Of all the unique satisfactions of being an international accompanier, one of the greatest pleasures is visiting the Peace Community members in their homes. These visits provide not only a source of enjoyment and connectedness, but also an opportunity for deeper understanding into the reality of day to day survival within this admirable struggle for peaceful living. Whether seeking a snack of arepas or a friendly conversation, walking into a home here may also open the door to witnessing firsthand the tangible effects of the armed conflict that continues to surround and invade the lives of these peasant farmers (campesinos).
On the evening of November 8th as I went to visit my friend and neighbor in the Peace Community, I found myself staring into the faces of the latest victims of the war in this region. Having walked all day from their homes in the settlement of La Esperanza to come to where we live in La Unión, this family of four had just been displaced from their land earlier that day, bringing with them only what they could carry on their backs. As they wearily ate their dinner, they shared with me their story of how the events of the past few days had unfolded, having been forced from their homes to flee for their lives. And this was only the beginning.
In thinking about the significance of the Peace Community, one will remember this collection of campesinos without whom this community would not have been created or could persist in the face of countless losses and endless threats; or one may also recognize their values of non-violence, neutrality and dignity upon which the community has established itself as apart from the rest. However, one cannot help but acknowledge and admire the undeniable importance of these fertile lands in the mountains of Urabá on which these farmers have survived and continue to cultivate their lives, despite the armed actors, including the Colombian military, the guerilla and the paramilitaries, who all desire and even combat to take over this space of the Peace Community.
And thus amidst this territorial struggle, the community was born. The Peace Community began when hundreds of campesinos were forced from their lands almost twelve years ago by the armed conflict overrunning their homes and the paramilitaries terrorizing their lives. Although distressed and displaced, a group of these farmers would not accept this unwarranted takeover of their fields. Founding and organizing the Peace Community, many farmers therefore started to return to their homes in the conflict-ridden mountainsides. Not only were these returns a display of their courage and strength, but was also a statement of their collective will to live peacefully and neutrally in their land, which they had cultivated for decades.
Yet to this day, these Peace Community members are still being threatened by the paramilitaries in the lands to which these campesinos have reclaimed as their homes. Over the last few years and even as recently as this past February, FOR has accompanied the members as they have officially returned to three settlements of the community. However, just this past month has the Peace Community once again experienced the devastating effects of the conflict in and around their homes, as a number of farmers in La Esperanza have been displaced from their homes. However, the Peace Community refuses to neither surrender their land nor let these violations go unaddressed; the community has already publically denounced these recent injustices and declared its unwavering position of non-violent resistance to this illegal armed group.
On November 7th, a large group of armed and identified paramilitaries entered into the settlement of La Esperanza, which is also home to members of the Peace Community. Because it is well-known in the region that the neighboring settlement to La Esperanza is controlled by these paramilitaries, the community acknowledged this invasion as an attempt to spread their authority into this territory. With guns and verbal abuse, this illegal armed group threatened some of these campesinos, saying that they were going to be killed unless they displaced from their homes. Because of this encounter, five families immediately displaced from this settlement, which in turn increased the level of risk of displacement for those campesinos that remained, including the families of the Peace Community. When gunshots were heard on the following day, even more families from La Esperanza displaced from their homes for fear of finding themselves yet again amidst the presence of these nearby paramilitaries, and thus of continued threats on their lives.
Therefore on November 17th, a group of leaders of the Peace Community with the international accompaniment of FOR went to La Esperanza, having heard that the only people that had stayed were the members of the community while all the other farmers had been displaced. In order to maintain a unified presence of the Peace Community in this settlement and increase security for these campesinos, the community leaders gathered and met with these remaining families. By encouraging these community members to stay on their lands and to work together, these campesinos would demonstrate their continued opposition to the armed conflict through their collective refusal to abandon their lands. Despite the paramilitary movements around the community settlement, these farmers believe that maintaining the presence of the Peace Community in La Esperanza is a form of peaceful resistance to the control of the armed groups. Recognizing that they themselves as the remaining few families in the settlement were the last obstacle to the armed groups taking complete control of this area, these Peace Community members agreed to stay in their homes.
These campesinos bravely and boldly decided not to relinquish their land for which they had already sacrificed so much to keep, including previous displacements, a number of assassinations and countless threats throughout the almost twelve years of the Peace Community's existence. With the political support and physical presence of FOR and other international organizations, these families of the community have overcome any fears in order to proceed with their work and lives in their own homes. Nonetheless, the reality of the threat of forced displacement and of the invasion of paramilitaries continues to exist in this region; however, as we have witnessed firsthand this past month, the strength and determinance of the Peace Community have also proven to unwieldingly persevere.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Life in el campo...
For almost four months now I have been working for the Fellowship of Reconciliation living here in rural Colombia with the Peace Community of San Jose de Apartado. Looking back on my time thus far, I am overwhelmed by the numerous encounters and adventures, relationships and lessons that have been dictating my experience here, that have been shaping my life. However, as I begin to piece together something linear, or even comprehensible, of this montage of events and feelings, I find it difficult to sum up in words this spattering of images and ideas, people and places that have been influencing me and now flood my mind. In short, there is no place in the world that can compare to living amidst the peasant farmers (campesinos) of a Peace Community in the middle of a conflict zone.
Here are some thoughts I had at the end of July after about two months of my time here in Colombia, followed by a more recent update of my life and work, which inevitably have been intertwined. I struggled in determining whether or not to share some of these earlier thoughts as I feel that my eyes have been opened more and more each day, and that it has taken some time to fully understand and evaluate what I have been experiencing here in the Peace Community. Nonetheless, coupled with my current understandings, I hope that these stories and reflections provide some insight into the life of an international accompanier in the Peace Community of San Jose de Apartado.
27 July 2008
I have realized that the longer that I am here, the more that I am losing all since of time. The days seem to all flow together and I can never keep track of the dates. My only useful tool of time keeping these days is the sun. And even then, I can be easily deceived by the clouds lingering for the next thunderstorm. However, in compensation for this fading sense of mine, somehow my sense of direction seems to slowly be improving. Learning to rely more on my instincts than ever before, I am beginning to trust myself and my orientation. Paths are becoming more familiar as are hills and fields. I even am distinguishing between new footprints and old ones, the outlines of different boots, and even the freshness of animal dung. My survival skills are developing each day as I discover what fruits, nuts and plants along the paths are safe to consume and which are best for alleviating all sorts of ailments. As I walk along the muddy, rocky paths, my feet seem to be more comfortable taking steps with less caution. I hardly even think now as I take my strides to dance along the tops of the rocks and avoid the hidden mud traps that before were prone to entrap me and my boots. The campesina in me is slowly developing day by day.
In my past two months here, I have become accustomed to the norms of communication in this village as per knowing the appropriate areas for discussion in order that I have begun developing meaningful relationships here. Not only is living in el campo simply another world than the modern urban lifestyle, but also living in the midst of war-torn peace community provides its own inevitable complications. From former family members to future family planning, these seemingly ordinary subjects of conversation at times become intensely invasive topics, as would be when inquiring about war casualties.
Besides the sensitivity of many average matters, one has to cultivate the ability to communicate a certain level of understanding when in reality it is truly impossible for any outsider to ever fully comprehend the realities of this community. In this struggle for empathy arises the invitation of trust that can be extended to some foreigners on an individual basis. Although FOR has developed a meaningful and working relationship with the community having been living here for the past six years, there nonetheless remain distinctions amongst the various teammates. As certain volunteers have formed deeper connections than others, each one endeavors personally to create strong bonds with members and leaders of the community, even with those who lack amiable relationships amongst themselves.
Noting these conditions, I have begun developing significant relationships within the community. My initial conversations about work and family have been leading me into deeper issues with certain individuals. While the line of trust continues to be a fragile one, I have been able to cross this delicacy slowly and intentionally. There is one young woman of the PC that lives in another village about two hours from mine. In our limited encounters, we have begun cultivating a true friendship for which I am very grateful. As her husband is in the official leadership council of the community, my friend cannot help but also be one of the informal leaders and therefore with an equally valuable perspective.
As our friendship has been developing, I had been eager to find an opportunity to begin asking some deeper questions about her life, her story and her insights. One night, I found myself in a more private conversation with my friend, and so we began talking more openly about the true situation here on the ground with the PC. We had just visited her family in their home a few days earlier as we were completing an accompaniment with a few community members involved in the project of organic production of the PC. But now the moment was different as we were sitting alone on a bench outside of one of the homes watching the evening rain, the conversation moved from comfortably casual to intimately personal. Maybe because of the time we had passed together in her home and the moments we had spent with her daughters and husband, she felt free to ask about my feelings about working with the community, as she was ready to express her own. Sharing with me her fears and concerns, she opened up to me about her past and current struggles as a community member, as well as the genuine belief she holds in their goals. I began to share with her about an experience we had had on the way back from visiting her home recently:
While we were making the rounds with the visitors for the organic project, we encountered some armed actors on one of the mountains. As we were climbing up one slope, four uniformed soldiers were trotting down with their guns slung across their shoulders. Although it is not uncommon to find military soldiers amidst the jungles of the countryside, these meetings are still not pleasant surprises. However this time was different. The manner in which they swiftly descended the mountainside, the small campesino-like physiques and appearances, and most distinctly, the lone female in the group all immediately revealed that these were not military soldiers we were facing, but rebel guerrillas. As this was my first and only occasion thus far to meet a member of the FARC in the zone, I watched the others and followed their cues, my heart beating excitedly in my chest. Without many words or exchanges, the first two males and then the female guerrilla passed alongside our group, but the fourth man stopped and waited for us to approach. For the next ten minutes, we listened to him speak about the political goals of the FARC and how he was struggling to achieve them. He not only offered his respect to the Peace Community for their political separation from the state, but also acknowledged the value of the international accompaniment. As we bade farewell and continued on our journey over the hill, I stopped and turned to watch them walk away. Replaying this rebel's discourse over and over in my mind, I kept evaluating what it was that finally motivated this campesino to take up a gun and join the FARC. What had the state done that had pushed him over the edge and compelled him to fight back with violence. From the stories I had heard from the Peace Community itself, I could only imagine that some in justice against this man would have been highly possible.
Although hesitant, I was not afraid to share this story with her, but rather I felt eased by the familiarity with which she seemed to receive my words. Even though that encounter with the guerrilla in the countryside had been quite unique for me, my friend of no more than thirty years had also had her own fair share of unlikely run-ins with the armed groups in the jungle. Out of a desire to comfort me or maybe from a need to share her own story and be comforted herself, my friend began recounting to me a day in her life that she will never forget, and one that I will now will always carry with me. As she spoke, the rain poured harder and harder, almost protecting our conversation and muffling our voices with the intensity of the sound of the water hitting the tin roofs. And she began. About five years, she had been out with her husband working on their farm in the afternoon while her mother and a neighbor were at home watching her youngest of three daughters. As was seemingly normal, some guerrilla soldiers passed by the home demanding food, water and basic supplies. Not too long after, the military also came by the home in pursuit of those very same guerrillas. Pressuring the mother and the neighbor to inform of the whereabouts of the rebels, the two campesinos refused to speak as is part of the Peace Community's principle of neutrality in which they do not pass information about the war from one armed group to another. The military soldiers were dissatisfied with this lack of responses and therefore started accusing these Peace Community members of being involved with the FARC. Out of fear and without thinking, the neighbor suddenly decided to flee from these interrogations and avoid further retribution. However, as the military started shooting at him as he was running away, they had not seen my friend's young daughter of only a few years who had innocently followed him in his attempted escape and had unknowingly put herself in the line of fire. The soldiers' shots in that moment that brought down the neighbor were also the very ones that took the life of my friend's little girl.
I could feel the tensity of her voice in the tightening of my skin as she spoke. Her head hit her hands as she could no longer hold back her tears, forcing her to pause for a moment. Overcome with sympathy, I reached out to my friend and held her as she continued her story as she cried. It was as if making herself retell and relive this painful memory yet one more time would help to remember and reclaim all that she had lost that day. The rain flowed heavily now with our tears as slowly yet steadily, she recounted the next steps. Having heard the gun shots, my friend ran the hour-long distance back to her home only to find her mother weeping alone in the home with blood on her clothes. Her young daughter and the neighbor were already being transported in hammocks to the nearest town to seek help, but the mother admitted how grave was the daughter's status. With patient determinedness, my friend completed her story through long breaths and silent tears, recalling how she had learned that her daughter had not survived the journey to town but had passed away soon after the shooting.
We sat in silence listening to the storm. My arm around my friend's shoulder, I was unsure of what to say or how to comfort her. All I knew in that moment is that my work with FOR had been permanently affected by that conversation, that my life had been forever changed by my friend. What is there to say to someone who has experienced such a terrible loss? How is one to comfort such a tragically stricken individual? And that is exactly why my friend is a part of this community, because almost every person in the Peace Community has a similar story of the loss of a loved one, of a threat on his or her own life and of a desire to seek peace amidst such horrific violence. Therefore, this is where the comfort lies: in the solidarity of the campesinos that seek peace and in the hope of a community that struggles for a future.
And this is exactly what makes the persistent existence of the Peace Community so incredible. The fact that these campesinos believe enough in the pursuits of peace and justice that they continue this pursuit with the memories of these atrocities and in the face of fear that more may be just around the corner each day.
And that is exactly what makes the work of FOR so worthwhile. That we uphold and respect the principles and values of the community so much that we are willing to come and live alongside of them. This is no ordinary human rights work that we are doing here in el campo; this is about literally standing up in the face of impunity with the community in order to prevent just one more death, one more atrocity, and one more displacement in the PC. While other international accompaniment groups in the zone operate from living outside of the community, FOR strives to retain the ability to remain an uninvolved observer while living in the midst of the community. Therefore we have the privilege of witnessing firsthand the realities of life within this community, within this war zone. Over the past eleven years of the lifespan of the PC, very few outsiders have had such the honor of observing and evaluating such insights. Analyzing security from the perspective of the public or from the views of the leaders allows for only a glimpse of the true situation that we see day to day with our own eyes from our home in the community and that we constantly hear from the farmers and from their children and grandparents that live as our neighbors. No news article nor censored conversation can compare with the depth of understanding that we gain from experiencing life amidst the conflict-affected campesinos.
However, the effectiveness of international accompaniment does rely on the credibility of the neutral observer. Therefore the concept of non-interference into the affairs of the community is crucial, despite how involved emotionally I may become. Even though I live within the community, I will never be able to become one of the community members. As real as my relationships become, I will also be set apart as outsiders because of the nature of my work. The very distinctions that set me apart from the community are the ones that make me most effective at my job. The nationality of my passport, the color of my skin and the language of my homeland - all these attributes that prevent me from fully integrating are the very tools that enable me to do this work.
In truth, there are constant concerns here in the community about yet another massacre attempting to destroy their lives; however, the reality is that this anxiety alone has the power to deteriorate life if one is not aware of and prepared for its presence. And it is in this conscientiousness that the community finds it greatest strength: unifying against all imminent threats from the surrounding forces that try to tear it apart. But here also lies the most vulnerable weakness, in that the community must rely on each individual to take an outward stance against the inevitable injustices by making such a strong commitment to the cultivation of peace. Because each member of the Peace Community must contribute to its endurance in order to maintain each one's own survival, the significance of each member is heightened. By intertwining various factors of loyalty and subsistence, ones life becomes just as dependent on the community as the community is dependent on the individuals. Therefore, the support must be mutual. If the community is not willing to reach out to the weaker members, then someone or something else will. And if this happens, then the results can be grave for everyone in the group.
This is precisely why the community will gather together in the face of their enemies at times in order to resist the outside forces that desire to penetrate into the community. A couple of months ago, the humanitarian aid extension of the state decided to come to LU to host a meeting in the village's school. This organization called Accion Social (AS) has begun working in the zone in order to demonstrate their support for this war torn region. However, the Peace Community is neither ignorant of the state's actual intentions to establish its presence within the community, nor is it willing to collaborate with the state which has been behind so many atrocities committed against the community. Therefore on this day of the proposed AS meeting, the community leaders called together their members for a sit-in at the school in order to prevent any official meeting of the state to take place. The community was infuriated that the state believed that it did not need permission to enter into the community when in reality the Inter-American Court as well as the Colombian Constitutional Court have both recognized that the rules and parameters of the Peace Community, including the right to deny access to the community by all actors in the conflict, must be respected by all entities, even the state itself. For about an hour, the community members were in a test of wills with the men from AS to see who would concede first. One community leader repeatedly told AS how the Peace Community, how these campesinos had been living and working in this area for eleven years and were by no means going to relinquish their space now or leave in the face of the state. Eventually, AS decided to pack up and leave the community, after which the community promptly put a lock on the door of the school building to prevent any further attempts of intruding. Whether it was the insistence of the community leader or the strength in numbers of the community members, the Peace Community was yet again able to peacefully hold its ground.
Despite these moments of seemingly minimal achievements, each community member is nevertheless at all times vulnerable to the temptations of those who would want to harm the community; therefore the community must look after their own. And these risks only become heightened when there is an absence of support. A sick man physically cannot work to feed his family of five kids and a pregnant wife, so therefore must look to other options to find that provision. Not only does everyone within the community know what is going on all the time amongst their neighbors, but also the hidden onlookers scattered throughout the hillsides are constantly aware of the status of the community, watching and waiting for possible openings for intrusion. A hopelessly poor campesino embodies the ideal target for a bribe in exchange for sending provisions to the rebels or for providing false testimony against the community to the state. These armed actors patiently await such golden opportunities when a community member may fall along the fringes, becoming inevitably susceptible to desperate measures.
Yet the Peace Community is altogether very familiar with these dynamics and is all too dependent on the value of the members to neglect to support fellow campesinos. It is this consistent outreach to each member that reinforces both the strength and the lifespan of the community.
26 September 2008
As my thoughts are constantly filled with the situation of the Colombian conflict, the physical security of these campesinos and the politic work of FOR, I look around and realize that while these community members themselves are likewise contemplating these same concerns, the Peace Community does not subsist solely focusing on their means for survival. Of course each individual carries the burden of supporting the family and of upholding the community's principles, yet the value of the lives of the campesinos does not rest merely in the fact that they have been able to overcome and to persist despite all odds and regardless of all those who may threaten their existence. Their true value and the deeper meaning of this Peace Community lies in the fact that these campesinos not only continue to struggle for peaceful neutrality within a war zone that does not allow for a lack of allegiance to one group, but also that they demand to live with both dignity and joy.
Although never forgetting from where they have come and always remembering what may lie ahead, these campesinos will not settle to survive with a paralyzing fear, but rather choose to live within a collection of unique and significant individuals that create a thriving and sustainable community. From educational opportunities to economic prospects and from soccer competitions to campo dances, all of these aspects of the community contribute to its effectiveness, in that the members can find success and development and even can discover joy and fulfillment. While always considering in the back of their minds the reality of imminent political and physical threats, these peace-seeking campesinos demonstrate the meaning of their community by the persistence of their struggle and the depth of their existence.
Through all of the unexpected, intense and eye-opening experiences that I have had, I believe that I have only come closer to understanding this intentional depth, as it is composed of endless contributions and expressions of the individuals of the Peace Community. Even though I already feel as if I have encountered head-on almost every significant aspect of life in the rural community, I am reminded each day that there is still so much to discover. From learning more about how to organically cultivate our own garden using cacao shells and chili powder, to how to carry wooden planks on top of my shoulders all the way down the mountain in order to prevent the bats from living in our roof, I feel a bit more at home down on the farm, however lacking in my machete-chopping skills I still may be. Climbing trees to pick ripe guavas without worms, crossing high waters in the river, buying eggs from my neighbors and burning our bathroom rubbish all feel fairly routine. Between the daily tasks of living, conversations with visitors and those that host me, and working in the office on analysis and documents, I keep busy with the seemingly consistent schedule of community life.
And as always, I am still making frequent trips around the zone and into town for accompaniments, visits and meetings that also keep me busy. A trip to town alone requires about one and half hours of hiking down to the first main town and then about another 45 minutes on the jeep into the city. It may seem like quite an adventure simply to go check your email, but I have now become very fond of the road up to our village, La Union, and very familiar with each river crossing and short cut along the way.
However, I never let myself get to jaded by the normalcy of a day or two, because each new day always promises something out of the ordinary. Whether it be unexpected and unwelcomed visitors into the community or an urgent trip to the town or another settlement, a random dance at night or a last minute invitation to a cacao cultivation, I wake each morning wondering what the day will bring. A few weeks ago now, I had such a day of weighty surprises.
As per usual, I woke up one morning and crawled out of my mosquito net. After about fifteen minutes of getting myself ready in our house, I skipped across the path over to the kitchen in our other house to make some tea and breakfast. Other than the fact that my colleagues had left earlier that morning to head down to town for the day, everything else that morning proceeded as normal. Singing to my music as I prepared some oatmeal, I was visited by one of my neighbors who often passes by in the mornings. However, this time was different. She first exchanged with me the typical initial greetings but there was a different tone in her voice that day. In few words and with little hesitation, she informed me that military soldiers were descending down from the hills into the community at the very moment. Somewhat shocked and fairly discombobulated, I flipped off the stove and ran over to our house to gather my things. Throwing on the brightest blue FOR t-shirt I could find, I grabbed a pen, paper and my phone and sprinted blatantly across the canyon over to the hill where I could see the soldiers passing alongside of a home of one of the community members.
As I traversed the shallow river, my blue shirt and white skin demanded the attention of the soldiers, who stopped to watch me. Almost all of them had already come down from the hillside and were already entering into the caserio (collection of homes) of the community. Continuing my climb over to the other side of the community to perch myself visibly on the hillside, I found the community member sitting outside of her home waiting as the soldiers finished passing by. As we watched the line of about 15-20 soldiers swiftly passing through the homes and continuing on down along the trail out of the village, I tossed my phone to my friend and asked her to help me find the spot of minimal cell phone reception in her home. Knowing I needed to make immediate contact with my other teammates, I had expected to be able to use my cell phone at this home, where often we have been able to find signal to make calls. As my friend struggled and failed to find the phone signal, which as always was not reliable, I once again jetted back to my house to grab our satellite phone to call my teammates in Bogota to notify them of the situation.
Yet I noticed something odd while running across the canyon and around the houses back to home. I finally realized that the strange ambiance that morning was reinforced by the absence of the normal morning bustle around the community. Generally in the mornings, the houses have their doors open, their stereos blasting and their inhabitants wondering about preparing to head out to the farms to work. However, this morning was starkly different. The doors were closed, the houses were silent and no one was moving around. Everyone had shut themselves securely inside their homes that morning, waiting nervously for the intruders to leave. Only after I had made the call to Bogota and began walking around to make my international presence visible in the community and to visit people did I start to see individuals slowly and hesitantly reemerging out of their homes. As I strolled from house to house, I could feel everyone's eyes following me. Confirming with people my concern about the situation as I had relayed the news to my teammates, I spoke with many community members who were perched on their porches, monitoring the hills and almost instinctively expecting something more. Scared and anxious, these campesinos were now on edge awaiting to know if more soldiers would appear from the mountain sides and invade their homes, as had happened in the past when the military was involved in the massacre of six Peace Community leaders in 2000.
Thankfully, this occasion was different. No more soldiers entered into the community that day. No one had been harmed by any of the intruders. And no threats had been directly spoken against any of the community members. But these factors alone did not appease the fears of the campesinos. The mere action of violating the Peace Community's principles by entering into the community was sufficient to demonstrate their vulnerability to penetration by outsiders and the freshness of their memories of past tragedies. These reactions are both constant reminders to the community that they never know what is going to happen, much less what can happen any day. For the first time with my work with FOR did I feel that I was actually doing my job: providing international accompaniment in the presence of armed actors in order to prevent injustices against the Peace Community. Nonetheless once again, no one knew what was going to happen, what could have happened that day.
The more time I spend in the Peace Community, the more these experiences allow me to delve more into my relationships here. Whether it be the amount of time or the actual experiences themselves that are bringing us closer, I feel drawn into a new level of trust and respect with the community members. Despite the circumstances that may be creating this deeper connection, I am grateful for the acceptance I am given from the campesinos.
Here are some thoughts I had at the end of July after about two months of my time here in Colombia, followed by a more recent update of my life and work, which inevitably have been intertwined. I struggled in determining whether or not to share some of these earlier thoughts as I feel that my eyes have been opened more and more each day, and that it has taken some time to fully understand and evaluate what I have been experiencing here in the Peace Community. Nonetheless, coupled with my current understandings, I hope that these stories and reflections provide some insight into the life of an international accompanier in the Peace Community of San Jose de Apartado.
27 July 2008
I have realized that the longer that I am here, the more that I am losing all since of time. The days seem to all flow together and I can never keep track of the dates. My only useful tool of time keeping these days is the sun. And even then, I can be easily deceived by the clouds lingering for the next thunderstorm. However, in compensation for this fading sense of mine, somehow my sense of direction seems to slowly be improving. Learning to rely more on my instincts than ever before, I am beginning to trust myself and my orientation. Paths are becoming more familiar as are hills and fields. I even am distinguishing between new footprints and old ones, the outlines of different boots, and even the freshness of animal dung. My survival skills are developing each day as I discover what fruits, nuts and plants along the paths are safe to consume and which are best for alleviating all sorts of ailments. As I walk along the muddy, rocky paths, my feet seem to be more comfortable taking steps with less caution. I hardly even think now as I take my strides to dance along the tops of the rocks and avoid the hidden mud traps that before were prone to entrap me and my boots. The campesina in me is slowly developing day by day.
In my past two months here, I have become accustomed to the norms of communication in this village as per knowing the appropriate areas for discussion in order that I have begun developing meaningful relationships here. Not only is living in el campo simply another world than the modern urban lifestyle, but also living in the midst of war-torn peace community provides its own inevitable complications. From former family members to future family planning, these seemingly ordinary subjects of conversation at times become intensely invasive topics, as would be when inquiring about war casualties.
Besides the sensitivity of many average matters, one has to cultivate the ability to communicate a certain level of understanding when in reality it is truly impossible for any outsider to ever fully comprehend the realities of this community. In this struggle for empathy arises the invitation of trust that can be extended to some foreigners on an individual basis. Although FOR has developed a meaningful and working relationship with the community having been living here for the past six years, there nonetheless remain distinctions amongst the various teammates. As certain volunteers have formed deeper connections than others, each one endeavors personally to create strong bonds with members and leaders of the community, even with those who lack amiable relationships amongst themselves.
Noting these conditions, I have begun developing significant relationships within the community. My initial conversations about work and family have been leading me into deeper issues with certain individuals. While the line of trust continues to be a fragile one, I have been able to cross this delicacy slowly and intentionally. There is one young woman of the PC that lives in another village about two hours from mine. In our limited encounters, we have begun cultivating a true friendship for which I am very grateful. As her husband is in the official leadership council of the community, my friend cannot help but also be one of the informal leaders and therefore with an equally valuable perspective.
As our friendship has been developing, I had been eager to find an opportunity to begin asking some deeper questions about her life, her story and her insights. One night, I found myself in a more private conversation with my friend, and so we began talking more openly about the true situation here on the ground with the PC. We had just visited her family in their home a few days earlier as we were completing an accompaniment with a few community members involved in the project of organic production of the PC. But now the moment was different as we were sitting alone on a bench outside of one of the homes watching the evening rain, the conversation moved from comfortably casual to intimately personal. Maybe because of the time we had passed together in her home and the moments we had spent with her daughters and husband, she felt free to ask about my feelings about working with the community, as she was ready to express her own. Sharing with me her fears and concerns, she opened up to me about her past and current struggles as a community member, as well as the genuine belief she holds in their goals. I began to share with her about an experience we had had on the way back from visiting her home recently:
While we were making the rounds with the visitors for the organic project, we encountered some armed actors on one of the mountains. As we were climbing up one slope, four uniformed soldiers were trotting down with their guns slung across their shoulders. Although it is not uncommon to find military soldiers amidst the jungles of the countryside, these meetings are still not pleasant surprises. However this time was different. The manner in which they swiftly descended the mountainside, the small campesino-like physiques and appearances, and most distinctly, the lone female in the group all immediately revealed that these were not military soldiers we were facing, but rebel guerrillas. As this was my first and only occasion thus far to meet a member of the FARC in the zone, I watched the others and followed their cues, my heart beating excitedly in my chest. Without many words or exchanges, the first two males and then the female guerrilla passed alongside our group, but the fourth man stopped and waited for us to approach. For the next ten minutes, we listened to him speak about the political goals of the FARC and how he was struggling to achieve them. He not only offered his respect to the Peace Community for their political separation from the state, but also acknowledged the value of the international accompaniment. As we bade farewell and continued on our journey over the hill, I stopped and turned to watch them walk away. Replaying this rebel's discourse over and over in my mind, I kept evaluating what it was that finally motivated this campesino to take up a gun and join the FARC. What had the state done that had pushed him over the edge and compelled him to fight back with violence. From the stories I had heard from the Peace Community itself, I could only imagine that some in justice against this man would have been highly possible.
Although hesitant, I was not afraid to share this story with her, but rather I felt eased by the familiarity with which she seemed to receive my words. Even though that encounter with the guerrilla in the countryside had been quite unique for me, my friend of no more than thirty years had also had her own fair share of unlikely run-ins with the armed groups in the jungle. Out of a desire to comfort me or maybe from a need to share her own story and be comforted herself, my friend began recounting to me a day in her life that she will never forget, and one that I will now will always carry with me. As she spoke, the rain poured harder and harder, almost protecting our conversation and muffling our voices with the intensity of the sound of the water hitting the tin roofs. And she began. About five years, she had been out with her husband working on their farm in the afternoon while her mother and a neighbor were at home watching her youngest of three daughters. As was seemingly normal, some guerrilla soldiers passed by the home demanding food, water and basic supplies. Not too long after, the military also came by the home in pursuit of those very same guerrillas. Pressuring the mother and the neighbor to inform of the whereabouts of the rebels, the two campesinos refused to speak as is part of the Peace Community's principle of neutrality in which they do not pass information about the war from one armed group to another. The military soldiers were dissatisfied with this lack of responses and therefore started accusing these Peace Community members of being involved with the FARC. Out of fear and without thinking, the neighbor suddenly decided to flee from these interrogations and avoid further retribution. However, as the military started shooting at him as he was running away, they had not seen my friend's young daughter of only a few years who had innocently followed him in his attempted escape and had unknowingly put herself in the line of fire. The soldiers' shots in that moment that brought down the neighbor were also the very ones that took the life of my friend's little girl.
I could feel the tensity of her voice in the tightening of my skin as she spoke. Her head hit her hands as she could no longer hold back her tears, forcing her to pause for a moment. Overcome with sympathy, I reached out to my friend and held her as she continued her story as she cried. It was as if making herself retell and relive this painful memory yet one more time would help to remember and reclaim all that she had lost that day. The rain flowed heavily now with our tears as slowly yet steadily, she recounted the next steps. Having heard the gun shots, my friend ran the hour-long distance back to her home only to find her mother weeping alone in the home with blood on her clothes. Her young daughter and the neighbor were already being transported in hammocks to the nearest town to seek help, but the mother admitted how grave was the daughter's status. With patient determinedness, my friend completed her story through long breaths and silent tears, recalling how she had learned that her daughter had not survived the journey to town but had passed away soon after the shooting.
We sat in silence listening to the storm. My arm around my friend's shoulder, I was unsure of what to say or how to comfort her. All I knew in that moment is that my work with FOR had been permanently affected by that conversation, that my life had been forever changed by my friend. What is there to say to someone who has experienced such a terrible loss? How is one to comfort such a tragically stricken individual? And that is exactly why my friend is a part of this community, because almost every person in the Peace Community has a similar story of the loss of a loved one, of a threat on his or her own life and of a desire to seek peace amidst such horrific violence. Therefore, this is where the comfort lies: in the solidarity of the campesinos that seek peace and in the hope of a community that struggles for a future.
And this is exactly what makes the persistent existence of the Peace Community so incredible. The fact that these campesinos believe enough in the pursuits of peace and justice that they continue this pursuit with the memories of these atrocities and in the face of fear that more may be just around the corner each day.
And that is exactly what makes the work of FOR so worthwhile. That we uphold and respect the principles and values of the community so much that we are willing to come and live alongside of them. This is no ordinary human rights work that we are doing here in el campo; this is about literally standing up in the face of impunity with the community in order to prevent just one more death, one more atrocity, and one more displacement in the PC. While other international accompaniment groups in the zone operate from living outside of the community, FOR strives to retain the ability to remain an uninvolved observer while living in the midst of the community. Therefore we have the privilege of witnessing firsthand the realities of life within this community, within this war zone. Over the past eleven years of the lifespan of the PC, very few outsiders have had such the honor of observing and evaluating such insights. Analyzing security from the perspective of the public or from the views of the leaders allows for only a glimpse of the true situation that we see day to day with our own eyes from our home in the community and that we constantly hear from the farmers and from their children and grandparents that live as our neighbors. No news article nor censored conversation can compare with the depth of understanding that we gain from experiencing life amidst the conflict-affected campesinos.
However, the effectiveness of international accompaniment does rely on the credibility of the neutral observer. Therefore the concept of non-interference into the affairs of the community is crucial, despite how involved emotionally I may become. Even though I live within the community, I will never be able to become one of the community members. As real as my relationships become, I will also be set apart as outsiders because of the nature of my work. The very distinctions that set me apart from the community are the ones that make me most effective at my job. The nationality of my passport, the color of my skin and the language of my homeland - all these attributes that prevent me from fully integrating are the very tools that enable me to do this work.
In truth, there are constant concerns here in the community about yet another massacre attempting to destroy their lives; however, the reality is that this anxiety alone has the power to deteriorate life if one is not aware of and prepared for its presence. And it is in this conscientiousness that the community finds it greatest strength: unifying against all imminent threats from the surrounding forces that try to tear it apart. But here also lies the most vulnerable weakness, in that the community must rely on each individual to take an outward stance against the inevitable injustices by making such a strong commitment to the cultivation of peace. Because each member of the Peace Community must contribute to its endurance in order to maintain each one's own survival, the significance of each member is heightened. By intertwining various factors of loyalty and subsistence, ones life becomes just as dependent on the community as the community is dependent on the individuals. Therefore, the support must be mutual. If the community is not willing to reach out to the weaker members, then someone or something else will. And if this happens, then the results can be grave for everyone in the group.
This is precisely why the community will gather together in the face of their enemies at times in order to resist the outside forces that desire to penetrate into the community. A couple of months ago, the humanitarian aid extension of the state decided to come to LU to host a meeting in the village's school. This organization called Accion Social (AS) has begun working in the zone in order to demonstrate their support for this war torn region. However, the Peace Community is neither ignorant of the state's actual intentions to establish its presence within the community, nor is it willing to collaborate with the state which has been behind so many atrocities committed against the community. Therefore on this day of the proposed AS meeting, the community leaders called together their members for a sit-in at the school in order to prevent any official meeting of the state to take place. The community was infuriated that the state believed that it did not need permission to enter into the community when in reality the Inter-American Court as well as the Colombian Constitutional Court have both recognized that the rules and parameters of the Peace Community, including the right to deny access to the community by all actors in the conflict, must be respected by all entities, even the state itself. For about an hour, the community members were in a test of wills with the men from AS to see who would concede first. One community leader repeatedly told AS how the Peace Community, how these campesinos had been living and working in this area for eleven years and were by no means going to relinquish their space now or leave in the face of the state. Eventually, AS decided to pack up and leave the community, after which the community promptly put a lock on the door of the school building to prevent any further attempts of intruding. Whether it was the insistence of the community leader or the strength in numbers of the community members, the Peace Community was yet again able to peacefully hold its ground.
Despite these moments of seemingly minimal achievements, each community member is nevertheless at all times vulnerable to the temptations of those who would want to harm the community; therefore the community must look after their own. And these risks only become heightened when there is an absence of support. A sick man physically cannot work to feed his family of five kids and a pregnant wife, so therefore must look to other options to find that provision. Not only does everyone within the community know what is going on all the time amongst their neighbors, but also the hidden onlookers scattered throughout the hillsides are constantly aware of the status of the community, watching and waiting for possible openings for intrusion. A hopelessly poor campesino embodies the ideal target for a bribe in exchange for sending provisions to the rebels or for providing false testimony against the community to the state. These armed actors patiently await such golden opportunities when a community member may fall along the fringes, becoming inevitably susceptible to desperate measures.
Yet the Peace Community is altogether very familiar with these dynamics and is all too dependent on the value of the members to neglect to support fellow campesinos. It is this consistent outreach to each member that reinforces both the strength and the lifespan of the community.
26 September 2008
As my thoughts are constantly filled with the situation of the Colombian conflict, the physical security of these campesinos and the politic work of FOR, I look around and realize that while these community members themselves are likewise contemplating these same concerns, the Peace Community does not subsist solely focusing on their means for survival. Of course each individual carries the burden of supporting the family and of upholding the community's principles, yet the value of the lives of the campesinos does not rest merely in the fact that they have been able to overcome and to persist despite all odds and regardless of all those who may threaten their existence. Their true value and the deeper meaning of this Peace Community lies in the fact that these campesinos not only continue to struggle for peaceful neutrality within a war zone that does not allow for a lack of allegiance to one group, but also that they demand to live with both dignity and joy.
Although never forgetting from where they have come and always remembering what may lie ahead, these campesinos will not settle to survive with a paralyzing fear, but rather choose to live within a collection of unique and significant individuals that create a thriving and sustainable community. From educational opportunities to economic prospects and from soccer competitions to campo dances, all of these aspects of the community contribute to its effectiveness, in that the members can find success and development and even can discover joy and fulfillment. While always considering in the back of their minds the reality of imminent political and physical threats, these peace-seeking campesinos demonstrate the meaning of their community by the persistence of their struggle and the depth of their existence.
Through all of the unexpected, intense and eye-opening experiences that I have had, I believe that I have only come closer to understanding this intentional depth, as it is composed of endless contributions and expressions of the individuals of the Peace Community. Even though I already feel as if I have encountered head-on almost every significant aspect of life in the rural community, I am reminded each day that there is still so much to discover. From learning more about how to organically cultivate our own garden using cacao shells and chili powder, to how to carry wooden planks on top of my shoulders all the way down the mountain in order to prevent the bats from living in our roof, I feel a bit more at home down on the farm, however lacking in my machete-chopping skills I still may be. Climbing trees to pick ripe guavas without worms, crossing high waters in the river, buying eggs from my neighbors and burning our bathroom rubbish all feel fairly routine. Between the daily tasks of living, conversations with visitors and those that host me, and working in the office on analysis and documents, I keep busy with the seemingly consistent schedule of community life.
And as always, I am still making frequent trips around the zone and into town for accompaniments, visits and meetings that also keep me busy. A trip to town alone requires about one and half hours of hiking down to the first main town and then about another 45 minutes on the jeep into the city. It may seem like quite an adventure simply to go check your email, but I have now become very fond of the road up to our village, La Union, and very familiar with each river crossing and short cut along the way.
However, I never let myself get to jaded by the normalcy of a day or two, because each new day always promises something out of the ordinary. Whether it be unexpected and unwelcomed visitors into the community or an urgent trip to the town or another settlement, a random dance at night or a last minute invitation to a cacao cultivation, I wake each morning wondering what the day will bring. A few weeks ago now, I had such a day of weighty surprises.
As per usual, I woke up one morning and crawled out of my mosquito net. After about fifteen minutes of getting myself ready in our house, I skipped across the path over to the kitchen in our other house to make some tea and breakfast. Other than the fact that my colleagues had left earlier that morning to head down to town for the day, everything else that morning proceeded as normal. Singing to my music as I prepared some oatmeal, I was visited by one of my neighbors who often passes by in the mornings. However, this time was different. She first exchanged with me the typical initial greetings but there was a different tone in her voice that day. In few words and with little hesitation, she informed me that military soldiers were descending down from the hills into the community at the very moment. Somewhat shocked and fairly discombobulated, I flipped off the stove and ran over to our house to gather my things. Throwing on the brightest blue FOR t-shirt I could find, I grabbed a pen, paper and my phone and sprinted blatantly across the canyon over to the hill where I could see the soldiers passing alongside of a home of one of the community members.
As I traversed the shallow river, my blue shirt and white skin demanded the attention of the soldiers, who stopped to watch me. Almost all of them had already come down from the hillside and were already entering into the caserio (collection of homes) of the community. Continuing my climb over to the other side of the community to perch myself visibly on the hillside, I found the community member sitting outside of her home waiting as the soldiers finished passing by. As we watched the line of about 15-20 soldiers swiftly passing through the homes and continuing on down along the trail out of the village, I tossed my phone to my friend and asked her to help me find the spot of minimal cell phone reception in her home. Knowing I needed to make immediate contact with my other teammates, I had expected to be able to use my cell phone at this home, where often we have been able to find signal to make calls. As my friend struggled and failed to find the phone signal, which as always was not reliable, I once again jetted back to my house to grab our satellite phone to call my teammates in Bogota to notify them of the situation.
Yet I noticed something odd while running across the canyon and around the houses back to home. I finally realized that the strange ambiance that morning was reinforced by the absence of the normal morning bustle around the community. Generally in the mornings, the houses have their doors open, their stereos blasting and their inhabitants wondering about preparing to head out to the farms to work. However, this morning was starkly different. The doors were closed, the houses were silent and no one was moving around. Everyone had shut themselves securely inside their homes that morning, waiting nervously for the intruders to leave. Only after I had made the call to Bogota and began walking around to make my international presence visible in the community and to visit people did I start to see individuals slowly and hesitantly reemerging out of their homes. As I strolled from house to house, I could feel everyone's eyes following me. Confirming with people my concern about the situation as I had relayed the news to my teammates, I spoke with many community members who were perched on their porches, monitoring the hills and almost instinctively expecting something more. Scared and anxious, these campesinos were now on edge awaiting to know if more soldiers would appear from the mountain sides and invade their homes, as had happened in the past when the military was involved in the massacre of six Peace Community leaders in 2000.
Thankfully, this occasion was different. No more soldiers entered into the community that day. No one had been harmed by any of the intruders. And no threats had been directly spoken against any of the community members. But these factors alone did not appease the fears of the campesinos. The mere action of violating the Peace Community's principles by entering into the community was sufficient to demonstrate their vulnerability to penetration by outsiders and the freshness of their memories of past tragedies. These reactions are both constant reminders to the community that they never know what is going to happen, much less what can happen any day. For the first time with my work with FOR did I feel that I was actually doing my job: providing international accompaniment in the presence of armed actors in order to prevent injustices against the Peace Community. Nonetheless once again, no one knew what was going to happen, what could have happened that day.
The more time I spend in the Peace Community, the more these experiences allow me to delve more into my relationships here. Whether it be the amount of time or the actual experiences themselves that are bringing us closer, I feel drawn into a new level of trust and respect with the community members. Despite the circumstances that may be creating this deeper connection, I am grateful for the acceptance I am given from the campesinos.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A few weeks in
Over the past three weeks that I have been living here in the Peace Community (PC), I have been settling in well to this new way of life. Not only have I learned how to scrub my clothes by hand, clean the drinking water filter and weed our garden with a machete, but I have also been discovering more and more about the purpose of this community and of my work within it as an international accompanier and human rights observer. On the outset, life in this rural village may seem fairly simple. Each day in order to live, these farmers (los campesinos) have to work in the field (la finca), mainly with tiny bananas and cacao, take care of the household duties and prepare the daily food for the family. However, as basic as these tasks may appear, the complexities run so much deeper than an outsider can imagine before taking a deeper look into the meaning and the innerworkings of this place. Life in this PC is not just the hardwork of el campesino, but is moreso a collective struggle for survival in which las fincas contain more than just bananas and cacao, the homes house more than merely immediate relationships and the family needs more than food and water in order to persist day by day. Each aspect of daily living is made that much more intensely difficult because of this intentional decision to create life here in the PC. The PC is more than a group of campesinos living communally; it is the best alternative for neutral living within this area of conflict.
Each factor of life in the PC affects every other part. A relationship one has may either positively or negatively affect another. A decision one makes may drastically change one's life. Catching a cold can have a severe impact on one's ability to work, as to work is to survive. Making the commitment to live within the PC for these campesinos means declaring to uphold the values and the purpose of this lifestyle, despite all other variables that try to influence one's life. In order to live within the PC, an individual has to commit to live by three main principles:
1. Not to participate in the war either directly or indirectly;
2. Not to carry arms;
3. And to participate in a collective work group within the community.
While these basic tenets may seem somewhat simple to understand as well as easy to maintain, the ability to continuously carry out these concepts in reality can become an intense struggle between ultimate survival and a call for peace. Although these precepts have been established to sustain life in this area, the true manifestation of peace has time and again been compromised by more or less external factors. Once again, each aspect of life dramatically influences another. For instance, the decisions one makes about to whom to sell the crops or the relationships one has with people outside of the PC are two contributing components to the reality of the complications. The PC was created eleven years ago on the 23rd of March in 1997 to provide refuge for displaced persons (desplazados) in search of a way to live separately from while inevitably surrounded by the armed conflict. However, this attempt at peaceful neutrality is not finalized by one's membership in the PC, as over the past eleven years have there been about 185 PC members killed. Evidently, members of the community are by no means exempt from the harrassment of the war nor shielded from the temptations amidst the conflict; nonetheless, the genuine commitment to the PC does seem to bring life to those who thought they could never find one.
The value of this region to all parties does not lie alone in the strength of the PC nor the strategic location of the area, but also in the richness of the land itself. The hills are covered with fertile farmland that reliably produces both subsistent and cash crops. Not a day goes by that people do not bring us gifts of avocadoes or mangoes or plantains fresh from their fincas. It seems as if the land is eager to produce life, perhaps compensating for the other factors that hinder comfortable living. Each time it rains, the smells of this jungle eminate from the surrounding mountains and fortunately cover the other less pleasing odors of the animals that freely wander around our community. As the thunderstorms subside, the ground remains wet and soft, presenting us with the formidable challenge of walking on rock tops to avoid a muddy fall. Attempting to walk around the mud is only most strenuous when making the hike up or down the mountainside to reach our village (la vereda) of La Union, home to about 140 people. Dirtying one's rubber boots is not a problem as crossing the rivers provides opportunities to wash them; however, stepping too deeply into the mud is the real obstacle that one tries to avoid.
I recently had my own unforgettable encounter with the seemingly harmless mud on a recent climb up the mountain. I have by this point made many trips up and down the mountain and feel very comfortable with the path. At the beginning, this hike was a fairly difficult one for me, not because of the slope of the mountain or the sometimes high water at the river crossings, but rather simply because of my lack of a sense of direction. It took several times before I was able to recognize the turns in the path and the shortcuts through the fields that were initially indistingushable to me. Yet over time, I have become more accustomed to the trek and perhaps now take less caution with each of my steps. However, amist all my confidence in my hiking abilities, this self-assuredness did not save me from my own struggle with the muddy terrain. Unable to determine the actual depth of the mud along the trail the other day, I took one step a bit too carelessly and apparently too firmly as all that came back out of that step was my foot while my boot remained in the mud. At first my colleague tried to advise me on how to be able to remove my boot along with my foot from the mud if I twisted my ankle just so. Feeling as if I was about to break off my foot, I relinquished the boot to the mud. As if prying the boot from quicksand, the more I pulled, the more it seemed to get lodged into the ground. I dove in with both arms deep into the mud in order to grab the boot by the heel and dig the shoe out. A few falls and many grunts later, I managed to free my boot from the mud without getting the rest of my body stuck in there as well. I put back on that muddy boot to continue on our way, all the while appreciating just another day in the countryside (el campo).
We have started working on our vegetable garden (la huerta) in the backyard and have come a long way with the help of one of our friends. Past volunteers have kept up la huerta on and off, but we discovered it to be a little bit overgrown when we arrived. Therefore in the process of weeding the whole thing with our hands and machetes, we uncovered a number of bluming crops already. So far we are growing a long list of vegetables, fruits and herbs including spinach, lemongrass, ginger, papaya, yuca, beans, mint and more. We are looking forward to planting more seeds in the coming weeks. And of course, nothing can be completed here in the community without a musical accompaniment. At any time of day and sometimes at night, one can hear different songs blasting from all directions of the hillsides. An atuned listener can even distinguish from which homes certain music is blaring although all the noises may at times be competing for the soundwaves. As for me while working in la huerta, I found it most appropriate to turn up some tunes from my own countryside: some Texas classics of Pat Green and Robert Earl Keen. My colleagues didn't seem to appreciate as much as I did the various references to George's Bar, Austin or Southbound I-35. But nonetheless, a little taste of home.
When I am not digging my boots out of the mud or working on our huerta, there is all the other work that we are doing here with FOR (not that everything else doesn't seem to come along with the whole package of life in el campo). We have been extremely busy for the past few weeks that we have been here getting to know the community and the this northwestern region of Urabá. We have already completed several accompaniment trips for the PC which has send us on foot or by bus all over the place. With our other time, we spend analyzing the security of the area and reporting on the human rights situation in and around the PC. But of course, many of my favorite moments have been getting to know the individuals living in our own vereda. Visiting their homes and often receiving visitors at any hour have provided a great source of both insight into the heartbeat of the PC as well as personal joy in making these meaningful connections.
As I mentioned before, I am learning more and more each day that I am here. But I cannot help but often feel as if I will never fully be able to understand the all the deep complexities of this place. I am not sure that an outsider ever would be able to understand the complete picture nor sympathize with the lives of these campesinos. Nonetheless, I am attempting to do as much as I can as I believe in the work of FOR and in the struggle of the PC.
Each factor of life in the PC affects every other part. A relationship one has may either positively or negatively affect another. A decision one makes may drastically change one's life. Catching a cold can have a severe impact on one's ability to work, as to work is to survive. Making the commitment to live within the PC for these campesinos means declaring to uphold the values and the purpose of this lifestyle, despite all other variables that try to influence one's life. In order to live within the PC, an individual has to commit to live by three main principles:
1. Not to participate in the war either directly or indirectly;
2. Not to carry arms;
3. And to participate in a collective work group within the community.
While these basic tenets may seem somewhat simple to understand as well as easy to maintain, the ability to continuously carry out these concepts in reality can become an intense struggle between ultimate survival and a call for peace. Although these precepts have been established to sustain life in this area, the true manifestation of peace has time and again been compromised by more or less external factors. Once again, each aspect of life dramatically influences another. For instance, the decisions one makes about to whom to sell the crops or the relationships one has with people outside of the PC are two contributing components to the reality of the complications. The PC was created eleven years ago on the 23rd of March in 1997 to provide refuge for displaced persons (desplazados) in search of a way to live separately from while inevitably surrounded by the armed conflict. However, this attempt at peaceful neutrality is not finalized by one's membership in the PC, as over the past eleven years have there been about 185 PC members killed. Evidently, members of the community are by no means exempt from the harrassment of the war nor shielded from the temptations amidst the conflict; nonetheless, the genuine commitment to the PC does seem to bring life to those who thought they could never find one.
The value of this region to all parties does not lie alone in the strength of the PC nor the strategic location of the area, but also in the richness of the land itself. The hills are covered with fertile farmland that reliably produces both subsistent and cash crops. Not a day goes by that people do not bring us gifts of avocadoes or mangoes or plantains fresh from their fincas. It seems as if the land is eager to produce life, perhaps compensating for the other factors that hinder comfortable living. Each time it rains, the smells of this jungle eminate from the surrounding mountains and fortunately cover the other less pleasing odors of the animals that freely wander around our community. As the thunderstorms subside, the ground remains wet and soft, presenting us with the formidable challenge of walking on rock tops to avoid a muddy fall. Attempting to walk around the mud is only most strenuous when making the hike up or down the mountainside to reach our village (la vereda) of La Union, home to about 140 people. Dirtying one's rubber boots is not a problem as crossing the rivers provides opportunities to wash them; however, stepping too deeply into the mud is the real obstacle that one tries to avoid.
I recently had my own unforgettable encounter with the seemingly harmless mud on a recent climb up the mountain. I have by this point made many trips up and down the mountain and feel very comfortable with the path. At the beginning, this hike was a fairly difficult one for me, not because of the slope of the mountain or the sometimes high water at the river crossings, but rather simply because of my lack of a sense of direction. It took several times before I was able to recognize the turns in the path and the shortcuts through the fields that were initially indistingushable to me. Yet over time, I have become more accustomed to the trek and perhaps now take less caution with each of my steps. However, amist all my confidence in my hiking abilities, this self-assuredness did not save me from my own struggle with the muddy terrain. Unable to determine the actual depth of the mud along the trail the other day, I took one step a bit too carelessly and apparently too firmly as all that came back out of that step was my foot while my boot remained in the mud. At first my colleague tried to advise me on how to be able to remove my boot along with my foot from the mud if I twisted my ankle just so. Feeling as if I was about to break off my foot, I relinquished the boot to the mud. As if prying the boot from quicksand, the more I pulled, the more it seemed to get lodged into the ground. I dove in with both arms deep into the mud in order to grab the boot by the heel and dig the shoe out. A few falls and many grunts later, I managed to free my boot from the mud without getting the rest of my body stuck in there as well. I put back on that muddy boot to continue on our way, all the while appreciating just another day in the countryside (el campo).
We have started working on our vegetable garden (la huerta) in the backyard and have come a long way with the help of one of our friends. Past volunteers have kept up la huerta on and off, but we discovered it to be a little bit overgrown when we arrived. Therefore in the process of weeding the whole thing with our hands and machetes, we uncovered a number of bluming crops already. So far we are growing a long list of vegetables, fruits and herbs including spinach, lemongrass, ginger, papaya, yuca, beans, mint and more. We are looking forward to planting more seeds in the coming weeks. And of course, nothing can be completed here in the community without a musical accompaniment. At any time of day and sometimes at night, one can hear different songs blasting from all directions of the hillsides. An atuned listener can even distinguish from which homes certain music is blaring although all the noises may at times be competing for the soundwaves. As for me while working in la huerta, I found it most appropriate to turn up some tunes from my own countryside: some Texas classics of Pat Green and Robert Earl Keen. My colleagues didn't seem to appreciate as much as I did the various references to George's Bar, Austin or Southbound I-35. But nonetheless, a little taste of home.
When I am not digging my boots out of the mud or working on our huerta, there is all the other work that we are doing here with FOR (not that everything else doesn't seem to come along with the whole package of life in el campo). We have been extremely busy for the past few weeks that we have been here getting to know the community and the this northwestern region of Urabá. We have already completed several accompaniment trips for the PC which has send us on foot or by bus all over the place. With our other time, we spend analyzing the security of the area and reporting on the human rights situation in and around the PC. But of course, many of my favorite moments have been getting to know the individuals living in our own vereda. Visiting their homes and often receiving visitors at any hour have provided a great source of both insight into the heartbeat of the PC as well as personal joy in making these meaningful connections.
As I mentioned before, I am learning more and more each day that I am here. But I cannot help but often feel as if I will never fully be able to understand the all the deep complexities of this place. I am not sure that an outsider ever would be able to understand the complete picture nor sympathize with the lives of these campesinos. Nonetheless, I am attempting to do as much as I can as I believe in the work of FOR and in the struggle of the PC.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Aqui Estoy en Colombia
Here I am now in Colombia and have arrived safely to the apartment of my organization, called Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR), here in Bogota. I flew into this great country last night and am getting my work and life figured out for my time here with FOR. I will be traveling this weekend to the Peace Community in the northwestern area of rural Colombia where I will be living and working for at least the next few months. The Peace Community is located in Apartado outside of San Jose de Apartado and we are based in the village of La Union. The work of FOR in Colombia consists of providing international accompaniment to this local Peace Community and as well as local human rights groups based in Medellin.
Here is the link to the FOR Colombia website for more information: www.forcolombia.org.
I will send out more information soon as I am getting settled. Thanks for your support!
Here is the link to the FOR Colombia website for more information: www.forcolombia.org.
I will send out more information soon as I am getting settled. Thanks for your support!
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