Ivana

The past few days home life has been dominated by this story (for lack of a better word), that I want to share with you.

Today we (ie., my sister as bakery owner) had to declare Ivana as having abandoned her job as cook at the bakery because she did not show up for two consecutive days for work. On Friday Ivana was set to move, from the apartment she shared with her three children and husband, to a little house for her and the children. She was leaving her husband, though he had actually left her: some weeks ago, he boarded a bus for Ecuador, using a ticket another woman had bought him. Once in Ecuador, he was robbed of everything, and the woman he had gone to visit denounced him to the Ecuadorian police because he owed her money. She then called Ivana to ask for money in order to release her husband. Ivana and her parents-in-law (ie., the disgraced husband's mother and father) refused to pay for his release, giving up on him after years of drug and alcohol abuse; years in which he never held a steady job, betrayed everyone around him in different ways, and relied on theft and his wife for money. This man is the father of two of Ivana's chidren. The oldest she had at age 16, with another man. Today she is 27.
Ivana is from Salta, Argentina, and came to Chile following the father of the oldest child, until he left her. She then migrated from the Chilean countryside to the southern outskirts of Santiago, where the poor who can not afford housing live. She had been working with us for one year; she was a good worker, responsible, nice and charming. Despite everything she was doing well. Her mistake was this man, whom she was still willing to help: after refusing to send the Ecuadorian woman money, she sent him a bus ticket to return to Santiago. He refused to come back. Who knows what happened, but on Friday, before she could move house, her aunt and uncle came from Argentina to take her and the children back to Salta, with her mother.
We know all this because two other employees went to look for Ivana at her house; they talked to the neighbor, and then found the parents-in-law. Otherwise, we could equally well think Ivana had been kidnapped, killed, run away or sick in hospital. We will probably never hear from her again, even though we (my sister) like her a lot, did a lot to help her, and wanted to continue helping her. Instead, we have to scramble to re-arrange everyone's work hours, cover extra shifts and begin a new hiring process. And so everyone's frustration grows. The only comfort is to think that Ivana and her children will be better off back home, and that she has a family that cares about her.

Of 18 women between 17 and 34 that work in our bakery, 8 have children. Of these, only three are still with the father of their children (including my sister in law). One had her child one month ago and is likely to break up with the father by the end of the year.