High school and university students finished a two day protest yesterday against profits in the Chilean education system. Almost 3000 high school students marched through the Chilean capital of Santiago in the demonstration organised by the Coordinadora Nacional de Estudientes Secundarios (CONES) on Wednesday, calling for the state to take a bigger role in Chilean education.

Private University students also took to the streets to campaign against profits in the higher education sector. The protest, which was supported by the Confederación de Estudiantes de Chile (CONFECH) comes a week after a Court Hearing in which seven Universities were accused of failing to maintain non profit status.

Wednesday’s march began as a peaceful protest but ended in the arrests of 35 students. The atmosphere became hostile when police arrived towards the end of the day and began attempting to disburse and question students.

Chilean President Sebastián Piñera criticised the student movement at the G20 where he accused the students of spreading “misconceptions” and claimed that they were “heavily influenced by the communist party”.

Students claim that their education system is suffering from a lack of state regulation and accused the government of having few answers.

“Institutions are acting illegally, with no regulation from the state,” said the president of the Federacion de Estudiantes de la Universidad Santo Tomás.

Minister for Education, Harald Beyer responded by saying “we are increasing the funding system, we are increasing regulation, we are doing many things that point to an improved education system.”

The student movement in Chile, sometimes called the ‘Chilean Education Conflict’ launched in May 2011 as an opposition to the profit across secondary and higher education in Chile. Since then there have been 40 protests organised by student groups. State education in Chile was dramatically reduced under General Pinochet’s regime which ended in 1990 and now most universities are privately owned and a large proportion of secondary students attend private schools.

Students are angry about what they see as too much corporate involvement in education and are demanding more free and state run institutions.

The protests will culminate on the 28th of this month with a national student strike, also marked by the October municipal elections and the presidential year 2013.

For the first time, this week will be dedicated to celebrating the siesta in Argentina.

The celebration will consist of various activities that allow students to learn to relax and nap as a way to address the shortage of sleep at night.

Daniel Cardinali, senior researcher in sleep medicine and director of teaching and medical sciences at the Católica University said, “sleep deprivation is a fact. People sleep two hours less than 40 years ago. Therefore, the afternoon nap is a good way to recover that sleep which is lost at night by watching television, over working or using the computer”.

The activities of siesta week are organised by the Abierta Interamericana University,  the ecological park and the Buenos Aires nap centre, ‘Selfishness’.

The events consist of custom naps and workshops for stress management.

People who do not get enough sleep tend to be more irritable, often putting pressure on their relationships with others. In addition, poor sleep is a risk factor for hypertension, diabetes and cardiovascular disease. According to Cardinali, “more companies in Argentina should pay attention to the scientific evidence”.

Yesterday a march organised by the Confederation of Students of Chile (CONFECH) moved around 30 thousand university students to the Ministry of Education to demand greater public education budget.

The march was supported by the rectors of the University of Santiago and the Technical Metropolitan University. They also received the membership of secondary students and academics, among others.

The march started outside the University of Santiago and moved to the Ministry of Education, in downtown Santiago.

Other similar demonstrations took place simultaneously in the Chilean cities of Talca, Valparaíso, Concepción, Temuco, La Serena, Coquimbo, Valdivia and Puerto Montt.

The demonstrations demand that the Chilean government of President Sebastián Piñera increase the funding for public education. They also reject the reforms announced by the government to the higher education system.

Camila Vallejo, president of the Students Federation of the University of Santiago, said the protest claims “to regulate the private education industry.”

The Minister of Education of Chile, Joaquín Lavín, summoned the presidents of the student associations to a meeting next week. But university representatives have rejected the proposal.

In front of the Ministry of Education in Santiago, police cracked down on a group of students who tried to reach the palace ‘La Moneda’.

Story courtesy of Agencia Púlsar, the news agency of AMARC-ALC.

University Women's Club (Photo: Melissa Riggall)

It’s 12.30pm on a Tuesday afternoon. The dining room at the Pur Sang club in Recoleta is filled with tables draped in white and the hum of chatter. It’s time for the monthly luncheon of the Buenos Aires University Women’s Club.

The Club was founded in May 1935 and celebrated its 75th anniversary last year. It was originally created for English-speaking women with university degrees, though this latter criterion has since been broadened to include all higher education qualifications. “The best things about the Club are its longevity, its transparency, such as publishing finances, and the way it values women for who they are,” says member Joanna Richardson.

This isn’t your average ‘ladies who lunch’ situation; the initial premise of the club was to further cultural and educational interests and the 2011 Board cling tightly to this aim.

Current activities include a language and music course entitled ‘Italian Through Opera’, French conversation classes and ‘Spanish Through Experience’, where participants make trips to places of cultural interest and learn some associated vocabulary. Cinema and theatre outings take place, followed by discussion, and recently there was a special members-only tour of the Teatro Colón. On the literary side, there is a “lively” Book Club and workshops for budding and established writers to hone their skills. It seems there is a wealth of literary expertise available; last month, member Bonnie Ridley Kraft published her book in the USA, a work set in Czechoslovakia after the fall of communism.

The idea that learning should not stop after university seems to underpin many of the group’s activities. The luncheons, to which members can bring male and female guests, each feature a talk on an interesting issue. In March, for example, the South African ambassador to Argentina, Uruguay and Paraguay spoke about the life of Nelson Mandela.

Marilyn Fogg (Photo: Melissa Riggall)

April’s speaker was Marilyn Fogg, whose talk was entitled: ‘Neuro Linguistic Programming and Improved Communications.’ Despite its scarily scientific-sounding title, the talk was jargon-free and focused on reading body language and the importance of non-verbal communication versus verbal (93% against 7%, apparently).

We were asked to complete exercises in pairs such as experimenting with different distances between us whilst conversing. The floor was thrown open to questions and amusing personal anecdotes were shared. The conclusion: good communication is vital in all areas of life.

As we were treated to a lunch of sole followed by Capellina with ice-cream, I chatted to president Patricia Caviezel, originally from Buffalo, New York. “We’ve recently had a few international members go back home so it would be good to welcome some new members,” she told me. Currently, the age range of the women is from thirties up to 96, but they would also welcome younger women to maintain the Club’s strength through diversity. The 150 members represent 15 nationalities including Argentine, South African, North American, Japanese, British and Austrian. The accents are as varied as the women’s life stories.

Caviezel, for example, came to Buenos Aires in the ‘60s on a two-month art teaching exchange programme and ended up meeting her now husband. She taught for many years at an American international school, where her career encompassed the last dictatorship and the Falklands dispute. She continues to paint and to volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.

Women's University Club (Photo: Melissa Riggall)

There are ambassadors’ wives, doctors, writers and women from many other professions. I meet Beatriz Whiteman, a retired teacher and translator, whose father was English and mother Argentine. She enjoys the club as it gives her a chance to keep up her English. Fellow Argentine and hospitality chairwoman Sandra Affranchino agrees: “I went to English school as a child so our meetings are a good chance to practice. It’s a great exchange. You get to know others from around the world and their different ways of thinking and living.”

The Club’s motto is ‘Friendship and learning through the universal mind’. Here in Recoleta I have encountered a special group of women who are eager to get to know both each other and the world in which they live.

In the dank bathrooms of the Filosofia y Letras department at the illustrious University of Buenos Aires (UBA) dirty plastic bottles of water are provided in lieu of reliable plumbing and the floor is flooded by ulcerous toilets.

UBA hallway littered with propaganda (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Lighting is dim, there are drifts of tattered posters trampled underfoot and the windows leak. In the cafeteria pigeons flap among the rafters while below students sit on mismatched or broken chairs and clattering ceiling fans barely move air around the corridors. Limited resources and learning materials are manifest in long queues to collect inch-thick photocopies of core texts.

This isn’t an anomaly – it’s typical of buildings across a number of faculties including social sciences and medicine and is the sad product of low investment and political negligence over the years. Although UBA has established an international reputation of academic excellence over the past two centuries, the daily reality of studying there today is a decidedly less glamorous tale.

Breaking news

In August 5m pane of glass fell out of a window in social sciences, shattering onto the ground below. Does a student have to end up in hospital before somebody takes notice?

As a result, thousands of students decided to act, launching a 45-day strike that closed department buildings, blocked major roads, paralysed study and drew national media attention to the UBA’s malignant infrastructure.

Although the strike happened at that particular time and place, a rumble of discontent has been gathering force among alumni and educators at all levels of the system and it represented a nationwide revolt against the state of public education in Argentina today.

Emilsa Rizzuto, 19, member of La Brujula (Frente Estudiantil Revolutionario), was in favour of the strike. Speaking from a murky foyer on a floor where there’s no running water or ventilation she says: “UBA has an incredible reputation and we want to take advantage of having a free education here but not in buildings that are literally falling down around us.

“We spoke to the Consejo Directivo de la Facultad but they didn’t answer us so we took matters into our own hands and organised road blocks in 9 de Julio and Av. Callao but it’s not normal that we should have had to take it this far,” she says.

Rebelion party drums at UBA during the elections (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Student Activism

The social sciences department, whose students are among the most politically active in the university was the nexus of the strike. Their principle demand was for a single, safe building in which to study. The faculty currently has five disciplines which are taught in three different buildings scattered across the city: Santiago del Estero 1000, M. T. De Alvear 2200 and Ramon Mejía 800 – all of which are in grim condition. Following protests in 2003, the university bought a 25,000 m² property in Constitución and it has been under construction ever since.

According to Cristian Henkel, Partido Obrero (PO) activist and social sciences student, the strike was as much about each individual department or school’s problems as it was about the chronic situation nationwide.

“The situation is pretty serious in this country and it culminated in the students launching a strong campaign demanding a rise in the education budget to repair buildings and improve learning conditions so that they have the very least they need to study: space to sit down and ceilings that aren’t falling on their heads during lessons,” he says.

The strike was eventually lifted after protests came to a head with over 200 students and lecturers taking the national ministry of education for ten hours. They created damage and picked fights with the police that resulted in ten students and three officers with minor injuries and one arrest.

The ministry has promised to grant UBA $20m to finance the last section of the new building and guaranteed that by January 2011 at least 30% of the rooms will be usable in a document signed by the secretary for universities, Alberto Dibbern, the dean of UBA, Rubén Hallú, and eight social sciences students.

At what cost?

While more militant political student groups like the PO are celebrating a victory after the longest strike in UBA history, there are many students and lecturers that believe that the protests damaged their credit in the public eye. They feel just as strongly about the current situation but promote negotiation as the best way to make their argument.

A list of pros and cons from 45 days of protest (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

The nature of any strike is short-term suffering for the long term objective, Henkel says. “Clearly the protest had a short term impact on our studies but it was for the greater good: to improve conditions for everyone,” he adds.

Not everyone sees eye to eye with him. Pedro Hip, 24, member of the Juventud Nacional y Popular, was against the strike. Speaking from under a battered awning of political posters outside the Caballito social sciences building while canvassing for student elections, he defends his position:

“A strike should only ever be the last resort – after all other methods have failed. From the outset people were looking for an excuse to protest. There are elections this year and voting isn’t obligatory so groups like the PO want to be seen to be doing something proactive.

“We’re not against what they are demanding – it’s about the way they go about it. There are other ways to achieve our goals and ultimately it’s the students who are suffering.

Although some lecturers supported the strike by giving public lessons in the street or in cafes, a lot of classes were cancelled and finals postponed. A lot of students actually dropped out before the faculties re-opened and Hip fears that the protests could deter potential applicants.

Political priorities

Students may have won the skirmish but the battle for funding won’t be resolved without a radical change in education policy and a commitment from the government to improve conditions.

There is an irresponsible lack of investment in the infrastructure of public education in Argentina. It seems that it’s not a question of whether the funds exist but how their spending is prioritised by those that allocate them.

Elections at Ciensas Sociales of UBA (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

In Argentina the quality of education itself is excellent, producing a high calibre of working professionals like doctors and teachers but according to Ignacio Pereyra, a history student in Filosofia y Letras, this is completely undermined by politicians like Mauricio Macri, mayor of Buenos Aires.

“He tidied the streets, cut the grass, renovated the parks and Teatro Colón. It looks beautiful – but ultimately this is all superficial and none of his policies go deeper into maintaining the infrastructure of the public system, neither in education nor health.

“It’s a story of suffering. It’s hard to study here but we’re proud to be UBA students – it’s a totally different experience from studying in a private university. Most of the teachers are ad honorem – they do it because they love their subjects – they’re practically volunteers. So we have brilliant teachers that aren’t paid and students that study for a long time in miserable conditions because they want to learn – this is why we have to speak out to defend our education,” he says.

We’ve all been there. First time away from home, sporting a nice tan from weeks of idling on foreign shores; possibly even a coconut shell earring or a tattoo if you’re really brave; long tousled locks held back by a hairband (if you’re a boy) or the bedhead look (if you’re a girl), aviators, baggy and raggy clothes and flip flops. It’s everywhere. They’re everywhere. Gappers.

The sight of some of them makes me snigger, others make me retch. What makes it worse is that I was once that person – though I maintain never as bad – but alas I was. Is that why I resent them so much now?

I have no problem with the gap year. On the contrary I think it’s one of the best ideas in the world, so much so that I think it should be made compulsory for all school leavers. The benefits of taking a year off to work and travel are wasted on few. It is an adventure in self-discovery, even if you don’t realise it. A year in the life of a teenager is always a big learning curve. Add to this the ‘away from home’ and freedom factors, and a gap year is bound to be hugely beneficial for personal development. But that’s just it… It’s all about ME!

As long as people a) are honest about what they are getting out of a gap year, and b) don’t think they are the first to do it, there is no problem.

The gap year has started to come under fire, no doubt as a result of people starting to question the worth of these boardshorted bodies wandering the streets of the world. The debate has become particularly contentious since Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO), the international development charity, launched a report arguing that many overseas gap year programmes – especially those in lower-income countries – do more harm than good.

As an old-gapper (O.G.) myself I can wholeheartedly agree with this view. Looking back on the project I took part in in Peru over three years ago, I can honestly say that I got an infinitely more out of it than the children we were helping. Don’t get me wrong, I do not think we did more harm than good but the reality is that gap year students for the most part will spend no more than a couple of months volunteering. While whoever they are helping will enjoy their support during that time, the effects are transient and the vast majority of gappers have no lasting effect on the communities they lived with. Though some will, in a negative way.

There is an overwhelming stereotype that gap years are the sole domain of the white middle-class. And while this a stereotype, it does exist for a reason. Moreover, the gappers I speak of in this article refer exactly to those stereotypes. So if you’re doing something unique on your year abroad, spending it with people you didn’t go to school with or, low and behold, people from another country, then ignore this rant. I, as do we all, refer to a particular kind of gapper.

We all know the type. The boy who followed his friends from the local STA branch half way round the world without ever looking at a map and realising where he was. The girl who got stuck in Goa for the entirety of her gap year, with only dreadlocks and body art to show for it. The group of school friends who’s month in Thailand is a blur of buckets of UV paint. These stereotypes were previously reserved for the well worn Asia to Australia route but the Latin America travel boom has seen these teenagers migrate westwards.

A friend of mine had the fortune of stopping by one of Buenos Aires’ most renowned hostels. It is the place to see and be seen on the South American gapper circuit and I’m sure most you know it, and perhaps some of you are even staying there now. It oozes gap year tragedy and group fun, but it should not be knocked for that. Rather for the type of people who stay there. While waiting for gapping daughter of some of her parent’s friends she had a glance through the guestbook. There on the open page lay the prophet if you will of the gap year tale: “Took coke all night. Slept all day. Amazing.” Sadly this is what many travellers’ porteño experiences boil down to: a twilight, drugged view of the city.

It’s all so predictable. They even dress and talk the same way. A bizarre characteristic of the gap year is the widespread approval of ‘poo chat’ and I don’t mean boring chat. I refer to the well-versed international traveller discourse about bowel-movements. Why is this so acceptable? All it takes is a knowing nod before you’re knee deep in poo.

It’s testament to how obvious and boring some people’s gap years really are. You can actually tell from someone’s clothes where they have been travelling. Students count down the days to the end of school… no more lessons, no more uniform, freedom. Then within hours of landing in their destination they kit themselves out in another uniform. In Southeast Asia it’s the fisherman trousers and fakes of every kind – handbags, t-shirts, DVDs. In Africa it’s the Kikoy and some ‘ethnic’ beads. In Australia and New Zealand it’s anything with Quiksilver and Billabong written across it. In India it’s some other form of baggy raggy trouser (to me the fisherman trouser, but I am assured they are different) and Himalayan slippers and hats. In Latin America it’s the horrific ‘traveller trousers’, the big hairy rug-cum-scarf (no-one really knows what they’re supposed to be) and some llama paraphernalia. Then you accessorise with the internationally recognised frills: flipflops (Havaianas if you’re anybody worth knowing), Raybans (Aviators or Wayfarers? Or Wayfarers or Aviators?), the oh-so-not-unique piercing, the drunken tattoo and of course the coconut shell signet ring (Daddy told me not to wear my gold one on the beach). Of course all must be worn with as much hanging out as possible… bum, boobs, pubes.

A friend summed up the phenomenon nicely: “When I was in Mexico I bought about 20 of those weird belt things because I saw an indigenous woman wearing one and thought ‘oooohh how authentic’. When I got home to London I wore it once and realised how awful it was. Thank God they only cost 20p.”

You think you may be getting away from it all on your gap year. Escaping the tedium of home, work or those people. But no. Name dropping gets worse east of the Indian Ocean, only trendy London bars are replaced by hip hostels. ‘Place-dropping’ becomes a favourite activity, second only to poo talk.

Lying on a beach in Mexico I was stirred by the sound of some English squall. “Oooh ma gawd!! Nooo way! Were you in Phi Phi two months agooo??”. No I wasn’t, but the groups of gappers behind me were. It’s like being back at school again. Instead of being the girl without a boyfriend in the 1st XI, I was the girl who HADN’T been in Phi Phi in April. The only one apparently. Each year there is somewhere ‘you just haaaave to go’. I guess I didn’t get the memo, or, more precisely, the seventeen thousandth group email planning it all.