During patrol for the Colombian military, James took a step which would alter his life forever; onto a mine so deafening he could only hear a high pitched peal. As the smoke cleared, James looked down at the splintered bone and mangled muscle of his right leg. In disbelief, James began to laugh.
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Was it this incredulity that led him to learn how to walk with a prosthesis faster than any of his peers in rehabilitation? That seems paradoxical. James himself can’t really describe what made him get out of bed and start practicing walking day and night. ”It was a very long process learning how to walk with a prosthesis. I don’t know what made me get up and do it. Yo tenía ganas,” he said. ”I just felt like it.”
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Leaving the military rehabilitation facility in Bogotá, he was very self-conscious of his new limb. He would hear people in the street say, “pobrecito” or “poor guy” and he couldn’t stand it. He’s learned to overcome that as well. On Sundays in Bogotá, the busiest street-Avenida Séptima- is shut down for pedestrians and cyclists only. These days, James dons a pair of shorts and he and his wife ride up and down Séptima assuredly. ”I just don’t care anymore” James explains, referring to other’s thoughts on his prosthesis.
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At 21 years old, James has shown great resilience in the two years since that life-changing encounter with the landmine. His motivation to study and move on, along with the support he receives from Fundación ArcÁngeles’ job development department, will help James go far. Hopefully James’ resilience rubbed off in the rehabilitation center or on Avenida Séptima because it’s inspiring how James has faced facts and chosen life so fast and so young.
Arcesio sat wringing his hands while alternating between strained smiles and somber looks as I interviewed him. He and his cheerful wife were very kind to meet me at Fundación ArcÁngeles. Bogotá’s traffic and shear size can make trips across the city take an hour or more during rush hour.
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It could have been many things that made Arcesio so nervous to be interviewed. He is connected with Fundación ArcÁngeles through a job development program to help people with disabilities find jobs or make jobs more accessible. Maybe he thought I was screening him for a job (although I made very clear my connection to Fundación ArcÁngeles and the purpose of the interview). Maybe being at Fundación ArcÁngeles made him feel awkward. He could have just been camera shy or, most likely, he was probably uncomfortable talking about his life experiences with a complete stranger (who that day was delirious with a second round of a head cold that made her Spanish quite interesting). I didn’t immediately assume it would be the latter that made him seem so uncomfortable just because it happened so long ago. “It” being the day Arcesio’s life changed.
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Eighteen years ago, Arcesio was a nineteen year old fulfilling the two year obligatory military service required of young Colombian men. “It was a normal day,” he told me. “We had just eaten breakfast, our stomachs were full. We were out on patrol in the mountains of northeastern Colombia for about 2 hours. It was 11 am.” At 11 am that day Arcesio stepped on a landmine that he reckons was probably there for around two years. Arcesio says he looked down after the blast to see his right leg completely blown off. All he could think about was killing himself. “I’m not worth anything now. What good am I?” he had thought. Arcesio’s left leg had to later be amputated when gangrene infested. He says the amputation saved his life.
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Arcesio has since come a long way from his nineteen year old mentality after the landmine explosion. He no longer uses a wheel chair. He has a wife and an 11 year old daughter. He’s now looking for a stable job. He does not want to kill himself. The biggest challenge he faces now is not his own mentality, but the mentality of Colombian society. Arcesio describes the mentality of Colombian society regarding people with disabilities as condescending and discriminating. He says it is very difficult to find a job if you have a disability and people do not usually treat him like other co-workers. “I just want to be treated like a ‘normal’ person.”
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Arcesio looks forward to finding a stable job, “hopefully watching security cameras or the like.” Arcesio has come to the right place towards reaching his two goals. Fundación ArcÁngeles is working around the clock to change Colombians’ prejudices against people with disabilities and aiming to create more jobs for this population. As for Arcesio’s tension during the interview, I can’t say. I was an hour blip in Arcesio’s life which is not long enough to make assumptions (although, is there really any time frame in which assumptions are acceptable?). I wish Arcesio the best! He is in good hands!
Jairo is Survivor Corps’ Strategic Director for Colombia. He’s the only staff member for Survivor Corps in Colombia, but his knowledge, experience, and contacts have made this post second nature for him and allowed Survivor Corps’ program flourish.
Via Survivor Corps Fellows
Juan Pablo Salazar is the young and energetic President of Fundación ArcÁngeles, a partner organization of Survivor Corps in Bogotá, Colombia. Juan Pablo discusses the issue of disabilities in Colombia, how the 40 year + civil war affects the way his organization works, and the partnership with Survivor Corps.
Last day in Bogotá
A week full of interviews and packing in the last of the Bogotá sites has left quite a bit of work for me upon return. I’ve learned so much. I really want to thank Jairo Arboleda for his patience in explaining and sometimes reexplaining what the context of Colombia means for INGO intervention and partnership, the end of the war, and so much more. Jairo was a personal professor for me which goes along with a lot of mentorship. I look up to Jairo for many reasons, but mostly because of his frankness and sober approach to polemic issues.
I have to get up for my flight in 3 1/2 hrs, so I’d better hit the sack, but this blog has not yet been concluded! What a wonderful and rico summer it has been.
Cuando vuelvo? No sé, pero espero que sea prontico.
Saludos,
Lindsey
Marina was half an hour away from being forcefully recruited to the FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia) guerrilla group. Female guerrillas had told her their commander wanted Marina to “work” with him. “Work” in this regard meant helping plan operations and serving as his personal escort. Marina fled to Medellín, just minutes before the female guerrillas returned to take her away, and found herself taken in by nuns in a convent. With help from the nuns, she found work at a daycare and went to school at night and on the weekends, eventually receiving her high school diploma.
The nuns sent her to the little town of San Francisco where a priest was to take on missionary work around Colombia. Marina joined him and upon return settled into life in San Francisco. At just 25 years old, she has worked her way up to Vice President of Renacer con Fe, the organization with which Survivor Corps collaborates on reconciliation projects. She is in charge of programs regarding the forcefully displaced in her area, of which group Marina herself is a member.
Marina has a lot on her hands; raising a 17 month old son by herself, maintaining a relationship with her family who is too afraid of violence recurring around San Francisco to visit her, dealing with the trauma of forced displacement, of almost having been forcefully recruited into the FARC, and worrying about the father of her son who is gone serving the obligatory military requirement.
Marina is a candid person, and that’s what I like about her. She’s not afraid to breastfeed in public, wake me up from naps, ask me personal questions, or be on her own (or at least she hides it well).
Meeting Marina and seeing her rise above the stresses and dangers in her life is amazing to me. One tries to imagine oneself in these situations and think, “What would I do in her shoes.” I hope that I would be as determined as Marina to make life work and give back.
Confrontation with a Colombian paramilitary commander
When Ana Carolina* began participating in San Francisco’s reconciliation forums, space where participants can speak freely about the conflict between the Colombian military, right wing paramilitaries, and left wing guerrillas, she did not have in mind the 4 elements of reconciliation: truth, mercy, peace, and justice. She had in mind her son who had been disappeared several years prior.
After one of the forums, carried out with support from Survivor Corps and partner ConCiudadania, a person who self-identified as “victim” came up to a demobilized paramilitary, Diego, and demanded truths. Diego replied that he knew some things, but not everything. However, his former commanderLuis Eduardo Zuluaga Arcila, alias MacGiver, had answers and was interested in speaking to the victims. Many of the victims, though, were without resources to even think about leaving San Francisco. Diego spoke with MacGiver, who agreed to fund the group’s trip to Bogotá, a nine hour bus ride through the mountains.
40 people made the journey east to Bogotá. Accompanying the victims and paramilitaries, a representatives from local organizations as well as ConCiudadania came along. Human rights defenders joined the group as well.
Everyone had different questions for MacGiver. Although the majority of the disappeared or killed in San Francisco were victims of the guerrilla, some fell victim to paramilitaries, or autodefensas, too. As was the case with one woman. Breaking her way to the front of the group, she demanded to 
know the whereabouts of her missing son. MacGiver (right), a soft spoken of small frame, stated her son’s fate. “Your son is dead, señora,” he replied. After years without answers, she was no longer compelled to search. Although grief took the place of desparate anticipation, she had an answer.
Human rights defenders who accompanied the group had initially been skeptical of the reconciliation process. This group of human rights defenders had believed that justice and protection of rights was the only way towards rebuilding the community. “I thought he [MacGiver] would be a monster,” one had stated. Noting the human side of this commander and the reaction of the mother whose son was concluded dead, this group left the prison with a greater sense of the impact of reconciliation; best articulated by the distinguished John Paul Lederach in a play inspired by conflict transformation workshops carried out in Nicaragua. Each participant would personify Truth, Mercy, Peace, and Justice. ”In [Justice’s] haste to change and make things right, he forgets that his roots lie in real people and relationships.” (read the whole play here)
The point of reconciliation forums such as San Francisco’s, creating soccer teams with demobilized paramilitaries or guerrillas mixed in with victims, holding workshops where each group can intermingle is not solely an end in itself. While these projects are amazingly important for the community, the greater impact is the rippling effect which occurred as a result the meeting with MacGiver. It is attaining understanding of why something, often tragic, occurred and with that information being able to move on with one’s life. Even though the commander of the paramilitary group was behind bars, a person responsible for extortion, disappearances, a few dozen murders he personally committed, illegal recruitment, and even “social cleansings,” this community lacked an essential element to move on.
Lederach best sums up the greater impact of the meeting “[Justice is] the pursuit of restoration, of rectifying wrongs, of creating right relationships based on equity and fairness. Pursuing justice involves advocacy for those harmed, for open acknowledgment of the wrongs committed, and for making things right. Mercy, on the other hand, involves compassion, forgiveness, and a new start. Mercy is oriented toward supporting persons who have committed injustices, encouraging them to change and move on.” While reconciliation forums provided the woman with a disappeared son a space to express her pain, making contact with a real person behind the act provided her with the invaluable: a new start.
*name has been changed
A demobilized paramilitary wants the best for his village
Don Diego feels remorse for his time as a paramilitary. He was in the autodefensas (self-defense forces) for almost four years, only a few months of which entailed an actual combat position. Don Diego was (and still is) close with a paramilitary commander named MacGiver (pronounced, mock-gee-bear), whose autodefensas career began in 1988 after the murder of his brother by the ELN guerrilla group.
Don Diego joined the paramilitaries in 2000. He says he joined to end the injustices carried out by guerrillas which were very active in that time in his village. He wanted to protect people. Because of his close relationship with MacGiver, Diego was appointed as head of social programs for the autodefensas around San Francisco, where both men are from. Through this post, Diego would liaise between the village and MacGiver, coordinating the construction of new roads, infrastructure such as street lamps, and other projects.
Diego’s take on his country’s conflict struck me as suprisingly lucid. The high exposure to propaganda through cable news and the armed groups themselves let alone his obvious bias to the group of which he was a member seemed to not effect his explanation. He was demobilized in 2005 through the Justice and Peace Law, which aims to “negotiat[e] the transition to peace with the right-wing paramilitary groups, by offering them incentives to give up fighting and at the same time redress the victims, ensuring justice and finding the truth.” He is confident that almost everyone from San Francisco involved in the autodefensas has been successfully demobilized, but fears the lack of job opportunities in his village may end up back with the autodefensas in another part of Colombia.
What Diego wanted to make very clear with me is when explaining how the autodefensas worked in San Francisco, is that he is NOT generalizing about paramilitary groups. He can only speak for the San Francisco autodefensas. They took up arms in 2000 because the guerrillas were invading and the Colombian military was not present and did not seem to be planning a presence. He does not know what the other autodefensas do or why they join.
I asked Don Diego, as his friends call him, why he decided to get involved in the reconciliation process. He told me he didn’t have a lot going on (a common situation for San Francisco citizens) and he, without sharing details, he explained that when he first joined the paramilitaries he was involved in combat. Enough said. He seemed to have some skeletons in the closet he did not feel comfortable sharing with me in the presence of his wife (above). He instead emphasized the experience he had as head of social programs. He was also proud to have been the liaison between the encarcerated MacGiver and victims in San Francisco. Victims ended up being about to visit MacGiver in the high-security Bogotá prison where he is serving a 20 year sentence, all on MacGiver’s bill.
Don Diego is proud of MacGiver’s social bent while commander of the paramilitaries around San Francisco. He, like MacGiver, want to see their village succeed. Diego is disappointed with the lack of government subsidies or even interest in his village. He envisions San Franciscan’s harvesting sugar cane or tending to any kind of farming, but does not think the government will provide such opportunities. Until then, Diego is doing his part by participating in reconciliation forums and conflict resolution workshops. Don Diego is surviving life after autodefensas.
This Reconciliation Project Fair commemorates three reconciliation projects in action across the department of Antioquia in Colombia. After more than 40 years of civil war between right wing paramilitaries, left wing guerrillas, and the military, these survivors have overcome unimaginable pain and loss. Watch this video to learn more about the event and each project! Survivor Corps and ConCiudadania contributed to the organizations’ projects.
“I learned how to transform my pain.”
It has not been easy for Martha Gil to learn how to forgive. During guerrilla occupation of her village in 2002, her son was killed. She told me the story with obvious pain still penetrating her body. She fidgeted and stared at her hands while telling me hurriedly that her son is gone. She would quickly look at me, touch my shoulder, then continue her story.
When she decided to take a course on mental health from Survivor Corps partner ConCiudadania, it was very therapeutic. Upon graduation from the course, Martha returned to her village of San Francisco and now herself leads therapy groups for adults and children as a Promotora de Vida y Salud Mental, in English: Life and Mental Health Promoter. “I learned how to transform my pain.”
Martha’s diploma from ConCiudadania which certified her to lead the groups is proudly hung on her living room wall next to two photos of her receiving the certificate at a ConCiudadania ceremony. These three pictures take up half of the photos in the room. She is proud.
Well, turned out I needed to extend my visa, too…
Which included a $34 fee and running all over town getting receipts from banks, photos, photocopies, etc. All because I will be going a week over the 60 day limit! Blast it all.
Only 1 week left…
…and so much to do. After my interviews in San Francisco this week and from a conference a few weeks ago, I’m trying to get everything done while soaking in Bogotá as much as possible. Stay tuned for the Reconciliation Project Fair video which I will finish today. I wish I had gotten about a million more pictures from that event, but so it goes. Ok, I’m going to get to work now on my profiles and video. I’ll be back soon. Also, my Australian friend who doesn’t speak Spanish needs to go to the visa office and guess who gets to help translate. What seems to be a simple trip can often end up being a bureaucratic nightmare. She did say she’d buy me some delicious ice cream from the beloved Crepes and Waffles (a chain which gives opportunities to low-income women). Not sure if it’s going to be worth it…
1 plane + 2 taxis + 3 busetas + 9 hours = Arrival in San Francisco, Antioquia, Colombia
I’m here in a small town only reachable by gravel roads after winding and winding around the Colombia mountainside to meet and collect the stories of the people who are making reconciliation happen. This town, people tell me, was unwalkable at night just 5 years ago and has been transformed. Heavy military operations in 2003 cleared guerrilla forces from the area, leaving this municipio to improve in security each year. I’ve been greated with the utmost openness as is customary I’ve found here in Colombia. I even met the mayor of this town of 6,000 (down from 12,000 when the violence occured in the early 2000s) (the mayor is now seated in front of me at this internet cafe. Having heard all the stories about how you could hardly speak in your house without being spied on by rebel forces let alone play in the street just 5 years ago, I’m impressed and surprised to see what seems to be the entire child and adolescent population of San Francisco out and about at 8:30pm on a Monday night. What transformation! My interviews with victims and excombatants tomorrow will help me delve into how this transformation occured (and continues to occur) and deepen my understanding of what reconciliation means from both sides of the conflict. I hope my Spanish can stand up to emotional stories which don’t slow down for gringa comprehension AND I hope I can articulate my emotions in an appropriate manner. My fears are sounding like a child, insincere, naive or just plain dumb. These previous 8 weeks have been great practice, and I will say I sort of felt like myself speaking in Spanish today. Progress!
When I asked the proprietor of my hotel in Santa Fe de Antioquia if he knew of anyone I could speak to that worked with survivors of landmines or people with disabilities, his eyes immediately lit up. “Herminia Vargas!” Without provocation he already had her on the line and made a lunch appointment for us. My secretary then told me a bit more about Herminia; she was in a car accident which left her in a wheel chair and now runs an organization for children with disabilities. While not exactly what I was looking for, I am still very interested in this subject especially in developing countries. How are children with disabilities seen? What kind of services does Colombian society think are appropriate? Does treatment of children with disabilities in Colombia fit my stereotype of a developing country that hides its kids with special needs?
Herminia showed up to the hotel for lunch about a half an hour late (still on time in Latin America), and immediately lit up the room. She is in her mid 60s, soft spoken, has a great sense of humor, and blunt about the reality of her current condition.
Our conversation started off on the history of her organization, CoLoReSA (Corporación Local para la Rehabilitación de Discapacitados de Santa Fe de Antioquia), of which she is the president. The name of the organization at first caused the skeptic in me to raise questions, “Rehabilitation? It’s not like one’s aim should be curing a disability of a child. Discapacitados? (Eng: Disabled, handicapped) I thought everyone in the special needs community knew it was more dignified to address the human side of the person and then the disabilities, like children with disabilities. I suppose that word mix couldn’t create such a catchy title and probably these considerations have not yet made their way to the countryside north of Medellin.
As Herminia and I talked more, I realized what an enigma she is and perhaps why my hasty hotel manager was so eager to hook us up. Hers is the only organization in the region offering services to children with disabilities. When her accident occurred 9 years ago, she was not sure what to do. Then she started getting more and more involved in the disability community. She was incredibly moved by learning more about the almost clandestine nature of children with disabilities. They aren’t allowed a place in most “regular” schools in Colombia, and most parents can’t afford the special needs schools or institutes. With some money left by a deceased relative, Coloresa was opened 5 years after Herminia’s accident, offering school, physical therapy, psychology, and a community of special needs families supporting one another.
Coloresa is still needing support. Herminia says she knows there are non-governmental organizations with money to donate to organizations like hers and she’s sure there are government grants for children with special needs, but she doesn’t know how to access these channels. I’m hoping to hook up Herminia with the saavy Juan Pablo from Fundación ArcÁngeles for support.
Herminia humbly tells me that Coloresa and her kids give her a reason to wake up in the morning. I can see in her face that it is exponentially more than this. After our talk she and I took a stroll around the little Santa Fe de Antioquia, talking about the points of interest and waving at Herminia’s friends. As we went along, Herminia, gracefully cruising down the cobblestone streets without breaking a sweat, shared with me her vision of Santa Fe de Antioquia as a major tourist destination. The slow lifestyle, the Puente del Occidente, birds, butterflies, the status as former capital of Antioquia department, and…the slow lifestyle were all reasons why tourists would be interested in this small town, Herminia informed me. Herminia is a woman with a vision; a vision for her slow moving town and its children. Though her semantics may not be up to my sensitive standards, Herminia’s dedication and vision is groundbreaking in her region. Herminia lives Rise Up, Give Back.
About me
Lindsey is working with Survivor Corps in Colombia during the summer of 2009. Survivor Corps is a global network of survivors helping survivors to overcome war and rebuild their communities. Follow this blog to get a vista of their work in Colombia.
