I have never really had an excuse to use the phrase “Cacophony of sound” before. The suburbs where I grew up were sometimes eerily silent. In Littleton there were gentle, distinguishable bird sounds and the occasional fire station horn, but generally it was pretty quiet. When I lived in Philadelphia there were definitely explosions of sounds and fights, but not an ongoing
“cacophony.” It is now 5:30am, and there is vallenato (think polka music in Spanish) music blaring from the military radio station in my window, it sounds like there is a rooster on my head, and the cows are fighting? mating? outside my window. A couple minutes ago, donkeys were sad apparently, and so they were braying, which is what AJ tells me it is called when they make this amazingly loud, desperate crying sound. And this all exists over merry chirping sounds of little birds. Curiously, the music is punctuated by station reminders with messages from the army, professing their respect for human rights and duty to protect Colombia.Amañada? (Settled in, comfortable and happy yet?)
Maybe after some time out here I would get over my joy of hearing and seeing animals everywhere all the time. Maybe I would stop loving that community members stop by unannounced
and uninvited starting at about 7 am, to talk a bit about: crops, how we are feeling, whether we are settled in (amañadas), and how much better the climate is in La Unión than in San Josesito (which exists two hours down the hill and is hotter) or in Bogotá (which is way too cold). Maybe I would tire of our diet of quinua in peanut butter sauce with fresh vegetables and lots of maracuyá. And maybe I would even start to tire of having to walk two hours and then wait for the chiva for an hour to get groceries. But I’m not sure.It is a toss-up of whether I would tire even more of or come to love the local custom of greeting you with an assessment of your weight. Here is the approximate transcript of my introduction to an elderly man, who we’ll call Mr. Gallo, in the community:
AJ: Do you recognize Janice? She was here in August, and is here while Mireille is on vacation.
Elderly Mr. Gallo: Ah, very fat.
Janice: So nice to meet you. And what is your name?
Elderly Mr. Gallo: Very beautiful...and very fat.
Janice: Hmmmm.
(Silence)
AJ: OK, Don Gallo. May you stay healthy. See you soon!
When AJ & Mireille were hanging out with Mrs. Gallo the other week and explaining they didn’t eat meet, she alternately, somewhat lovingly rubbed each of their tummies, ruminating out loud on how amazing it was that two people could be so fat without eating any meat. When I met her, I assured her I did eat some meat, and she nodded knowingly.
Accompaniment
About a week ago I had my first proper accompaniment in San José. The consejo, or governing counsel, asked us to accompany the community and its leaders. Where would we go to on this important first official trip? To the beach, of course, for a day of rest and relaxation. We left the community at 5:30 in the morning, and piled into the bus the consejo had rented with about 40 community members. The bus was a converted American school bus, with the important difference that the distance between the seats, now made of wood, had been halved, the logic being that Colombians are shorter than Americans, or that if they have knees, they don’t really n
eed them. We rolled into a not-so-promising sandy parking lot, and walked the 5 minutes or so up the path, where a surprisingly beautiful beach emerged. As AJ and I scurried off to the shade to hide our pale skin, the community members hung out on the beach and played in the waves. AJ & I lounged in hammocks, and I enjoyed some amazing fried shrimp.It was easy to forget we were accompanying a threatened community, and on the way home AJ & I reminisced about the Red Sox 2004 World Series victory (she, of course, is a fan too) and relished this beach day with the mostly younger members of the community. And then, we were stopped by a group of soldiers who seemed to come from nowhere, and who seemed to be waiting for the bus. All of the community members were told to get off the bus, and all had to show what was in their bags, the men were patted down, and everyone had their identifications checked, and some rechecked. The soldiers recognized AJ and greeted her by name, since she had ridden up on the chiva with them the week before, and they had asked for Mireille’s number. It was a surreal experience: one soldier was fairly aggressivley and suspiciously questioning community members about their identity and whether they knew a certain woman, who had repeated her identification number incorrectly
when asked, while at the same time other soldiers, not any older than my former students, were smiling and chatting us up. For me, it was an intense experience: I was reeling a bit, since everything was happening so quickly, and all I could think about was how glad I was that we were there with community, since I think it diffused the situation and at the same time how humiliating it is, to some extent, that in order to feel safe with their own government officials, the community members have to have internationals with them. We were the only ones whose identification and bags weren’t checked.On that same road a few days later, a San Josesito resident and community member was detained. Her name is Amanda, and she is a single mother of four, and she works in the fields and often cooks for us and other community members. She was charged with four criminal counts: homicide, rebellion, kidnapping, and being affiliated with the guerrilla. Her name and the charges against her were broadcast all over the municipality. After a visit from the Defensor del Pueblo at the police station, roughly the equivalent of a human rights ombudsman, she was released the next morning, and apparently, all charges were dropped.
Premio Nobel de La Paz: “Vale la pena luchar”
We received word this week that the community has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize
by the American Friends Service Committee. This is an important recognition for the community, as anything that raises their profile makes them (and me) safer, and another reminder of how blessed I am to be living and working here. I was talking with a community member this week about life here, why he stays, and what he hopes for the future. He was born and raised in LU, and talked about the blissful times before the violence began, and then talked about all the work that needs to be done. He talked about how they want to have a high school which draws upon the knowledge that people here have about campo, or country, life, and which would teach young people skills they need to stay here – rather than teaching them things that will only be relevant if they leave. He talked about wanting to explore fair trade and organic certification for their crops and gaining access to new markets. And he talked about how when he was in Europe talking about the peace community, he had thought how boring it would be, because, well, everything is already done. The schools are built, the processes already developed to bring crops to market, and the society isn’t changing anymore. He said “vale la pena luchar” – it’s worth it to struggle, because of the possibility of what could exist here.Random Definitions, as written by Janice, to be updated as she sees fit:
SJA=Peace Community of San José de Apartadó: A community of campesinos (see below) in northwestern Colombia near the Panamanian border that consists of several smaller veredas and whose residents have committed themselves to non-involvement with Colombia’s armed conflict. It has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for 2007.
AJ: My FOR teammate & amazing woman, whose blog is www.limpingtowardsjustice.blogspot.com
Vereda: A small village or settlement
Vallenato: The polka-inspired Colombian folk music which is on permanent rotation here in La Unión. The popular vallenato dance is performed by hugging your partner very tight and walking together by taking small, rapid steps forward and back.
LU=La Unión: The vereda of San José de Apartadó where FOR has its house. There are about 125 people living in this vereda, which is a two hour hike uphill from San Josesito.
La Holandita, San Josesita: The largest vereda in SJA, it was formed in 2002 after the police set up a post in the town center of San José. At that time, the entire community “displaced,” or moved, about 20 minutes down the road and built a new community from scratch. It is at least twice the size of La Unión.
Campesino: Derived from the word campo, which means countryside or rural, a campesino is a rural farmer.
Bestia: Literally “beast,” it refers to the horses and mules that bring people and goods up and down the mountain paths in and around SJA, and which Janice is now (in)famous for in SJA because she fell off one during the August delegation when she decided to take the high road and mule decided to take the low road.
La Posa: The swimming hole formed by the river that passes close by LU
chiva: The jeep that meets us in San Josesito and takes us the 45 minutes or so to the “city” of Apartadó.
