But our options were drying up. I approached the priest with
a written contract that would allow me to maintain control over the treatment
system, and would put the group of citizens in charge of the day-to-day
operations, but he refused to sign the contract. The cistern was permanently
installed in the ground, so we couldn’t just pick up and start over somewhere
else. I considered selling the system to the priest and building a new system in
another area of the island, but I knew that if I participated in the Padre
Jhonny’s corrupt plan, people in Muisne would not trust any other system that I
later constructed.
Needless to say, I was upset about what was coming of all the
time and money I had invested in the construction. But I wasn’t the only one who
was angry. As word spread about Padre Jhonny’s determination to profit from the
people of Muisne, people began to talk about removing the priest from his post.
But rather than go through the bureaucratic hierarchy of the Catholic Church,
the angry citizens considered starting a riot, and forcibly removing the priest
from power. This was not a better option, in my view, than abandoning the system
altogether. It would have alienated me and my project from many people in Muisne
and the rest of the province, and I would have turned into a troublemaker
instead of someone who genuinely wanted to improve the health of the residents
of Muisne.
There was one final alternative. Several locals who had
worked on the project traveled with me to the provincial capital, Esmeraldas, to
confer with the bishop in charge of the province. I explained my situation to
him, and he promised to support me. He signed a letter that essentially
commanded Padre Jhonny to sign the contracted I had originally presented to him.
He later signed it—grudgingly—while muttering critical comments as he did so.
A few days later, we finished constructing the treatment
system. I tested the first batch of water, and the results revealed no E. coli
or general coliforms. This was the first water produced in Muisne to be
completely free of bacteria.
Muisne’s drinking water faces many problems, from the individual bacteria and
parasites, to the high water table and sandy soil, to the dearth of education
about domestic water hygiene. But of all the challenges I faced, the political
system was the most difficult for me to surmount. Currently, a group of
concerned citizens distributes water from the church every day. Several weeks
ago, Muisne’s nuns along with several local church goers successfully deposed
Padre Jhonny. A new priest is now in charge of Muisne’s church and has been
supportive of the treatment system. But the treatment system still rests in a
town controlled by the mayor, Jhonny’s cousin, and there are still people in the
town who hope to profit from the treatment system. Politics was the greatest
threat to the completion of my project, and continues to be the greatest threat
to its proper implementation.
Since returning from Ecuador this fall, I have formed a non-profit
organization to raise funds so that I can continue constructing other treatment
systems in areas around Muisne. As I consider expanding my project, I often
think about how to cope with problems I may encounter with local officials later
on. Although I think my initial success in Muisne will win me some credibility,
since many people have started to use the water and neighboring towns have sent
delegations to ask for similar treatment systems in their towns, I know this
will be a fight that I will always have to face. If it’s not a problem with
Padre Jhonny, I will probably have difficulty dealing with a government
official. Outside of Ecuador also, I now realize that any public health project
that I or anyone takes on will inevitably have to deal with the political as
well as the scientific. And the politics can easily do a scientifically-sound
project in.