and adventure tourism with a view to cater for tourists looking for a community-based experience.
“The children should be free to learn,” said Marisol Pupiales, 27, a mother who teaches the Kichwa language as a volunteer in the school. She is one of many parents who have become more involved in their children’s education.
Far more remote, Playa de Oro, a tiny African-Ecuadorean community of around 80 families, scarcely had internet to begin with. The public school teachers have not returned to the hamlet since the beginning of the pandemic in March 2020. Access is by river and the local economy relies on artisanal gold mining, logging and agriculture.
Its isolation has also meant not a single case of Covid-19. Three young women, Kerly Venazca Ayoví, 26, Morení Arroyo, 23, and María Teresa Caicedo, 23, took charge of the community school, earning a minimum monthly wage of $150. Parents clubbed together to install internet antennas and buy mobile phones so their children could continue with their classes.
“We committed ourselves because of the love we have for the community,” said Caicedo, who gave the classes while pregnant with her daughter Noa. The first woman in her family to go to university, she was in her final year studying social work when the pandemic struck.
“I want to improve the education of my daughter,” she said. Other mothers volunteered to give extra classes for the 50 primary school students.
The classes from 8.30am to midday include maths and language but also reinforce African-Ecuadorean identity with traditional songs called arrullos and classes in the traditional marimba dance.
The children already know what they want to be when they grow up, said Alarcón. Choices range from doctors, chefs, soldiers, actors, musicians, dancers, footballers and even one sculptor.
“In order to fulfil their dreams they have to leave their home. They leave their families and the communities become fragile,” she said.
But the community school experience has meant many now want to return home one day, bringing their skills with them.