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Luz Mari and I sat in the back of the truck for the first two of the five hour drive from Quito to San Lorenzo, a small city near Ecuador’s coast that is home to an ever increasing number of Colombians seeking refuge. We were returning from the 4th World Social Forum on Migrations that was held in Quito from October 8-12.

We had a good time in the back of that truck. It was sunny as we wound around the mountains, the farms, the small houses, and the cows that often wandered into the road. Of course, as anyone who has ever been on a road trip in Latin America knows, there were some close calls. But Luz Mari would just laugh when I grabbed the side of the truck.

"El gringo se asustó,” she would yell to the passengers up front.  “The gringo got scared.”

Luz Mari didn’t seem affected at all by the curves, the sudden stops, or the ill-advised attempts to pass fellow motorists. It makes sense that she wouldn’t be.  

Seven years ago, she fled threats and public executions in her home town and came to San Lorenzo. Like many who flee Colombia’s Pacific Coast province of Narino, Luz Mari had family members in San Lorenzo who took her in.  

While in Colombia, Luz Mari was forced to harvest coca for illegal armed groups. She explained that her brother had been kidnapped and similarly forced to work in the coca fields. No wonder a few tight turns on a curvy road didn’t scare her.

Indeed, she was quite calm as she told the story of her arrival in San Lorenzo.

“I got here and stayed with my aunt, but after a while, I had to take my daughters somewhere else. There just wasn’t enough room.”

Finding an adequate and affordable place to stay is one of the biggest challenges refugees face when they arrive in Ecuador.  

Alicia, another refugee, fled to San Lorenzo five months ago. She said that the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) gave her housing for three months, as well as bedding and a small oven. But the support quickly dried up, and now she struggles to take care of her kids. She currently makes about $3 a day selling fried fish on the street.

“The problem is that we are so many. HIAS helped, but they need to help hundreds of others. Now I need a real job so I can pay for my child’s school materials and, as always, pay the rent,” Alicia said.

Economic integration is the central problem for Colombian refugees in San Lorenzo. There are simply too few jobs.

But just as Luz Mari took on the nerve-racking curves of those mountainside roads out of Quito, she is taking on the challenges of unemployment in San Lorenzo.

She has started a textile company that makes uniforms for school children and sports teams. With the support of the Jesuit Refugee Service, Luz Mari got a loan that bought her a dozen sewing machines. She also acquired a screening machine for printing names and numbers on sports jerseys.

“All we need is access to a bigger market. San Lorenzo is small, but even so, it’s working. I know this is going to work. You watch, we already have six employees, but with more support we could really grow.”

These are just the types of projects the international community should support. Weak local economies and lack of jobs create many problems for refugee integration. Students can’t study because their parents can’t afford uniforms or supplies. People can’t afford the medicines they are prescribed. And young adults can’t find employment which can lead towards crime and a greater temptation to join illegal armed groups.

Of course, making a noticeable impact on an economy is challenging, but by supporting programs that offer technical training for income generating activities or by empowering communities through micro-loans, positive steps can be made.

The international community should follow Luz Mari’s example and work to improve the economic conditions of refugee host communities like San Lorenzo. So when it comes to economic solidarity with refugees, no one should be able to say that the gringos got scared just because the road was rough.

 This piece was written by Drew Hendrickson, a consultant for Refugees International.