Poverty and violence have a firm grip on El Salvador and drive many young people into the arms of criminal gangs. Where the state abandons them, Quetzalcoatl takes the concerns and fears of endangered young people seriously. Our partner organisation makes a decisive contribution to preventing violence from escalating further.
Andrea Zellhuber, responsible for violence prevention
"Our neighbors were afraid of us. When we walked down the street, people would change to the other side," says Andrés Hernández (name changed), 23, from Apopa, a city of 150,000 people in the greater San Salvador area. Apopa, where five gangs (maras) are fighting for control, has the second highest murder rate in El Salvador. Andrés Hernández was 13 when he joined a youth gang. At the age of 14 he was sent to prison for half a year. "We did a lot of shit. During that time I was just hanging out in the gang. I made bad mistakes," he reports evasively. He doesn't want to tell you any more details.
Getting out before it really started
Unlike many of his peers, however, he was lucky: after his prison stay he came into contact with the social workers of Quetzalcoatl, the partner organisation of terre des hommes schweiz in Apopa. That was the turning point in his life. Through their close support, the many conversations and workshops, he was able to come to terms with his situation and his deeds. At the same time he learned in the youth group to respect himself and others. With the support of Quetzalcoatl, he managed to get out of crime before his criminal career took off in earnest.
The legacy of the civil war
The path that Andrés Hernández had taken at the age of 13 would otherwise have led him into hard crime and almost certainly into death. El Salvador has one of the highest murder rates in the world. Violence is omnipresent in the Central American country. Young people are particularly affected by it - both as victims and perpetrators. They are particularly vulnerable to recruitment by the gangs. Often the gang members come from broken families, see no other life perspective and have a huge rage in their stomachs. Because poverty and war trauma still have a firm grip on the country 25 years after the end of the civil war (1980 - 1992). The country's long history of violence helps to understand why youth violence is reaching such terrible levels today. During the war, countless young people fled to the USA, where they came into contact with street gangs. In self-defense they formed their own gangs. After the war, many were then deported to their home countries. They imported the gang culture into the war-torn country. The hopelessness of the post-war years was a fertile breeding ground for the violent maras, which spread rapidly. Today the gangs have an estimated 70,000 members and 750,000 sympathizers. With their strict rules and brutal rituals, the gangs offer them structure and protection. For many young people they are a kind of family substitute.
State overreacts with repression
The state, for its part, is overwhelmed by the situation. Hardly any financial resources are available for the education and support of young people. Nor does it pursue a prevention policy that addresses the causes of this development and develops social countermeasures. The government reacts merely with repression, an omnipresent police presence and violence. The security forces often act arbitrarily without having to fear any sanctions.
Maras or police - who is worse
For young people, a tattoo, a certain outfit or hairstyle is enough to make them appear suspicious to the police. "As an adolescent, you are always labelled a potential criminal or a good-for-nothing. Being young is a crime in this country," says Andrés Hernández. For their part, the population of the poor quarters is usually even more afraid of the unpredictable police than of the maras. This is because the gang members come from their own neighbourhoods, with whom they can negotiate in some cases.
Alternatives to the survival strategy Mara
Where the state fails, non-governmental organisations such as Quetzalcoatl, which is supported financially and with know-how by terre des hommes schweiz, fill the gap. Quetzalcoatl offers vulnerable young people in San Salvador who have not yet landed in the clutches of the maras alternatives to the mara survival strategy. And it shows those who have had their first criminal experiences ways out of the spiral of violence. To do this, its social workers need a great deal of patience, skill and empathy, because the young people feel they are being pushed into a corner by prejudice and mistrust.
Employees come from the same environment
The staff and volunteers of Quetzalcoatl know how the young people feel. They are young themselves, come from the same environment and know their need for belonging and respect. Within the group, they offer the young people a protected environment to share their worries and fears. Quetzalcoatl works with them to develop non-violent community activities in which they can contribute their own ideas and interests and at the same time commit themselves to improvements in their neighbourhood. In addition, some young people from each of these groups are trained as youth leaders, who in turn build up new youth groups and become positive role models for other at-risk youth, such as Andrés Hernández.
A new chance for Andrés Hernández
At first I didn't really understand what the people of Quetzalcoatl wanted from me," he recalls of his first contacts with the organization. "But they were persistent and the meetings in the youth group moved something in me. Eventually I understood that my life would never get better if I stayed in the gang. In the group, the 30 or so young people were able to discuss topics that had never been discussed at school. It was about sexuality, conflict resolution and how the young people are treated in the community. "We then thought about what we could do in our neighbourhood. For example, there was the only small football pitch in our neighbourhood that was totally littered and neglected. That's why we started a rubbish collection campaign and painted the posts," says Andrés Hernández about his group's first actions. At first the neighbours did not want to participate. "But we didn't give up, and as time went by more and more people trusted us and joined in." These were followed by parties and neighbourhood activities organised by the young people, in which the parents and the neighbourhood were also involved. These concrete and visible activities fostered a sense of community in the neighbourhood and completely changed attitudes towards the young people. Today, the neighbourhood community is more cohesive and can therefore better counteract the further escalation of violence and protect itself.
And Andrés Hernández? He lives with his parents and works as a social worker in a prison. He seems very mature for his 23 years, secure and also optimistic. He has learned that he can give his life a positive turn by his own efforts - a realization he now passes on to others.
