Mujeres Valientes: Food and Love for the Neighborhood Children

By Lucila Rolón

There is always a bird singing when, at six in the morning, Hordalina opens her eyes and turns off the alarm clock. “Thank you, God, for another day,” she repeats without hesitation and, with a mate in hand, goes straight to greet her plants—a green necklace of leaves, stems, and flowers that connects her house to one of the 160 streets paved in 2022 in the A4 neighborhood of Posadas, Misiones. It doesn’t take long for a neighbor to join her in chopping onions while Hordalina lights the fire. By noon, the meals must be ready to feed 100 children.

It’s a project run by 40 women from the popular economy, born out of Hordalina’s dream: “I raised six kids on my own; I know what it’s like. That’s why I wanted to create a dining hall so women could have some support. It’s a lie that we can’t make it without a man.” She was 30 when, alongside 15 neighbors, she began bringing the dining hall to life. Today, 40 women sustain the initiative. The oldest, aged 92, bakes homemade bread and fritters for the snacks; she goes to church every day to pray for everyone. The youngest is a 14-year-old single mother.

Networks of Love

The housing complex in the A4 neighborhood was built to house families relocated from another part of Posadas. They had to leave their homes on the banks of the Paraná River due to the expansion of the Yacyretá hydroelectric plant. The neighborhood earned a bad reputation, as many areas neglected by the state often do. That’s why the dining hall is so cherished by the community.

Ester, 69, has three children she raised alone and a five-year-old grandson who goes with her to the dining hall. Everyone feels at home there. She learned to sew when she started receiving government aid; to access the Universal Child Allowance (AUH), she needed to learn a trade. This helped her support her family, and now she teaches other women who are victims of gender violence to do the same: “I enjoy being part of this community and teaching what I know, which may not be much to some, but combined with my drive to make and create things, it makes a difference,” she says confidently.

They also sew for the children: “We repair clothes; if donations come with defects, we fix everything, adjust sizes, sew buttons to keep the children warm when they go to school,” she proudly shares. For everyone, the children are the priority.

“People think that in a community snack program, kids just come, eat, and leave, but it’s not like that. Here we do human things: we provide comfort, teach them to play, to think. When they know it’s snack time at three in the afternoon, they stand with their mugs in hand, waiting to see if there’s bread. We always find a way to have something. Dali works magic with the little we have.” Ester laments that the government no longer provides food support as it once did: “It’s painful to know there are families in the neighborhood who can’t even afford a box of milk.”

The story becomes even more colorful when volunteers bring special activities: last week, there was a movie screening. The mothers at the dining hall say these activities keep children away from the dangers lurking in neighborhoods like this. “Here, you can eat and bathe if you’re homeless. Hordalina doesn’t discriminate by age when giving food to people. It’s heartbreaking to see young people and the elderly in such situations,” Ester says, adding, “We offer very important support.” In Bairro Esperança, mothers work all day, leaving children on their own. The children share their struggles: “Today I couldn’t go to school because I don’t have shoes.” Immediately, the women mobilize to help.

Now they are learning to make natural soap. “A mother can make soap at home with simple products. After experiencing gender violence, it’s essential to remind these women that they can do many things to help themselves,” Ester explains.

Letters to Santa Claus

Chicken, sweet pies, and cakes for Children’s Day. For Mother’s Day, pasta stew with rice or beans, sautéed onions, cooked meat, potatoes, and an unwavering desire to give love make up the menu. “The kids come excited, saying, ‘Auntie, will you make the milk? Will you cook today, Auntie?’ It’s heartbreaking when we don’t have anything…” Hordalina shares her disability pension to support this project, which also depends on donations and neighborhood efforts, like raffles or small events.

They also plan activities like movie screenings, games, workshops, and patriotic celebrations. And that’s not all: Hordalina, “Auntie Dali,” highlights their collective desire to start new initiatives, such as sports (their playing field is surrounded by trees), sewing classes, or other trades for women in the community. They also dream of improving the structure they’ve built to assist victims of gender violence.

In a place where the blue sky seems to have leaped from the Argentine flag, the mujeres valientes of the community snack program are gathering toys, panettone, and sweets to ensure a special Christmas for the neighborhood children. “We decorate the entire dining hall and set up two trees: one with gifts and another with the children’s letters to Santa Claus. Once, a boy got a bicycle, and everyone celebrated; in the end, it became the neighborhood kids’ bike,” Dali says with a laugh.

They also hope to offer cakes and distribute bags with sweets or peanut nougats and are awaiting donations of rice, canned tuna, and other items for a basic basket. Dali also prays for a fan to cool everyone during the northern summer heat. Her children help her but ask her to rest a little. She’s resolute: “I love doing this. It makes me feel alive, and so do my companions.”

To contact the community dining and snack program, visit their Facebook page.