24 May 2015

24 May 2015

I wanted to write today's entry with a different focus. In past entries I have spent a good deal of time discussing the problems and questions encountered here. But today I want to draw out the beauty of Colombia and of humanity that I have encountered on this trip. I will also catch you up on the week, naturally, but I hope to do more.

One of the beautiful things about the heat and humidity on the Colombian coast is that plants grow everywhere. Within 15 years abandoned buildings have vines and plants all through them. Trees spring up on plains, over mountains, by rivers, next to homes, the regular rains providing enough water for them to grow anywhere. Where humans or animals don't regularly travel, the ground is covered in grass, shrubbery, and general greenery. On Monday Jorge and I took a hike through one of the greenest parts of the coast, the Alta Montaña (high mountain). The hills aren't very high compared to the Rockies, but they make up for it in pure green – dark where the trees cover the curiously steep hills, light where rain or sun have made clearings for grass, neat rows of green where farmers have made clearings for corn or yuca. I only hope the picture does it justice.

The Alta Montaña, from our hike

Thursday brought another adventure, prior to a workshop, in Mampuján. In 2000 the entire town was forced to leave their homes by a paramilitary group for supposedly aiding and abetting rebel guerrillas. There is no way to justify such displacement in any context, but to make matters worse townsfolk say that most of them never aided the guerrillas except for giving them food when threatened at gunpoint. Nevertheless, the townsfolk stuck together and established a new town by the side of the nearby highway, just a few miles from their original town. There, under the protection of the municipal seat, they have build a new life and some beautiful homes thanks to victims' reparation money from the national government. On Thursday we went to visit the old town, an eerily quiet ghost town with about ten inhabitants. We walked through houses covered in vines and bushes and pondered what it would be like to leave this ancestral home and start fresh. A humbling experience.

Then, on Friday, I was privileged to attend an inter-religious meeting over breakfast at SembrandoPaz. It really was a privilege – the religious leaders who were invited were genuinely interested in promoting dialogue and peace throughout the region, and they spoke with respect and eagerness to get something done. Ricardo Esquivia, ever the diplomatic leader, made sure to guide the meeting in a productive direction; in this case it was a forum, to be hosted at the largest local university with the help of a Catholic priest who works there. I was so pleased to see this small city starting such an open-minded and inclusive project: they have involved agnostics, Jews, indigenous shamans, Mormons, Episcopalians, Catholics, Protestants, Mennonites, and more. If all the world were capable of such meetings, many of our problems would be quietly resolved.

A peaceful evening with a fine group
of people, in El Carmen de Bolivar

But much of the beauty of Colombia has been its simple, gracious humanity. Just last night a sweet family offered me their biggest bed for the night while several of them slept in hammocks. Indeed, I've been treated like family out here many times, offered food or drink and called at the end of the journey to make sure I arrived safe. The other day I was riding in the back of a pickup truck with some friendly villagers; when I ask them what they liked about Colombia, without skipping a beat they said, "Everything." I love that pride – they know it's not perfect, but they love their home. I also love the fact that I could sit around with some friends the other night and talk about football/soccer for two hours, drying on every scrap of football knowledge I've gained since I started following it in high school. In fact, I have seen much that moves me here: memorials to village members who were massacred during the conflict, a young woman recounting how she felt like she had many mothers in the town because they all worried about her safety, a father who drives his bus home late from the big city to be with his family, a mother gushing about her daughter in the states and how much she misses her, youth determines to build parks in their communities (never knowing how much work it takes), and so much more. I have been offered much by people I barely know, for people here live the call to become brothers and sisters to everyone, to love like family. May I carry a portion of that spirit back to the states with me, and may it take root and grow into a towering tree of love and life.