Beauty and Horror

I had a nice morning a few days ago. After laser frogs woke me up (they sound like bweiw! bweiw!) I read a little bit in the hammock and warmed up some tinto (strong, black and very sweet coffee) that I had made yesterday. Using the customary black rubber boots, I crossed the rain engorged stream between the FOR house and the house of Lucia, a new friend. Maryeli, Lucia’s oldest daughter, was outside getting two horses ready to go the 1.5 hours down to the nearest town. I stayed a while in Lucia’s house trying to maintain conversation and throwing Lucia and her daughters into fits of laughter with my attempts to cook eggs, catch a cat, speak, etc. After coming back to the FOR house, I had just started warming up some more tinto when a large Colombian military helicopter appeared over the hill right behind Lucia’s house. The made-in-the-USA helicopter circled the small community of La Union (where we live) low enough that I could see the faces of the soldiers inside and then disappeared behind a hill further down the mountain from La Union. I, and others who also had come outside, heard it stay there until it reappeared, circled La Union again and flew out of sight. I returned to the house to find I had burnt the tinto.

I’m surrounded by beauty and horror in the peace community. While I relish the prevalence of heavy rains, birdsong, peaceful mornings, budding friendships, shared food, and laughing with strangers I’m also always aware of the horror of threats, loss, fear, and violent death. It’s hard for me to understand or piece together how they can coexist. Its neither beautiful nor horrifying here; its both, depending on the moment you’re in, with the other always lurking, waiting to show itself as the Mr. Hyde of the context. These first two weeks I’ve mostly experienced the beauty of this dynamic. But the horror creeps in or saturates every experience whether it be through rumors of nearby troops, shots heard at night, painful stories of the not so distant past, fears expressed, helicopter fly-overs or just the ever-present knowledge that you live in a community that is threatened by its own government. In the midst of a life of work, rest, and fellowship that I’ve come to enjoy I feel the presence of the military daily as well as the living memory of over 150 community members they’ve been involved in killing.

It’s been about three weeks that I’ve been in the community and I’m very happy to be here but also look forward to maturing in my relationships with people here and with my understanding of the struggle of the community. From my arrival it’s been obvious that my time here will seriously affect me, hopefully more on the beauty side and less on the horror. I hope that all of you are well and able to find or create beauty in your lives wherever you are. In the mean time, enjoy some photos that I’ve posted below.

La Union, looking out our front door

Lucia and one of her daughers (guy at right is Chris, other FOR volunteer)

Yea! Limbo!

A 90 degree greeting to you all. If you're reading this its most likely because you are my family, a friend, or someone I've met at a presentation about accompaniment work in Colombia (which I'll start soon here).

Right now I'm in Bogota after arriving from Sincelejo on the north coast of Colombia. I came here because a guy that I met seven years ago and hadn't really seen since said that I could live and work with his family. The day after I got here that guy left for Harrisonburg, Va. Consequently, I feel lucky to have had a very life-giving and fun time in Sincelejo.

Its been a fairly relaxed two months with plenty of time to make some websites and get to know and enjoy my hosts Jose Juan, Mafe and Maggie. They've seen to it that I, a loosely connected stranger, not only have enough food but also comfort, social connections, and meaningful experiences here. Thank goodness Colombian hospitality is a notch above in the United States. Because of the organizations and campaigns my hosts are involved in I had the chance to meet various organizers, activists, and politicians almost all who invited me to their houses, the beach, to parties, or to watch their kids.

At one point I went to a meeting of representatives of youth networks who traveled from small towns and communities scattered throughout the Montes de Maria. It seems a naive realization to have, but I was really struck by the reality of what it means to struggle for change and the audacity one has to have to even attempt it. The groups represented at the meeting commit themselves to raise the quality of living and opporutnities for youth in their communities in the face of economic and social disenfranchisement and legal and illegal military recruitment faced by rural Colombian youth. The audaciousness one needs to have to declare effective and concrete change possible in the living conditions of a community when confronted with the behemoth realities of an export and city oriented economy (thanks to neo-liberalist influences) and a decades old war is just incredible. Especially contrasted with my own history of activism as mostly done through pre-established organizations with protocols, trainings, and support groups. Most of the representatives at the meeting started their lives as grass-roots organizers with not much more than the urgency of change, their energy, and community connections. Listening to the youth network representatives I began to understand how much bravery and hope it takes to start and continue grass-roots work that brings meaningful change. (and this is without even going into the risk and threats they receive due to their work)

I would have been happy to stay in Sincelejo to spend some more time with Jose Juan, Mafe, and their family but I'm also excited to begin my work with FOR and to finally get to the peace community. I've posted some pics below of my time and friends in Sincelejo.