Peace Building Goes to School

As we pass shacks perched on stilts, no windowpanes or doors, I try to imagine a student climbing the rough-hewn stairs after a day at the nearby high school.

The road heaves our van left and right as we slowly negotiate the uneven road surface. We are heading to a school in the hills outside of Quibdo, in the department of Choco, Colombia to visit a unique peace-building program called CyberBridges.

I’m accompanied on this visit by Jim Stipe, CRS staff photographer, Matthew Bristow, translator and Rigoberto Patiño from the CRS Colombia office in Bogotá.

Choco has the second highest illiteracy rate in Colombia. This school was started in 2002 with funding from USAID to answer a desperate need.

The school educates about 1,000 children between the ages of 14-18,
98% of whom are Afro-Colombian displaced persons or desplazados.*

As we clear the top of the ridge, several large cinder block buildings can be seen scattered across a sun drenched, hilly campus connected by covered concrete pathways. The buildings are designed with open fretwork walls to take advantage of any breeze.

Groups of children are milling about, while others can be seen in their classrooms. As we climb out of the van, curious children and young adults surround us. They smile, but are shy and maintain a polite distance.

Rigoberto greets them in Spanish saying a magic word—CyberBridges. A young woman launches into a welcome speech delivered in English with great pride. She then asks us to follow her on a tour of the CyberBridges classroom.

We cross the campus, now buzzing with the news of visiting strangers. I hear voices exclaiming “¿de dónde son?”. They wonder from where we have come.

Our guide leads us across the campus to a building with locked classrooms. We peer inside and see a dismaying sight—computers piled on top of each other, some gutted, hard-drives, fans and logic boards hanging by loose wires. Is this the CyberBridges classroom?

As if reading my mind, our tour-guide explains, “This is the computer repair workshop, students take classes here on how to fix PCs, next we’ll see the CyberBridges classroom”.

She beams as the door is unlocked, students file in, computers whir to life, and monitors flicker. These kids, from a town nestled in the South America jungle, have made a jump into the 21^st century; this looks like a modern classroom. They are surfing the web, making contact with a group of students in New Haven, Connecticut. The program is in partnership with the diocese of Hartford, and is part of an effort to connect youth from very different cultures.

The value here is the connection and understanding this instant communication brings. Pictures are exchanged, e-mails answered, discussions begun and completed across thousands of miles and a continent away.

How do the students feel about this program? “It’s special because only a select group is chosen; we have to work hard to get into this program” says one young girl, “Plus, the people we meet online are becoming our friends.”

As we are leaving, the principal of the school introduces himself and tells us the program has meant a great deal to the students. He is proud the school can offer CyberBridges in its curriculum. “The students in this program are leaders in our school,” he says as he shakes our hands.

I manage to say, “gracias, con mucho gusto, adiós”, (thanks, with much pleasure, goodbye) not anywhere near the words I am thinking or feeling.

We walk to the van and are accompanied by a large group of good-natured kids. They willingly go along with some requests for final photos and videotape shots, they shout over and over again in English, “We love CyberBridges!”

*Desplazados is Spanish for displaced persons, refugees of armed conflicts involving left-wing guerillas, right-wing paramilitaries, drug cartels and the state that have wracked Colombia for the past 40 years.

© Copyright 2009 Guy Arceneaux All rights reserved

Second post for my first day in Quibdo

Human rights training is another important step in helping the displaced. Some do not have an interest in returning they want to make a new start. But for many that is the center of their lives rejoining their community on the land to which they feel tied.

For these people, Padre Albeiro answered that a variety of strategies are used, educating communities to strengthen their knowledge of human rights, and work to empower women and young people.

I was curious to know what these people were walking into when they were able to return to their former home regions. Padre explained that a commission looks at the region before a group returns. The community itself makes the decision to return and it’s not a matter of a single family returning but a community.

The goal is to have any instance of return follow three conditions:

• it should be a voluntary decision,
• the living conditions should be dignified and
• there must be security.

These are conditions set forth in a much quoted Colombian Law #387 (1997).This was a law passed after much pressure from the Pastoral Social. Unfortunately, Padre Albeiro said that he didn’t think there had been one instance of a community returning home in keeping with these principles.

We were told that Colombia was a country where many laws were passed in defense of the rights of citizens but few are enforced. For instance, there is Law 70, passed in 1993 which gives special status to lands in Choco designated for Afro-Colombians and indigenous peoples. It assures that certain parcels of land are protected.

In other parts of Colombia where extensive displacement has occurred, the land cleared of its inhabitants is now held by the well-connected, powerful and rich. Choco has land rich in gold, copper, silver and coal and the companies interested in access to these resources now must negotiate with the communities under the stipulations of this law.

The fact of the matter is, he told us, if you overlay a map of the areas of conflict with a map of natural riches ripe for development, you would find they are in identical locations and that really this really shouldn’t surprise us.

The Church has been able to work with armed groups to negotiate the release of hostages, they are well respected and are able to break through stalemates and negotiate. Pastoral Social is one of the dioceses’ partners but it is all viewed as the work of the Church.

The dilemma of the desplazados is not simple, even when they can return to their land. They face the defense of their land against a variety of outsiders, multi-national corporations, paramilitary groups and guerilla groups—the same entities that forced them out to begin with. Ironically, employment options are often limited to these same groups.

A Full Agenda is Planned Tomorrow, My Spanish is Faltering

We have a busy day tomorrow and true to any CRS visit, it will start early and go on at breakneck speed until evening. We thank everyone for their time, and I am thankful that I can return to the hotel before my grasp of the Spanish language leaves me totally. Instead of saying “when I return” in Spanish I used the word revueltos. One orders eggs scrambled—huevos revueltos, so I said something the equivalent of I would see them scrambled.

“Buenos noches,” I said, as we left the air-conditioned room and entered the dense humidity of a June night in Quidbo. The town buzzed with the sound of motor bikes and motorcycle cab vehicles that zoom people everywhere around town.

Dinner Back at the Hotel

We walk back to the hotel and settle in for the night after a bit of dinner in the dining room. Fried fish and macaroni and cheese, like my family in Florida might fix but served with fried plantains and a tall glass of fresh orange juice “sin hielo” (without ice). Matthew Bristow, our Brit Spanish translator, offers his Amazon sauce to spice up my food, it’s bright yellow and hotter and tangier than any hot sauce I’ve ever used.

Matthew is a translator journalist who is an expert on narco-political topics, giving us insight into much that we hear, its roots and origins. ahe has an easy rapport with everyone we meet and is a font of information about what is advisable during our day to day routine.

The hotel is filled with a mix of guests, I idly try to figure out each group’s relationship and why they might be in a town like Quibdo. There are fellows dressed in polos, khakis and work boots who might be engineers, they speak English, without an accent and seamlessly switch to Spanish when the need arises.

Then there is a family, with their children. The kids are rambunctiously running around the tiled dining room. They’d rather be outside, but the street is very busy. It’s getting dark and a steady stream of armed men visiting the police barracks across the alley would give any parent pause for thought.

Quiet and a Chance to Write up My Notes

I retire to my room, hoping that the air-conditioner might provide a cool sanctuary from the thick muggy air. I know that we have a full day tomorrow so I am trying to unwind, I need to rest, but my thoughts are racing. The political atmosphere in Colombia is electric and I am unsettled by the narrative details detailed for us earlier this evening. It is astounding, the epic proportion of displacement in Soache, Quibdo, and across Colombia.

The politics of greed and disregard of human is played out as the powerful exploit Colombia’s natural riches. The people are merely pawns, their rights, while often acknowledged in grandly worded legislation, are casually ignored. Sleep won’t come easily tonight, I am angry and feel powerless.

Tomorrow we meet again at the Bishop’s Residence with more partners of CRS and then will set off for a day of visiting programs, all very different but all aimed at the huge problem of desplazado resettlement and housing.

© Copyright 2009 Guy Arceneaux All rights reserved

First day away from Bogota

Quibdó, Colombia

Monday, 6.16.08

Quibdó is sitting in the middle of a department that became a battleground between government forces and paramilitary groups. The years between 1996 and 2008 saw
a huge displacement of 90,000 within Choco. This was coupled with huge displacements of people from the department of Antioca, east of Choco. CRS and Caritas have worked together to help people return to their original home regions.

We land at the airport and catch a cab to the hotel we’ll call home for the next couple of nights. The ride from the airport wasn’t too long but it was rough! The roads aren’t paved
in most parts of Quibdó. We pass all kinds of housing on the way, from tumble down shacks with rough plank floors and no windows in place to stucco homes with masonry walkways and lawns. 

A Room with No View

At the hotel we go to our rooms to settle in but we can’t get too settled in—we have a meeting at 6p.m. Our meeting is at the Bishop’s residence with Padre Jesus Albeiro Parra Solís. We meet in the lobby and walk over to the Bishop’s residence just a couple of blocks away. The humidity has now become a steady drizzle and the town silhouettes of the buildings are defined against a darkening sky.

As we walked down the ramp to a patio entrance we can’t help but notice a sign, it’s an international emblem, recognizable anywhere, it says no automatic weapons.  Now I know why I’ve been asked to where the tan field vest with CRS and Caritas boldly embroidered on the back and front. They told us in Bogota at the briefing that morning that it would be recognizable and many factions had a respect for our joint efforts.

I looked at the inky Atrato River reflecting the lights of the waterfront walk and saw a hollowed log boat crossing to the far side of the river. Bogota seemed like a distant memory, yet I had been in Colombia for a little over 24 hours.

A receptionist showed us into a room where Padre Albeiro Parra was already seated at a table in a large air-conditioned room. When we exchanged business cards I noticed Padre’s was beautifully designed, bright orange with an image suggesting a sun, a visual play on his last name Solís. His title was Director Pastoral Social—Diócesis de Quibdó.

We were joined shortly by Yesenia Cordoba Cordoba, and Yaneth Moreno Rodriquez as Padre Albeiro began telling us about some of the people we’d visit the next day. They are displaced peoples he said, Afro-Colombians, campesinos, and indigenous peoples. They were from the region of Choco. I asked him how CRS and Caritas help them when they arrive in the area.

They are given aid and legal advice that can help them qualify for governmental aid as a displaced person. This process is often lengthy and but entitles a qualified person to three months of housing and food aid. The housing stipend is less than adequate and often people live with extended family.

Photo Web Album - Soacha, Colombia 6.18.08

Photo album: Soacha Colombia 6.18 Soacha Colombia 6.18 Soacha, Colombia - Jun 18, 2008 by Guy Arceneaux Photos from CRS trip, June 2008 View Album Play slideshow

© Copyright 2009 Guy Arceneaux All rights reserved

Notes from my trip to Colombia

The sense of a town under siege is shown by this photo taken on a Monday afternoon. Colombia was a very tense place but the people were very friendly.

Photo: Guy Arceneaux, taken in Soacha, Colombia, June 16, 2008

Bogota, Colombia: Monday, June 16^th, 2008

The Bogota, Colombia CRS office was first established in 1959 and demonstrated continuous service until 1990 when the office was closed. In 1992 the office was reopened and is now involved in extensive human rights awareness efforts and partnering with groups involved in the considerable problem of displacement of people throughout Colombia.

Partner organizations within Colombia are the SNPS, Caritas and Colombian Dioceses as well as other ecclesiastical agencies. Working with this coalition CRS has developed a common set of programs and policies.

The office is in the midst of a 3-year program focusing on this issue with an annual operating budget of approximately $1 million dollars. The primary efforts are, peace-building, human rights, building solidarity and advocacy in the United States.

Soacha: A common displaced background, but life at two extremes

After a briefing at the CRS Bogota offices, Jim Stipe, CRS photographer, Matthew Bristow and myself accompanied Maria Elisa Caresani to Soacha, an area that has seen explosive growth due to the influx of desplazados (displaced persons).

Our first visit was to a housing complex in Soacha inhabited primarily by families of desplazados. We met with Aminta Baquiro and her children. They were very welcomingvideotaping an interview with Aminta and her son Diego Armando Escobar.

Their home was very comfortable with tiled floors and nice furniture, the neighborhood felt secure and quiet. This family had made the adjustment very well, but it was evident they harbored insecurities about their standard of living. Diego, the son was especially intent on making things better by becoming a policeman, securing a salaried position of power.

We were taken to visit a woman, Luz Miriam Anzola, who lived in Soachea with her two daughters aged 15 and 6. We took a cab to their habitat, which was in a very desolate part of Soacha. The woman's living quarters were at the end of an alley paved by loose rubble including broken tiles, brick fragments, stones and concrete chunks.

It was typical of the type of dwellings desplezados in Soacha build, using land on which they are squatting. Entire neighborhoods have sprung up, some become established and housing develops over time.

The cab driver waited for us at the entrance to the alley as we walked towards a patchwork home of plywood, corrugated metal and scraps of plastic sheeting situated
next to a marshy field filled with marsh grasses and bushy growth. The shack was situated across the alley from a soap making operation that was belching an acrid smoke that drifted into the open door as we were greeted.

Truth be told, we were not expected, this woman was obviously not feeling well, coughing intermittently while making quite a fuss about clearing a space for us to sit.

We wanted to hear her story and I spent a good twenty minutes interviewing her through
our interpreter, Matthew Bristow, in Spanish. We heard a very sad tale of displacement and loss and an existence that at this point in time seems uncertain to her.

During the interview she revealed how her asthma is aggravated by the smoke that drifts into their home. Even with the door closed the smoke comes through the cracks between the ceiling beams and the gaps in the metal siding. That day was dry, clear and windy, but I wondered how different things might be during the rainy season when the waters from the nearby marsh rose, easily turning their earthen floor to a mud.

She described nights when young men prowled the alley and sometimes banged at their door, frightening them all, keeping them from sleep, in fear of their safety. She does not work, afraid to leave her young daughters alone, consequently, she can't afford the tuition for her daughters' education.

Despite the grime that covered almost everything inside the house, the cheerful girls were
clean, well dressed and certainly loved by this single mother of two.

The Director of Pastoral Social Caritas, Fr. Ricardo Martinez Gonzalez, told me that they were trying to place her and her daughters in a more suitable shelter. The temporary shelter was built by acquaintances of the woman when she first arrived in Soache.

It was time to leave Soacha for the airport, but we would return in a few days time. Jim Stipe, Rigoberto Patino, our CRS host, and Matthew Bristow, intrepid translator were off to a very different environment—hot and steamy. We were headed to Quibdo in Choco on the Atrato River in western Colombia, the jungle!

© Copyright 2009 Guy Arceneaux All rights reserved

2009? Give it a shake!

There is a movement among Sharky's Circle of friends to take control of this new year,

make it work for them. It's like childbirth, the child must be manhandled a bit to wake it from its dependent complacency.

What are the things you would shake up to get them "on track" this year?

I can put it in a few simple words write, paint and design, MORE!

But under writing I'll include language learning. Spanish and French.

Also working on a story that keeps popping up in my mind, and trying

to shake that into existence.

Painting? Well there is the kind you do on canvas and the kind you do on your walls.

I see me painting on canvas with oils this year, oils are a luxurious medium.

We did enough painting on walls in the closing days of 2008 to satisfy me for a while.

Design? It has to move, so I'll shake up my Flash skills.

That is as far as i will go towards the traditional New Year's Resolution List.

Someone might hold me to it. In this case I'll put forward a 2009 Motto:

No excuses!

Sharky

© Copyright 2009 Guy Arceneaux All rights reserved