Rural teachers raise their voices against fumigation

Translation: Karen Elizaga

This is a story about Estela and Emilce, two rural teachers from Gualeguaychú, who reject the use of glyphosate. It is also a story about Ana Zabaloy, a fumigated teacher in San Antonio de Areco who lost her life at the same time I was writing these lines and left her legacy of struggle against the use of chemical pesticides in the fields.

Emilce Altuna loves working as rural teacher. “Here is more quiet and children are great. They come from a humble background and they are all willing to learn. Look at this place! It is so peaceful!” Tells us Emilce, standing at the entrance of Rural School N0 66, where her friend and fighting partner against glyphosate, Estela Lemes, works as principal. “In the countryside everything is more relaxed,” continues Emilce with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. She knows it is not like that anymore. In Gualeguaychú, everything has changed. Nobody can live in peace while the fumigated airplanes spray their deadly cargo over the fields sourrounding your school. How to be quiet while your kids are being poisoned?

“The mad teachers that complaint”

Agribusiness is unscrupulous. It poisons the enviroment without asking. In Argentina, fields are being sprayed anytime, anywhere. “Even though we didn’t know what it was or how harmful it could be to our health, we were against fumigation from the beggining. They started calling us ‘the mad teachers that complaint’. Look at us now,” muses Estela, who has been put on medication for life. Muscle aches, loss of balance and shortness of breath are her daily companions. She suffers from peripheral neuropathy, a condition caused by the exposure to chemical pesticides. In 2014, Estela was diagnosed with ethyl chlorpyrifos in blood, which is a chemical compound used on crops to kill a number of pests, including insects and worms. Exposure surpassing recommended levels has been linked to neurological effects, and persistent developmental and autoimmune disorders. 

The work that doesn’t dignify you, kills you

Everything that is named, exists. That is what the government thinks and that is why it calls “phytosanitary products” to toxic agrochemicals. In the same way, soybean producers don’t recognize that the chemical pesticides they use in their genetically modified (GM) crops harm people; either because they support agribusiness -and the silent ecocide it generates- or because they feel their pockets with green banknotes. But, what happens with the farm workers? Aren’t they aware of the danger that their daily exposure to pesticides implies?  Or maybe the fear of losing their jobs is stronger than the fear of endangering their health? The answer hurts more: “the fear of hunger,” Emilce tells us.

In the countryside, farmers are routinely exposed to high levels of pesticides during the preparation and application of the product, people drink contaminated water and live in areas dominated by glyphosate. Perhaps it is better not to think about the damage that agrotoxins cause to their bodies. People say nothing because they have no choice. They don’t want to loose their jobs and the little they still have got.

In the area where school 42 is located, the water is contaminated. It cannot be consumed but everybody drinks it. “No one here is going to buy bottled water. People are not used to it and they cannot affort it,” Emilce acknowledges.

Why are they targeting rural schools?

In rural schools, sovereignity is put into practice, which is something that people in power don’t like. Teachers know that so they fight tooth and nails to preserve their places. “They don’t want us to be organized. They want us to be submissive, isolated from the community. They don’t want us to spread the fact that glyphosate kills.That’s why they attack rural schools. Not because of the land we occupie but because they don’t want us to speak up,” declares Emilce.

“Stop spraying rural schools and villages. Stop making us sick. Stop killing us,” cried out Ana in a letter that we published a long time ago. Estela, Emilce and many other teachers met her in the fighting against glyphosate and that is how they want to remember her.
A day after Ana’s death, Estela sends me an audio. She needs to talk. “The helplessness and pain that we feel over Ana’s death are terrible. Although the soybean producers don’t give a damn about it, we’re going to continue her struggle. Ana’s name will be everywhere because she put her body and soul to this cause. Her departure will not be in vain.”