one of those days

Yesterday was one of those days that just couldn´t seem to shake off the grumpies. I woke up at 5:30 and by 6:00 was ready to meet the community leader I was to accompany down to town. It was pouring outside and cold and my bed had been so warm and not rainy. I decided to wait until he came to get me, thinking that we would probably wait until the rain stopped. About an hour and a half later the rain still hadn´t stopped and he sent his daughter over to tell me that we should get going anyway. On my way over to his house I almost stepped on a baby chicken and Mama Chicken actually attacked me. I had never been attacked by a chicken before, it was a very effective jump and peck to the leg. We soon started down the mountain with his cargo of lulo, a fruit that I had never encountered until Colombia and don´t know what name it goes by back home. I do know that it is super delicious and I might be addicted to it. The rain finally let up about half way down, giving me a charming damp-sweaty steam for the rest of the walk.

When the chivero finally came we began our descent into town and soon found out from our fellow travelers that another civilian had been killed the night before. The young man, father of five young children, had been shot in broad daylight around 1pm while playing pool right next to the bus terminal, one of the busiest spots in Apartadó. As folks were recounting what they knew of his death the chivero stopped and the man´s wife, children and father got on in order to go claim his body and make funeral arrangements. Just the look on their faces was enough to break my heart. As far as anyone can tell, this man was a decent, hard-working campesino with no obvious reasons to be targeted by paramilitary gunmen. And his kids were all so young, the oldest about 9. My heart kept breaking as I listened to all the other folks in the chivero explain in detail where they needed to go, who they needed to talk to, how the Red Cross would help with an affordable funeral, etc... This has all happened before and everyone seems to be able to give advice. It definitely put my grumpy and damp morning into perspective.

Later that day the leader I was accompanying talked about how he hadn´t been able to stop thinking about what his family would go through if something happened to him. Clearly, this thought is always in the background of his daily at-risk life, but seeing the fresh pain of the mourning family brings it rushing to the fore. And so the war is always unfolding and effecting lives in ways that reveal themselves in a sudden and harsh realizations. For me, a moment of heart-breaking awareness hit while sitting knee to knee with a young woman who had just lost her husband and the father of their children to a violence unafraid to widow a woman, orphan a child, or make people experts in the details of death.