stone for a pillow

We got back from another hike to La Esperanza and Mulatos. This time it was a two for one deal: La Esperanza on the first day and then a quick four-hour cut over the mountain to Mulatos the following day. We went with community leaders who were once again gathering folks in the area together to discuss crops, civilian safety, and the possibility of re-establishing education for the kids in the area. The meeting in La Esperanza was held in a run down but still used Pentecostal church and began at dusk. When Camila and I were asked to join them at the end of the meeting in order to introduce FOR and ourselves, we were welcomed into a meeting space lit by a single gas-flamed candle hanging precariously from the ceiling beams and throwing a soft and promising light over the sun-worn faces looking tired but earnest. After the meeting a small group of us headed out to the family farm of one of the community leaders from La Unión. The moon was low and bright as it skimmed the horizon and made flashlights unnecessary. We walked in a single file through fields, criss-crossing the river, and finding our way between gigantic corn stalks until we reached the house. Camila and I and our new favorite person Juan (a guy from Bogotá who is researching his dissertation for his anthropology PhD and is simply amazing) headed down to the river for a bath and were overwhelmed with the celestial dazzle of the vivid moon as it reflected in the clear and cold stream. We bathed, basked is more like it, in the moon’s rays, appreciating the cold water, the warm night and the illusory reality that brought us to that place, that time.

The next morning’s hike to Mulatos stretched into the afternoon and took us up, up, up on a rather closed off, jungly path. After a few moments in which our friends seemed to perhaps have been lost on the infrequently used path, we finally came out at the river that leads to the house where the group is staying. I was so excited to see those folks again. And the house was so much more lived in and improved upon than when we left. We exchanged hugs and drank some tinto and then, as the meeting there got started, Camila, Juan and I headed down to once again wash up in the river. The sun was still doing its thing, so there was no awe-inspiring soak this time around.

We had to leave the next morning, so we reluctantly packed up our things, said our goodbyes and prepared for the muddy walk back without the luxury of mules. We were with the leader I have spent the most time with this year, I even began calling him “Tio” a while back. He is one of the few natural leaders still alive in the community, having taken up a leadership role at its birth. This isn’t meant as a criticism of leadership here, the sad fact is that the FARC, Colombian Army and Paramilitary Forces have killed most of the original community leaders. This means that most of the leadership now consists of quieter men and women, all who have learned leadership, have worked at becoming a respected and trusted voice. This form of intentional leadership is incredibly impressive, especially when you consider that it arose out of the deaths of leaders. But Tio is one of the originals, someone who stepped effortlessly into his responsibilities and balances a laid back attitude with the gravitas of a seasoned leader. Going anywhere with him is guaranteed to be full of laughter and good-natured joking as his charisma spills out over anyone in his path. The journey back was no different, as this time Juan and Camila were the targets of Tio’s laughter as they stuck and un-stuck their way through the mud, both unfamiliar with these paths having just recently arrived. Tio kept bragging about how I was spotless and not even breathing hard as we ascended the thick-with-mud path. This new pressure to walk without incident meant that the few times I did get hopelessly stuck in the mud, I took advantage of the fact that I was bringing up the rear and put all my effort into pulling my boot out by myself so my proud Tio wouldn’t know that his gringa niece was as clumsy as ever.

When we were through the worst of it, we stopped to wait for some folks who were going the other direction so the leaders could discuss some urgent matters with them. We sat down in front of the school in Buenos Aires and appreciated the view of the rolling mountains and green valleys below as well as the, uh, good air. I stretched out and gazed up at the clear blue sky fringed by the coconut palm tree edging into my view. Tio, exhausted, pulled up a piece of earth and took a nap, using a stone for a pillow. I’m not sure if he had any Jacob-like dreams of biblical prophesy, but he gave me the chance to take what will now be one of my favorite pictures from this year.