FOR stands in solidarity with the LA RUTA PACIFICA DE LAS MUJERES (Pacifist Road of Women). We recognize the great significance behind the assassination of leaders who promote non-violence and reject the deaths, threats, and intimidation tactics that are heavly rooted in the continous Colombian internal conflict. Please see below for information on the assasination of a member of the Ruta Pacifica along with her loved ones.


Translated version from IFOR-WPP:

The social movement of feminist-pacifist women demands respect for the life and the dignity of women

La Ruta Pacifica de Las Mujeres- or the Pacific Road of Women- rejects the murder of one of their members in Medellin.

It was a paradox. While La Ruta Pacifica was launching the book ‘violences against women in a society in war’ in Medellín, one of its members- Olga Marina Vergara- was murdered, together with her son, daughter-in-law and grandson- a child of five years old.

Bogotá, 25 of September 2008. - In circumstances that proof the ignominy of violence and the degradation of society, Olga Marina Vergara, member of the Pacific Routeof the Women was assassinated in Medellín. This feminist and pacifist leader known for her work with women in the ancient capital was murdered together with her son, daughter-in-law and grandson in her own house in the section of Prado - East Center, Wednesday 24 of September.

‘These deaths and this massacre are inadmissible. The Pacific Route of the Women, a political feminist project working for the visibilization of the effects of the war on the lives of women, rejects categorically these events, which demonstrate once again the degradation of the war and society. The conditions and circumstances, in which they happened, are of extreme gravity. It is therefore that we insist towards the authorities that they investigate and determine the motives for what happened’, indicated Marina Gallego Zapata, National Coordinator of the Pacific Route of the Women.

Also, the Coordinator of the movement emphasized that the Pacific Route of the Women continues and persists in their struggle so that the subject of violence against the women does not just appear in public agendas as circumstantial news. ‘Our interest is to establish an ethical and political commitment to finish with impunity and the social allowance towards violence that is committed against women, the more in the situation of conflict that our country is facing’.

To reject the murder of Olga Marina Vergara and three of her family members, social feminist organizations of the country (part of the Pacific Route) unite. These organizations work together for a negotiated transmission of the armed conflict in Colombia and for the visibilization of the effects of the war on the lives of women.

These same organizations express their solidarity and support to the family of Olga Marina Vargara.

Spanish Version:
LA RUTA PACIFICA DE LAS MUJERES RECHAZA EL ASESINATO DE UNA DE SUS INTEGRANTES EN MEDELLIN

Paradójicamente, mientras La Ruta presentaba en Bogotá el libro 'Las violencias contra las mujeres en una sociedad en guerra', en Medellín una de sus integrantes fue masacrada junto a su hijo, nuera y nieto, un menor de cinco años de edad.

Bogotá, 25 de Septiembre de 2008. – En circunstancias que evidencian la ignominia de la violencia y la degradación de la sociedad, fue asesinada en Medellín la integrante de la Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres, Olga Marina Vergara.

Esta líder feminista y pacifista, de amplia trayectoria en la capital antioqueña por su trabajo en favor de las mujeres, fue masacrada junto con su hijo, nuera y nieto en su propia casa en el sector de Prado – Centro este miércoles 24 de septiembre.

'Estas muertes y esta masacre son inadmisibles. Es así como la Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres, propuesta política feminista que trabaja por la visibilización de los efectos de la guerra en la vida de las mujeres, rechaza categóricamente estos hechos, que demuestran una vez más la degradación de la guerra y de la sociedad, pues las condiciones y las circunstancias en las que ocurrieron, son de suma gravedad. Es asícomo instamos a las autoridades a investigar y determinar los móviles de lo sucedido', señaló Marina Gallego Zapata, coordinadora Nacional de la Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres.

Asimismo, la Coordinadora del movimiento enfatizó que la Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres continúa y persiste en la búsqueda para que el tema de las violencias contra las mujeres no se quede en agendas públicas de turno y como noticias circunstanciales. 'Nuestro interés es establecer un compromiso ético y político para terminar con la impunidad y la permisividad social acerca de las violencias que se ejerce contra las mujeres y más en la situación de conflicto que enfrenta nuestro país'.

A este rechazo por el asesinato de Olga Marina Vergara y tres miembros de su familia se unen las organizaciones sociales feministas del país que convergen en la Ruta Pacífica de las Mujeres, las cuales trabajan conjuntamente por la tramitación negociada del conflicto armado en Colombia y por la visibilización de los efectos de la guerra en la vida de las mujeres.

Estas mismas organizaciones expresan su solidaridad y acompañamiento a la familia de Olga Marina Vergara.

Por un hogar, un país, un planeta libre de miedos, guerras y violencias

RUTA PACIFICA DE LAS MUJERES - *ANTIOQUIA - (4)2844079. *BOGOTA – (1)2229172/76 *BOLIVAR - (5)6663992 * CAUCA - (2)8317939. *CHOCO - (4)6713804. *PUTUMAYO - (8)4274058. *RISARALDA - (6)3332042. *SANTANDER - (7)6477559. *VALLE DEL CAUCA - (2)8854656. *COORDINACION EJECUTIVA NACIONAL – (1) 2229145 / 46 Fax: (1) 2229170

Pagina web: www.rutapacifica.org.co / E-mail: comunicaciones@rutapacifica.org.co

For almost four months now I have been working for the Fellowship of Reconciliation living here in rural Colombia with the Peace Community of San Jose de Apartado. Looking back on my time thus far, I am overwhelmed by the numerous encounters and adventures, relationships and lessons that have been dictating my experience here, that have been shaping my life. However, as I begin to piece together something linear, or even comprehensible, of this montage of events and feelings, I find it difficult to sum up in words this spattering of images and ideas, people and places that have been influencing me and now flood my mind. In short, there is no place in the world that can compare to living amidst the peasant farmers (campesinos) of a Peace Community in the middle of a conflict zone.

Here are some thoughts I had at the end of July after about two months of my time here in Colombia, followed by a more recent update of my life and work, which inevitably have been intertwined. I struggled in determining whether or not to share some of these earlier thoughts as I feel that my eyes have been opened more and more each day, and that it has taken some time to fully understand and evaluate what I have been experiencing here in the Peace Community. Nonetheless, coupled with my current understandings, I hope that these stories and reflections provide some insight into the life of an international accompanier in the Peace Community of San Jose de Apartado.

27 July 2008

I have realized that the longer that I am here, the more that I am losing all since of time. The days seem to all flow together and I can never keep track of the dates. My only useful tool of time keeping these days is the sun. And even then, I can be easily deceived by the clouds lingering for the next thunderstorm. However, in compensation for this fading sense of mine, somehow my sense of direction seems to slowly be improving. Learning to rely more on my instincts than ever before, I am beginning to trust myself and my orientation. Paths are becoming more familiar as are hills and fields. I even am distinguishing between new footprints and old ones, the outlines of different boots, and even the freshness of animal dung. My survival skills are developing each day as I discover what fruits, nuts and plants along the paths are safe to consume and which are best for alleviating all sorts of ailments. As I walk along the muddy, rocky paths, my feet seem to be more comfortable taking steps with less caution. I hardly even think now as I take my strides to dance along the tops of the rocks and avoid the hidden mud traps that before were prone to entrap me and my boots. The campesina in me is slowly developing day by day.

In my past two months here, I have become accustomed to the norms of communication in this village as per knowing the appropriate areas for discussion in order that I have begun developing meaningful relationships here. Not only is living in el campo simply another world than the modern urban lifestyle, but also living in the midst of war-torn peace community provides its own inevitable complications. From former family members to future family planning, these seemingly ordinary subjects of conversation at times become intensely invasive topics, as would be when inquiring about war casualties.

Besides the sensitivity of many average matters, one has to cultivate the ability to communicate a certain level of understanding when in reality it is truly impossible for any outsider to ever fully comprehend the realities of this community. In this struggle for empathy arises the invitation of trust that can be extended to some foreigners on an individual basis. Although FOR has developed a meaningful and working relationship with the community having been living here for the past six years, there nonetheless remain distinctions amongst the various teammates. As certain volunteers have formed deeper connections than others, each one endeavors personally to create strong bonds with members and leaders of the community, even with those who lack amiable relationships amongst themselves.

Noting these conditions, I have begun developing significant relationships within the community. My initial conversations about work and family have been leading me into deeper issues with certain individuals. While the line of trust continues to be a fragile one, I have been able to cross this delicacy slowly and intentionally. There is one young woman of the PC that lives in another village about two hours from mine. In our limited encounters, we have begun cultivating a true friendship for which I am very grateful. As her husband is in the official leadership council of the community, my friend cannot help but also be one of the informal leaders and therefore with an equally valuable perspective.

As our friendship has been developing, I had been eager to find an opportunity to begin asking some deeper questions about her life, her story and her insights. One night, I found myself in a more private conversation with my friend, and so we began talking more openly about the true situation here on the ground with the PC. We had just visited her family in their home a few days earlier as we were completing an accompaniment with a few community members involved in the project of organic production of the PC. But now the moment was different as we were sitting alone on a bench outside of one of the homes watching the evening rain, the conversation moved from comfortably casual to intimately personal. Maybe because of the time we had passed together in her home and the moments we had spent with her daughters and husband, she felt free to ask about my feelings about working with the community, as she was ready to express her own. Sharing with me her fears and concerns, she opened up to me about her past and current struggles as a community member, as well as the genuine belief she holds in their goals. I began to share with her about an experience we had had on the way back from visiting her home recently:

While we were making the rounds with the visitors for the organic project, we encountered some armed actors on one of the mountains. As we were climbing up one slope, four uniformed soldiers were trotting down with their guns slung across their shoulders. Although it is not uncommon to find military soldiers amidst the jungles of the countryside, these meetings are still not pleasant surprises. However this time was different. The manner in which they swiftly descended the mountainside, the small campesino-like physiques and appearances, and most distinctly, the lone female in the group all immediately revealed that these were not military soldiers we were facing, but rebel guerrillas. As this was my first and only occasion thus far to meet a member of the FARC in the zone, I watched the others and followed their cues, my heart beating excitedly in my chest. Without many words or exchanges, the first two males and then the female guerrilla passed alongside our group, but the fourth man stopped and waited for us to approach. For the next ten minutes, we listened to him speak about the political goals of the FARC and how he was struggling to achieve them. He not only offered his respect to the Peace Community for their political separation from the state, but also acknowledged the value of the international accompaniment. As we bade farewell and continued on our journey over the hill, I stopped and turned to watch them walk away. Replaying this rebel's discourse over and over in my mind, I kept evaluating what it was that finally motivated this campesino to take up a gun and join the FARC. What had the state done that had pushed him over the edge and compelled him to fight back with violence. From the stories I had heard from the Peace Community itself, I could only imagine that some in justice against this man would have been highly possible.

Although hesitant, I was not afraid to share this story with her, but rather I felt eased by the familiarity with which she seemed to receive my words. Even though that encounter with the guerrilla in the countryside had been quite unique for me, my friend of no more than thirty years had also had her own fair share of unlikely run-ins with the armed groups in the jungle. Out of a desire to comfort me or maybe from a need to share her own story and be comforted herself, my friend began recounting to me a day in her life that she will never forget, and one that I will now will always carry with me. As she spoke, the rain poured harder and harder, almost protecting our conversation and muffling our voices with the intensity of the sound of the water hitting the tin roofs. And she began. About five years, she had been out with her husband working on their farm in the afternoon while her mother and a neighbor were at home watching her youngest of three daughters. As was seemingly normal, some guerrilla soldiers passed by the home demanding food, water and basic supplies. Not too long after, the military also came by the home in pursuit of those very same guerrillas. Pressuring the mother and the neighbor to inform of the whereabouts of the rebels, the two campesinos refused to speak as is part of the Peace Community's principle of neutrality in which they do not pass information about the war from one armed group to another. The military soldiers were dissatisfied with this lack of responses and therefore started accusing these Peace Community members of being involved with the FARC. Out of fear and without thinking, the neighbor suddenly decided to flee from these interrogations and avoid further retribution. However, as the military started shooting at him as he was running away, they had not seen my friend's young daughter of only a few years who had innocently followed him in his attempted escape and had unknowingly put herself in the line of fire. The soldiers' shots in that moment that brought down the neighbor were also the very ones that took the life of my friend's little girl.

I could feel the tensity of her voice in the tightening of my skin as she spoke. Her head hit her hands as she could no longer hold back her tears, forcing her to pause for a moment. Overcome with sympathy, I reached out to my friend and held her as she continued her story as she cried. It was as if making herself retell and relive this painful memory yet one more time would help to remember and reclaim all that she had lost that day. The rain flowed heavily now with our tears as slowly yet steadily, she recounted the next steps. Having heard the gun shots, my friend ran the hour-long distance back to her home only to find her mother weeping alone in the home with blood on her clothes. Her young daughter and the neighbor were already being transported in hammocks to the nearest town to seek help, but the mother admitted how grave was the daughter's status. With patient determinedness, my friend completed her story through long breaths and silent tears, recalling how she had learned that her daughter had not survived the journey to town but had passed away soon after the shooting.

We sat in silence listening to the storm. My arm around my friend's shoulder, I was unsure of what to say or how to comfort her. All I knew in that moment is that my work with FOR had been permanently affected by that conversation, that my life had been forever changed by my friend. What is there to say to someone who has experienced such a terrible loss? How is one to comfort such a tragically stricken individual? And that is exactly why my friend is a part of this community, because almost every person in the Peace Community has a similar story of the loss of a loved one, of a threat on his or her own life and of a desire to seek peace amidst such horrific violence. Therefore, this is where the comfort lies: in the solidarity of the campesinos that seek peace and in the hope of a community that struggles for a future.

And this is exactly what makes the persistent existence of the Peace Community so incredible. The fact that these campesinos believe enough in the pursuits of peace and justice that they continue this pursuit with the memories of these atrocities and in the face of fear that more may be just around the corner each day.

And that is exactly what makes the work of FOR so worthwhile. That we uphold and respect the principles and values of the community so much that we are willing to come and live alongside of them. This is no ordinary human rights work that we are doing here in el campo; this is about literally standing up in the face of impunity with the community in order to prevent just one more death, one more atrocity, and one more displacement in the PC. While other international accompaniment groups in the zone operate from living outside of the community, FOR strives to retain the ability to remain an uninvolved observer while living in the midst of the community. Therefore we have the privilege of witnessing firsthand the realities of life within this community, within this war zone. Over the past eleven years of the lifespan of the PC, very few outsiders have had such the honor of observing and evaluating such insights. Analyzing security from the perspective of the public or from the views of the leaders allows for only a glimpse of the true situation that we see day to day with our own eyes from our home in the community and that we constantly hear from the farmers and from their children and grandparents that live as our neighbors. No news article nor censored conversation can compare with the depth of understanding that we gain from experiencing life amidst the conflict-affected campesinos.

However, the effectiveness of international accompaniment does rely on the credibility of the neutral observer. Therefore the concept of non-interference into the affairs of the community is crucial, despite how involved emotionally I may become. Even though I live within the community, I will never be able to become one of the community members. As real as my relationships become, I will also be set apart as outsiders because of the nature of my work. The very distinctions that set me apart from the community are the ones that make me most effective at my job. The nationality of my passport, the color of my skin and the language of my homeland - all these attributes that prevent me from fully integrating are the very tools that enable me to do this work.

In truth, there are constant concerns here in the community about yet another massacre attempting to destroy their lives; however, the reality is that this anxiety alone has the power to deteriorate life if one is not aware of and prepared for its presence. And it is in this conscientiousness that the community finds it greatest strength: unifying against all imminent threats from the surrounding forces that try to tear it apart. But here also lies the most vulnerable weakness, in that the community must rely on each individual to take an outward stance against the inevitable injustices by making such a strong commitment to the cultivation of peace. Because each member of the Peace Community must contribute to its endurance in order to maintain each one's own survival, the significance of each member is heightened. By intertwining various factors of loyalty and subsistence, ones life becomes just as dependent on the community as the community is dependent on the individuals. Therefore, the support must be mutual. If the community is not willing to reach out to the weaker members, then someone or something else will. And if this happens, then the results can be grave for everyone in the group.

This is precisely why the community will gather together in the face of their enemies at times in order to resist the outside forces that desire to penetrate into the community. A couple of months ago, the humanitarian aid extension of the state decided to come to LU to host a meeting in the village's school. This organization called Accion Social (AS) has begun working in the zone in order to demonstrate their support for this war torn region. However, the Peace Community is neither ignorant of the state's actual intentions to establish its presence within the community, nor is it willing to collaborate with the state which has been behind so many atrocities committed against the community. Therefore on this day of the proposed AS meeting, the community leaders called together their members for a sit-in at the school in order to prevent any official meeting of the state to take place. The community was infuriated that the state believed that it did not need permission to enter into the community when in reality the Inter-American Court as well as the Colombian Constitutional Court have both recognized that the rules and parameters of the Peace Community, including the right to deny access to the community by all actors in the conflict, must be respected by all entities, even the state itself. For about an hour, the community members were in a test of wills with the men from AS to see who would concede first. One community leader repeatedly told AS how the Peace Community, how these campesinos had been living and working in this area for eleven years and were by no means going to relinquish their space now or leave in the face of the state. Eventually, AS decided to pack up and leave the community, after which the community promptly put a lock on the door of the school building to prevent any further attempts of intruding. Whether it was the insistence of the community leader or the strength in numbers of the community members, the Peace Community was yet again able to peacefully hold its ground.

Despite these moments of seemingly minimal achievements, each community member is nevertheless at all times vulnerable to the temptations of those who would want to harm the community; therefore the community must look after their own. And these risks only become heightened when there is an absence of support. A sick man physically cannot work to feed his family of five kids and a pregnant wife, so therefore must look to other options to find that provision. Not only does everyone within the community know what is going on all the time amongst their neighbors, but also the hidden onlookers scattered throughout the hillsides are constantly aware of the status of the community, watching and waiting for possible openings for intrusion. A hopelessly poor campesino embodies the ideal target for a bribe in exchange for sending provisions to the rebels or for providing false testimony against the community to the state. These armed actors patiently await such golden opportunities when a community member may fall along the fringes, becoming inevitably susceptible to desperate measures.

Yet the Peace Community is altogether very familiar with these dynamics and is all too dependent on the value of the members to neglect to support fellow campesinos. It is this consistent outreach to each member that reinforces both the strength and the lifespan of the community.

26 September 2008

As my thoughts are constantly filled with the situation of the Colombian conflict, the physical security of these campesinos and the politic work of FOR, I look around and realize that while these community members themselves are likewise contemplating these same concerns, the Peace Community does not subsist solely focusing on their means for survival. Of course each individual carries the burden of supporting the family and of upholding the community's principles, yet the value of the lives of the campesinos does not rest merely in the fact that they have been able to overcome and to persist despite all odds and regardless of all those who may threaten their existence. Their true value and the deeper meaning of this Peace Community lies in the fact that these campesinos not only continue to struggle for peaceful neutrality within a war zone that does not allow for a lack of allegiance to one group, but also that they demand to live with both dignity and joy.

Although never forgetting from where they have come and always remembering what may lie ahead, these campesinos will not settle to survive with a paralyzing fear, but rather choose to live within a collection of unique and significant individuals that create a thriving and sustainable community. From educational opportunities to economic prospects and from soccer competitions to campo dances, all of these aspects of the community contribute to its effectiveness, in that the members can find success and development and even can discover joy and fulfillment. While always considering in the back of their minds the reality of imminent political and physical threats, these peace-seeking campesinos demonstrate the meaning of their community by the persistence of their struggle and the depth of their existence.

Through all of the unexpected, intense and eye-opening experiences that I have had, I believe that I have only come closer to understanding this intentional depth, as it is composed of endless contributions and expressions of the individuals of the Peace Community. Even though I already feel as if I have encountered head-on almost every significant aspect of life in the rural community, I am reminded each day that there is still so much to discover. From learning more about how to organically cultivate our own garden using cacao shells and chili powder, to how to carry wooden planks on top of my shoulders all the way down the mountain in order to prevent the bats from living in our roof, I feel a bit more at home down on the farm, however lacking in my machete-chopping skills I still may be. Climbing trees to pick ripe guavas without worms, crossing high waters in the river, buying eggs from my neighbors and burning our bathroom rubbish all feel fairly routine. Between the daily tasks of living, conversations with visitors and those that host me, and working in the office on analysis and documents, I keep busy with the seemingly consistent schedule of community life.

And as always, I am still making frequent trips around the zone and into town for accompaniments, visits and meetings that also keep me busy. A trip to town alone requires about one and half hours of hiking down to the first main town and then about another 45 minutes on the jeep into the city. It may seem like quite an adventure simply to go check your email, but I have now become very fond of the road up to our village, La Union, and very familiar with each river crossing and short cut along the way.

However, I never let myself get to jaded by the normalcy of a day or two, because each new day always promises something out of the ordinary. Whether it be unexpected and unwelcomed visitors into the community or an urgent trip to the town or another settlement, a random dance at night or a last minute invitation to a cacao cultivation, I wake each morning wondering what the day will bring. A few weeks ago now, I had such a day of weighty surprises.

As per usual, I woke up one morning and crawled out of my mosquito net. After about fifteen minutes of getting myself ready in our house, I skipped across the path over to the kitchen in our other house to make some tea and breakfast. Other than the fact that my colleagues had left earlier that morning to head down to town for the day, everything else that morning proceeded as normal. Singing to my music as I prepared some oatmeal, I was visited by one of my neighbors who often passes by in the mornings. However, this time was different. She first exchanged with me the typical initial greetings but there was a different tone in her voice that day. In few words and with little hesitation, she informed me that military soldiers were descending down from the hills into the community at the very moment. Somewhat shocked and fairly discombobulated, I flipped off the stove and ran over to our house to gather my things. Throwing on the brightest blue FOR t-shirt I could find, I grabbed a pen, paper and my phone and sprinted blatantly across the canyon over to the hill where I could see the soldiers passing alongside of a home of one of the community members.

As I traversed the shallow river, my blue shirt and white skin demanded the attention of the soldiers, who stopped to watch me. Almost all of them had already come down from the hillside and were already entering into the caserio (collection of homes) of the community. Continuing my climb over to the other side of the community to perch myself visibly on the hillside, I found the community member sitting outside of her home waiting as the soldiers finished passing by. As we watched the line of about 15-20 soldiers swiftly passing through the homes and continuing on down along the trail out of the village, I tossed my phone to my friend and asked her to help me find the spot of minimal cell phone reception in her home. Knowing I needed to make immediate contact with my other teammates, I had expected to be able to use my cell phone at this home, where often we have been able to find signal to make calls. As my friend struggled and failed to find the phone signal, which as always was not reliable, I once again jetted back to my house to grab our satellite phone to call my teammates in Bogota to notify them of the situation.

Yet I noticed something odd while running across the canyon and around the houses back to home. I finally realized that the strange ambiance that morning was reinforced by the absence of the normal morning bustle around the community. Generally in the mornings, the houses have their doors open, their stereos blasting and their inhabitants wondering about preparing to head out to the farms to work. However, this morning was starkly different. The doors were closed, the houses were silent and no one was moving around. Everyone had shut themselves securely inside their homes that morning, waiting nervously for the intruders to leave. Only after I had made the call to Bogota and began walking around to make my international presence visible in the community and to visit people did I start to see individuals slowly and hesitantly reemerging out of their homes. As I strolled from house to house, I could feel everyone's eyes following me. Confirming with people my concern about the situation as I had relayed the news to my teammates, I spoke with many community members who were perched on their porches, monitoring the hills and almost instinctively expecting something more. Scared and anxious, these campesinos were now on edge awaiting to know if more soldiers would appear from the mountain sides and invade their homes, as had happened in the past when the military was involved in the massacre of six Peace Community leaders in 2000.

Thankfully, this occasion was different. No more soldiers entered into the community that day. No one had been harmed by any of the intruders. And no threats had been directly spoken against any of the community members. But these factors alone did not appease the fears of the campesinos. The mere action of violating the Peace Community's principles by entering into the community was sufficient to demonstrate their vulnerability to penetration by outsiders and the freshness of their memories of past tragedies. These reactions are both constant reminders to the community that they never know what is going to happen, much less what can happen any day. For the first time with my work with FOR did I feel that I was actually doing my job: providing international accompaniment in the presence of armed actors in order to prevent injustices against the Peace Community. Nonetheless once again, no one knew what was going to happen, what could have happened that day.

The more time I spend in the Peace Community, the more these experiences allow me to delve more into my relationships here. Whether it be the amount of time or the actual experiences themselves that are bringing us closer, I feel drawn into a new level of trust and respect with the community members. Despite the circumstances that may be creating this deeper connection, I am grateful for the acceptance I am given from the campesinos.

There are plenty of arguments that one could (and I would) make for ending all U.S. military aid to Colombia, many of which are based upon human rights concerns. Given the unlikelihood of that in the near future, however, folks like me concerned about the involvement of U.S. policy in human rights abuses and continued violence in Colombia sometimes make use of a provision of U.S. law that does

I've received many inquires from my faithful blog readers about why I haven't posted in over two weeks. My excuse, dear readers, is a visitor from the States and vacation. Not much time was left to post, I have to admit! It meant a lot to be able to share my life here with someone from my life before I came to Colombia: to show him just how muddy the trail to our village is, how sweet the coffee

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At 10am on Friday, July 18, a crowd of about 300 people composed of mothers, children, grandparents, uncles, and human rights defenders gathered to create a space in the streets and march with a unified voice. The individuals gathered because they wanted to voice out their dissatisfaction with the government and its existing policies that have consistently failed to provide for the almost 4 million displaced people in the country.

The crowd stood in one of Medellin’s street corners, listening to a representative of the Coordinación Metropolitana de Desplazados (Metropolitan Coordination for the Displaced) speak about the failure of law of 397 of 1997. This law was approved eleven years ago and stipulates in Article 3 that “the Colombian State has the responsibility to formulate and adopt policies and measures to prevent forced displacement and the responsibility to protect and provide a socio-economic consolidation and stabilization to those who have bee internally displaced due to violence“ (http://www.secretariasenado.gov.co/leyes/L0387_97.HTM). But, all those individuals present were there because they have seen very little evidence of the application of such law given that since its approval, the number of displaced people in Colombia has been on the rise.

The many faces, most of them with empty stomachs, started walking towards the city center and made their way across the crowed street on their way to the Plaza Botero. They chanted the words “Forced Displacement is a State Policy! “ The participants wanted to remind the Colombian State that they continue to be walking proof of the existing crisis in the country. Some of them live in the city of Medellin (which is supposed to be one of the main cities that have gone through great improvements since Uribe took office as president, in isolation from any of their basic rights. In actuality, Medellin is still a home to many victims of abuse and violence, including the control of the Paramilitary in the different sectors of the mountainous city. There are numerous slums on the outskirts of the city, the so-called Comunas, where people live in degrading conditions, with rooftops made up of scraps of aluminum, or broken pieces of wood. Hunger, thus, is the common denominator, plainly evident when you ride the metro cable cart and look down to the houses and wonder what happens inside those colorful squares on rainy days, or even worse what happens there day to day? Most of the displaced people have been forced to find shelters in cities such as Medellin and Bogota, and since most of them have roots as peasants in rural settings they lack the skills necessary to live in urban environments, where little opportunity exists for them in the job market.

At about noon, hundreds more joined the march, many who originated from the rural areas all across state of Antioquia. They came to march and remind the observers and the State that they are still displaced and hungry, and above all, disappointed with the lack of support and options for them to change their status and improve their quality of life. They are disappointed with the lack of judicial mechanisms have not succeeded in ensuring that their rights are not being violated and the lack of policies that in practical terms can guarantee adequate forms of reparation, reconciliation, and collective healing for the displaced.

It has been three years since the Justice and Peace Law of 2005 was passed and applied as a form of judicial way out for paramilitary demobilization. In the meantime those displaced because of the violence have been waiting for the victimizers to return the property and material goods--all that was lost through threats and violence.. Nonetheless, no real or effective form of reparation has been implemented . The victims of the violence that forced them to displace know that their relatives that were killed and buried in mass graves cannot be returned to them and that no form of reparation can bring back their dead; however, they at least expect to once again be able to live in their homes and receive guarantees to their life and safety. As of now, a shift in their current status seems like a distance possibility.

According to the Justice and Peace Division of the Attorney General’s office, only 793 millions of Colombian pesos have been turned in by the paramilitaries out of the almost 545,000 millions they committed themselves to return (http://www.terra.com.co/actualidad/articulo/html/acu13532.htm). Moreover, it seems quite ridiculous to even mention that they have only returned 10 vehicles, 5,166 livestock, and 99 houses that have been given to the State when we compare it to the almost 4 million hectares of land lost by the displaced population (without even mentioning the value of goods, property, and the family heritage, which is priceless). According to a study done by researches in the Andes University in Bogota, 94.% of the Colombian population lives under the poverty line and almost 75% of them are displaced (https://egresados.uniandes.edu.co/volver3/documentos/presentacion-ana-maria-ib.ppt).
As I stood there, a man about 50 years old man asked “Are you also displaced?“ He explained that he came from Argelia (in Antioquia) and that he and his family of three have been displaced for six years. They lost all their land, their livestock, and their crops. Now, they live in the outskirts of Medellin in conditions he described as “a cardboard box full of holes“.

The Asociasion Campesina de Antioquia (Peasant Association of Antioquia) invited FOR to observe the march as they find it important that the international community not ignore the internal crisis that defines the Colombian State. They want to make sure that the displaced people do not become more invisible than what they already are, given the current news of the government defeating the FARC and the release of the hostages, as they get lost in middle of the parapolitical scandals and the propaganda for Uribe´s next reelection. Displaced people are also a kind of hostage--a hostage that is held prisoner by poverty, by the chains manifested through the dangers they face day to day, by the illnesses and hunger chained to their bodies, and by the existing conflict that prevents them from safely returning to their land. They are held hostages in a society that does not make room for them to live a life with access to decent housing, healthcare, education, and sustenance.

Alongside FOR, stood Peace Brigades International and other non-governmental organizations. Nonetheless, the media coverage was practically non-existent, which only exemplifies the fact that such news are not a matter of importance to mainstream communication.

Please visit the video put together by the Communications Area of the Peasant Association of Antioquia (ACA): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNmCO_v63KA

It was just a taste! But yes, folks, Moira the vegetarian ate not just meat, but a piece of wild boar. Tatabra is what it’s called around here, and from time to time the men go hunting with their dogs, most often when they are in some of the more remote veredas (see my last post for an explanation of veredas). At the right is one of the hunters dressing the very same tatabra that I tried (I

"AUC”. The letters were very clearly drawn on the wall of the house in charcoal from a cooking fire. The clear, sharp outline of the letters was a clear indication that the writer or writers just recently left their mark. Perhaps the same individuals had been the ones who scratched “AUC 14” into the cement stove of the house we had just visited. Concern was evident in the faces and voices of

I've been both very busy in the last week and a half and not near internet, so haven't had time to post here, but given all the questions I've been getting about the rescue of the 15 hostages from the FARC, I thought it would be good to check in and make a few comments. First, I am fine and we are not all that worried that the rescue will have negative repercussions for us and our work. Thanks

The other day my dad sent me an article about Colombian president Álvaro Uribe in the Wall Street Journal (text of article is copied below since the Journal has subscriber-only access) by Mary Anastasia O’Grady and asked for some feedback. Though the article overflowed with praise for Uribe, I could hardly contain my disgust. Granted, I didn’t like Uribe all that much before I read the article,

Over the past three weeks that I have been living here in the Peace Community (PC), I have been settling in well to this new way of life. Not only have I learned how to scrub my clothes by hand, clean the drinking water filter and weed our garden with a machete, but I have also been discovering more and more about the purpose of this community and of my work within it as an international accompanier and human rights observer. On the outset, life in this rural village may seem fairly simple. Each day in order to live, these farmers (los campesinos) have to work in the field (la finca), mainly with tiny bananas and cacao, take care of the household duties and prepare the daily food for the family. However, as basic as these tasks may appear, the complexities run so much deeper than an outsider can imagine before taking a deeper look into the meaning and the innerworkings of this place. Life in this PC is not just the hardwork of el campesino, but is moreso a collective struggle for survival in which las fincas contain more than just bananas and cacao, the homes house more than merely immediate relationships and the family needs more than food and water in order to persist day by day. Each aspect of daily living is made that much more intensely difficult because of this intentional decision to create life here in the PC. The PC is more than a group of campesinos living communally; it is the best alternative for neutral living within this area of conflict.

Each factor of life in the PC affects every other part. A relationship one has may either positively or negatively affect another. A decision one makes may drastically change one's life. Catching a cold can have a severe impact on one's ability to work, as to work is to survive. Making the commitment to live within the PC for these campesinos means declaring to uphold the values and the purpose of this lifestyle, despite all other variables that try to influence one's life. In order to live within the PC, an individual has to commit to live by three main principles:

1. Not to participate in the war either directly or indirectly;
2. Not to carry arms;
3. And to participate in a collective work group within the community.

While these basic tenets may seem somewhat simple to understand as well as easy to maintain, the ability to continuously carry out these concepts in reality can become an intense struggle between ultimate survival and a call for peace. Although these precepts have been established to sustain life in this area, the true manifestation of peace has time and again been compromised by more or less external factors. Once again, each aspect of life dramatically influences another. For instance, the decisions one makes about to whom to sell the crops or the relationships one has with people outside of the PC are two contributing components to the reality of the complications. The PC was created eleven years ago on the 23rd of March in 1997 to provide refuge for displaced persons (desplazados) in search of a way to live separately from while inevitably surrounded by the armed conflict. However, this attempt at peaceful neutrality is not finalized by one's membership in the PC, as over the past eleven years have there been about 160 PC members killed. Evidently, members of the community are by no means exempt from the harrassment of the war nor shielded from the temptations amidst the conflict; nonetheless, the genuine commitment to the PC does seem to bring life to those who thought they could never find one.

The value of this region to all parties does not lie alone in the strength of the PC nor the strategic location of the area, but also in the richness of the land itself. The hills are covered with fertile farmland that reliably produces both subsistent and cash crops. Not a day goes by that people do not bring us gifts of avocadoes or mangoes or plantains fresh from their fincas. It seems as if the land is eager to produce life, perhaps compensating for the other factors that hinder comfortable living. Each time it rains, the smells of this jungle eminate from the surrounding mountains and fortunately cover the other less pleasing odors of the animals that freely wander around our community. As the thunderstorms subside, the ground remains wet and soft, presenting us with the formidable challenge of walking on rock tops to avoid a muddy fall. Attempting to walk around the mud is only most strenuous when making the hike up or down the mountainside to reach our village (la vereda) of La Union, home to about 140 people. Dirtying one's rubber boots is not a problem as crossing the rivers provides opportunities to wash them; however, stepping too deeply into the mud is the real obstacle that one tries to avoid.

I recently had my own unforgettable encounter with the seemingly harmless mud on a recent climb up the mountain. I have by this point made many trips up and down the mountain and feel very comfortable with the path. At the beginning, this hike was a fairly difficult one for me, not because of the slope of the mountain or the sometimes high water at the river crossings, but rather simply because of my lack of a sense of direction. It took several times before I was able to recognize the turns in the path and the shortcuts through the fields that were initially indistingushable to me. Yet over time, I have become more accustomed to the trek and perhaps now take less caution with each of my steps. However, amist all my confidence in my hiking abilities, this self-assuredness did not save me from my own struggle with the muddy terrain. Unable to determine the actual depth of the mud along the trail the other day, I took one step a bit too carelessly and apparently too firmly as all that came back out of that step was my foot while my boot remained in the mud. At first my colleague tried to advise me on how to be able to remove my boot along with my foot from the mud if I twisted my ankle just so. Feeling as if I was about to break off my foot, I relinquished the boot to the mud. As if prying the boot from quicksand, the more I pulled, the more it seemed to get lodged into the ground. I dove in with both arms deep into the mud in order to grab the boot by the heel and dig the shoe out. A few falls and many grunts later, I managed to free my boot from the mud without getting the rest of my body stuck in there as well. I put back on that muddy boot to continue on our way, all the while appreciating just another day in the countryside (el campo).

We have started working on our vegetable garden (la huerta) in the backyard and have come a long way with the help of one of our friends. Past volunteers have kept up la huerta on and off, but we discovered it to be a little bit overgrown when we arrived. Therefore in the process of weeding the whole thing with our hands and machetes, we uncovered a number of bluming crops already. So far we are growing a long list of vegetables, fruits and herbs including spinach, lemongrass, ginger, papaya, yuca, beans, mint and more. We are looking forward to planting more seeds in the coming weeks. And of course, nothing can be completed here in the community without a musical accompaniment. At any time of day and sometimes at night, one can hear different songs blasting from all directions of the hillsides. An atuned listener can even distinguish from which homes certain music is blaring although all the noises may at times be competing for the soundwaves. As for me while working in la huerta, I found it most appropriate to turn up some tunes from my own countryside: some Texas classics of Pat Green and Robert Earl Keen. My colleagues didn't seem to appreciate as much as I did the various references to George's Bar, Austin or Southbound I-35. But nonetheless, a little taste of home.

When I am not digging my boots out of the mud or working on our huerta, there is all the other work that we are doing here with FOR (not that everything else doesn't seem to come along with the whole package of life in el campo). We have been extremely busy for the past few weeks that we have been here getting to know the community and the this northwestern region of Urabá. We have already completed several accompaniment trips for the PC which has send us on foot or by bus all over the place. With our other time, we spend analyzing the security of the area and reporting on the human rights situation in and around the PC. But of course, many of my favorite moments have been getting to know the individuals living in our own vereda. Visiting their homes and often receiving visitors at any hour have provided a great source of both insight into the heartbeat of the PC as well as personal joy in making these meaningful connections.

As I mentioned before, I am learning more and more each day that I am here. But I cannot help but often feel as if I will never fully be able to understand the all the deep complexities of this place. I am not sure that an outsider ever would be able to understand the complete picture nor sympathize with the lives of these campesinos. Nonetheless, I am attempting to do as much as I can as I believe in the work of FOR and in the struggle of the PC.

Funny how in traveling to rural Colombia I found one of the things I missed most from growing up in Michigan: thunderstorms. Days here in San José alternate between cloudy and sunny, really hot and just plain hot, but come evening a thunderstorm is nearly guaranteed. Soon after sunset - which happens at essentially the same hour all year, since we're so close to the equator - lightening

Riding one of the chiveros (open-air jeeps - the picture at right is taken from the top of one) out of the town of Apartadó into the veredas, or villages, towards the Peace Community, I find myself surrounded by various kinds of banana trees. It seems about every day that someone brings us some kind of banana – the bananas we’re used to eating in the States, baby bananas, plantains, or the

Anti-Military Concert
The RED-Juvenil de Medellin (Youth Network), one of our partner organizations, has been working at the grassroots level through non-violence peace initiatives to resist military recruitment, defend human rights and promote active conscientious objection for the past seventeen years.

This May 17, the RED-Juvenil put together the 10th anniversary of the Anti-Military Annual Concert in Medellin, Antioquia. The concert is one of their biggest events of the year and it has gained much popularity over time. “The Anti-Military Concert is well known today,” says Kike, “because now we get calls and emails from lots of people who are anxious to know the date of the event”.

Particular Inconveniences
The concert was scheduled to start at noontime on Saturday and all the RED members were anxious to organize the stage in Parque Obrero, where the annual concert has taken place for the past nine years. With their red t-shirts stamped with the concert’s logo, the RED members headed down to the park anxious to unload the trucks with various instruments, equipment, and sound systems, and tarps. It was 11 in the morning and the adrenaline to start the much-anticipated teamwork was on the edge of their fingers. The RED had an hour to organize and set-up an entire stage, various tarps, and vending stands. They knew that they needed to work on fast-mode as time was running short. Nonetheless, there were other factors that delayed the initiation of the concert: there was another event taking place in the same park. By event, I mean the whole nine yards: tarps, stage, tables, an MC, lunch tables, cooks, and an audience. The park, essentially a public space, was double-booked and the RED was told that the other event would not end until around 2pm. What adds a dash of irony to the scenario is that Corporacion Democracia (Democracy Corporation), an NGO that works directly with demobilized paramilitaries who wish to reincorporate into civil society, organized the event. The Corporation’s event was organized in honor the demobilized paramilitaries’ mothers who have been displaced. Could this be more surreal? Let us re-examine the scenario: The RED, a group of young activist that resist taking part in any way to the armed forms of resistance and are against the use of violence as a means to achieve social change has a Anti-Military Concert scheduled the same day as an organization that, according to a member of the RED, “has managed to legalize much of their politics with demobilized paramilitaries which sheds light into the existing marginalized power that is still seen in the city.” On the one hand we have the anti-thesis of the RED’s values, both hosting an event, both on opposite sides of a spectrum. Then again, when I really think about it, it seems that this is a perfect example of the kind of situations that arise here in Colombia, where one day you hear that the President’s cousin is in jail for ties with paramilitaries and another day you hear that the President reached a popularity rate as high as 85%.
Kevin and I were representing FOR with our sky blue tops that stood out in the crowd of black and red shirts. We formally introduced ourselves to the representatives of the Corporacion Democracia and specified that we were International Human Rights Observes that supports the non-violent form of resistance that are organized by the Red-Juvenil. We described our role in the country and highlighted that it was our responsibility to inform the International Community and the relevant government officials in Colombia when violations against our partner organizations take place. We added that we would be observing and documenting the event.

After a couple of hours of tension, passive aggressive talks, and a high doses of patience, the RED and the Democracy Corporation reached consensus: The Red would start setting up their stage at 2pm and the Corporation would clear the park. Not surprising, what actually ended up happening is that the RED had to wait about three hours for technicians to dismantle the Corporation’s main stage that was blocking the RED’s. In other words, there was one huge stage set up in front of the other until around 6pm when technicians finally arrived and the audience was finally able to gather in front of the live band.

Music: Shared through messages of non-violence
Music and art are a common strategy used by the RED to get their message of non-violence and conscientious objection across in a way that attracts youth and society. The RED sees that in putting together their annual concert, they are exercising proactive ways that are innovative and that effectively promote their views on social change and resistance. Art and music allow for the creation of spaces that are more inclusive than not, and such spaces tend to be attractive because they are bold and loud. “We are all here [at the concert] because we believe in our right to be able to live in a society that does not promote the use of weapons and violence to achieve change and that the military structures are not a solution to our social problems,” says the RED member over the microphone to an audience of about 5,000 people.

The music came from a diversity of bands that ranged from hip-hop, to reggae, to hard metal and ska. All the bands, however, sang about social change, conscientious objection and the need for society to evolve in the absence of militarism. “Having different music genres in one concert is innovative here in Medellin where there exists a historical division between Rastas, punkers, and hip-hoppers in terms of identity and territory. What the RED has created is a space where there is tolerance for different taste and styles that allows for a space to be inclusive as neither groups can claim boundaries or territories. In the end, the common ground here is our view that as youth we all reject violent forms of resistance that fall into militaristic approaches,” explains *Rudy from the RED.

The RED believes that this year they had the largest audience present than in any previous year. Throughout the night the two nurses under the first-aid tent were on alert while the RED’s protective team circulated the periphery and maneuvered their bodies between the crowd handling and mediating between individuals who were causing trouble; and as a whole, the RED demonstrated their multi-talents and multi-tasking skills as their MC’s went from being on stage to selling drinks behind a stand, while others switched between being mediators to jugglers, and some traded drumsticks for walkie-talkies. The music, the crowd, and the event did not stop until around until 2:30 am. Afterwards, as exhausted as they were, the RED collectively picked-up trash, filled the trucks with their equipment, and congratulated each other for their commitment and effort in putting together such an important event.

“I am so tired can’t feel my feet,” says *Rita from the RED with voice that is almost gone, “but we are proud that besides the fact that we had inconveniences and tensions in the beginning, we know that the Anti-Military Concert was once again a success”.

*Pseudonym