Costa Rica's Isolated
Indigenous Communities
Forgotten
By Bryan Kay,
LatinAmerican Press
Héctor Sánchez stops his
taxi in the middle of a
country road deep inside Bri Bri country and
ushers inside a client
who has waved him down.
The young man, a member
of the Bri Bri
indigenous group, is
heading into town and
joins another two fares
the taxi driver has
already picked up en
route.
Sánchez drives the mile
or so to the municipal
capital "also called Bri
Bri" and drops off his
fares, one after the
other.
The young man, the last
to disembark, pulls out
a 10,000-colon note
(about US$20) to pay the
mere 500 (about $1)
fare.
Sánchez waves him away.
"Later, there's no
hurry. Adios," he says.
It's a gesture seldom,
if ever, witnessed in
the bustling capital,
San José.
But Sánchez is in
Talamanca, the
southeastern region of
Costa Rica that is home
to the native Bri Bri
and their protected
reserve, an area where
he made his home 15
years ago.
He may be a white Costa
Rican, but he could not
be further removed from
the heavily Westernized
culture of urban Costa
Rica.
He was attracted, he
says, by the area's
tranquility. The Bri Bri,
he adds, welcomed him
with open arms, treating
him as an equal.
That privilege, say
members of the Bri Bri,
is not one often
afforded in San José,
especially by the
government, especially
to them.
The Bri Bri have long
campaigned for equal
rights and a better deal
from state coffers.
Economic
discrimination
Community leaders
recount dozens
discrimination
allegations, from simple
mistreatment in everyday
activities such as
taking a bus, to cash
supposedly destined for
Talamanca never
arriving, including
donations said to have
come from European Union
countries for new
ambulances.
They also point to the
disparity in quality of
services between their
region and elsewhere.
Talamanca is one of the
poorest cantons, or
districts "if not the
poorest" in the country,
according to economic
indicators.
But despite their
efforts, the Bri Bri,
along with other,
smaller indigenous
groups in the area, have
recently recorded yet
another alleged affront
to their peoples.
This time they have
identified the
perpetrator as the
administrator of the
local Red Cross, an
organization which is
supposed to serve the
public in times of need,
and, ultimately,
emergency.
The Bri Bri have a list
of complaints before the
Public Defender of
Inhabitants, a central
government body,
detailing incidents
which, they claim,
include abuses,
discrimination and
mistreatment.
In one example, a member
of the community who
sought the assistance of
an ambulance for his
wife was told one was
not available after
calling the local
service operator.
But when he arrived in
Bri Bri, which houses
the Red Cross building,
he saw one parked
outside the local
school.
Another complaint
alleges that
international donations
earmarked for indigenous
groups in Talamanca were
never received by the
supposed beneficiaries.
The administrator denied
he was to blame, but he
did not write off the
allegations, and said it
was part of a campaign
of persecution by a
small band of people.
But Timoteo Jackson, a
Bri Bri indigenous
community leader, said
the Red Cross incident
is just the latest in a
long line of
discriminatory acts
against his people.
"We have had this
problem [with the Red
Cross] for many years,"
he explained. "There is
so much discrimination
for us. When I go to
Ecuador and say I am a
Bri Bri of Talamanca
they are surprised and
show respect."
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