Latin American London: The People’s Project

Last month,  LADPP (Latin American Disabled People’s Project) celebrated 19 years of community work. In the occasion, big changes  were announced to tackle the economic crisis.

London Voices presents the last  article of the special  report on Latin American London.

Edinson is busy serving food and drinks, but he doesn’t waste an opportunity to chat. “Mucho gusto”, he says, introducing himself with a friendly smile and starts to tell me why he left Ecuador 14 years ago.  Language aside, it is difficult to understand Edinson, but while people rush around to keep the party going, he seems to have all the time to talk.

“I live here with my mum, my sister and my brother, and they look after me. I was living in Madrid before, but I am in London for 12 years now. In Ecuador, I had five accidents. I spent a year in hospital when I was younger. And now I can’t work, but I am learning English. I have been going to classes for nine months, and it is good, I enjoy it very much.”

Edinson (right) welcomes everybody to the party. Image: Giovana Zilli

The community hall in Kennington, South London, quickly becomes crowded, the music louder and suddenly, everybody stops to sing “Happy Birthday”. Nineteen years ago, a group set up a charity in London to help Portuguese and Spanish speaking disabled people, who face an extra challenge: to speak English.

Today, the Latin American Disabled People’s Project (LADPP) is celebrating with more than 700 members and 40 volunteers. Project Manager Jhon Jairo Marulanda explains the charity’s upcoming change of name and structure:

“It is more difficult to find sponsors when we have a project so specific. The big companies want to sponsor charities that help the community as a whole, not only a small group. Based on that, we have been expanding our services to the friends and family of the disabled, and to any person who speaks Spanish or Portuguese, and needs our help”.

The LADPP “trust” status is going to be changed to “company limited by guarantee” (not limited company), which means that the board will have bigger protection against liability.

Marulanda clarifies: “We change the name and the legal status. But the organisation will carry on being a charity, offering the same service it has been doing so far. We are going to make more contacts with other charities, not only with the ones who work with the disabled. The project is going to reach more people in the community, so we need to change the name to Latin American People’s Project, LAPP.”

After the changes are approved by the assembly, the party goes on in a typical Latin American fashion throughout the Saturday afternoon.  The vibrant colours and electric atmosphere leave little doubt:  it is a proper fiesta, where music and dance range from Colombian traditional cumbia and Mexican mariachi to Brazilian samba and capoeira (People don’t need to be asked twice to abandon their seats and quickly improvise a ballroom).

Mexican mariachi were also present. Image: Giovana Zilli

However, Edinson doesn’t have time to dance. He is busy fetching drinks for the ones less able to walk. Although he is not physically disabled, he seems to be aware of limitations: “I have a problem in my head, you know… I can’t even get married because of that”.

In the refectory, Colombian Francisco Dimate, who volunteers as a health interpreter, fill the plates while he speaks to me: “I come here because I believe it is important to help the community”. As well as Francisco, the artist Rachel Bate decided to join the LADPP to help out with fundraising, artistic workshops and “a little bit of everything”, as she puts it.

“I used to study Spanish some time ago, so I wanted to practice it but also to help people. The LADPP is one of the few charities where people speak Spanish all the time. In the future, I want to look for a job in the charity sector,” says Rachel, who is in her early twenties. “Charities are struggling with the economic crises, but at the same time, people are volunteering more because they don’t have a job after finishing uni.”

Delia Bonilla had different motivations for joining the group of volunteers, though. Divorced and with four children, she decided to move from Ecuador to Spain almost two decades ago, in search of better job opportunities. She had to provide for the children, one of them disabled, who had stayed in Ecuador with relatives. Some years after her departure, they all moved to Spain:

“I lived in Spain for five years before coming to the UK, and there, the social services didn’t help me to cope with my disabled daughter, I didn’t have any help at all. So I came to the UK, where we have much more support. I have been living here for 13 years now”.

Delia runs a knitting and crochet workshop every Monday, but as well as being a volunteer, she also attends English classes offered by the charity. “LADPP helps us with paper work that sometimes can be quite difficult to understand, especially if you struggle with the language.  They help us in many ways. They give us psychological and moral support,” she says, showing me a couple of colourful hand bags, knitted from plastic bags.

Walter Caradi represents the charity's directive board. Image: Giovana Zilli

LADPP provides advice on legal and health issues, job seeking, organising English, IT, arts and crafts lessons, and also opportunities to meet other people. From walks in the park to trips to other parts of England, the charity works hard to break the isolation in which most of its members live.

With Delia organising woolly baby jumpers and hens made of crochet, and Edinson enjoying helping the community, a short woman comes in my direction, just as I am ready to leave. Marta introduces herself as a volunteer for another organisation that helps Hispanic communities around the world.

The Spanish charity El Teléfono de la Esperanza (The Telephone of Hope) opened its London office last year. Marta is keen on telling me about their services, gives me the phone number of the project coordinator and insists that I call.

Suddenly,I remember another big number I came across a couple of days before. As Marta stares at me, barely blinking her eyes, I try to make sense of the figure published by the Charity Commission: there are 159,600 main charities in England and Wales.

In the beginning of that afternoon, Walter Caradi, president of LADPP’s directive board, said to the assembly: “The future is uncertain, because the economic crisis is hitting our organisation hard.” Marulanda agrees: “Broadening our services to all the community also gives us the opportunity to compete in the market for money.”

While their words echo in my mind, Marta waves me goodbye. Edinson is by the door, taking a well deserved break. He smiles and gives me a thumbs up, before disappearing in the middle of the crowd again.

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