I'm an immigrant from Venezuela,
and I've lived in the US for six years.
If you ask me about my life
as an expatriate,
I would say that I've been lucky.
But it hasn't been easy.
Growing up, I never thought
that I was going to leave my homeland.
I participated in my first
student protest in 2007,
when the president shut down
one of the most important news networks.
I was getting my bachelor's degree
in communications,
and that was the first time I realized
I couldn't take free speech for granted.
We knew things were getting bad,
but we never saw what was coming:
an economic crisis,
infrastructure breaking down,
citywide electrical blackouts,
the decline of public health care
and shortage of medicines,
disease outbreaks and starvation.
I moved to Canada with my husband in 2013,
and we always thought we'd move back home
when the crisis improved.
But we never did.
Nearly all my childhood friends
have left the country,
but my parents are still there.
There have been moments
where I've called my mom,
and I could hear people screaming
and crying in the background
as teargas bombs exploded in the streets.
And my mom, as if I couldn't
hear it, would always tell me,
(Speaking Spanish)
"We're fine, don't worry."
But of course, I worry.
It's my parents, and I'm 4,000 miles away.
Today, I'm just one of more than
four million Venezuelans
who have left their home country.
A lot of my friends
are Venezuelan immigrants,
and in the last few years,
we've begun talking about
how we could make a difference
when we live so far away.
That is how Code for Venezuela
was born in 2019.
It began with a hackathon,
because we are experts in tech,
and we thought we could use
our tech skills
to create solutions
for people on the ground.
But first, we needed to find some experts
actually living inside Venezuela
to guide us.
We'd see so many other hackathons
that came up with wily, ambitious,
incredible technological solutions
that sounded great in theory
but ultimately failed to work
in the actual countries
they were intended to help.
Many of us have been
living abroad for years,
and we are detached
from the day-to-day problems
that people are facing in Venezuela.
So we turned to the experts
actually living inside of the country.
For example, Julio Castro,
a doctor and one of the leaders
of Médicos por la Salud.
When the government stopped publishing
official health care data in 2015,
Dr. Julio began collecting
information himself,
using an informal but coordinated system
of cell phone communications.
They track available personnel,
medical supplies, mortality data,
disease outbreaks;
compile it into a report;
and then share that on Twitter.
He became our go-to expert
on health care in Venezuela.
Luis Carlos Díaz,
a widely recognized journalist
who reports acts of censorship
and human rights violations
suffered by the people of Venezuela,
he helps us make sense
of what is happening there,
since the news is controlled
by the government.
We call these people
our heroes on the ground.
With their expert advice,
we came up with a series of challenges
for hackathon participants.
In that first hackathon,
we had 300 participants
from seven countries
come up with 16 different
project submissions.
We picked the projects
with the most potential
and continued working on them
after the event.
Today, I'll share two of our most
successful projects
to give you a taste of the impact
we are having so far.
They're called MediTweet
and Blackout Tracker.
MediTweet is an intelligent Twitter bot
that helps Venezuelans
find the medicine they need.
Right now in Venezuela,
if you get sick and you go to a hospital,
there is a good chance they won't have
the right medical supplies to treat you.
The situation is so bad
that patients often get
a "shopping list" from the doctor
instead of a prescription.
I live the need for this firsthand.
My mom was diagnosed with cancer in 2015.
She needed to have a lumbar puncture
to get a final diagnosis
and treatment plan.
But the needle for this procedure
wasn't available.
I was in Venezuela at that time,
and I was seeing my mom
getting worse in front of me every day.
After looking everywhere,
we found the needle in a site
that is like the eBay of Latin America.
I met the seller in a local bakery,
and it was like buying
something on the black market.
My mom brought the needle to her doctor,
and he did the procedure.
Without this, she could have died.
But it's not just medical supplies,
it's medicines, too.
When she was first diagnosed,
we bought her treatment
in a state pharmacy,
and it was, like, practically free.
But then the state pharmacy ran out,
and we still had six months
of treatment ahead.
Six months of treatment ahead.
We bought some medicines online
and the rest in Mexico.
Now she's in her third year of remission,
and every time that I call,
she tells me, "I'm fine, don't worry."
But not everyone can afford
to leave the country,
and many aren't healthy enough to travel.
That is why people turn to Twitter,
buying and selling medicines
using the hashtag #ServicioPublico,
meaning "public service."
Our Twitter bot scans Twitter
for the hashtag #ServicioPublico
and connects users who are asking
for specific medicines
with those who are selling
their private leftovers.
We also pool the location data
of those Twitter users
and use it for a visualization tool.
It gives local organizations
like Médicos por la Salud
a sense of where they have a shortage.
We can also apply
machine learning algorithms
to detect clusters of disease.
If they've received humanitarian aid,
this could help them
to make better decisions
about the distributions of the supplies.
Our second project,
is called Blackout Tracker.
Venezuela is currently going through
an electricity crisis.
Last year, Venezuela suffered
what some people consider
the worst power failures
in Venezuelan history.
I had two long days without
communication with my parents.
Some cities experienced
blackouts every day.
But you only know about this
on social media.
The government won't report
blackouts on the news.
When the power goes out,
many Venezuelans, we quickly tweet out
the location with the hashtag #SinLuz,
meaning "without electricity,"
before their phones ran out of battery,
so people around the country
know what is happening.
Like MediTweet,
Blackout Tracker scans Twitter
for the hashtag #SinLuz
and creates a map using
the location data of those users.
You can quickly see
where the blackouts are happening today
and how many blackouts
have happened over time.
People want to know what is happening,
and this is our answer.
But it's also a way of holding
the government accountable.
It's easy for them to deny
that the problem exists
or make excuses,
because there is no official data on it.
Blackout Tracker shows how bad
the problem really is.
Now, some people in Silicon Valley
may look at these projects
and say that there are no major
technological innovations.
But that is the point.
These projects are not insanely advanced,
but it's what the people
of Venezuela need,
and they can have a tremendous impact.
Beyond these projects, perhaps
our most significant accomplishment
is that a movement has been created,
one where people around the world
are coming together
to use their professional skills to create
solutions for the people of Venezuela.
And because we are partnering with locals,
we are creating the solutions
that people want and need.
What is so great about this
is that we are using
our professional skills,
so it comes easily and naturally.
It's not that hard for us
to make a difference.
If someone from San Francisco
were to hire professionals
to create solutions
like MediTweet or Blackout Tracker,
it would cost a small fortune.
By donating our services,
we are making a bigger impact
than if we were just to donate money.
And you can do the same thing --
not in Venezuela, necessarily,
but in your own community.
In a world that is more
connected than ever,
we still see how specialized communities
can be living isolated or in silos.
There are so many great ways to help,
but I believe that you can use
your professional skills
to connect diverse communities
and create effective solutions
through those relationships.
Anyone with knowledge
and professional skills
has a powerful force
to bring hope to a community.
For us at Code for Venezuela,
this is just the beginning.
Thank you.
(Applause)