In den Elendsvierteln von Buenos Aires haben viele Kinder keine Chance. Sie brauchen Fürsorge, Unterstützung, Essen. Im Hogar Maria Luisa dürfen wenigstens einige auf Hilfe zählen – dank Spenden der help alliance haben sie im Heim ein neues Dach über dem Kopf und endlich eine Zukunft vor Augen.
In the “good” world, you get breakfast at seven o’clock every morning.

In der guten Welt gibt es jeden Morgen um sieben Uhr Frühstück

Feste Zeiten schenken Halt. Sie schaffen Struktur in einem Leben, das keine Regeln kennt. Noch wichtiger: Es gibt jeden Morgen zu essen. Milch, Obst, Croissants.

In der guten Welt hängen Bilder und bunte Buchstaben an den Wänden. C für casa, Haus. M für mariposa, Schmetterling. S für sol, Sonne. In der heilen Welt lernt man auf diese Weise das Alphabet.

Wenn die Kinder hier ankommen, gehen sie durch ein türkisfarbenes Treppenhaus. Sie toben über Flure, in denen der Putz bröckelt, ihnen aber immerhin keine Fäuste ins Gesicht fliegen. Es gibt echte Zimmer hier. Betten, Duschen. Auf dem Hof steht ein Drahtkarussell, es gibt eine Wippe, ein Klettergerüst. Drinnen stehen Puppenhäuser und liegen Bücher, in denen Giraffen lachen und Elefanten prusten. Und auch wenn die Köchin, die Alicia heißt, manchmal ein bisschen schimpft, am Ende nimmt sie einen immer in den Arm.

An den Wänden hängen Comicfiguren. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, die Simpsons. Die Motive hängen hier, in der guten Welt, weil manche der Kinder solche Figuren noch nie zu Gesicht bekommen haben.

The worlds these children come from are a totally different reality.

In den Sphären, aus denen die Kleinen kommen, herrschen andere Realitäten

In den Barrios carenciados, den Elendsvierteln von Buenos Aires, wachsen viele Kinder nicht mit lustigen Geschichten auf, sondern in unvorstellbarer Rohheit. Auf dem täglichen Stundenplan stehen: Armut, Drogen, Gewalt. Die Kinder werden misshandelt, vernachlässigt, vergewaltigt. Andere landen auf der Straße, müssen sich allein durch die 14-Millionen-Metropole kämpfen. Traumatisiert taumeln die Mädchen und Jungen durch eine Kindheit ohne Schule, ohne Zukunft, ohne Hoffnung. Oft ohne Eltern, ohne Familie. Diese Kinder irgendwie aufzufangen ist nicht einfach in einer Gesellschaft, in der 40 Prozent der Erwachsenen und schätzungsweise 70 Prozent der Kinder in Armut leben.

Einige haben Glück. Durch richterliche Beschlüsse können sie den brutalen Verhältnissen entkommen und finden Obhut. So auch hier, im Hogar Maria Luisa, einem Heim für Kinder, die sonst keine Chance haben. Hier, im Viertel von San Martín, hinter gelben Mauern und einer großen Tür, erfahren sie das erste Mal, was es heißt, ein halbwegs normales Leben zu führen.

Verkehrte Welten: In Buenos Aires warten 8000 Kinder auf einen Platz in einem Heim

Im Heim wohnen um die 20 Kinder. Einige kommen im Alter von drei, vier Jahren hierher, andere als junge Teenager. Es ist nur ein kleiner Ausschnitt. Allein im Viertel San Martín warten 1000 Kinder auf einen Platz in einem der Heime, in ganz Buenos Aires sind es um die 8000.

Ziel ist es, einigen von ihnen zu helfen. Wenn die Kinder noch nicht zu alt sind, besteht die Hoffnung, dass neue Eltern sie adoptieren. Bis zu 120 der verlorenen Seelen landen jedes Jahr im Hogar Maria Luisa. Psychologinnen kümmern sich um sie, Pädagoginnen und Sozialarbeiter. Zudem springen viele Ehrenamtliche ein. Sie bringen die Kinder zum Arzt, begleiten sie zur Schule, geben Musikunterricht. Sie malen mit den Kindern Blumen an die Wände, grüne Papageien und Gauchos mit gelben Hüten.

Ana Karina Alvarez

What might sound like everyday life for many children is far removed from a normal education. Ana Karina Alvarez, 50, is the director of the home. She says, “Many of the children have never held a pen in their hands, never seen a ruler. They don’t know what a nursery school is. Hardship is the default setting in their minds.”

The staff have to have insight into the children’s inner worlds in order to understand what they’ve been through. Alvarez remembers, “A boy came to us in the home. We had to teach him how to chew.” He was six. He had never eaten meat, never eaten fish. A whole young life without solid food.

The job of the staff at the home isn’t an easy one. They have to show the children that there’s such a thing as affection, as being valued. By others, by yourself. They have to help them learn what rules are, where the boundaries are, what patience is. Their most important task? Building trust in the context of an existence without foundations.

The Hogar Maria Luisa will soon become „la casa“.

The Hogar Maria Luisa will soon become „la casa“

“The home quickly becomes a centre point for the children”, says Alvarez. And when they realise that they won’t be immediately kicked out again, that no one will deny them food or make their lives hell, they start calling Hogar Maria Luisa la casa. Their home. For many, the first in their lives.

But the home also has external problems to deal with. Thanks to the Lufthansa help alliance, however, the Hogar Maria Luisa receives targeted support. With the help of these charitable donations, builders are currently working on renovating the second floor. The plan is for girls aged 13 and older to find refuge in the new rooms. Girls who would otherwise be left at the mercy of fate in highly vulnerable situations. Money from the help alliance is also being used to help the staff access education training. Some €575,000 in total will be given to the project over the course of three years – and could end up helping more than 300 children find a path to a better life.

As hard as these children’s fates have been, there are success stories

At midday, the first few children come out of school. At the home, it’s time to eat. They have salad, empanadas, juice. The children sit together, chattering and laughing. Little Joselin plays with her braids, while Rocia draws a big car on a piece of paper next to her plate, because she wants to be a bus driver one day. Mikael and Benjamin make their forks zoom through the air, Rodrigo flicks a ball of paper into his empty yoghurt pot: goal!

Name labels are stuck on the chairs, while above the kitchen hangs the Argentinian flag with its yellow sun. Order, warmth. Even the little things are intended to give the children a sense of stability, a feeling of safety. Alicia the cook brings pudding; Gimena Gomez, who works at the home as an educational psychologist, is also sitting at the table. She knows every single child. Their history, their quirks. Their laughter, their tears.

As hard as these children’s fates have been, there are success stories.

The home’s staff have an enormous responsibility. “Every child needs attention, time and individual care”, says Gimena Gomez, 45. “The children are desperate for these things.” For their rights that have never been respected. For the compassion that they’ve never been shown. It often takes months for the children to develop trust. And talk about what they’ve been through.

Rocio, who arrived at the age of six. Who was still in nappies and only walked on tiptoes. He was full of anxiety. His parents had cared for him so little that he still behaved like a baby. Mikael, who grew up almost alone with his two younger brothers and no other family. When he came to the home at the age of four, his milk teeth were rotten. He had outbursts of anger, crawled on all fours and could barely walk. When he was asked if he had parents, he screamed, “No tengo, no tengo!” – I don’t have any!

Then there’s sweet little Joselin, aged six. The youngest of eight siblings. Her father left, her mother disappeared. Only her grandparents remained. But they had no money to look after their grandchildren. Joselin arrived at the age of four. She didn’t speak a word.

But as hard as these children’s fates have been, there are successes. After a month, Joselin began to talk, got on well with the other children, found happiness and built trust. She now goes to school, reads, learns, laughs, and enjoys spending time outside, watering the carrots and tomatoes that they plant at the home. Mikael is now ten. A highly intelligent boy. The staff at the home have realised how gifted he is and have encouraged him. He now helps the other children when they don’t understand something. He plays sports, walks upright and looks forward to the life that awaits him.

“It’s about restoring the children’s basic human rights.”
CORINA HANISCH
“It’s about restoring the children’s basic human rights.”

It’s the afternoon. The children are playing and doing homework on the long table in front of the football pitch. Laundry hangs by the barbecue area. Tiago, 14, takes the football, dribbles the ball around the pitch again and shoots. He’s good, he has real talent. No one knows how often he was beaten, how many nights he spent alone on the streets of Buenos Aires. “Maybe he’ll be discovered as a footballer”, says Corina Hanisch. “We want to give him all the opportunities he deserves.”

Hanisch, 53, is Lufthansa’s Marketing Manager for South America and is coordinating the support for the Maria Luisa home. She, too, knows the children well. She frequently visits the home, gets involved, helps out as a volunteer. “Ultimately, we restore the children’s basic human rights”, she says. The right to non-discrimination, health, education. The right to freedom, play, leisure. The right to be cared for and grow up safe from violence. “That takes love, but also a certain amount of money. And where are children born into poverty supposed to find that?”

Seven o’clock, dinner time. There’s mashed potato, carrots and a big piece of fish for everyone today. Afterwards, the children go to their common rooms on the first floor. They carry on playing, do their homework. Fortunately there are beds here, and second-hand tables and chairs. There are coloured pencils, paper, a little dressing table for the girls.

And then, of course, there are the people. The people who work at the Maria Luisa home, who pop their heads round the doors one last time every evening to wish everyone goodnight. A word that can mean so much. Sleep without fear. Dream without suffering. And hope in your belly.

Tomorrow will be a good day.

In the heart of the action – stories that generate emotion

Author Marc Bielefeld and photographer Jens Görlich deliver first-hand accounts

help alliance

Giving young people a future

Together with local partners, help alliance creates prospects for children, adolescents and young adults worldwide. Find out more about current projects and the organisation’s global commitment.
Go to help alliance
help alliance