NPR reported on Morning Edition's Changing Lives of Women Series, which explored the relationship between Latinas and their money; regarding purchasing, savings, and investing for themselves and their families.

Tandas were discussed; and for those who are unfamiliar, it is a resource that many Latinas consider when dealing with financial difficulty or when someone close is struggling financially. Tandas are a no-interest, short-term loan that's arranged among friends, and can be managed in a number of ways.

Normally, a group of well-acquainted individuals collect money on a weekly, monthly or yearly basis, and that money is used to assist one woman at a time, in regulated intervals.

Latino and Chicano populations have participated in communal "pots" for a long time, though the tradition lives mainly among Latino individuals living in the United States and Mexico -- the practice extremely common in the state of Oaxaca within Mexico. In other counties, tandas also go by different names. In Mexico, tandas are also call cudinas. While in West African and in the Carribean, they're susus; Brazilians call them pandeiros; and in Asia, they go by the name hui. And the traditions have been inherited; newer generations have modernized tanda-tactics with online platforms, such as eMoneyPool.com.

An example of a tanda involves five relatively close individuals who put forward $100 every two weeks to someone who's deemed the group's organizer. That person holds all of the money until the end of the month, which by the month's end is a cumulative $1,000. This practice will continue on for a number of months; each month someone takes home $1,000. Cumulatively, everyone gives $1,000.

Early acquisition of the $1,000 feels like a no-interest loan, while receiving the pot later in the cycle feels like a savings account. The benefits and functionality of tandas is real; it can mean that individuals will be able to quickly pay overdue notices; pay for expensive dental work; or address other pressing financial concerns.

Cuban-American Barb Mayo, who'd never heard of a tanda, propositioned her co-workers with the idea, and noticed that only Latinas were interested in the idea.

"It's funny because we work with white people, and one girl was like, 'All you're doing is giving money to other people and not collecting interest on it, and there's a risk!' " Mayo said. "But all of us didn't see it that way."

A risk does exist however, there's a chance that someone could collect first from the group to get the cash and never contribute again; the leader could skip town with the funds -- it has happened, but that's pretty rare, according to Carlos Vélez-Ibáñez, an anthropologist at Arizona State University who wrote a book about tandas.

"In the United States there is such emphasis given to individuality and individuation and individual success," he said. "The bottom line is trust. They can't believe people trust each other."

Mexican immigrants, according to Vélez-Ibáñez, maintain trust for survival. The communities of individuals with a diverse skill set, who represent a number of occupations, see social connections as vital, and it's particularly crucial to those who are undocumented or unable to speak English.

Because of these, Latinas see little risk involved, and frequently participate in "rotary savings."  

"When you participate in rotating savings and credit associations, everybody already knows your name, everyone already knows what your social collateral is and whether you're trustworthy or not," Vélez-Ibáñez said.

In many tandas, contributors offer their first and last names, their country of origin, and their reasons for coming to the United States -- such is the case at San Francisco's Mission District, where novice and veteran tanda participants arrived to use the tanda system. Nearly 70 percent of people who signed up with the tanda organized by the Mission Asset Fund were women.

California State Sen. Lou Correa once stated, when growing up in poor neighborhoods of central Orange County tandas were a popular alternative to payday lenders, which employ out-of-control interest rates. His experience led him to propose legislation that would exempt nonprofits from having to get a lender's license, stating that money wasn't being "lent," and regulators should back off.

"The lesson for me as the chair of the Banking and Finance Committee in the California State Senate is to open my eyes a little more and start looking in those areas that I think finance does not exist, because that is the place I may find more solutions to our problems," he said to NPR.

Correa and many others believe that lending circles can be responsible for supporting entrepreneurs and job-creators, and they are helpful to everyday people who look to their community for support, and want to give back.