On Accompaniment

Sometimes it is difficult to be an accompanier. Sure, sometimes we are physically uncomfortable or emotionally uncomfortable with the stories we hear. Sometimes we are uncomfortable because we don't know why we are hear. Sometimes when we are with our hosts, or in the churches chatting, laughing and experiencing the incredibly generous culture of Colombia we forget why this program is important. It has been easy for us to forget the quiet violence that is most prevalent in the areas of Urabá where we have been accompanying churches. We forget the most important part of this experience is simply to be seen.

Most displaced people we have met came from smaller, rural towns. The violence and fear they experienced is different than the type of violence that occurs in more "urban" centers. By urban I do not mean a city. I just mean they have a town center with several stores and a bank or two. In the rural areas guerrillas and paramilitaries will come into a community and tell everyone that their land is worth so much and they will pay them so much. If the people refuse the offer they will be killed. Sometimes families don't even get the option to flee. They are killed as guerrilla sympathizers. In the "urban" areas here the violence is not as large. Every few months the paramilitaries will send out lists informing people they are wanted for questioning. This is a death sentence. The claim the people are involved in the drug cartels, thieves, or guerrilla sympathizers. The majority of people killed are both men and women from the ages of 15 to 26. Once the paramilitaries are done in one city they will move on the another.

Most people are very hesitant to explain to us why they are displaced. We do not spend our days listening to heartbreaking tales of violence. The last few days have been spent in a lot of laughter and love. Mary Kay and I have both questioned our purpose here in Colombia and one point or another in the last two weeks. Then someone will make a small comment or we will have a conversation that reminds us there is still a necessity.

We stayed with one pastor for five days and spent most of our time sitting on the front porch.  From that porch we could see the house of a military informant, a police officer, solider, and paramilitary member. We have also heard about how pastors in all churches are targets and many have been killed. We heard that the paramilitaries went into a church during a service and took the pastor and 8 others and murdered them all. Luckily, the IPC has not experienced violence on that level. Another pastor admitted he does not feel he can preach about certain things, for his safety the safety of this members. The paramilitaries will often question pastors in the street then follow them to the service and follow them back to their house, watching.

Currently, most people we have talked to say that right now there is a calm. This does not mean they are hopeful that the violence is over. They realize that any day, for whatever reason, the violence might start again. When we hear these stories we remember how important it is just to be seen. Our continual presence sends a silent message. We are here. We are watching and we care. The word peace is never used by Colombians to describe any part of their country, but then we can't use the word peace to describe any part of the world. At least not the type of peace Jesus demands. 

To love your neighbor

I am not very good at loving my neighbor and I am much worse at loving my neighbor as myself. I try to follow this very simple command but I am selfish and prideful. They might be my two biggest flaws. I would not say I am egotistical but being kind and generous does not come naturally to me. It is something I consciously do, and as I become more conscious it becomes more natural. I do it because I believe in order to change the world we have to change ourselves as well. If I want a peaceful and just world I have to be kind and generous.

I have met a lady here in Colombia who is naturally kind and generous. Actually, most Colombians I have encountered are naturally kind and generous. I will call this woman Grace. Grace told me that when she lived in Cartegena she had a wonderful experience with God.  It was the end of the month and her husband, who is a pastor, is paid once a month. They had no money left and no food. All they had was a little bit of oatmeal, two eggs, and some onion. She made two tortillas from the oatmeal and scrambled the two eggs with onion. She made a plate for her husband and set hers to the side because she likes to wait to eat until after she is done cooking when she can relax. Her husband ate his plate and ran to the church to arrive early for the service. Before she had a chance to sit down to eat a man from the church came to the house and asked if she could give him some food because he did not have any and was very hungry. She thought for a minute and said a prayer to God and decided to give this man her food, not knowing if she would be able to get more. That afternoon, after church, a member showed up at her door with a small basket of food. It had a little bit of meat, rice, and some vegetables. Later that same day another person stopped by with two tamales. She said she learned in that moment that when you sacrifice a little God gives you much more in return.

Gracie's house is always hectic. People are always coming and going and many women will come and help her cook and clean up. I asked if this was because we were here and she said a lot of women whose husbands are having trouble finding work will come and help her and she sends them home with food for their families. Grace also said different accompaniers will leave clothing, which she gifts to different people. This church truly is a family and they truly love at least their church neighbors as themselves.

It is not always easy

There is very little more humbling than when someone opens up to you enough to tell you their story, especially when then story is painful to hear and 100 times more painful for the person to tell. We spent five days in a smaller town that will remain nameless for the safety of those we have met. The church in this town is very small, where just about all the members are displaced. Most of our time is spent sharing smiles, laughter, hugs and food. It is simple and joyful fellowship. But sometimes it is spent sharing moments so painful we don't know how to respond. Sometimes we hear stories so horrific we can't even understand. To even try would be incredibly egotistical. So we listen and we share.

While in this town we ate everyday in children's ministry that is funded by a larger organization but partnered with the IPC. The lady who cooks at the ministry is a member of the church. We will call her Amelia. She comes from a town from which many people are displaced. She has been displaced for 12 years and even today the violence continues. The Presbyterian Church used to be big and active, but know it is disorganized, contains very few members and does not have a permanent pastor. The pastor from the town where we were goes there often to help with services but he told us it was to dangerous for us to accompany him. One afternoon, while sitting on the porch and chatting, she told us her story. It was unexpected, heartbreaking, and humbling. 

Twelve years ago she and her family of 6 were displaced. One day she was out with her youngest child who was about 3. She heard that people were randomly being killed in her town and everyone had to flee into the woods. For 2 days she hid in the woods, not knowing if the rest of her family was alive or dead. She was able to reunite with her family and they had to leave all their possessions behind and flee to a new town. A new town where they had nothing and knew no one. Amelia told us a few years ago someone came to record the stories of the displaced but she was not ready to tell her story. She was traumatized she said. Even though she now feels ready to tell her story we could see how difficult it still is, and always will be to remember that pain. As the pastor said, it hurts his heart to both hear people's stories and recount them to others.

We find Amelia to be so brave. While she says she now feels safe you can still sense her hesitation. She did not even say what group it was that committed the violence and we did not ask. Telling your story and fingering the violators are two different things. Her oldest son has actually joined the national army, which might make it even more difficult. It shows the complicated web of relationships between the violence, guerrillas, paramilitaries, and national army. When violence is used nothing is clear or simple. We are not psychologists, we did not have any inspirational words of comfort. All we could say is thank you for sharing with us. Thank you for teaching us. Hopefully we helped her to heal by listening, but now we have to share. We share so people understand that it is our own government that funds this violence and it is our responsibility to prevent more stories like that of Amelia.

Tough old ladies

I have to give a shout out to my co-accompanier, Mary Kay. She might not want me to tell the world how old she is but she is in her 70s. She travels all the time and is a pretty incredible person. First of all she is here. We stay in houses without air conditioning and it is hot and humid. Hot and humid in the way that you are always a little sweaty. And this is coming from someone who sweats very little. In our last homestay we did not even have a real bathroom. There was a toilet that did not flush, you have to pour water in the basin so you did not waste water if there is only urine in the toilet. There was no shower, we took bucket baths. Honestly, I love bucket baths but if you have never done it, it is something to get used to. Then our toilet got clogged up. It was an incredibly old house and the plumbing is really old. Our host told us it happens every now and again and you can't use the toilet until it fixes itself. How it fixes itself, I am still unsure. So we spent an afternoon peeing in the "shower" room. Even this was new for me. She never complained, only expressed how bad she felt for our host because he must be embarrassed. I expected some complaining at peeing in the shower but she was a trooper.

She is also incredibly kind and generous. She always wants to make sure everyone is taken care of. She has a knack of understanding what people need. When we were in the airport she could tell there was an anxious lady in line behind us and while I would have run away we waited for her through security and sat with her at the gate. This lady was crazy, and she was so patient and kind. Then there was a lady at a church service who told us her husband had just died and she was still so sad about it. She got a little teary and I never know what to say. Mary Kay just gave that lady a big hug and she just cried and cried. What she needed was someone to hug her. She only speaks a tiny bit of Spanish but manages to communicate very well. She also puts up with me. Sometimes I forget she does not understand Spanish and I forget to translate for her. She is so patient and just tells me she does not expect me to translate everything. I find her pretty impressive.

Assumptions

Assumptions

Mary Kay and I have been in Colombia for about a week now and we have visited a variety of different families, schools, and projects. As Mary Kay and I were preparing to leave we were often asked what we would be doing while we are in Colombia. People often don't know how to respond when you say we will accompany the people of Colombia. What does that mean? So far it has meant drinking a lot of fruity beverages and having slightly sore bums from sitting most of the day. It also means having a lot of preconceptions coming crashing down around you.

After spending a year in Guatemala I am used to being surprised and not making assumptions. However, through this experience I realized I was carrying preconceptions I did not even realize I had. One of these was what I thought displacement looked like. For whatever reason I unconsciously had the idea that the displaced people I would meet would all live in poverty. Clearly I understood that all types of people are displaced, violence disrupts everyone although the most vulnerable are generally affected the most. I don't know for sure, but I imagine that the majority of the 4 million displaced people do live in poverty. But that is not the only story and this experience is again teaching me not to generalize. It is an easy thing for us to do when we don't understand something. We immediately want to put it in a context we understand but sometimes we have to be okay with being unsure, and be forgiving of ourselves when we realize we were wrong. 

Mary Kay and I were both wrong about an older couple we met who are members of the IPC. We arrived by taxi to a very nice and newer neighborhood with some fancy houses. We were escorted into a lovely home where we sat at a dining room table with cushioned chairs. I say this because cushioned chairs are rare. I was very impressed. Mary Kay asked if he was a doctor previously (we assumed he was retired). The man told us a small part of his story. He and his wife have 12 children and 19 grandchildren. While I am used to large Latin families this still shocked me. He and his wife used to live in in a different department north of Uraba where he was an agricultore.  There are two words used here for people involved in farming: Agricultore and campesino. These two words have been explained to us differently so we are unsure if this man owned his land or worked the land of others. This family was displaced from their home because of the guerrillas and had to live somewhere for a time. The family eventually moved back to their place of birth where they bought a house just to be displaced by the guerrilla again. After sometime the man started working with a foreign foundation that taught agricultural techniques. He worked with them for 7 years and is now retired (I think) and living in a peaceful little neighborhood. 

This story reminded us that the displacement in Colombia is far reaching and affects everyone. It also reminded us that people are not one way or another. How they live is not a reflection of their story, what they have experienced, who they were, or who they are now. The only way to understand someone is to talk them, and even then sometimes you only have part of the story. We look forward to continuing our journey and hearing more stories and sharing int the reality of the Colombians we meet.  We also hope to continue being surprised and humbled.

It's okay, you can roll your eyes

In order to protect the people I meet I will not name names or places. All names of people and places will be fictional.

 So I am going to be a little corny and cliche in this post. Today we went and visited several families from the Presbyterian church here in Frankford. I had such a nice day, drinking all types of yummy fruit drinks and sitting around chatting. Yesterday we visited families from the children's project and I felt slightly uncomfortable and intrusive. Everyone was very kind and welcoming but I still felt a slight hesitancy from the families. Today we were warmly welcomed and I could tell everyone was genuinely happy to have us there and s large part of that is because we arrived as brothers and sisters in Christ. I told you this would be corny and cliche. But I am giving into and embracing this feeling because usually I scorn these types of emotions. If you are rolling your eyes at me I understand. Go ahead, I would. I felt so comfortable and natural in their homes. We started with the usual, how do you like Colombia, and, how are you dealing with the heat? Then we talked about a variety of things, from the weather in the US, to holidays, health care, children, and displacement. Some of our conversations were more engaging than others but all were honest.

 I had many thoughtful conversations in Guatemala and the difference in how open and honest people are seems to come from a religious place. Both in Guatemala and here, when people feel like you share a God, share a religion, most other boundaries come down. We are just brothers and sisters. Honestly, while this is not the first time I have had this feeling, it is the first time I have recognized and embraced this common thread. People that gush about their faith make me uncomfortable. This is for many reasons but one is that I feel like they are saying what they think they should be saying, or not being critical of situations.  But today I am that person who feels like I encountered God today simply by being with other Christians and sharing a cold beverage. I did not provide anyone with an insightful story nor was I particularly amusing. But I was simply there and my visit did brighten several people's days, as they brightened mine.  When I am in Latin America I seem to be able to let a lot of my prejudices about myself go and hope I can bring that openness back with me to the US. 

We are just getting started

While I am in Colombia and I am not going to talk about my experience but I am not going to name names or tell you exactly where I am for the protection of the people I meet. I will create false names of both places and people.

We have been in Colombia for three days now and it feels like much longer. We have been staying busy and the heat just makes us tired. We arrived in Johnstown and while we were riding in the bus from the airport all I could think was how familiar it all felt, I felt like I was home. Everyday I miss the smells of Guatemala, even the stinky ones. I miss the architecture and materials used in the houses and buildings. I miss the mountains and the greenery.  Johnstown is a mountainous region in Colombia it all looked and smelt the same as my experiences in Guatemala. Two days ago we arrived in the region of Frankfort, where we are spending the month. Frankfort is at sea level and is a tropical place. That is my nice way of saying it is hot. They have two "seasons" here: windy and rainy. It is super hot during the rainy season and slightly less hot during the windy season. Right now we are somewhere in between the two, so it is only uncomfortable not miserably hot. But really Frankfort is beautiful. It is so green and  the people I have met have been so accommodating and want to make sure we are well taken care of and comfortable.

Currently we are located in the town of Bethany, which is in the region of Frankfort. Today we walked around a local barrio of Bethany and spoke with many families of the children in a project of the church here.  Many of these people are displaced. I have seen and experienced extreme poverty during my travels but this felt different. We stopped and chatted with one lady who did not have a home. She had erected tarps and set up a makeshift tent that has become her permanent home. She was a cheerful lady who was full of smiles and warm words of welcome. We continued on to visit several other families with varying family issues and different types of homes. We stopped and chatted with one lady who told us about a problem that occurred in the barrio last night that included her son of 15 years.  Last night two boys of about 15 or 16 years old were killed and 4 others went missing. The two boys that were killed were tortured first, one had half of his face burnt and the other had his fingers cut off. Her son was friends with all of these boys and had been out wandering the streets last night. This mother has been trying to keep her son out of trouble, sometimes she sends him to work with his father at night so he can't get into trouble but she can't control his every move. She would like to send him to live in a different area so he will stop hanging out with his friends that
get into troubled but she does not have the economic resources to send him away. I can't imagine the
fear this mother lives  with everyday. Everyday she is fearful that her son will be tortured and killed.

It would be easy for us to say this young boy has made bad decisions and he can change his ways, straighten up. However then we would be ignoring the inescapable economic and social situation.  First, Framkford is one of the most violent areas in Colombia, mostly because it is so rich in natural resources. This violence is manifested in the community and it is not such an easy thing to ignore or rise above it. Especially when there are no economic resources. This boy can't move away, his parents can't financially provide a better life for their children. These children have no choice button live in a community surrounded by violence that they can not control. This violence is an effect of the political situation in frankford and Colombia.


As I mentioned above, Frankford is rich in natural resources, making it a political and economic center, which also creates violence. Frankford  is militarily controlled, although you won't see the military in the streets. Mostly it is controlled electronically although the presence and fear is felt among the people. The people here are accustomed to living surrounded by violence, which one pastor claims it is one reason the people are so kind and accommodating. If they keep their head down and behave, no harm will come to them. Generally, people don't talk about the violence especially if they think it has political ties.

This violence is exactly why I am here this month. There are three objectives of the program: 1. To see 2. To be seen 3. To take what I see and hear back with me to the US.