Third Time is Not the Charm
On Friday, the Constitutional Court of Colombia ruled that the current President, Álvaro Uribe, would not be able to run for a third consecutive term this year. This was not guaranteed. Having changed the constitution previously to be able to run for a second term, a referendum was put forward last year to allow Uribe to change the constitution yet again to go for another four years. Most people here would have told you they considered it a toss-up as to how the court would decide, and other candidates seemed to agree as many chose not to announce until they heard the outcome. To Uribe’s credit, he immediately accepted the court’s decision preventing him from running this year.
What this means is that there will really be an honest-to-goodness presidential race this year. It was presumed that if Uribe ran then he would win, so with him out of the picture the Executive seat is much more up for grabs. The first round of elections will be in May with run-offs three weeks later.
We’ll keep you posted…
Shiny Happy People
What I love best about Colombia is its people. They are kind, hospitable, welcoming, thoughtful, gracious, faithful, and funny. They have a sharp wit and love to joke around. I am grateful for their laughter and joy. Indeed my friend once said to me, “In the face of so much pain, you can either laugh or you can cry, and in Colombia we decide to laugh.” And I respect that…most of the time.
Sadness is a tough emotion, and it can be overwhelming – an undertow that can drown you if you are not careful. Still, I don’t think it should be ignored or brushed aside, and my trouble here is that sometimes I think the scale tips too far in the other direction. Joy (and anger) are acceptable emotions, but sadness not so much. When my friend died earlier this year, folks here were sorry to hear it, but quickly changed the conversation or told me to feel better. I can’t really blame them, with as much death as they have seen they have to find a way to move on and dwell not in things of the past. But at what cost?
Part of my concern is that the war that has existed within Colombia’s borders for more than 60 years now has robbed people not only of their loved ones, but of their ability to mourn. Funerals still happen. People still cry. But tomorrow another story is going to be in the papers about body parts found in suitcases (article in Spanish) or the lack of justice following the massacre of 60 people in El Salado (English translation of the newspaper article in this blog post), so people just move on. Or at least they say they do.
Some people, unable to share their fears/sadness/trauma find they have to leave Colombia in order to recover. Others squash it down so far that it winds up oozing out in bad behaviors like adultery and abandonment. And it isn’t just limited to those who have been directly threatened. Second-hand trauma here is fierce and manifests itself in some really frightening theology at times as when a woman told a friend of mine, “God is really punishing the Catholics for their wrong beliefs because not a single Protestant died in that massacre.” A fact most likely untrue and a statement made much more for self-reassurance than anything, but said with a shake of the head and then a desire to move on to other, happier topics of conversation. And therein lies my other fear – that “moving on” turns into “forgetting”, and forgetting turns into “pretending this doesn’t happen.”
That’s taking it too far, and I know that. I also know that people in the United States can be equally as lost on how to manage grief (particularly someone else’s), but I still flinch at the “Don’t Worry Be Happy” take on life. I don’t want anyone to drown in sorrow, but I also don’t want to require sadness to be pushed aside as a bastard emotion that is more or less socially unacceptable. After all, ignoring the undertow doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and keeping people from going in the water just means they never get to feel cleansed either.
And, as my wise colleague Alice Winters notes, part of the challenge is that “grief needs time, and when tragedies and losses come thick and fast there simply is no time – especially if you have children or must take over other responsibilities of the deceased.” Life indeed does go on. So the question is, how do you accompany people in this context – both as a person from the United States but also Colombian to Colombian? It remains an open question, but a vital one if people are going to have the chance to laugh and cry.
Chicharrón
I generally use this lesson to offer only the definition of the given word in Costeñol, but this word has a few more layers…making it all the more fun to figure out when it gets used in conversation.
“Costeñol Palabra del Dia”
Chicharrón (chee-chah-ROAN): noun -
1. A snack food made of the fried skin of a young pig. In the south we know these as pork rinds, however the packaged variety rarely comes with whiskers attached…
2. Used to note that someone (like Mamie for instance) has gotten a fierce sunburn. Possible sentences include:
“Wow, what a chicharrón!” or ”Put on sunscreen or you will be a chicharrón.”
3. A big problem.
Surely you can find some way to work this into your day tomorrow, right?
Missing Ashes
It takes a year to get into the groove of things. I keep trying to remind myself that. My first year at college, I still found whole new buildings as late as May, and my first year teaching – well let’s just say every day was an adventure there. And for my entire first year at First United Church, every season brought new traditions and new special services for which I always had to ask, “What does ‘just like last year’ mean?”
So this year as Lent begins – and I barely even noticed – I have to keep in mind that it takes a year to get used to things.
Part of my trouble is just personal. Having not grown up in New Orleans or Barranquilla or Rio or other places in which huge parties happen right up to the start of Lent, it is a srange adjustment for me to go from wild celebrations to quiet penitence in a singe day. I am used to a more quiet approach to Lent, which makes the reflection necessary for Ash Wednesday an extension/deepening of a process rather than a reversal of it. In many ways I think life mirrors the reversal much more than it does the quiet deepening, so I think I have a lot to learn from this seismic shift; I just think I’ll probably learn it better next year.
The other challenge here, however, is that on Ash Wednesday there are no ashes – at least not for the Protestants. I am sure you could have them. There is no law against it or anything. But, very much like the United States in the 1950s, 60s, and even 70s, ashes on the forehead looks so very Catholic, so why confuse matters… Unlike in the United States, I think this confusion has less to do with social stigma and much more to do with the fact that Colombia is about 90% Roman Catholic according to the Department of State. In order to separate yourself from the crowd, as it were, you have to mark somedifferences - or not mark them, as the case may be - and one of those non-markings seems to be about ashes.
I get it. And I will say that in the Presbyterian Church here I have never heard people talk about “converting” the Catholics (as I did so often in Guatemala). But still and all, I miss the ashes. I miss the ritual itself, but I also miss the reminder that I am connected to all things, that life is short, that the wildnerness of Lent is tied to the cross and that journey is part of my journey in these forty days and always.
So I get it. I really do. And that smudge on my forehead? Oh, it must be from the newspaper ink. I’ll get it off when I get home.
Carnavaaaaaaaaaal!
Whew! We survived it! Each year for the four days prior to the beginning of Lent, there is a celebration that lights up the entire city of Barranquilla. To be truthful, the music and preparations begin here at 12:01am on January 1st, but these past four days move things to a whole different level and do seem to live up to the reputation that Barranquilla’s Carnaval is the second largest in the world – second only to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil.
Here Carnaval is a festival of music and dancing with various parades as the main events each day. To be honest, Richard and I never made it to the largest, most traditional parades that happened on the Via 40. We have seen pictures of the street lined with stands (actually half the street was simply taken over by stands, cutting four-ish lanes of traffic down to two and making my neighbor’s commute an exercise in frustration), but watching from there is quite expensive at about $160,000 COP ($80 USD, or about half our rent). I assume that the larger floats and best organized dancers pass through the parades there, but I don’t have any pictures of them to show you.
We did have a taste of this grander experience a week or so ago when we went to the largest pre-Carnaval parade, the Guacherna, which ran down 44th Street. There the seats were only $5 USD a piece, but the queen danced through, and the costumes were – to sum it up in a word – fabulous. We do have some pictures from that evening here, but you can also see others if you go to Linda’s blog (a current accompanier) who wrote an excellent reflection about the fun and frustration one feels while watching the parades.
This past Sunday we did go to an official Carnaval parade, though it was a smaller, neighborhood parade on 21st Street. There will still throngs of people
in attendance with dancers and folks in costumes, but there was a decidedly less formal air. No seats to rent. No crowd control barriers lining the streets. No big floats with famous people on them. It was, as folks euphemistically say here, “más popular” — more “of the people” — a poor man’s version of the bigger, brighter parade going on further away.
I would imagine that the general gist of both parades was the same, but ours was more homespun. Perhaps it is sort of like the Dixie Classic Fair instead of the World’s Fair – you can have a great time at both, but you are definitely talking different leagues. For example, any music at our parade that was not live was likely to come from one or two speakers strapped to a wheelbarrow rather than a larger than life float. The trucks that rolled through were small delivery trucks advertising meat or milk, and the “prizes” thrown out at the crowd were foodstuffs like pasta and syrup.
But if there was a parade that was grander on the other side of town, there was 
not one that was more enjoyed. People dance and clapped, sprayed shaving cream and flung corn meal, wore costumes, sang, and cheered. The political commentary still shown through with figures dressed up as FARC leader “Tiro Fijo”, Hugo Chavez, Uncle Sam, and Osama bin Ladin. The violence people here take for granted was mocked with variations on images of death ranging from the grim reaper to beheaded corpses walking down the street. And always there was dancing – cumbia, mapalé, garabato, and more.
Some churches here preach that Carnaval is heathenistic and immoral, not unlike denunciations you are likely to hear about Mardi Gras or other large festival gatherings. The Presbyterian Church here certainly recognizes that people can make bad decisions in highly festive atmospheres, but they do not denounce participation on the face of it. Instead they see Carnaval as one more way to celebrate the good life God has given us — music, dancing, eating, and all. They know that our God is a God of joy and laughter who can delight in our joy as well as stand with us in our pain, and after all, the pain of Colombians just has to be balanced out with overabundant joy somewhere, doesn’t it?
What I can say for sure is that Carnaval is certainly quite a show, so go ahead and mark it on your calendar for next year and plan to come catch a glimpse of what celebrating can really look like.
Epiphany Reflection – Deep Waters
This past Sunday I attended church in Cartagena – a town about 2 hours from Barranquilla, and one of the pearls of Colombia. In many ways it reminds me of Charleston, SC. They are both towns of great contrasts – with beautifully kept old city sections geared toward tourists and historic quaintness, and dilapidated areas filled with such dense poverty as to take your breath away. They are both port cities, and as such were slave trading cities, with Cartagena serving as the entry point for virtually all slaves brought to Spanish South America. Both continue to have a large African-descended population which is also over-represented in poorer neighborhoods.
At church on Sunday, the preacher reflected with us on the opening passage in Luke 5 in which Jesus calls his first disciples and tells them they will from here forward be “catching people”. As he pointed out, this text is used most often as a rallying cry for evangelism – to go and spread the good news among all the nations, as it were. His take, however, was different and it has kept me thinking ever since.
"The Miraculous Catch" from www.visiblekingdom.com
Unlike Matthew and Mark (which tell this same story differently), in Luke 5:1-11 the call of the disciples happens as Jesus takes Simon, James, and John out into the deep water (in Spanish, “lago adentro”). The pastor yesterday argued that this text is less a call to go knock on doors and bring folks in the doors as it is a call to really examine your own faith and see what kind of life you are living. After all, the text says Jesus was beside the lake with a whole crowd of people, but he leaves them behind to go out with just a couple of people we come to call his disciples. If this is a “bring in the masses” evangelization strategy, you have to admit it is a kind of weird one.
So what if it isn’t.
What if it is really meant to make you reflect on the path Jesus is calling you to? After all, you can stay on the lakeshore in the crowds and just listen to Jesus – watching him as he sails away with a few folks who were brave enough to really follow him while you discuss the merits and reservations you have about his sermon choice for the day. Or, you can get in the boat and go “lago adentro” – to deeper places that may offer you a greater fill of what you are looking for. Perhaps it is a choice between religious tourism – bathing on the water’s edge – and diving into the slighly scarier, certainly less predictable waters of faith. I think that is a harder message than just “go catch you some people,” and as I said, I have been thinking about it ever since I left church on Sunday. I have been asking myself:
- Where am I just standing and listening (fine for a time, but not for forever)?
- What keeps me from going “lago adentro”?
- At what point do I stop arguing with Jesus and just throw the nets over?
Those are my questions, but maybe they could be yours too…
Life is a Roller Coaster
When the song “Life is a Highway” came out in 1991 I used to turn up the radio in my little Honda and sing my heart out. I loved to have the window down, hair blowing, and thinking that I too was on the highway of life.
Almost twenty years later (wow, really?), I still love the song, but I feel like life is much more of a roller coaster than a highway. I don’t have the sense of a straight open road just waiting for me to take off down it, but rather a series of ups and downs that can be pretty unpredictable and have you laughing out loud one minute and gasping for breath the next.
In Colombia that feeling is all the more pronounced.
- We go from celebrating at a professional soccer game to reading news about a mass grave found in the town of La Macarena.
- As part of a delegation visit we listen to a displaced man as he speaks of being kidnapped three times and scraping out a living on land that has not gotten enough water this year, then we go to a pastor’s house for a despedida (going away party) where eating, laughing and dancing rules the night.
- We take part in a Presbytery planning session for 2010 with high hopes for more emphasis in service, new communities, and education after which people ruefully note that the army members accused of participating in a plot to kidnap young men in a poor suburb of Bogotá, kill them, and present their bodies as those of armed-group members killed in combat (thus reaping financial rewards) are having a spa day with their families to relax them. (Issue summary here. Article about the day of “Clowns, Aromatherapy, and Roasted Pig” in Spanish here. Google translate here.)
Colombia is clearly not the only place where there are roller coasters, but it has some big, impressive ones. I have never really been a fan of roller coasters, but sometimes it is just how things go. The two dangers seem to be getting lost in the valleys and forgetting the hilltops, or – more often here – ignoring/forgetting/erasing the falls and looking only toward the climbs. Still, whether looking up or remembering down, there is always the need to keep in mind the words from Isaiah, echoed in Luke:
Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain. (Isaiah 40:4)
Roller coaster….to highway.
Colombia news from the last week
Ferdanando Botero's "Banderillas 1987"
It took me awhile, but it finally occurred to me to compile some of the many articles and posts about Colombia that I sift through each week. So here is a first installment. The first list is from a English language news source here in Colombia, and second is a collection of blog posts. I’ve also added a news feed of Colombia news on the right side bar, if you need more constant info! More to share?> – Add them in the comments…
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Future of Plan Colombia Remains Uncertain
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Ex-DAS head: Uribe was aware of wiretapping (more info to come on the DAS scandal)
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Re-election referendum loses majority approval
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Government extradited paramilitary bosses to silence them: HRW
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4 indigenous Colombians injured in military attack
Adam Isaacson’s “Plan Colombia and Beyond” blog – a favorite source
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Friday links
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A tale of two headlines
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Senators: “reorient U.S. assistance and diplomacy to our Colombian partner” An important recent letter that many Presbyterians worked to bring about
From the Latin American Working Group – a review of the first year of Obama’s Latin American relations
Gol!!!
So some things about a Latin American futbol (soccer) game I expected — huge stadiums, excellent play, those loud horns sounding all the time. But just about everything else was way more than I expected. From the sheer celebration upon scoring (twice on Thursday’s game), to the absolute silence when the other team scored (also twice on Thursday), to the ecstatic energy of thousands of jumping, thumping, screaming, dancing, waving, jeering fans (and that was just for the national anthem…), the energy and excitement were possibly more than I could have ever imagined.
An official Juniorista, thanks to our neighbor At the game – Go Tiburones! (Sharks)
So our team is Athlético Junior, Barranquilla’s home team, and a pretty good one at that (only allowing for “pretty good” would have gotten me shot at the game). The game was the first round of the Copa Libertadores (an all South American tournament) against Team Racing (said RAH-sing) from Uruguay. It will continue until August, and the hopes (as always) are high. Sadly, much like those precious Cubs, Junior can often wrench defeat out of the jaws of victory. Still, we managed to gain the 2-2 tie in penalty time, which was pretty sweet, and left everyone feeling like an outright win. On to Montevideo!
(You can get quick updates on the 2010 Copa progress here.)
Guess Who’s Coming to Advocacy Days?
Okay, so it is probably not going to get made into a movie with Sidney Poitier, but it is still sure to be worth your time….
Ecumenical Advocacy Days March 19-22 Washington DC
A Place to Call Home: Immigrants, Refugees, and Displaced Peoples
www.advocacydays.org
Richard and I are planning on returning and attending the conference as well as going to the Hill on Monday, so we hope you can join us! Consider this a very tangible way that you too can accompany the church here without taking quite such a long trip. We hope someone from the Iglesia Presbiteriana will be able to come and share as well, so you will be able to meet some of the folks we work with first hand. Hope to see you in Washington!
