On August 10, a magnitude 7.4 earthquake struck western Colombia. The epicenter was in Chocó, in the Litoral del San Juan, on the Pacific coast.

That is where the werregue palm grows, and it is where the Wounaan women who make the baskets I sell have lived for generations.

I run a small business selling their work. For several years I have traveled to Colombia to buy directly from these weavers. I have met them in person. This is not a cause I found. These are people I know by name.

What I know

Communities up and down the San Juan river were damaged. I am in direct contact with two of them, and I am going to tell you exactly what I know about each and how I know it.

Resguardo Indígena de Papayo. Crucelina Chocho Opua recorded a message describing dozens of houses destroyed with no roofs left intact, around 45 households in emergency condition, and roughly 40 people sleeping in other people's homes. The water tanks and rainwater collection are broken. Her own house is damaged at the base and the posts.

They cannot simply re-roof with cheap metal sheeting, because they drink the rain that runs off their roofs. The material they need does not rust. It is the most expensive thing on their list and it is the one thing nobody there can afford.

The resguardo has issued an official request document under its own registration, listing what they need: food, roofing, tools, hygiene supplies, and support for children and elders.

Resguardo Wounaan Unión Balsalito. Their Mayora, Yenny Cárdenas Mepaquito, reports damage to houses and to the school, cracked ground, broken water tanks, destroyed crops, and flooding when the rain came last week. She has sent photographs and video.

What this fund is, and what it is not

I am not an aid organization. I have no capacity to survey a river and decide where need is greatest. There are almost certainly communities on the San Juan that were hit harder than the two I know, and that I have no way to reach.

What I have is a direct line, built over years, to specific people who asked me for help. That is all I am offering, and it is worth being clear about it.

Where your money goes

Every dollar goes to these communities. Not to an organization, not to overhead, not to me.

I send funds directly to coordinators the communities themselves designated. They buy locally in Colombia, which is cheaper and faster than shipping anything from here, and they carry it upriver.

I ask for receipts and photographs of everything that gets bought, and I will publish whatever comes back to me, along with honest updates when it does not.

I have already sent my own money to Papayo and the coordinator confirmed it arrived.

Priorities, in order:

Please read this part

I chose to do it this way because these are remote river communities that large organizations reach late or not at all, and because I can put money into the hands of people I have known for years within a day.

This is a personal fundraiser, not a registered charity, so donations are not tax deductible.

If you would rather give to a vetted organization and receive a tax receipt, I understand completely, and I will gladly point you to one.

Why me

In January 2024 a two-hundred-foot tall tree came through the middle of our house in Portland during a storm. We had gone sledding. We came back to find it had collapsed each floor into the one below and broken the foundation. We never went home again.

I am not going to tell you that makes me understand what happened in Chocó. We had insurance. We had hotels, then rentals, then two years of negotiating a claim. It was the worst stretch of our lives and we were never once without a roof.

There is no adjuster in Papayo. There is no claim to file. There is only whether someone buys the material.

Thank you for reading this far.

Jen Kuyper

RFB Woven Art, Placitas, New Mexico