For Jorge Luis Marquez Romero

Read this please , it may be in Spanish and dependent upon my competency at loading images in to this blog it may be sideways on, but read it nevertheless.
Why?
Because it was the wish of Jorge Luis Marquez Romero that a story he had written be read.
I imagine in his brief lifetime he had not expressed many if any desires to anyone, which makes it even more valuable that you take the time to endeavour to read his words.

Jorge was a Lustrabota , one of the shoe shine boys of La Paz. He died soaked in rain, frozen on the streets of La Paz, in December 2013 and was buried on Christmas Day 2013. He was 17 years old. Jorge was an orphan abandoned by his extended family as a child and forced to exist on the streets of La Paz alone. It is extraordinary that he made it to the age of 17.

I do not believe he would have lived as long as he did without the efforts of one extraordinary women  Isabel Oroza the director of a charitable foundation, Arte y Culturas Bolivianas, set up to help those who shine shoes on the street.  Hormigon Armado, (reinforced concrete) is the magazine of the Lustrabotas, produced and printed by Isabel Oroza in her overcrowded work space.

If the boys agree to attend  classes on a Saturday in Sopachaci in La Paz, they receive a quota of 

newspapers to sell and they are entitled to keep the proceeds of their sales from every newspaper sold. Jorge's story was published in the 2014 Jan/ Feb edition, Issue 46.

Isabel Oroza's foundation has similarities in motive to The Big Issue in the UK but from my perspective, the outsider looking in, it is more purposeful and constructive. 

The newspaper was set up upon the proceeds of Villa Serena a restaurant in the Sopocachi district of La Paz. The newspaper headquarters are in the same building as the restaurant. The paper is now self funding as a result of revenue from advertising and through the help of volunteers. The classrooms the boys attend are also in the same building, but it is Isabel Oroza's hope that one day, the foundation will have entirely separate premises.

Boys as young as five and adults in their forties work as shoe shine boys. Those who sit on the street and clean the shoes of others are stigmatised in La Paz. The older shoe shiners may  not have told anyone other than their immediate family that shoe shining is their occupation. In brief, those who sit on the street and clean a pair of shoes for three boliviana a pair are ashamed and because of this they mask themselves to conceal their identity. A balaclava and a baseball hat being the uniform of those who clean paceno shoes.

 My hotel is near El Prado a central walkway in La Paz. After a matter of days spent on the street my boots are so shiny I could, if it was a moonlit night, catch the curve of the moon on my toes. These are the boys, or indeed men I have met.

Davide. Aged 15. He has been shining shoes for 7 years. It is his wish to be an auto engineer. He showed me a paper in his pocket which was his college enrolment form. He has to earn 450 Boliviana a month to pay the course fee, and he is paying it. He has no parents. He lives and sleeps on the streets.

Aurelio. Aged 29. He has been shining shoes for 15 years. It is my occupation he says. If he did not wear his mask I would say in the manner of his pronouncement, he was proud of his work, but he does not allow himself that sentiment. It is clear to me it is because others denigrate the occupation that he has. Aurelio proudly told me that he speaks three languages, Aymara, Chechuan and Spanish. If he cleans 80 pairs of shoes a day at 3 bolivianas, life is good. That adds up to £2.40 for his labor.

He told me that he has a small apartment on the highest slopes of La Paz, in which he lives with his wife and child. In a quieter voice he told me that none of his neighbours know the kind of work that he does.

Jorge. He has been shining shoes for 5 years. He is now 14. The day that I met him he was selling Hormigon Armada. When he is not selling the newspaper he is shining shoes. I did not ask him why

he did not wear a balaclava. I imagine it is self evident; if you begin shoe shining at age 9 you have no sensibility of shame. He lives with his mum in El Alto, the city near the airport. He did not mention his father. He told me he had two small brothers and so he needs to work. There is no money for school so he stopped attending.

In 2011 Luis Revilla, the mayor of La Paz, declared shoe shining, ' a cornerstone of the city's economy, and a dignified job'. The saturday classes Isabel Oroza provides deal with sexual health, human rights, and self respect. Isabel Oroza is reported as saying about the instruction of the shoe shiners, ' We teach them the three R's, responsibility, respect, and that respect breeds respect '.

Perhaps for Jorge times are changing. Perhaps as a result of the combined forces of charity and political intervention, he will never wear a mask.