There´s war in them mountains

As a write this I am smearing Caladryl lotion on my arms in hopes of stopping the poison ivy type rash from spreading. The campo is full of itchy things and it seems that I am quite adept at catching just about anything the countryside has to offer. I guess I am going for the full experience every time. This time the itchy countryside I traipsed about in was the eastern part of the Department of Antioquia, or the Oriente Antioqueño. This part of the country (which is a far away part of the same department that I live in) has experienced some of the most concentrated and horrific violence of Colombia´s internal war.

During the FOR delegation in August of 2005 we visited one of these Eastern municipalities and its far flung veredas, or rural townships. I was in absolute awe of what we saw in our two days in this region. We made our way higher up into the striking mountains, stopping at small veredas of the municipality of Corcona on the way up. The first was a town called El Molino. The people of this small farming community had suffered from the war as it dropped its bombs on their humble houses and claimed its causilties from the civilian men, women and children who had long lived their modest lives in the embrace of these inspiring mountains. Fifty percent of their community had been killed or displaced and they shared with our delegation the story of their struggle and their efforts to stay organized and remain on their land.

We then continued up the road to what was once the thriving town of Santa Ana. Only eight people were left living in the town, and these were older folks who hadn´t been physically able to leave when the entire town displaced. Colombian military and police stood watch over abandoned and bombed out buildings - the reminders of the military campaign to arrest control away from the FARC and by doing so force displacement of almost 100% of its inhabitants.

Our final stop on the delegation was to the small community of Los Medios. Here was a more hopeful story. While this community had also suffered from displacement and deaths, been constantly plagued by unidentified mines laid in once familiar paths to their crops and suffered from the continual stress and terrible reality of war, they are slowly rebuilding their lives. A group of Franciscan nuns and one priest moved into the community in 2004 to provide permanent accompaniment (very similar to our work in the Peace Community) and it has made a noticable difference as families have returned and the community has stayed organized and committed to a better future. I remember one of the walls displaying the words Sí! otro mundo es posible (Yes! Another world is possible). The stark contrasts between each of these neighboring communities struck me and I have hoped for a chance to visit with more of these veredas and people ever since. This of course brings me back to my current experience and itchy extremeties.

I hurried out of Apartadó after a whirlwind couple of days hosting a FOR delegation of Buddhists in the community in order to meet my teammate Camila and two people who work for the Antioquia Peasant Farmer´s Association or ACA. I had the rare pleasure of flying out of Apartado and of course, I was kicked off my first flight making things a bit more difficult but eventually getting me to Medellín. Anyone who knows me understands that problems with flights are even more common for me than, I don´t know, my tendency to wear ugly pants. So it was really no surprise at all.

I met Marta Lopez (in this picture with we Foristas) of the ACA at the bus station and we introduced ourselves and then hopped on the 3 hour bus ride to the Oriente. Martha is a couple years older than me and has been working with the ACA for 6 years now as a capacitator and organizer of rural at-risk communities and displaced campesinos now living in urban areas. By the end of the week I had a new friend in Martica and was making plans to hang out and even copying her distinct paisa accent. Upon arriving in San Francisco, we hiked out to meet Camila and Gustavo, an agronomist with the ACA, in one of the farther out veredas of the municipality of San Francisco.

The hour and a half walk to get there was full of my ooohs and ahhhs at every turn. These mountains leave me without adequate description. Their ancient majesty is covered in green and the evening light casts about a warm, generous and almost mysterious glow. Cool and fast flowing water rushes down in waterfalls and rivers as people make their homes on the steep inclines of the mountainside.

Gustavo has been spending time in these communities demonstrating how to build terraced fields and pig excrement-to-methane gas constructions, among other sustainable farming methods. This pig to gas contraption is really incredible. Pig excrement is gathered into a holding tank which feeds into a large plastic bag-as-tube. The sun breaks down the excrement into methane gas which then flows into pvc piping and carries it to nearby houses to light gas stoves or light up the house. The excess waste is then used as compost for crops. It is truly just ingenious. And I think this is a sideways picture of it.

While Gustavo is molding the earth and cultivating new energy forms, Marta keeps track of concerns and needs of the community, ensuring that national attention is focused on these at-risk areas and that the communities themselves feel accompanied as they struggle to stay on their lands. The next day, Fernando, a lawyer with the ACA, joined us in order to give talks on the Free Trade of the Americas Act that is being met with some resistance in the US and would prove terribly consequential for these small mountain communities. It was really empowering to listen as Fernando outlined the origins, stipulations and probable consequences and how they would specifically effect these communities. He also offered concrete and practical ways to resist the sure-to-pass pact.

The work of the ACA is truly inspirational grassroots organizing, rooted in real community concerns and framed within achievable goals. Nestled in the Cordillera Occidental of the Andean range (about 5300 feet up), these 41 veredas of San Francisco still maintain about 6000 inhabitants. The region has experienced around 70% displacement and many of the veredas remain abandoned and prime territory for the deformity of war. Mines were planted starting in 2003 by FARC and paramilitary forces. Over 98% of the mines in this area are still unidentified, making sticking to the well worn path a very important piece of advice to heed.


Our second day in the area we walked down, down, down a path to the vereda of La Esperanza. A community deeply rooted in the Catholic tradition and one in which every front porch provided a magnificent view of the facing mountains. Here, too, the 21 families are struggling to stay on their rich mountain land. And the ACA is accompanying them through their process. Marta, Gustavo and Fernando were all warmly welcomed back as Camila and I were greeted with excitement. I spent a good part of the night teaching the kids words in English and ever-so-poorly trying to repeat a really hard Colombian toungue twister that even my small teacher couldn´t make it through without pausing for a dramatic breath. We met Doña Celsa who at 78 is an example of the energy and weird spunk that we can only hope to have at 28. She explained the healing powers of many of the plants and herbs she has long cultivated and told us stories about her life as a widow and a midwife. Doña Celsa also sported the same fake Chuck Taylor high tops that most people in this area wear. Oldest to youngest resident, they are all walking around in All Stars.


The next three days were spent in the town center of San Francisco. In the mornings we would go to nearby communities or mostly displaced campesinos who are making it work despite the many hardships they have had to face. They have all reinvented themselves far away from their rural mountain homes. One of these groups, La Solidaridad, is a group of mostly older women who farm a terraced area just up the hill from the center of town. These women shared their stories with Camila and I, and almost every story involved children and husbands being killed by the violence combined with inevitable displacement from the land they were born in. All of this as they were weeding the terraces and replanting onions and tending to the greens.

The same fortitude was shown the next day in the nearby community of Boquerón. There we once again met displaced people, resettling in new and untamed lands, willing to work with groups like the ACA who bring in new ideas and hopefully, added sustainability and an increased feeling of security. As we boarded the bus on Friday afternoon and wound our way down the picturesque mountains heading back to Medellín I couldn´t help but feel overwhelmed and so very priviliged to have spent time in a new part of this country. The beauty of the mountains was astounding and the strength and resilence of the people was even more so.

The next morning we switched gears completely as we began a four day accompaniment of the Red Juvenil of Medellín (Medellín Youth Network)and quiet mountain majesty gave way to radical urban revolution. These youth know how to get it done, (to borrow from the Mita/Jack coffers). That will be next up in blog land. Plus an update on the lastest happenings in the Peace Community.

If you are interested in seeing more pictures of my trip to the east, check them out here.