Working as a cook/domestic worker on a construction site, Doña Coco is the first to get up in the morning and the last to go to bed at night. Her monthly salary of C$2,000 Córdobas really just covers “el arroz y los frijoles” (“rice and beans”) for her family. So, how does she provide clothing and all the rest for her five kids? Leonido, the interviewer, asks the tough questions.

The effort to de-mine Central America is truly an international one, with assistance coming from the U.S., Germany, Spain, France, England, Japan, Canada and Sweden (who’s ambassador is featured here, speaking eloquent Spanish). Also we hear from soldiers on the pleasure of serving a mission of peace, as opposed to one of war.

Joan Planas continues to pull no punches, taking on NGOs, television, and the Catholic church. Oddly enough, despite his firebrand rhetoric, the film ends on a rather conservative note, suggesting that perhaps what poor nations need is not so much charity but rather a change in actitude, or “attitude,” so as to reflect the mindset of people in successful nations. Tune in to find out the details.

Not only does our filmmaker continue with his diatribe against the state of society as he finds it in Nicaragua, but the story takes an investigative turn. We find that not only doesn’t sponsored-child Christina del Carmen match the photo that had been supplied by Ayuda en Acción, she is also not yet enrolled in a school.

In this installment of the dispute documentary we hear Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata quoted over a protester’s loudspeaker. As Zapata said: “¡Victoria o muerte!” (“Victory or death!”). To protest the taking of their farmland, the people of Atenco are using stronger and stronger language. Listen in.

You know what a calavera is, no? If you see one, especially on a sign in a former war zone, be very, very careful. Soldiers from Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela and the U.S. came together to reduce the need for these signs in Central America… reclaiming fields filled with anti-personnel mines so that farmers can return to using them for crops.

Imagine the horror of stepping on a landmine while gardening. This is what happened to farmers José Moncada and Reinaldo Herrera. Through great courage they survive to testify of the enduring evils that are minas antipersonales.

Spain has never been a country afraid of divisive politics, and filmmaker Joan Planas has no fear of getting controversial when presenting his views of society, church and state. Note that the older gentleman is not speaking straight Spanish but Catalan, and the Spanish captions reflect not his exact words but are the same as the Spanish subtitles seen in white on the screen.

Something that induces lagrimas (tears) is said to be lacrimógeno. So if you were organizing a Festival de cine lacrimógeno, only tear-jerkers would fit the bill. If, on the other hand, you were organizing a protest of the forced seizure of your family’s farm, you might find yourself crying because of the gas lacrimógeno wafting through the air.

If you find it unusual that a farmer is comparing compensation for his land with the cost of presidential bath linens, you are clearly not aware of the toallagate scandal that rocked Vicente Fox’s administration and led to resignations at Los Pinos. We’re not sure what kind of towel US $400 buys, but it best be pretty darned afelpado is all we can say!

Can the forced displacement of families ever be justified? This is a question that knows no borders as governments seek out locations for new highways, hospitals, universities, and, especially, airports. The people of Atenco, Mexico, argue against plans to put one on their farmlands.

Evo Morales was a Bolivian congressman at the time of filming in 2004. At the time he was best known as an advocate and unofficial representative of traditional coca farmers, who are, for the most part, poor and marginalized. Today this indigenous politician and one-time farmer himself is best known for being president of Bolivia.

The inhabitants of the first village where special stoves were installed experienced a marked improvement in their respiratory health. Word quickly spread to a nearby community which then made the change over to the new technology. As the materials are inexpensive, it should not be difficult to get all of Peru to switch to the new stoves.

Daily exposure to wood smoke can really wreak havoc on the body. It affects the eyes, the skin, and, of course, the lungs. With small material investment, kitchen smoke is minimized through a cleverly designed, well-ventilated, stove.

Most people agree that there’s nothing quite like a tasty wood-fired grill, but because the traditional stove of the Peruvian highlands lacks adequate ventilation of the home and kitchen, serious health problems can arise. A team of researchers have identified this unique regional problem and worked with a clever team of engineers to design an affordable and elegant safer alternative that will be accepted and used by the local people.