Limping Toward Justice

An international accompanier's account of her time in a Colombian community engaged in non-violent resistance to the decades old armed conflict.

"Justice...limps along, but it gets there all the same." -Colombian Nobel Prize winning author, Gabriel García Márquez

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Celebration with a side of Typhoid


This is a picture of a mule. If this mule looks rather satisfied with itself it could be because it had just proved the old idiom “stubborn as…” having, the evening prior, forced me to pull it up the mountain as the eager journalists from the Chicago Tribune raced on ahead into the darkening mountain leaving me behind with muley and all of their stuff. That next morning this mule challenged me to pull her down the mountain as said journalists once again raced ahead while I muttered nonsensical encouragements to the mule who took one slow, but sure, step after another. The journalists visited the community the two days prior to the start of the 10th anniversary celebration and I was lucky to spend every minute with them as they asked questions and took pictures while I translated and gave background information. The end product was a weakened immune system for yours truly and a decent article in the Chicago tribune and a really lovely ‘multi media’ photo essay in which I provide some explanation and attempt to say campesino as many times as possible in one sentence.

Check it out here: http://www.forcolombia.org/news/endimpunity

It has been a while since my last post partly thanks to the aforementioned weakened immune system and partly thanks to the flurry of activity that took over the community in the days leading up to and during the Anniversary Celebration. In La Unión we watched as the community workdays were used to build a new fence around the kiosk, repair the community kitchen and pick up trash. Women worked to sew costumes for the big youth dance presentation as the youth worked on their song and dance and cleaned the school from top to bottom to make it ready for hammocks and mattresses. There was a palpable energy in the air and even though I was playing tour guide to the journalists, I was able to soak up the excitement.


The Community announced its founding ten years ago on March 23rd and celebrated it’s continued peaceful resistance by organizing a five day long “encuentro” kicked off on the 22nd with a mass and display of coffins representing the 178 community members who have been killed by armed actors. The coffins were placed alongside candles that created a mournful glow as the act of remembrance was begun and Padre Javier officiated. The next morning commenced with a silent march from San Josecito to Apartado, 24 kilometers round trip. Community members, accompanied by fellow Colombians and visiting internationals commenced the solemn march in the morning, most on foot, some on horse or mule and some in the colorful bus that was contracted to ensure that children and older folks could participate even if they couldn’t handle the long, hot walk.

I brought up the rear for most of the day and found it incredible to see so many people stretched out ahead of me on the dusty and winding road. Folks carried signs and later on the same coffins as we inched closer and closer to a town that represents greater danger for community members. In this town, community members have been killed and detained by the police and military and paramilitary forces. It was in Apartadó two years ago that Colombia’s President stood before the press and insinuated that all members of the Peace Community were part of the guerrilla forces and that the International Accompaniers were also collaborating to facilitate the FARC’s war. Such words are as powerful as bullets in a country so immersed in violence. For many PC members it is a place they avoid if at all possible, for others it is a routine trip for groceries and necessities. For all involved in the march it was a powerful witness to the atrocities survived by the Peace Community and a potent reminder to the residents of Apartadó that the war rages on in the countryside and its impact continues to be felt.

In the middle of the night, following the march, my immune system gave way to a high fever, the harbinger of what was to come. The next morning the encuentro kicked off with guests arriving to lead workshops and talks. I went to town for the dreaded malaria test and then, feeling better after a negative result, walked up to La Unión with the rest of the participants. Sick or not, I was determined to be present for the song and dance presentation. I, of course, did not have malaria and it took a couple more days of awful fever and many blood draws later until I was finally diagnosed with Typhoid Fever and Lyptospiros with a side of possible Dengue and a sampler of parasites. Apparently I’d been sick for months, which neatly explained all the random fevers and illness. So while I was there for the amazing song and dance, the fever kicked in later that night and even a dance with my famous partner Norbey couldn’t sweat it out of me.


The presentation by the youth was once again amazing. The boys sang the Community Hymn as well as three other songs, including a version of Guantanamera with verses written by one of the young boys. The girls danced their hearts out, swirling in their carefully sewn costumes and even showing off some more scandalous reggaton moves. The kiosk was packed full of community members, visitors and friends, all of us basking in the glow of celebration and fellowship. The presentation was followed by a community dance that lasted well into the night. After my brief appearance and Norbey-lead twirl around the dance floor, I crawled back into bed and sunk deeper into fever as the now familiar strains of music somehow lulled me into feverish sleep. (This last picture is of me and Norbey, I have a really high fever there so I can´t say if the smile is pure joy or pure delusion)

The remaining three days of the encuentro was more of a blur than anything else for me. I eventually got back to town thanks to a speedy horse and my amazing teammates who took good care of me. I have been in Apartadó now for about a week and a half, receiving drugs straight into my veins and being reminded, via cable TV in the hotel room, just how addictive US television programs can be. I was very disappointed to miss the opportunities for collaboration and the workshops given by guest speakers. But it seems as if the encuentro was an enormous success. The community was inundated with concerned people from all over Europe, the Americas and Colombia while ten years of resistance was commemorated through silent witness and powerful proclamation. The future was embraced through song and dance and cultural sharing and the international and national network of solidarity was strengthened and invigorated.

For more on the Encuentro check out the article on the FOR webpage, introduced by my teammate Janice and followed by a statement from the community: http://www.forcolombia.org/peacecommunity/anniversary