Lifelines leading from the river: devastated by recent natural disasters and decades of political turmoil, remote communities along Nicaragua's northern border with Honduras are rebuilding.

• Author: Conaway, Janelle
• Position: Cover Story

On most maps it is the Rio Coco--the Coconut River; to the Miskito Indians it is the Wangki, a sacred waterway. named for their ancestors. Flowing through a remote, rugged terrain of tropical rain forests, the river forms a natural border between Honduras and Nicaragua. It is the central artery that gives life to dozens of Miskito, Mayagna, and mestizo villages along its banks.

Three years ago, fed by the runoff from Hurricane Mitch, the Coco River became a force of destruction. In Yakalpanani, Nicaragua, as in many other villages, residents heard the radio warnings from upriver, headed for higher ground, and were spared the loss of human life. But the surging river uprooted trees, killed pigs and chickens, and swept away every precarious structure in its path. Oddly, it wasn't even raining here.

Modesto Zelaya, a community leader in Yakalpanani, recalling the storm's impact, said, "Hurricane Mitch brought us so much sadness because it took away our little houses with the few things we had, the small clinic and our crops."

The stow was repeated in village after village in this remote region of northern Nicaragua. Thousands of people who had never had much to begin with were suddenly left with nothing, not even a plot of beans.

Out of this loss, a program called Hijos del Rio--Sons of the River--was born. The program, which is scheduled to end in December, was funded by a $3.8 million donation from the Swedish Agency for International Development to Nicaragua, and carried out by the Organization of American States (OAS).

Last June, representatives of the OAS, the Nicaraguan government, nongovernmental organizations, and other groups traveled to the region to inaugurate several new facilities and meet with local indigenous representatives. The visitors arrived in Yakalpanani by helicopter and over the next two days navigated by river to other villages.

On a muggy afternoon punctuated by downpours, most of the nine hundred residents of Yakalpanani gathered outside their new clinic for the festive inauguration. Several little girls wore lace, sequins, or bows, donations sent from afar after the hurricane.

The village has a new primary school and preschool, and a public faucet where the women can fill their buckets, instead of having to hike high up the hill to find drinking water. The medical clinic is equipped with a birthing room, emergency facilities for cholera patients, a generator-powered cooler to store medicines, and easy-to-clean tile floors--no small detail in this muddy river town.

Speaking through a portable sound system, Modesto Zelaya talked about how the village had improved. "Now we have a better clinic, schools, potable water, and houses," he said. "That is why we feel very happy today, and on behalf of this entire humble community we say thank you."

In all, Hijos del Rio has built twenty new schools, five preschools, five medical clinics, and four hundred houses, mostly simple wood structures...