My Colombia Experience
2012 Witness for Peace
Beth DuMez
Colombia: entirely new to me; very limited time to become prepared. Witness for Peace: an NGO, about which I knew nothing. I came to define it as a human rights monitoring and advocacy organization.
The delegation: Women Leading, i.e. learning, investigating, strategizing, taking action, committing to trying to bring change.
The reality: Colombia--rich in resources; infused with military and paramilitary power groups; peopled by a gracious, generous populace; plagued by other nations’ exploitations AND assistance; punctuated by both indigenous and slave-descendent peoples; and embraced by a gloriously beautiful Andean environment.
We learned some startling realities:
o The country has endured 5 decades of conflict and violence.
o Agriculture is very diverse (including the coca crop, relentlessly eradicated or attempted to be by U.S.-sponsored aerial spraying, which directly and disastrously affects some farming communities and ancestral settlements).
o Peoples (primarily indigenous and AfroColombian) are regularly displaced from homelands, some settlements of 400-years duration, by federal or commercial interests e.g., expansion of the huge port (Buenaventura), accession to mega-agriculture such as sugar cane, or exploitation of minerals and coal.
o 80 different indigenous groups (we visited the Nonam) are trying to regain land rights and preserve their cultural traditions.
o 73% of these displaced people are women and children; typically the husbands-fathers are conscripted or voluntarily join military groups or work away from their homes.
o People on their lands, who want to and will fight to stay there, are identified as “insurgents.”
o During the first week that we were present in the country, the number of bombings and murders escalated; a new phenomenon is the targeting of civilians.
Arrival
My friend, Judy Dwyer, and I converged in the Panama City airport on our way to the southerly city of Cali, Colombia. (Unfortunately, my camera stayed at the airport. However, I experienced liberation in that my attention could invariably flow to the live experiences).
Judy and I engaged a cab at the Cali airport to proceed to the city and our hoped-for accommodation at Hotel Cora. We were a bit surprised at the cost but subsequently discovered that it is a bit of a journey into the city. It was nightfall. As we approached, we witnessed a glorious, sparkling crown-of-jewels of a city, seemingly floating but perched on a mountainside. Never to be forgotten.
As we were a day early, we found there was no “room in the inn.” Hotel Cora (where the delegation would be ensconced) graciously assigned us to Hotel Las Vegas, one block away. There we became acquainted with Felipe Prieto, the overnight desk clerk. He proved to be a resourceful, poetic, and companionable guy. We adopted him as our guide to the city for the next evening; he adopted us as his “beautiful abuelas.” Around 6pm, we set out to see parts of the city, especially the extensive park along the river and the featured art installation—huge cat sculptures, each decorated (with interpretive description) by local artists. Most of them were fabulously humorous. Dinner followed at a local café, overlooking the park. “Roberto” (immigrant from Italy) provided an entertainingly dramatic pasta dinner of his own choosing. Felipe took photos on his camera. He accompanied us by cab back to our hotel. We learned his life story; he learned about Judy’s. Judy subsequently explored the possibility that he might attend University of Wisconsin/Superior, which has an intentional international student body and international field experiences. (To be continued…Felipe cannot presently do his part financially.)
Our comrades join us
Very quickly, we get to know each other: 2 social workers, 1 psychologist, 1 labor organizer, 1 teacher/radio commentator, 1 student, 1 PhD student/university lecturer, 1 mental health system administrator, 1 native American/teacher. Almost all have moderate or excellent Spanish. I, alone, have zero. Others tolerated me.
We engage in some get-acquainted exercises; we learn of the purposes, schedule, and security considerations necessary.
From the outset, one of our “comrades” isolates herself and expresses many issues, seemingly symbolic of her discomfort and inability to accommodate or “join.” Ultimately, she chooses to depart the delegation. The logistics are challenging and require patience and creativity on the part of Lyn, Jessye, and Carlos. Eventually, the disaffected person is able to depart but her “legacy” becomes a shadow over the remainder of the travels.
The delegates are greatly considerate of each other: our interests, energy, comfort issues, emotional states. We challenge and support each other. Our gifts are complementary.
The Adventures
While it is tempting to describe them chronologically, it seems to make more sense to characterize them as I experienced the visits—some planned, some spontaneous, others in response to a call for support.
Let me try to define the concept of “accompaniment,” which was the essence of several of our connections with groups or people.
“Accompany” is a concept suggesting safety, recognition, and respect for individuals. This may entail being present at rallies, walking in tandem with people from one village to another--awareness, listening to their stories, providing moral support, giving visibility to serious injustices.
Spontaneous accompaniments
Our first foray was to a large park in the governmental center of Cali to accompany civic employees who had been summarily fired without notice or explanation nor any chance of being reinstated. Haydee --also on Senator Lopez’s staff, served as their fluent spokesperson. They had established a small tent city in the park, to make their plight known and to protest. As we waited in the park for one of their leaders, we noticed a furtive photographer/infilitrator/spy “commemorating” our visit by taking pictures of us all.
We next met with injured and sick coal miners, who had set up an encampment in the Simon Bolivar plaza in downtown Bogota to plead their case. They are former employees of an American coal mining company, based in Alabama: Drummond. (www.drummondco.com/news/pdf/news_06152011.pdf). Drummond Company, Inc. and affiliates “have reached an agreement with ITOCHU Corporation (ITOCHU) to enter into a partnership where Drummond will own 80% and ITOCHU will own 20% of a new entity, Drummond International, LLC, that will own and operate the Colombian coal mining operations and transportation infrastructure (the “Colombian Operations”) currently owned 100% by Drummond.” Paramilitary groups have been “protecting the land” in northern Colombia where the mining occurs. Anyone who speaks out on the “circumstances” is sent a death threat. In the area of the mining, children are found covered by soot; flowers and animals are dead. We went to the plaza midday, only to discover a flattened tent. The police had just “evicted” them by kicking and attacking them in their tent. Then the police dismantled it. In the last 5 years of Drummond’s presence in Colombia, 6674 workers have been injured. Initially the miners worked 8-hour shifts but it became 10, then 12 (i.e., 4a.m. to 8p.m.). Typically it is through contractors (intermediaries) that workers are hired, meaning that prospective compensation is skimmed. 80% of the workers have health problems such as hernia, joint disability, spinal and cervical problems, and lung diseases. 300-500 workers have been fired because they are “sick.” Drummond exports 30 million tons of coal per year. The Colombian government has given that corporation permission to build a new port with the goal of exporting 70 million tons by 2013. To date, Drummond has removed 20 square kilometers of roads and farmland.
Buenaventura
This is Colombia’s principal port. There are plans for expansion, which was a main reason that the nearby populace of AfroColombians and indigenous people were displaced to towns and cities unknown to them. Again we drove to a park; it was at the Pacific Ocean’s edge. We met with dock-workers, who are union organizers. Presently workers must appear at the docks, ready (but then WAITing) for work. They are compensated only for the hours they are actually working—sometimes half a day after arrival. The port is a major source for exchange of drugs, weapons, and money. Coca fields punctuate the surrounding rural areas. Their labor issues include: not having lunch breaks, getting paid for only the hours worked (sometimes as little as one or two hours), women never named to supervisory positions, not being aided nor rehired if injured on the job, permit fees required to work (e.g., $25 for one month’s work).
Indigenous, AfroColombian, and displaced peoples
Paramilitary units are omnipresent. The government statistics indicate there are at least 100 massacres and 100 “disappearances” each year. The Naya River basin, near Buenaventura, was victimized by paramilitary actions in 2002. Again in 2010 paramilitary groups displaced people who fled to cities. Another issue is the diseases that result from aerial fumigation of the coca crop. The new road, The PanAmerican Highway (a multi-year project, stimulated by the World Trade Agreement) between Cali and Buenaventura, has displaced e.g., 10 original villages that were at least 300 years old. A great portion of these lands is planned as a secondary port but the rich minerals in the area are also desirable. Some villagers were removed but their people have returned and are thus seen as residing “illegally” on their ancestral lands. Quasi-government consultations involved only 1% of the populace in their informational talks. More than 78,300 people have been displaced. All 36 Colombian states have displaced persons as rich people want control of the vast natural resources. One woman stated: “If you complain, they (FARC) kill you or disappear you. ”Law 73” allegedly protects AfroColombian communities but is violated all the time: land is confiscated, children are recruited to armed groups; families are left behind when men leave to work or join military groups.
The Nonam people of the Calima River were forcibly displaced for two years, taken to reside in a warehouse type building in Buenaventura. The paramilitaries then occupied their land. The Nonam have made a return and resumed their fishing and farming yet adjacent land is being sprayed via the coca eradication project and their jungle farming sites are not respected.
To visit the Nonam people we had the pleasure of a speedy boat trip (yes there were life-preservers) with a single “skipper,” who zipped around treacherous curves and over shallow waters of a rocky river bed. On our return trip we had the added challenge of a torrential rain. Other NGO representatives had joined us; a lot of food was delivered. It was a beautiful journey on a glorious river with jungle on both banks.
While there, the village tribe members (perhaps 30 among 200 residents) told us of their history as we sat in a large circle with them (everything out-of-doors), translated twice—from their language to Spanish, and from Spanish to English. We watched them make simple baskets and beaded bracelets and earrings. The visibly oldest person present—a woman with naked breasts sinking to her waist and wearing a beautiful necklace—had greeted me when I first staggered out of the boat and up the muddy and rocky bank to flat ground. Perhaps she recognized me as a co-elder! It was she who wove the basket as we sat in a circle and I was able to purchase it when it was completed (a lovely treasure with a graphic history).
We ate fresh-speared fish and rice for lunch; we enjoyed a good deal of twice-translated information about their life and fears and were blessed by the village medicine man, who stroked our forearms with branches dipped in holy water. Suddenly it was time to leave as rain was arriving and darkness looming. Our return trip was just as rapid, a bit more wild, and punctuated by heavy rain.
Please have a look at this interpretive video about the Nonam’s displacement: http://www.pasc.ca/en/article/v%C3%ADdeo-indigenous-nonam-community-displaced-its-land
Centers for collectives
The LINK Center along the rural road to the river brings together in peace the disparate people along the Calima and Naya Rivers, whose family members have been massacred or “disappeared.” The U.S. government has been involved in port politics but its interests have focused on the control of the mineral deposits.
RUTA (“The Peaceful March of Women”- La Ruta de las Mujeres) is an umbrella collective of various organizations, whose purpose is “to visualize the effects of war and propose solutions to conflicts as well as developing mobilizations.” An example is a march of 3000 women to protest military encampments. One complaint is that women were forcibly brought to those sites in order to cook and do laundry for the paramilitary recruits. And sex trafficking is especially prevalent in militarized zones. The group also represents indigenous women, who are subject to rape and violence because of their status. RUTA’s opinion is that the state not only takes no protective action but “The state promotes and tolerates violence.” “The government knows how to talk about war but not about peace.” Alarming realities include: 36,000 women a year have abortions; 46% of the abortions are for girls under 14 years of age. We met with them in Popayan, a gleamingl town of mostly white buildings.
Ligia Alzate is a union leader within CUT, an umbrella organization for workers’ unions. The focus of this presentation was on gender violence and the state of women’s self-esteem. Their economic dependency impedes progress toward self-sufficiency. When women are in the workforce, there is a 28% discrepancy in earning power vis a vis men. In Colombia, there are 19 million male workers, 7 million female. Women’s membership in unions is less than 4% and 59% of the women work predominantly in the “informal economy:” taxi drivers, cleaners, sales, restaurant workers, selling food on the street. Many embrace sexual harassment so as not to be fired. Women subjugate themselves in living with dominant males because of their economic dependency. They characteristically have no autonomy. In rural areas, women are usually the heads of households with no male partner. While protective laws have been enacted, they are typically not enforced: women who bring complaints are sometimes killed; “reparations” are typically too meager for recovery and often forgotten or delayed; statistics regarding outcomes of complaints are unreliable.
Daira Quinones is the founder of AMDAE, an organization that advocates for displaced AfroColombians. AMDAE works in various regions to combat violence and help people reclaim their land. The organization describes the invisibility of AfroColombian women; from 1991-2004 the Colombia census documents these women but the government denies the numbers. They see themselves as having unique needs and problems. In migrations or displacements, women are often abandoned by their men and thus have no financial support. The government only recognizes direct physical attacks as “violence” but many other forms of violence affect women. Medical problems are prevalent such as greater than statistically normal incidence of breast and uterine cancers, no access to medical care (e.g., their medical card may be found as not valid, necessary medication is “not available,” their registration or address are not recognized.
Among these collective advocacy groups, these are some of their testimonials:
o We work to improve social policies and give voice to the issues of certain neighborhoods of displaced people (e.g., a 31-year-old woman died last week after NO treatment for her cancer because she was not “eligible” for treatment until age 35).
o Very few handicapped children receive help or medical care… again, laws exist but are not enforced.
o Violence against women is high in certain neighborhoods, especially as women become “leaders.”
o Prosecutors overlook cases of violence against women, police torture certain detainees, there is no follow-up or investigations of death threats against women.
o Sometimes children cannot go to school because of “security” concerns.
o Children as young as 8 are being given drugs and are forced to give them to other children.
o Representatives of human rights organizations are given “protected” status only if they are actively receiving death threats (and then have to report their whereabouts, which could endanger them further.)
o Human rights workers have been given phones as “a protective measure” but, in fact, this is a way that ‘security’ could monitor their phone contacts.
o Ancestral ways of treating medical problems (including purification from praying and protection from 3 specific plants) are disrespected even though there is no incidence of breast and uterine cancer in most indigenous communities.
Yakari
On the first full day of actions, we departed Cali at 4am for a plaza in the center of this town in order to accompany the cane cutters, as they arrived and later departed via buses, from their neighborhoods in the region, to the fields for their day of labor. Hmm: sugar. How much do I consume?! Dynamic Alberto (labor organizer, aide to Senator Lopez) briefed us extensively on the issues as we rode in the van. As the new day dawned, the crowd of cutters—men ready to go to work, some with their machetes hanging from their belts—began to gather. Alberto gave a spirited and challenging talk; all of our Spanish-speaking delegates spoke over the portable loud-speaking system to encourage, to explain a bit about American labor unions, and to honor the workers and recognize their plight: long-hours, seasonal pay, firing if ill or injured…
On the fringe of the throng, gazing beyond that beautiful gathering—an attentive crowd of nearly 400--I watched children walking and bicycling to school, some with parents. The sea of men before us as we stood on an elevated ledge, all listening intently to the amplified discourse, is a scene never to be forgotten. Each would have a story to tell, each a struggle to make a living within the realities of inadequate pay and unfair labor practices. I tried to imagine their families, their meager resources, their hunger for information and advancement, opportunity.
The sun kept rising. The workers needed to board buses that would take each to the field of his labors for the day. We departed…
perhaps transformed in some way.
Facatativa
The floraculture workers and organizers had just completed their Valentine’s Day labors when we met with them on February 12. CACTUS is the organization formed to address health and safety conditions of the overwhelmingly female flower workers. These women make up about 65% of the workforce. Most are hired on short-term contracts of a few months, which are not renewed for workers who become pregnant or ill--often with job-related illnesses. Chemicals used in the cultivation of flowers are proven to lead to various cancers, respiratory conditions, and skin diseases. They often begin their work as young teen-agers. They often must arrive at the workplace at 4am and work shifts of 12 hours or double shifts, such as 2 eight-hour shifts in a 24-hour period. Another person will be hired to replace a worker if she is too ill to show up on a given day.
Ironically, while we were on a walk-about (no flowers in sight, no access to the processing sheds) to get a sense of the rural environment, a truck with amplified sound proceeded very slowly along the road we were on: The electronic announcement stated that there would be no fresh water available in the community for two days upcoming. We deduced that this was the outcome of extreme industrial consumption in order to export for Valentine’s Day. The announcement had ambient sound of cheerful music and trickling water!
The U.S. consumes 76% of the production; Colombia is second only to the Netherlands in export of flowers. Children of the workers tend to live in the streets without supervision at home. Temporary agencies serve as contractors. 65% of the women in the area are dependent on this employment for survival.
Serendipitous experiences:
Meeting with Senator Lopez—This liberal Senator (with two body guards) came to our hostel in Bogota. He had just returned from Washington DC, where he met with Congresspersons, representatives of NGOs, and labor leaders as well as preparing the way for Colombia Days in April, when a delegation, including labor leaders, will come to gain visibility for the country’s problems and meetings will be arranged with elected officials. Ohio Senator Miller and 19 other senators have proposed having a Committee follow-up on implementation of the Labor Action Plan.
Lopez, himself, came from the labor movement in Colombia and those issues along with human rights violations are his major legislative focus. He explained his concern about the conditions outlined in the “Labor Action Plan,” which must be fulfilled by June before the Free Trade Agreement between Colombia and the US can be implemented. The government, however, is “putting up a smoke screen” about these conditions. For instance, the former Minister of Labor has been vying for an international post and thus cannot work directly for the Colombian people. 60 labor leaders have been killed during President Santos’ regime. 2500 death threats against labor leaders have been reported.
Bogota
From and in Bogota we made forays to meet with certain groups. We collaborated in teams to plan our presentation to the Embassy group—five staff people, representing their human rights and legal departments. It was a courteous exchange; they explained some of their oversight duties and initiatives; we described our findings. There were some discrepancies, such as how dangerous (or not) the aerial eradication of the coca fields is. They claimed scientific methods by which those results are measured; we claimed descriptions by affected people of the diseases and disabilities incurred. I stressed the necessity for “verification,” only to ponder later how our information—directly from the people in the regions—was, nonetheless, their stories of their experiences.
I enjoyed visits to the Botero (famous Colombian artist depicting everyone and everything as fat) Museum and the Museo Nacionale a lovely complex of museums of varying themes. Judy and I, accompanied by Carlos* and his sister, took the funicular up and the cable car down Mont Monserrate with its glorious views and constantly changing cloud patterns. A lovely church graces the mountain top; the “stations of the cross” punctuate the path downward.
On our final afternoon, we went back to the tent encampment across from the U.S. Embassy in celebration with the disabled, fired General Motors Chevy plant workers. It was their 200th day of protest. Jessye* made a wonderful lunch for them AND played her violin (an instrument hand-made with her father). The sick and injured G.M. workers have been flying the American flag upside down as a symbol of extreme distress. We learned later that night of the antagonistic state of the Embassy’s marine contingent. We pray for restraint. Early the next day, Judy and I flew to Zihuatenejo, Mexico for a respite. She is staying for a few more weeks.
Life in Between the Learning and Advocacy
Our meals were haphazard yet sufficient. We bought stuff, sometimes at local markets, at times through the van windows from side-of-the-road vendors. If a do-it-yourself kitchen was available, we all pitched in. Our guides/gurus, Jessye Weinstein and Carlos Ruiz, each invited all of us to their sparsely equipped apartments for—miraculously--homemade suppers! For the “anniversary” of the Embassy encampment Jessye made bread and stuffed cabbage and fabulous soup in the midst of all her duties and a certain degree of chaos (we did not herd well). While in the hostel in Bogota, Amy and Kate prepared gorgeous oatmeal breakfasts each morning.
We became a temporary family, supporting-criticizing-rescuing-challenging each other. Carlos is strategically connected with people and issues, so plans changed or evolved responsively. Wearing our blue Witness-for-Peace t-shirts and hanging tightly as a group somehow empowered and protected us. The Spanish fluency possessed by so many in our group expanded our knowledge via authentic conversation.
What remains is to inform my world of what I learned and to find some strategies to help bring change.
*Carlos and Jessye are the Witness for Peace staff. Amy Price, one of the delegates, elected to stay on as a volunteer for a couple of months!
To see pictures taken during this trip, click on this link: www.flickr.com/photos/colombiafeb2012wfp/
To explore a trip with Witness for Peace to Colombia, click on this link: www.witnessforpeace.org