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"As miners, we came to Primero de Mayo from different parts of the country. This neighborhood, in my vision, it's a revolutionary neighborhood, a revolutionary army. Whenever there's a social struggle, there we are. But we don't struggle por loco. We struggle because we need to change the political system, the economic system. Ever since the relocalization, this is our function -- to bring about structural change."
Elsewhere in the Zona Sur, Fabian Condori, a weathered Aymara, directs the Asociacion de Produccion y Administracion de Agua y Saneamiento de Sebastian Pagador, or APAAS, the first water committee in the Zona Sur. Like Primero de Mayo, San Sebastian Pagador is a neighborhood made up of relocalized miners and displaced peasant farmers.
"The goal of the water war," Condori told me, "was to retake SEMAPA for the people. And I believe that SEMAPA should serve the people -- all of us. I don't believe we should need small community water services. But SEMAPA isn't doing its job, so we have to do it. We come from the neighborhood, we're self-sufficient, self-managed and autonomous. The cooperatives didn't emerge from an ideological vision, but from a common need."
In his office, Condori showed me a crumbling Styrofoam maquette of the water system he administered: from a deep well, drilled a quarter-century ago in Cochabamba's floodplain, water is pumped to the foothills some miles away. From there, a second pump, powered by a V8 engine still attached to the chassis of the automobile it had once served, lifts the water 200 meters over a mountain pass to a large tank perched atop a ridge. From there, the maquette showed a thin wire, representing the main pipe, running along the ridge to another set of tanks, from where it descends into the neighborhood for domestic use.
"Every Friday," Condori said, "our workers walk the entire line checking for leaks and clandestine connections. Just two workers check the whole line, every week. We have a 6 percent water loss from leaks. Compare that to SEMAPA's 54 percent. Not bad."
APPAS is an autonomous association, like a cooperative, managed by Condori but governed by the neighborhood itself. "We decide everything by assembly," Condori told me. "When there are enough complaints, we organize special assemblies. When 51 percent of the people vote for something, it becomes law. I don't decide for the people. They decide for themselves."
"What if someone can't pay?" I asked.
"If someone can't pay, we don't shut off the water. Not right away. We encourage neighbors to help out, or we allow them time to get the money together. If time passes, and they still don't pay, eventually we have to cut off the service. But we try to make it easy for everyone.
"In our neighborhood, we have 6,000 water users. When we hold an Assembly, 95 percent of them show up. If someone isn't happy with their service, they speak up."
Progress Spreads
Curious to learn more about the cooperatives, I traveled to the city of Santa Cruz, 150 miles and a world away from Cochabamba, to meet with Gregorio Jaldin, director of the Federacion Departamental de Cooperativas de Agua de Santa Cruz, a union of water cooperatives.
"There are cooperatives in Cochabamba, in La Paz, in Tarija, in Santa Cruz, and we're at the beginning of developing a National Federation of Cooperatives," he told me. "Why? Because we've seen that strengthening community water systems is the only way to build unity among the communities. In the area of health, for example, we've created a clinic to provide health services for free, just with the money that comes from water service. There's a solidarity fund to pay for funerals; if someone dies, the cooperative pays for their funeral. It's like a system of social security, but rather than being administered by the state, everything is run by popular assembly.
"I'll give you an example: Many cooperatives, with the few resources they have, can't buy a pump. But the larger cooperatives can lend them the money until they're able to pay back the loan. If they need pipes or tools, they can borrow them. If they need help digging trenches or expanding their water system, the other cooperatives come out to help.
"The cooperative system is so beautiful, because it's a system of mutual aid, always seeking equality among everyone; it's not about profit or personal gain. In my opinion, a National Federation of Cooperatives is really the answer to Bolivia's water problems."
"Does Evo support the cooperatives?" I asked him.
The question brought a smile, brightened yet more by Jaldin's prominent silver tooth. "People think Evo brought about all the changes in our country," he said. "The truth is, Evo is a product of the social movements."
See more stories tagged with: bolivia, water, bechtel, water privatization, water justice, cochabamba, water democracy
Jeff Conant is the International Research and Communications Coordinator for Food and Water Watch.
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