In Honduras, coastlines are suffocating under the overwhelming amount of trash which has been arriving relentlessly with the tides. Unlike the various bottles and wrappers that occasionally wash up on the busy beaches frequented in the U.S., the phenomenon, which has particularly rocked the ecosystem of the Honduran island of Roatan, is better described as a wall of trash; it spans several kilometers and extends seven meters below the surface of the water (Sanchez 2017).
After nearly two weeks of deliberation, vote counting, and recounting, Honduras still has yet to declare an official winner in its highly contested 2017 Presidential election.
“I saw the [drug cartel] kill someone on the street as I was leaving school. They saw me running away. The threats started this day. They told me if I said anything or moved, they’d kill me. They’d look for me, find me and kill me. The[y] had raped me twice, kidnapped me four times, beat my partner, and mistreated me in so many other ways. They’d said they’d kill me. They also said if I didn’t leave, they’d find my family and kill them, too. So, I decided to go.” Anya, a woman who has fled Honduras, quoted in the UNHCR Women on the Run Report. October 2015).
The combination of high levels of political violence with a relative low number of inter-state armed conflicts has been a secular trend of Latin American history. The 2017 Armed Conflict Survey of the London-based International Institute for International Studies (IIIS) confirms the continuity of that historical pattern –which also happens to confirm a global tendency.
Desde su independencia en 1821, Costa Rica se ha mantenido como uno de los países centroamericanos con menor cantidad de conflictos graves. Esa estabilidad, sumada a condiciones económicas favorables, han hecho que el país haya sido y sea un refugio para muchos inmigrantes centroamericanos. Durante los años setenta y ochenta, por ejemplo, fue el refugio de muchos nicaragüenses que huían de la dictadura de los Somoza primero, y de la revolución sandinista después (Adolfo, 2009).
As the one year anniversary of the Democrat-dominated Senate passing a comprehensive immigration bill commenced this week, President Obama announced his willingness to pursue unilateral action toward addressing the steadily rising influx of Central American children crossing the southern border sans guardians.1 He has declared the issue a “humanitarian crisis.” Nearly 52,000 unaccompanied minors, most of them girls under the age of 13, have crossed the Rio Grande since October, a number over double the usual annual statistic.2 The law that currently stands
Planes land daily in San Pedro Sula, returning over 100 deported Hondurans, mostly young men, donning shackles and telling horrifying tales of US detention centers.
On September 3, 2015, the president of Guatemala resigned after being charged with fraud, illicit association and corruption.1 Less than a week later, in Mexico, the government account of what happened to 43 missing students was discredited, calling into question the integrity of everyone from Mexico’s military to the president himself.2 Neither of these things could have happened without a key element of the investigations: two external investigatory commissions, organized by the UN and the OAS respectively, which turned out reports negating the validity of
March 3, 2016 marked a sad day for activist of human rights, indigenous peoples’ rights and environmental activists. Berta Cáceres, a well-known Honduran activist, was killed at home in the early hours of that Thursday morning. Cáceres fought on many fronts, including human rights, indigenous peoples and the environment, and for this reason, she lived as a target.