“每個孩子一臺手提電腦”(One Laptop per Child,簡稱OLPC)是個旨在通過提供廉價筆記本電腦,幫助發展中國家兒童享受信息化時代教育的慈善計劃。在秘魯,超過48萬臺手提電腦正被送往世界最窮困的地方,為部分全球受教育水平最低的孩子帶來全新的學習體驗。
A fleeting roadside scene in 1)Lima, Peru, sticks in my mind. A very little girl, perhaps four, stood on a narrow 2)traffic island 3)bisecting a 4)congested 5)thoroughfare amid choking dust, 6)soot, and fumes. With the girl was a woman I took to be her mother. The mother, a street peddler, was unpacking a 7)crate full of something. Around them roared 1970s-era buses and 8)battered
vehicles, passing below concrete habitations creeping up dismal, 9)denuded hillsides in one of the city’s vast 10)slums. The child was energetically 11)scooping up plastic bags for her mother, her shaggy brown hair flopping forward.
I thought of her as I passed through steel gates manned by armed guards at Peru’s Ministry of
Education to talk to Oscar Becerra, General Director for Educational Technologies. Peru is 12)poised to deliver 486,500 laptops to its poorest children under the One Laptop per Child program. It is the largest such OLPC purchase in the world. I asked Becerra whether children in Lima’s slums would receive the green-and-white machines. “No,” he said. “They are not poor enough.” At first I thought he was making a hard-hearted joke. But he went on to explain that Lima residents generally have electricity and (in theory) access to city services, even Internet cafés. The laptops are headed to 9,000 tiny schools in remote regions in the 13)Andes, an arduous 12-hour bus ride over rocky roads southeast of Lima, and villages in the Amazon region, days away. By the standards of children in those areas, the girl on the traffic island enjoyed enviable opportunity.
What Becerra told me 14)drove home the true scope of what OLPC is trying to do in a country that, according to a survey by the 15)World Economic Forum, ranks 130th out of 131 countries in math and science education, and 131st in the quality of its primary schools. “There is a long-term social 16)cleavage in Peru,” says Henry Dietz, a political scientist and expert on Peru at 17)the University of Texas at Austin, describing the country’s income inequality and rural poverty. “You get out of those provincial capitals, a half-hour in any direction, and you are in rural Peru, and things are pretty primitive. Electricity is a ‘sometimes’ thing.”
And they’re bringing with them a whole new 18)pedagogy. The computers come loaded with 115 books—literature such as classics, fables, novels and poetry. The laptops’ 19)flash drives also store introductions for teachers, reading-comprehension programs and other educational software, a word processor, art and music programs, and games, including chess and 20)Sudoku. The 21)rugged, low-power hardware includes a camera that can capture video or still images. The computers are Internet ready and can wirelessly relay data to one another.
These tools will land in the hands of first through sixth graders who in many cases never even had books—and whose teachers themselves had little education.
They will not come cheap; Peru is spending about $80 million on the laptops—nearly a third of the education budget normally available for 22)capital expenditures—plus about $2 million for teacher training. Becerra characterized the sum as a special 23)appropriation meant to bring schools up to date. “To distribute all these books would cost five times the cost of the machines,” he estimates. “We are reaching the poorest schools in Peru for the first time in history.”
When I visited Peru in mid-March, distribution of the laptops had not yet begun. But a clue to how the effort might 24)fare can be found in a Peruvian mountain-farming village where, last year, 25)prototypes were handed out to kids in a 26)trial run.
27)Arahuay is a poor village of 742 residents. But as Becerra explained later, it is also “not poor enough” to 28)warrant laptops under the national 29)rollout. Nevertheless, it was here that the Ministry of Education decided to test a 30)preproduction model of the OLPC machines. Arahuay is relatively handy to Lima (battered buses make two trips daily), and it has a pre-existing Internet connection.
The children were at their desks, 31)pecking away at their now-battered laptops. Kevin Gabino, 11, was following a teacher’s instructions to type a statement of the school’s 32)values into a text file—Be early to school—topped the list. Rosario Carrillo, 10, was performing a Google search for the school’s name, but the town’s Internet connection was so slow that the wait dragged into minutes. Rosario said she uses the laptop to play games, take pictures, draw, perform calculations, write documents, and send e-mails to her elder sister, who works in Lima.
Of course, the kids need to use computers for more standard educational pursuits as well. The school’s principal, Patricia Cornejo, said that assignments often require students to search the Web for basic information, such as facts about local flora and 33)fauna. “I am happy because I see how the children learn,” she said. “The communication between the students is better. They talk to each other about things they saw on the Internet.” Students are directed to educational Web pages; some other sites have been blocked by the ministry, Cornejo said. But one of the biggest benefits she sees is the possibility of access to instructional materials and digital books. “The people are very poor here and don’t have many books.” she added, “Not all kids can buy books.”
I asked nine-year-old Nilton whether he liked his laptop. “Sí!” he replied enthusiastically, as he 34)toted the computer home from school every weekend. It has no electricity, but the laptops can be 35)charged at school, and a charge lasts four to eight hours. Asked about his typical after-school routine, Nilton replied, “First I have lunch, then I change my clothes, then I play with my laptop.” The boy’s father, a 48-year-old who 36)tends a small farm of potatoes and corn, watched with pride. “He knows how to use the computer—he knows how to use every part of it. Above all, it is more knowledge for him.”
I asked Becerra what Peru wanted for children like Nilton. “Our hope for him is that he will have hope,” he said. “So we are giving them the chance to look for a different future—or the same, but by choice, not by force. These children who didn’t have any expectation about life, other than to become farmers, now can think about being engineers, designing computers, being teachers—as any other child should, worldwide.”
If Peru’s effort succeeds, it will become a model for other nations. Peru now has a chance to help Rosario, Nilton, and 486,498 other kids—and, maybe, someday, the little girl on the traffic island in Lima.



在秘魯首都利馬,一閃而過的街頭場景卻一直縈繞在我心頭。那是一個很小的女孩,可能4歲左右,馬路上塞滿了車,她就站在路中間那狹窄的安全島上,被嗆人的塵灰廢氣所包圍。女孩的身邊有一個女人,我想是她媽媽。那位媽媽是個街頭小販,正在打開一個裝滿東西的柳條筐。上個世紀70年代制造的大巴和其他破舊的車輛在她們周圍呼嘯而過,路兩旁荒涼而光禿禿的山坡上遍布水泥樓房,那是利馬最大的貧民窟。女孩起勁地彎身幫媽媽掏出塑料袋,她那蓬松的棕發猛地滑向前方。
還在想著這個小女孩,我的車已經穿過了一道有持槍保安把守的大鐵門,這里是秘魯教育部,我要見的是奧斯卡#8226;貝斯拉先生,秘魯教育部負責教育技術的主管。秘魯教育部將展開名為“每個孩子一臺手提電腦”的計劃,準備把486500臺手提電腦送到秘魯最貧窮的孩子們手中。這是全球最大規模的OLPC計劃。我問貝斯拉,利馬貧民窟的孩子能否得到這么一臺綠白雙色的手提電腦,他回答說:“不行,他們還不夠窮。”聽到這話,一開始我以為他是在狠著心說笑,但是隨后他解釋說,生活在利馬的孩子通常還能享受到電力,而且(理論上)他們也能接觸到各種城市設施,甚至還有機會進網吧。……