Visit to the CDP: Memories and Voices The Chivero Station
Apartado welcomed me with its burning heat and city sounds mixed with the aroma of bananas stacked in bundles to inevitably absorb the sun`s heat and color. The Calle 
Principal looked different as new businesses have opened, but the old Postal Office still stands in its original spot and the BBVA is still packed outside with long lines of costumers on the same highly transited corner. Although I was still a Chivero ride away, I already I felt closer to my final destination: The Comunidad de Paz. And yet, it felt as if time was running slow, imitating the same pace with which the campesinos go about their daily labor in the open green fields of the surrounding mountains. The city seemed to have a particular order despite the random people yelling, “A la orden, A la orden!”, mixed with,“Minutos, minutos” since together they fused a melody that included the spurts of the honking cars. But such an atmosphere does seem natural for this region if one imagines that a place and its people respond to the history of its creation. If the city is filled with sounds, the terminal is just a by-product of the city´s default state. To me, the all familiar Terminal de Transporte is a reduced micro-version of the city where anything can happen--where someone´s watching your movements as a foreigner in the region--and all of the sensation that is generated in such a tense environment that camouflages behind friendly smiles and individuals working. To my surprise people are now allowed to enter the Terminal from the side gate where the transportation vehicles exit from (this was prohibited when I was in the team). The Chivero to San Jose is still stationed in the same corner and they are still loaded with more people and items than you can imagine. My eyes were trying to notice everything, especially any familiar faces in the midst of all the sounds of buses honking and men yelling “Chigorodo, Turbo, Mutata, vamos salen ya, Chigorodo…” This cacophonous seemed to bring to life the strong fish odor coming from the dozen stands that were all aligned right on the sidewalk adjacent to the Chivero Stop; thankfully, such smell overpowered whatever strong body sweat odor I was emanating on my own at this early hour in the morning.
I got on the Chivero with the FOR SJA team and immediately noticed some of the members of the CDP who were sitting inside! I was so excited and they, of course, were eager to find out if I was here with FOR or not since they said I looked different without the baby blue letters on my torso! As far as we all know, the Chivero is not the safest place for in depth conversations so we started joking and sharing small talk, including the inevitable jokes about the girlfriends and boyfriends that FOR members “secretly” have in Apartado (often times they joke about the Forista´s overnight stays in Hotel Tayrona or the cheaper neighbor). As I expected, the road was still the same rocky, muddy, and inconsistent path all the way to San Josecito. However, what did change was the addition of two more military check-points along the way. The Chivero was stopped three times (in one check-point the driver was not asked to stop). It still makes me feel uncomfortable to observe how the Military men portray a macho attitude with their impenetrable straight faces, highlighted by the conspicuous adornment of their mighty weapons along their waistline, and their trained solid voice when they ask folks for “La Cedula”.
San Josecito de la Dignidiad: La Holandita
La Holandita has also changed and grown in just a year and a half since I last visited! The 
first house that I looked for was Doña Diosa`s and I was sad to find out that the family who lived there had all moved out. It was not until that afternoon that I was able to get to her new house and finally enjoy her hug followed by her fantastic 
tintico! There are some families that have moved out to the surrounding veredas, and some families have accommodated themselves in other houses as nature has succeeded in increasing the number of family sizes! The kids immediately recognized the arrival of someone else and came out running to see who it was! I met so many new babies and noticed how the ones that I remembered as the “little ones” now had wider jaws and larger eyes; nonetheless they had retained their innocent curiosity. But it was undeniable that they had gotten older. In a matter of minutes the international house had kids busting in and out and swinging on the hammocks as comfortable and as freely as their legs and arms allowed them to (I mean four at a time in each of the two hammocks hanging by their extremities in all acrobatic possibilities).
The CDP has also continued building on new projects. 
They have recently finished a sugar cane mill and are in the process of constructing a combination of Chapel/Museo de la Memoria, which is going to be right next to the Kiosko, in the grassy area that is at the center of the community. Luckily enough for foreigners who come and visit, the restaurant still opens during lunch hour, but according to the ladies that manage it, it has been a slow season.
And some of the members of the Holandita have a Pescaderia which is really a man-made pond with fish they raise for consumption during Semana Santa! And well, what is the man who got out of business after Comcel placed an antenna and displaced his minutero station suppose to do for a living?
All in all, In San Josecito I was greeted by the smiles, the hugs, the questions about my travels and the repetitive constant one “Hasta cuando se queda?” followed by, “Y Camila cuando viene, y que sabe de Chris?”
La Union and the Visita Marathon
Walking towards San Jose, Martin (the newest FOR SJA team-member) pointed out the enormous Police Post located on the top hill that can be seen from a distance. I remember that an old shanty post was 
there my first year with FOR but it seems that the military has prioritized its funding and were quite extravagant with their architecture for a campo zone. It looks like it could be a Polo Club Resort and I just wondered how much this affects the dynamic of a place where a Police Post is more important than the community´s school or even the roads when it comes to prioritizing investments and development in the region. But then again this doesn’t surprise me given U.S foreign policy when it comes to leading military strategies and investments in Colombia. After all, who trains the Colombian Military, police and Strategists?
The hike from La Holandita to La Union seemed shorter than what I remember but I attribute this to my eagerness to arrive and see the familias! I went up with two of the current FOR team members: Marion and Martin. I must confess I was a bit nervous wondering how out of shape I would be for the hike up and the crossings of the quebradas. But, luckily it had not rained much and the path was dry and the river crossings were no major setback. As expected, we all stopped at the Casa de los Bolis and said hello to the family and chatted until we cooled-off. After much laughter I got the inevitable interrogation “ …Y Sarita, Y Amanda, y los otros voluntarios, y Pablo, Y la otra mona que se me olvido su nombre, y X, y Y, y Z, y el otro muchacho ¿Cuándo vienen?”...
En La Union!
After passing through the intimidating herd of cows that always make me nervous despite their silence (I think it is the way they look at passersbyers), my heart was racing with excitement and anticipation! When we finally opened the last gate on the way to La Union (or the first gate out of LU), I saw the kids playing in front of their houses. Ander is all grown up and handsome, and Sarita and the little sister they are so beautiful! And David and Juni, they all came and said hello and started telling me the kid chismes of the day. After the first half an hour I felt right at home. I was soon hugging people and laughing and excusing myself for being all sweaty and musty and I felt that I could get away with it because I had not hugged them in way too long!
After many short hellos I preceded towards the FOR house passing through the ne
ighbors homes and smelling the agua panela boiling in their fogones. I must confess that I did not know how I was going to feel once I walked into the FOR house and to my surprise it felt as though I never left. After unloading my bag in the room (aka Bat-House, or kitchen house), I then went to the other more rustic and campo style house to see the huerta, to breathe the fresh air and walk on the wooden floors with all of its familiar creaks and fissures. The house looked really nice and I felt that I was time traveling for a while. I could easily recall so many hours sitting in the plastic chairs with my teammates reading and analyzing petitions, Semana articles, and the training manual. It was easy to bring back to life so many memories as there are pictures on the doors and on the walls that have survived time and mold.
It was not until I came back to the kitchen-house that I noticed how much it has improved! The team has done a great job at modifying it, painting and making it more welcoming! They even have a library organized in the second room where all of the bat poop used to fall both freely and mercilessly.
Since my first day in La Union I did not stop visiting folks, eating arepas, hearing about the workdays, about their illnesses and about 
their sorrows and worries, as their voices continued to express strength and determination as they did 
the first time I ever heard their stories in 2007. And I realized that there is no other story that has been told more times, as repeatedly and as compulsively than the infamous snake sancocho that was made and shared with some CDP members. Still it makes us laugh to hear about who “knew” it was snake stew and who “was fooled” into eating, who vomited, and who got pist-off. Of course it has helped that many of the FOR volunteers have been vegetarian since the Snake Stew experience but there are always those comments from CDP members stating “You are eating rabbit food! You eat the pasto just like the cows!”.
There were many shared moments in which I felt that the privilege I had was not comparable to anything else in the world, 
especially when I would sit in their kitchens and listen to their jokes and see how much love they expressed in every cup of milk, tinto, or agua panela that was offered to me. I noticed that they cared to know about my life as they asked me about my family and worried about the fact that I had not gone to visit my own country since leaving Colombia. I felt fortunate to have had the opportunity to come back to remind them that I too worry about their well-being and express in my own voice the recognition of their courage and the value of their convictions. I wanted to come back to personally witness that they were still standing despite the fact that the issues, the threats, and the complications continue to create moments of crisis followed by the inevitable waves of fear in their hearts. I did not attempt to speak for all Volunteers; however, I did state that anyone who has worked with the CDP knows that it is an unforgettable experience thanks to the greatness of their heart and the courage seen in how they have consistently paved their way defending life: Vivir con Dignidad. I realized having a utopist perspective on a peace movement will lead to disappointment but having respect and a notion of everything that entails creating a peace movement in the middle of a war zone merits admiration and lifelong respect. There is so much one learns from sharing and living in the CDP because we become keen to observing how on a daily basis and in what may seem like small steps, they have accomplished HUGE objectives.
Sharing with the FOR TEAM:
My visit to the CDP was also pleasant and possible thanks to the support I received from the current team members: Isaac, Mario, and 
Martin. They openly shared their current space/home with me and I confess that I totally exploited their kitchen and found myself welcoming visitors (except for Zoila who is the only CDP member who comes in as a true anarchist, uses the kitchen and serves herself a cup of coffee at any given moment she pleases) and freely making pots of tinto every night. They allowed me to interrupt them with my sporadic story-telling and never ending departures and arrivals from house to house.
When I was in the SJA we had visits (Gilberto and Pablo) and temporary volunteer service from a few ex-volunteers (Sara W. and Danny) and that is when I realized how important it is for us to keep the Memoria de FOR updated. There are stories to share, gaps to fill in regarding family ties and accompaniment experiences that help to analyze and understand the history of the CDP. After this visit to the CDP I realized that most of this is shared through dialogue. The Reality is that with so many of us leaving after 12-18 months of work large quantities of information also leaves with us. At best we can preserve some of those valuable experiences through conversations that never get written down (as it would be crazy and impossible to do so). As a visiting ex-volunteer I was able to appreciate how enriching is for the current team when an Ex volunteer comes back and shares lived experiences, reflections, and offers comments and perspectives that could have also been developed “outside of context”.
I believe that there is a FOR-volunteer bond that is a default given the context of our work and the reality that 
comes with wearing the BLUE FOR SHIRT that becomes your new skin for months in the field. Although we all have our unique experiences and our own opinions, we still use the same points of references to describe our feelings as foreigners who seek to create lasting trusting relationships with others. The difficulties and the challenges vary from team to team, yet we all know what “last minute petitions created for analysis and security” and what “changing plans five minutes after you just took off your boots” means when you thought you were going to read the stack of emails you have not read but instead prepare your pack for the next accompaniment. And all of this without mentioning the ups and downs of high tension moments and encounters with aggressive authorities who look at you like the “imbecil util.”
In summary, I feel very fortunate to have been able to visit the CDP once again and to continue to learn and share with the FOR team.
It would be INCREDIBLE to be able to have a FOR Ex-volunteer Reunion in Colombia soon!
