By Humberto Márquez
CARACAS, Jul 20 2004 (IPS)

Late one night in January 2003, pistol in hand, Derwin ‘Lion Face’ and ‘Fattie’ José Gregorio stole a watchman’s gun and radio equipment at Ron Santa Teresa, a leading rum maker in Venezuela, and disappeared down the narrow passageways of a nearby slum neighbourhood.

Late one night in January 2003, pistol in hand, Derwin ‘Lion Face’ and ‘Fattie’ José Gregorio stole a watchman’s gun and radio equipment at Ron Santa Teresa, the leading rum maker in central Venezuela, and disappeared down the narrow passageways of a nearby slum neighbourhood.

Today Derwin, 23, oversees apprentices who are building a community centre and bricklaying school in the municipality of El Consejo, population 40,000, located in the valley of Aragua, 80 km from the capital.

El Consejo is near Ron Santa Teresa, one of Venezuela’s most famous rum refineries, an over 100-year-old family business whose hacienda or estate has evolved into a modern agribusiness complex.

”Without this opportunity, I would still be carrying a gun and would perhaps be dead or in prison,” Derwin told IPS.

”I never used to go out with my wife or children,” said José Gregorio, a burly young man who has proven to be a superb rugby player. ”Now I take them to the park and nearby cities like La Victoria, and I live a more tranquil life.”

What brought about the huge change in the lives of Lion Face and Fattie?

Alberto Vollmer, executive president of Ron Santa Teresa, told IPS that on that night in January 2003, ”the company’s security guards set out after the thieves, found them, and took them to the police.”

But outside the police station, Vollmer, a 35-year-old civil engineer who is the great-great-grandson of Santa Teresa’s founder, listened to the young delinquents as they talked about what they feared most: months behind bars in the violent prison of Tocorón.

So he came up with a plan and offered them a deal: the company would not press charges if they would work on the hacienda for three months, receiving only their meals as payment.

Working in the sugar cane fields, ”it occurred to us that other members of our gang might also want the same opportunity, and we talked to them,” said Derwin.

A few days later, Derwin asked Vollmer if he would meet with four or five of his friends.

”When we got to the meeting-place under a tree, there were 22 young guys there – the whole La Placita gang,” recalls Vollmer. ”So the improvised solution for an assault case ended up evolving into a programme, and Project Alcatraz was born.”

One of Santa Teresa’s constant concerns was that ”we had security on the hacienda, but not in the surrounding slums of El Consejo.”

But ”suddenly, without firing a single shot, we had reduced the number of potential adversaries by 22,” said the businessman.

The former juvenile delinquents participating in Project Alcatraz work without pay for three months while receiving vocational training, attending courses on social values, and taking part in sports teams, namely rugby.

”It’s a contact sport, based on confrontation and strength, which drains the players’ energy and foments a sense of belonging and solidarity as a team,” said Vollmer.

Carlos Tovar, one of the participants, commented to IPS that in the middle of the first course, ”we realised it was good, but that it wouldn’t work, because the members of one gang were working on the hacienda, but outside there were several other gangs. So we decided to go and talk to them.”

Through their efforts, they drew in young toughs from nearby slum neighbourhoods like El Cementerio and El Dispensario, and the number of participants expanded to a total of 75.

However, several dropped out, ”because anyone who slips up and commits a crime is kicked out,” said Tovar.

A total of 62 youngsters graduated from the first three-month courses, and 54 remain in the project, working in the mornings – they now earn the minimum wage of 150 dollars a month – studying in the afternoons, and playing rugby in the evenings.

”Me and these guys over here,” said Derwin pointing to a couple of young men standing nearby, ”used to be members of rival gangs hunting each other down to kill each other. Now we’re on the same team on the sports field.”

Local authorities have been compliant, leaving aside their initial requirement of a list of the full names of each of the programme’s recruits. ”We join the project using just our nicknames” or first names, said Derwin.

Judicial police commissioner Sergio Castillo said ”the number of crimes has been reduced by 35 percent in the municipality,” where 18 homicides and 53 armed robberies were committed last year.

”But there are still a lot of people who shut themselves up in their homes at night, and some are afraid that the ‘Alcatraz’ kids are still stealing,” he added.

Local residents sometimes ”ask why we give jobs to the most ‘damaged’ members of the community,” said Vollmer. ”Well, it’s because no one else would give them a chance.”

Colombian President Alvaro Uribe promoted a meeting in which his associates and members of that neighbouring country’s business community met with Vollmer in Bogotá, to learn from the Venezuelan businessman’s experience and apply those lessons to plans for the social reinsertion of right-wing paramilitary fighters who have agreed to lay down their arms in exchange for an amnesty-like peace deal.

”Vollmer said those who wish to reinsert themselves into society should be able to continue to feel that they belong to a group,” Colombian Ambassador to Venezuela María Angela Holguín, who is enthusiastic about the project, told journalists.

Youngsters participating in Project Alcatraz are now helping restore an old house in El Consejo to turn it into a community centre and school where local residents can learn bricklaying skills.

The plan is to begin applying such skills to repairs of the most run-down and precarious homes in the shanty-towns near the hacienda.

Vollmer said Ron Santa Teresa ”assigns two percent of its profits to the programme,” although he did not reveal the exact amount.

Other organisations provide human and material resources, including Venezuela’s public Central University, the Construction Industry Chamber, and the Andean Development Corporation – the financial arm of the Andean Community trade bloc, of which Venezuela forms part.

Asked why the programme was named after Alcatraz, Vollmer said the name of the legendary former maximum security prison on an island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay was chosen ”because the real prison is perhaps one’s own mind, and the only way to escape is if you receive an opportunity to better yourself.”

Excerpt:

By Humberto Márquez
CARACAS, Jul 20 2004 (IPS)

Late one night in January 2003, pistol in hand, Derwin ‘Lion Face’ and ‘Fattie’ José Gregorio stole a watchman’s gun and radio equipment at Ron Santa Teresa, the leading rum maker in central Venezuela, and disappeared down the narrow passageways of a nearby slum neighbourhood.

Today Derwin, 23, oversees apprentices who are building a community centre and bricklaying school in the municipality of El Consejo, population 40,000, located in the valley of Aragua, 80 km from the capital.

El Consejo is near Ron Santa Teresa, one of Venezuela’s most famous rum refineries, an over 100-year-old family business whose hacienda or estate has evolved into a modern agribusiness complex.

”Without this opportunity, I would still be carrying a gun and would perhaps be dead or in prison,” Derwin told IPS.

”I never used to go out with my wife or children,” said José Gregorio, a burly young man who has proven to be a superb rugby player. ”Now I take them to the park and nearby cities like La Victoria, and I live a more tranquil life.”

What brought about the huge change in the lives of Lion Face and Fattie?

Alberto Vollmer, executive president of Ron Santa Teresa, told IPS that on that night in January 2003, ”the company’s security guards set out after the thieves, found them, and took them to the police.”

But outside the police station, Vollmer, a 35-year-old civil engineer who is the great-great-grandson of Santa Teresa’s founder, listened to the young delinquents as they talked about what they feared most: months behind bars in the violent prison of Tocorón.

So he came up with a plan and offered them a deal: the company would not press charges if they would work on the hacienda for three months, receiving only their meals as payment.

Working in the sugar cane fields, ”it occurred to us that other members of our gang might also want the same opportunity, and we talked to them,” said Derwin.

A few days later, Derwin asked Vollmer if he would meet with four or five of his friends.

”When we got to the meeting-place under a tree, there were 22 young guys there – the whole La Placita gang,” recalls Vollmer. ”So the improvised solution for an assault case ended up evolving into a programme, and Project Alcatraz was born.”

One of Santa Teresa’s constant concerns was that ”we had security on the hacienda, but not in the surrounding slums of El Consejo.”

But ”suddenly, without firing a single shot, we had reduced the number of potential adversaries by 22,” said the businessman.

The former juvenile delinquents participating in Project Alcatraz work without pay for three months while receiving vocational training, attending courses on social values, and taking part in sports teams, namely rugby.

”It’s a contact sport, based on confrontation and strength, which drains the players’ energy and foments a sense of belonging and solidarity as a team,” said Vollmer.

Carlos Tovar, one of the participants, commented to IPS that in the middle of the first course, ”we realised it was good, but that it wouldn’t work, because the members of one gang were working on the hacienda, but outside there were several other gangs. So we decided to go and talk to them.”

Through their efforts, they drew in young toughs from nearby slum neighbourhoods like El Cementerio and El Dispensario, and the number of participants expanded to a total of 75.

However, several dropped out, ”because anyone who slips up and commits a crime is kicked out,” said Tovar.

A total of 62 youngsters graduated from the first three-month courses, and 54 remain in the project, working in the mornings – they now earn the minimum wage of 150 dollars a month – studying in the afternoons, and playing rugby in the evenings.

”Me and these guys over here,” said Derwin pointing to a couple of young men standing nearby, ”used to be members of rival gangs hunting each other down to kill each other. Now we’re on the same team on the sports field.”

Local authorities have been compliant, leaving aside their initial requirement of a list of the full names of each of the programme’s recruits. ”We join the project using just our nicknames” or first names, said Derwin.

Judicial police commissioner Sergio Castillo said ”the number of crimes has been reduced by 35 percent in the municipality,” where 18 homicides and 53 armed robberies were committed last year.

”But there are still a lot of people who shut themselves up in their homes at night, and some are afraid that the ‘Alcatraz’ kids are still stealing,” he added.

Local residents sometimes ”ask why we give jobs to the most ‘damaged’ members of the community,” said Vollmer. ”Well, it’s because no one else would give them a chance.”

Colombian President Alvaro Uribe promoted a meeting in which his associates and members of that neighbouring country’s business community met with Vollmer in Bogotá, to learn from the Venezuelan businessman’s experience and apply those lessons to plans for the social reinsertion of right-wing paramilitary fighters who have agreed to lay down their arms in exchange for an amnesty-like peace deal.

”Vollmer said those who wish to reinsert themselves into society should be able to continue to feel that they belong to a group,” Colombian Ambassador to Venezuela María Angela Holguín, who is enthusiastic about the project, told journalists.

Youngsters participating in Project Alcatraz are now helping restore an old house in El Consejo to turn it into a community centre and school where local residents can learn bricklaying skills.

The plan is to begin applying such skills to repairs of the most run-down and precarious homes in the shanty-towns near the hacienda.

Vollmer said Ron Santa Teresa ”assigns two percent of its profits to the programme,” although he did not reveal the exact amount.

Other organisations provide human and material resources, including Venezuela’s public Central University, the Construction Industry Chamber, and the Andean Development Corporation – the financial arm of the Andean Community trade bloc, of which Venezuela forms part.

Asked why the programme was named after Alcatraz, Vollmer said the name of the legendary former maximum security prison on an island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay was chosen ”because the real prison is perhaps one’s own mind, and the only way to escape is if you receive an opportunity to better yourself.”

Excerpt: