BOGOTA — It is a major crisis point in the world, yet most people don’t even know it exists.If you’ve seen the lastest Mad Max movie, you likely think this dystopian tale is pure fiction. Largely, it is.But what if I told you in the desert lands of La Guajira in northern-most Colombia, living conditions are marked by outright violence, militarization, territorial disputes between paramilitary groups, ruthless smugglers and drug traffickers and a growing lack of food and water — all leading to a burgeoning Sudan-like humanitarian crisis.While the indigenous Wayúu people have somehow managed to survive, the fact remains, the La Guajira desert is drying up.The effects of climate change and actions by an international coal mine means most of their rivers have gone dry or been cruelly redirected.And there are no pipes or aqueducts for this water to reach those in the Wayúu areas. Aid groups say only 3% of the Wayúu have access to water — most of it not very clean water.Some 380,460 people live in the region, according to a 2018 census.Thankfully, several aid groups are responding because they can see what’s coming, including Alison Thompson’s Third Wave Volunteers, WATERisLIFE, UNICEF and the Halü Foundation.Third Wave — a non-profit disaster relief organization founded by Thompson after the 9/11 attacks — is actively working on getting water wells into the region where several Venezuelan and Colombian tribes live.Reached at her home in Miami, Thompson was just returning from rescue operations in the Caribbean, which got hit hard by Beryl.“It’s a red flag emergency,” she said, “in that desert between Venezuela and Colombia, there’s thousands of tribes-people.”.The new Colombian president, Gustavo Petro, made big promises, Thompson said, including new initiatives. But so far, he hasn’t done anything.“There are two reasons why that desert is drying up,” said Thompson. An international coal mine — it’s one of the biggest — redirected 18 rivers, and they simply dried up.”“That left one big river, but the coal mine had it dammed up. Now, hundreds of kids are dying, and livestock are dying from lack of water and food.”Since the start of the war in Ukraine, the gigantic El Cerrejon coal mine has ramped up production, according to a report in Le Monde.Despite efforts by the Colombian president to shut it down, it remains in operation. It is the largest coal mine in Latin America and the tenth biggest in the world.Its 110-carriage coal train, which locals call “the monster" or “the Boa,” roars through the ochre desert of Guajira non-stop.Locals say several tribesman have been killed by the train, goats and sheep by the dozens.But despite significant natural resources, the Guajira remains poor and ignored. Historically, these indigenous people have always resisted, since the Spanish conquest.About one-third of the Wayúu population live in poverty (with one-quarter in extreme poverty,) while more than one in four Wayúu children under five suffer from malnutrition, with an infant dying every week in La Guajira.The rainy season in La Guajira lasts only from September to October, barely enough to grow corn but in no way enough to meet the needs of the local communities in terms of drinking water..Besides a few handouts, the local community receives little benefits from the Cerrejón coal mine, which has generated billions of dollars extracting and exporting coal for multinational corporations for decades.It was initially majority-owned and operated by ExxonMobil, which sold off its shares to Swiss-based Glencore in 2002 for a reported US $600 million.The mine employs three thousand full-time workers, but almost none from the Wayúu community.“I met with the chiefs and I’d never heard this before,” Thompson said. “They said we usually have six or eight kids, but we only have enough water for food for two or three, so we just let the others die.”Thompson does credit the Colombian military for providing security and trucks.“They can’t touch money, but they can give us trucks and drilling equipment.”Financing for the first three of five wells is underway, and Thompson is still looking for more companies to join in.So as not to make any one tribe jealous, the tribes drew up their own map after water surveys were completed.Thompson described it as a “map with squiggles,” but it was an important step in getting everyone onside.“These tribes are very unique, old tribes … and we’re committed to be there for the next 20 years, because it’s very serious.”“We’ve also given medical attention, and seen thousands of people line up for that … but then, medical is the same as water. If they don’t have that, they’re gonna die.”Dolores Epieyuu, leader of the Siwolu clan, lives near the El Cerrejon train tracks, a few dozen kilometers from Uribia. She is worried and weary."It passes every four hours or so, all year round, night and day,” she told Le Monde. “The wind covers us with coal dust escaping from the open carriages."— with files from Le Monde and Progressive International
BOGOTA — It is a major crisis point in the world, yet most people don’t even know it exists.If you’ve seen the lastest Mad Max movie, you likely think this dystopian tale is pure fiction. Largely, it is.But what if I told you in the desert lands of La Guajira in northern-most Colombia, living conditions are marked by outright violence, militarization, territorial disputes between paramilitary groups, ruthless smugglers and drug traffickers and a growing lack of food and water — all leading to a burgeoning Sudan-like humanitarian crisis.While the indigenous Wayúu people have somehow managed to survive, the fact remains, the La Guajira desert is drying up.The effects of climate change and actions by an international coal mine means most of their rivers have gone dry or been cruelly redirected.And there are no pipes or aqueducts for this water to reach those in the Wayúu areas. Aid groups say only 3% of the Wayúu have access to water — most of it not very clean water.Some 380,460 people live in the region, according to a 2018 census.Thankfully, several aid groups are responding because they can see what’s coming, including Alison Thompson’s Third Wave Volunteers, WATERisLIFE, UNICEF and the Halü Foundation.Third Wave — a non-profit disaster relief organization founded by Thompson after the 9/11 attacks — is actively working on getting water wells into the region where several Venezuelan and Colombian tribes live.Reached at her home in Miami, Thompson was just returning from rescue operations in the Caribbean, which got hit hard by Beryl.“It’s a red flag emergency,” she said, “in that desert between Venezuela and Colombia, there’s thousands of tribes-people.”.The new Colombian president, Gustavo Petro, made big promises, Thompson said, including new initiatives. But so far, he hasn’t done anything.“There are two reasons why that desert is drying up,” said Thompson. An international coal mine — it’s one of the biggest — redirected 18 rivers, and they simply dried up.”“That left one big river, but the coal mine had it dammed up. Now, hundreds of kids are dying, and livestock are dying from lack of water and food.”Since the start of the war in Ukraine, the gigantic El Cerrejon coal mine has ramped up production, according to a report in Le Monde.Despite efforts by the Colombian president to shut it down, it remains in operation. It is the largest coal mine in Latin America and the tenth biggest in the world.Its 110-carriage coal train, which locals call “the monster" or “the Boa,” roars through the ochre desert of Guajira non-stop.Locals say several tribesman have been killed by the train, goats and sheep by the dozens.But despite significant natural resources, the Guajira remains poor and ignored. Historically, these indigenous people have always resisted, since the Spanish conquest.About one-third of the Wayúu population live in poverty (with one-quarter in extreme poverty,) while more than one in four Wayúu children under five suffer from malnutrition, with an infant dying every week in La Guajira.The rainy season in La Guajira lasts only from September to October, barely enough to grow corn but in no way enough to meet the needs of the local communities in terms of drinking water..Besides a few handouts, the local community receives little benefits from the Cerrejón coal mine, which has generated billions of dollars extracting and exporting coal for multinational corporations for decades.It was initially majority-owned and operated by ExxonMobil, which sold off its shares to Swiss-based Glencore in 2002 for a reported US $600 million.The mine employs three thousand full-time workers, but almost none from the Wayúu community.“I met with the chiefs and I’d never heard this before,” Thompson said. “They said we usually have six or eight kids, but we only have enough water for food for two or three, so we just let the others die.”Thompson does credit the Colombian military for providing security and trucks.“They can’t touch money, but they can give us trucks and drilling equipment.”Financing for the first three of five wells is underway, and Thompson is still looking for more companies to join in.So as not to make any one tribe jealous, the tribes drew up their own map after water surveys were completed.Thompson described it as a “map with squiggles,” but it was an important step in getting everyone onside.“These tribes are very unique, old tribes … and we’re committed to be there for the next 20 years, because it’s very serious.”“We’ve also given medical attention, and seen thousands of people line up for that … but then, medical is the same as water. If they don’t have that, they’re gonna die.”Dolores Epieyuu, leader of the Siwolu clan, lives near the El Cerrejon train tracks, a few dozen kilometers from Uribia. She is worried and weary."It passes every four hours or so, all year round, night and day,” she told Le Monde. “The wind covers us with coal dust escaping from the open carriages."— with files from Le Monde and Progressive International
