Returning: The Constant Hope

Retorno: the materializing of the individual and/or community member’s—who were forced to displace due to violence, threats, mega-projects, massacres, fear, etc.—wish to return to the home and/or land. A retorno is what most displaced people aspire, wish for, and hope to experience in the near future. But for most of them a retorno is a highly unlikely possibility. Those who wish to return have to face a series of complex factors that conglomerate to build a great wall of bureaucracy in front of their greatest desire. Thus, their most desired wish transforms into a battle of perseverance and hope- not giving up and hoping that somehow they can manage to return “home”. In some cases, however, barriers that prevent individuals extend beyond bureaucratic battles. There are many families that fear for their safety and although they wish to return to their land, the high levels of violence that forced them to abandon their homes to begin with, still remain as vivid memories in their mind. What they fear is a de´javu: the repetition of death, violence, and threats; they fear reliving the trauma of leaving their home behind again. Not limited to this, other displaced families have discovered that they no longer have a home to return to. These families face the dilemma of having to prove that they are the legitimate owners of their land. Their land that is now repopulated and/or has become private property belonging to some foreign corporation that is probably in the hands of paramilitary groups. In most cases, these corporations seek to produce single-crop farming in rural areas and manage to “legally” take ownership of the land that was left behind by civilians who hoped to one day return.

Not surprising though, it is economic factors that greatly encumber families from returning to their land. These displaced families seldom have employment or social welfare assistance to maintain self-sustainable lifestyles and live with the bare minimum amount of goods. Most displaced persons who had to abruptly abandon their homes were forced to leave behind their material goods, crops, animals, clothes, furniture, tools, machinery, etc. The complex situation that most displaced families are forced to endure is made up of a combination of all of the above mentioned conditions that stand to hinder them from returning home; a home that is not far from them in geographical measurements, yet is fundamentally and practically unreachable.

Aside from strong will, tolerance, and a strong mind, planning for a retorno requires extensive commitment, effort, and resources which are apart from social and governmental entities that are willing to fund and support such process. How will household heads sustain their families, feed them from scratch? Who will assist them with purchasing seeds, tools, and machinery necessary for agricultural production? Who will guarantee that they will be able to have food while they are waiting for their harvest? How will government forces guarantee that these returning families will not be forced to displace again? As one displaced person put it, “even if we get support to plant our seeds and grow our crops, it takes weeks and months before we can eat those goods; in the meantime who will feed us and what if we are forced to leave again after working hard to reestablish ourselves?”

The Retorno to Mulatos
I remember my first conversation about a retorno when I first started volunteering with FOR and came to the Peace Community in March of last year. The idea of a retorno was one of the reoccurring themes discussed as part of the physical accompaniment that we would be taking part in. The retorno to the hamlet (vereda) of Mulatos was a subject that had great significance for the members of the Peace Community. It was in Mulatos where in 2005 a massacre took place and 8 people were assassinated:
(see: http://isla.igc.org/Features/Colombia/MassacreFeb2005.html). One of the victims was Luis Eduardo Guerra, a highly recognized leader in the community. This unfortunate event brought much fear to the civilian population and families were forced to displace, fearing that they too would end up killed by the paramilitaries. For the Peace Community, the massacre denoted that the civilian population continued to be a military target and that it was unsafe for families to continue working and living in the more isolated settlements of San Jose. The Community also knew that many families had crops and property that could not be left for armed factors to make use of in their terrorizing rendezvous, so they never gave up the hope of one day being able to return to Mulatos.

This year, the Attorney General called for the investigation of 69 soldiers for their collaboration in the 2005 massacre Additionally, the captain of the Velez Battalion, Gordillo, is currently in jail facing accusations for participating in the massacre. The 17th Brigade, which has jurisdiction in the Urabá region of both Antioquia and Chocó, has a vast history of violence and has been excluded from receiving Plan Colombia funding due to the human rights violations attributed to their soldiers and Generals in the past such as General Rito de Alejo.
(see: http://isla.igc.org/Features/Colombia/MassacreFeb2005.html) What is astonishing is that it has taken the Colombian authorities and investigators almost three years to take action and incarcerate those accused of collaborating or directly participating in the 2005 massacre. The community, however, asks, “And what about all the hundreds of other cases of human rights violations that have not even been looked at?”

Last year, the community started planning a retorno to Mulatos. Nonetheless, as part of the government’s rural development and social assistance projects local city officials started promoting a retorno of their own. Last year local newspaper Urabá Hoy published that “2,000 persons were returning to Mulatos and that the state would be funding this return”. The truth is that this was a false statement. During their retorno campaign, officials bused into San Jose trucks full of people that were not from the San Jose region, took pictures of the multitude and published them in the local newspaper stating that all those families were going to be returning to San Jose and Mulatos. Nonetheless, at the end of the day—after the pictures were taken—the bus left San Jose and the 2,000 displaced persons were not seen again. Given this, the Peace Community did not want to support the state’s phony retorno or be perceived as if it were participating in the propaganda and false initiative. Instead of moving on with their plans, the Peace Community decided that it would be more appropriate to put their plans on hold.

A place called “home”
This last month, on the 21st of February, the Peace Community decided that they were ready to return to Mulatos. Seven families from the Peace Community were ready to once again make a living in the rich land of Mulatos. The Community decided that along with the retorno, they would also be commemorating the 2005 Massacre and honoring the memory of those who have been killed in their struggle to live in a context that seeks an alternative to the conflict in the region. Along with FOR and Peace Brigades International as physical accompaniers, delegates from Witness for Peace, Red-Italiana (Italian Support Group for Colombia), Tamera-a peace community in Portugal-, a Spanish journalist and Colombian researchers came to witness and offer their support to the Peace Community.

The mules and horses were loaded with the dozens of backpacks, hammocks, gallons of waters, and sacks full of rice, beans, and panela for the retorno. Community members had been planning this for many months and they were all excited to finally be able to materialize their goal of returning to Mulatos. For some of the campesinos (peasants, rural farmers), it was the first time they had returned in many years since some families displaced from the area in the 90’s due to the increasing levels of paramilitary violence in Urabá. For some of the youngsters it was the first time they were going to the much talked about Mulatos. It was nine in the morning and after putting on sun block, hats and rubber boots we all started to make our way up the mountain. The trail along the mountain path was a diverse and colorful one with people of all ages, sizes, and physical capacity. As some struggled to climb the steep mountains others suffered from unquenchable thirst, but all shared the same feeling of solidarity with the campesinos that did not break a sweat as they gracefully skipped stones and avoided mud paths. It was clear that their physical capacity is worthy of admiration, and the fact that they have to walk long distances in order to purchase goods or sell their crops is worthy of great respect. One after another, we continued up the mountain, across the river, the humid jungle-like tunnels of weeds and wild plants, the muddy terrain, the slippery downhill and the never-ending steepness of the Urabá Mountains. After eight hours we finally made it to Mulatos Medio, to the exact location where the bodies of Luis Eduardo, Beyanira, and the child were found. There was a small chapel built there in their honor. As people passed the chapel, it was hard not to think about the cruelty and injustice that ends up manifested in dismembered bodies and sends a force of fear upon communities. And it is admiration that one feels when witnessing a community that does not give up or surrender to the fear that is constantly at their doorstep.
The words of a Peace Community Member in memory of the 2005 Massacre:

“On this day, we sadly commemorate the third anniversary of the massacre of our community leader Luis Eduardo Guerra, his son Deiner Andres Guerra Tuberquia, and Beyanira Areiza along with an entire family that always lived in unity: Alfonso Bolivar Tuberquia, Sandra Milena Muños Posso, a six year-old and 18month-old baby. This incident deeply affected our entire community, in particularly the loss of the three children: Deiner, Natalia, and Santiago. Three fully innocent children. What were they guilty of?…Nothing at all. They were just children, just like the very word child connotes: innocent. Deep sadness is what we all felt. Luis Eduardo was one of the founding members of the Peace Community. He resisted until the end, always maintaining neutrality, and defending our peace processes. He was a warrior, strong worker, honest, responsible, fair, and honorable. His death was a huge loss for our community because he was fully committed to our peace process. He was, always sure of himself and he gave his life to struggle for our community. He died with his head up high, proud that he was offering his life without betraying his community and being a great example for us to follow to continue to struggle for our community. I wrote this in honor of his memory. -Kelly Johana Asprilla Garzon, 12 year-old Peace Community Member

That night there was a spectacular lunar eclipse. It was almost symbolic for the occasion: the moonlight darkens for a moment, and in slow motion, it once again claims a space for its light as it gracefully illuminates the night sky. That night, the Peace Community members were living a moment of light after being forced to leave their land—they were finally returning to Mulatos. Although the fear for their safety is not something that could easily leave their mind, for a moment it seemed that the primary sentiment was that of joy with a dab of nostalgia.

La Resbalosa
The next day we walked for a couple of hours up another steep mountain to visit La Resbalosa. It was here that the other five people were killed in the massacre. The Peace Community had a ceremony to honor them, actively practicing the act of nourishing the memory of those victims of crimes against humanity. Preserving these stories is a way in which the Peace Community seeks to resist impunity from reigning in their consciousness.
In La Resbalosa there was a somewhat abandoned structure that had a scent of humidity and dust. This place was once upon a time a school. Today, it stands mostly empty, except for the graffiti on the walls and doors with anti-guerilla commentary and aggressive language. One of the messages reads: “Turn yourself in, Sonnovabitch guerilla¨ and “AUC is here”. The Peace Community hopes to once again open the doors to a classroom setting and find funding to educate those children who live in the most remote rural areas.


Going Back
After the second night in Mulatos it was decided that we were going back to San Josesito and La Union. It had rained the previous afternoon, and hammocks and floor mats were wet, people were hungry, dehydrated, constipated, or with cramps and diarrhea. In those settings, it is only campesinos that have the physical condition to adapt to conditions of limited resources in rural settings, while the foreigners have to face a series of uncomfortable symptoms. More so, the accompaniment was cut short because of last minute adjustments to the schedule. After breakfast the large crowd parted and we started the hike back on the same path that only a couple of nights before was dry and “easier” to walk on.

The same hills were waiting for us except that the previously down hills were now up hills and vice-versa. The forest green continued to mesmerize the naked eye and brown mud did not cease to tug at our boots each step of the way. I kept on trying to see if I recognized key points that would indicate how much farther we had to go…
After six hours and a shade of darker brown, we finally arrived back to San Josesito. Although my feet were swollen and I had blisters between my toes, it is hard to measure the growth that comes after experiencing the materializing of people’s hopes and aspirations, to be able to see ideas and visions come to life in a collective manner, and to understand one step closer the meaning of resistance, struggle, respect, and solidarity.

A Comission of Solidarity

Along with the holidays, December brought much tension to the region of Urabá. Traditionally the end of the year is always a period in which the violence in the region increases. Lately, the Peace Community has also been concerned about the widespread rearming of paramilitary groups in the region. As one Peace Community member said, “This strong presence of paramilitary groups brings much hostility in the zone, making peasants feel unsafe and threatened.”

In order to make more visible the solidarity with fellow campesinos in outlying villages where the presence of paramilitary groups is known to be stronger than state forces, the Peace Community organized a commission on the 18th of December to Nueva Antioquia. This is one of those villages known for having a strong paramilitary presence and where campesinos feel highly threatened and at-risk of displacement. In November and December, five civilians where killed despite the fact that both the army and the police have a permanent presence in the region. This village is located outside the urban limits of the coastal city of Turbo (about 30 minutes north of Apartado).

Members of the Peace Community asked FOR to accompany the commission of about 20 civilians. Peace Brigades International and two observers also accompanied the commission from MAPP-OEA (Mission to Support the Peace Process of the Organization of American States). Given that the MAPP-OEA has been leading a nation-wide project that is responsible for observing and documenting paramilitary demobilization and the rearming of these illegal groups, their presence was perfect for the occasion.

On Tuesday morning, fellow FOR peace team member Kevin and I got up really early to pack our bags with all the basic supplies needed for the long walk across the green mountains. We were warned that it was going to be a total of three days from La Union to Nueva Antioquia and back. So we packed our hammocks, water filter, change of clothes, snacks and put on our long socks and rubber boots. We left La Union around 11am with a large group of community members of all ages, the MAPP-OEA observers, and about eight horses and mules that were carrying food and supplies. The first two hours challenged my physical endurance since it was mostly uphill. The path was mostly dry but there were many small chunks of mud mixed with horse poop and water. We walked across cornfields, cacao trees, and through places where the humidity is trapped between the trees and plants that give shape to the isolated jungle.

We arrived dehydrated and hungry to La Esperanza around 6pm. Some members of the group organized themselves in a corner of the empty house that is used as a kitchen and prepared our very common rural Colombian dinner: white rice with tuna. Tired, cold, and in awe of the beautiful clear night sky we sat on the front porch to listen to Community members explain the next day’s plan of action and the concerns they had for their safety. We would leave at 8am for Nueva Antioquia the next morning. It was projected to be a four-hour walk with the blazing sun over our heads. The more I thought about the long walk that awaited us, the more anxious I got. I was unable to sleep because of the cold temperature and with all the dogs barking, I just kept turning side to side wondering if we were going to run into any illegal armed groups that operate in the area.

We got up early the next morning, had a cup of panela and immediately started the walk towards Nueva Antioquia. The goal was to get there early so that we could get back to La Esperanza with the sun still out. We had walked and sweated for a good three hours when we finally arrived at a point where we crossed the river to a settlement known as Playa Larga. As we were crossing, we noticed that there was a camouflaged uniform over a large rock with a vest and a small backpack. When we turned to our left we saw that there were two individuals standing over the river. One of them was bathing while the other one in full army-style uniform and holding an AK-47 in a way that seemed like he was keeping guard.

The MAPP-OEA observers approached the two unidentified men and after they introduced the reason for their presence in Colombia, asked the uniformed men who they were. According to the MAPP-OEA, the unidentified individuals responded that they were part of the 17th Brigade of the Colombian Army. Nonetheless, they were unable to indicate which battalion they were part of because “they forgot.” And the usual battalion patch on the sleeve of the uniform was oddly absent from their uniforms. This caused great suspicion in the Peace Community’s eyes: how is it that members of the 17th brigade cannot identify which battalion they are part of, and where was the required battalion patch on their sleeve? Why were these two men alone and not with a larger more visible troop of soldiers if they were indeed with the 17th Brigade? The Peace Community believes that these two men were part of the larger group of paramilitaries that are operating in Nueva Antioquia. Urabá continues to be a zone of constant conflict because of the presence of the FARC, the continuous drug trafficking that takes place, and the fact that the state forces are still trying to gain control over certain strategic territories. One can assume that troops would normally travel in large groups to increase their security because of the probability of conflict at any given time. This leads me to agree with the community's assessment; If these men are part of the illegal armed group of paramilitaries that according to the Peace Community operate and have a strong control in that zone, wouldn’t they feel forced to say that they were part of the 17th brigade to the MAPP-OEA?

In order to understand why the Peace Community feels it is important to make visible the threats posed to the civilian population by illegal armed groups, one must consider the context of Urabá, the history of paramilitary groups in the zone and the territorial power that campesinos say paramilitaries are gaining. These types of commissions, these visible acts of solidarity are one way in which the civilian population aims to prevent killings and displacements before they happen.

We made it back to La Esperanza that same afternoon right before sunset. The commission spoke with a few public officials who had offered very limited information, but we felt that it was still important for them to know that we as extranjeros (foreigners) were in the area. The next morning we headed back to La Union ever so tired but feeling relieved that everyone in the commission made it back safe through the ups and downs of the Urabá mountains.

October the Saturday

ONLY if you feel: ONLY IF YOU FEEL:

My tongue… it beats fast…

Languages have all meanings
Understand
Wait
Listen
Sangreeeee
Songs tell us to think about forgiveness
But do we really know each other?
Knowing the other
Not the same
US
Again
Lost between knowledge and truth
Lies we digest
And again
We question
Truth
We begin with the self.
The self is in the process
of discovering
discovering
discovering

The purpose of its consciousness
And we think
And we feel
Fall in love.
Broken heart
A heart is healed
A heart feels
Dying as it bleeds lonely with only
A single bird
Bird
Bird

Singing a
Single song
One of a kind
Kind
Kind
Like that thought you never believed was yours
Yours
Yours
In the moment

Songs again, it begins with another person telling us what the best words are to describe the internal hells that we hope can soon become heavens

And we believe that a difference can be made
And it is
Created
No the same as always
But always a difference
Is made

Lives dedicated
Time fractured
Martyrs.
Martyrs
Mares

Counting lives
Forgiveness.
Forgotten
Again
Lets live.
Lets’ feel
Life is what we make of it, but Aristotle believed that we each had a purpose and a place.
The disorder is the default.
How I like that word
Guessing

What is yours?
Passions
Yeah, I’ve heard of that before.
And we believe again
In us.
Who are U?
Why?
Porque
Espera
Lies they tell you.
Truths we search
Love unconditionally.
Pain undeniable.
Meditationnnnnnnnn
And we yet believe that there is a Mars and a Pluto called a moon
You look at ours every 28 days.
Sangre….

Roja
Azul entre las venas
And you count the cycle if you are she in this horizon.
You
Î
Yo
That creation
That imperfection
It the perefection…I will survive….once I was afraid..I was petrified…
Thinking I could never live without you by my side….
You know I don’t know the words
Creatures.
fallling
We believe.
Love
You.
I.
W
E.
Amen
Sin religion
We are supposed to have a good time.
Messages
Live it.
Hey hold on a second.
Love first

And none of us are ever lasting
Forever
…,

WE ARE ALL GOING
You hear me?? ? ? ? ? ? ?

I hear YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU


A fountain from the heart……that’s the name of the poem that began with:
Its totally real


Synergy
Synergy
Synergy


A fountain from the heart….
I see you flying
I see your heartbeat.
That is what you look like
Because your heart is open right now

Please don’t’ be afraid to experience the truth that will penetrate what the system doesn’t let you access…

Search for it…
It has your name….
Crazy like perfection

I was more than that
I was more than that
I was more than that

Thousands of People Gathered in Arauca

Suffering into Courage: Thousands of Campesinos Gather in Arauca to Give Testimony

Located on Colombia’s mid-eastern border with Venezuela, Arauca is known as one of the most volatile departments (or states) in the country. The presence of oil companies and illegal armed groups, and its location in a geographic region that is strategic for war purposes leads to it being one of the most militarized areas of the country. The high levels of violence coincide with extremely high rates of poverty, despite Arauca’s abundance of natural resources.

Thousands of people attended a large public hearing in Saravena, Arauca on September 27. That Thursday, individuals were invited to speak out against the crimes against humanity that they either experienced firsthand or witnessed. It was also an opportunity for individuals to actually document, with the assistance of lawyers, those experiences that would otherwise remain only in their memory, separate from any judicial process. In a country with staggering levels of impunity, having an official record of a human rights violation is the first step in trying to diminish the invisibility that engulfs such abuses.

Moreover, this public hearing guaranteed the presence of a diverse group of listeners, including the Argentinean Ambassador, a representative of the Organization of American States peace process monitoring team, international observers such as FOR, Peace Brigades International and International Peace Observatory, Colombian lawyers, and a significant presence of both military and police officers. But the largest audience was composed of campesinos and humble individuals who were ready to actively witness and give voice to those experiences that often have been suppressed by the fear that has penetrated deep into the social fabric of this country.

This space may be the first step of what could be a national process of truth and reparation for Colombia’s victims and survivors. “This public hearing,” said the Social Organizations of Arauca and the Joel Sierra Human Rights Foundation, “was made possible to give the victims and witnesses an opportunity to denounce the various kinds of human rights violations that are a product of strategies implemented by the State.” The strategies identified by these two organizations include: judicial processes that deny social leaders their freedom; the dirty war that is manipulated by the Army and disguised as paramilitary offenses; and extrajudicial executions of civilians carried out by the armed forces.

Senator Alexander Lopez, of the Democratic Independent Pole political party, is vice-president of the Senate’s Human Rights Commission. Lopez politely greeted the large audience and gave an introduction condemning all the human rights violations committed against civil society and encouraging everyone to sign up to publicly denounce acts of violence and terror. His tone underscored his support for every resident of Arauca and verbally recognized the audience for their courage - evident in the simple fact that they showed up to witness this event.

After his introduction, victims and families of victims lined up one-by-one behind a table and, with the assistance of lawyers, filled out the forms that would hold their stories. While some were in line waiting to sign their “denuncia,” others waited to go on stage and give their testimonies. Men and women from seven different municipalities went on stage and spoke for 6-12 minutes - each one about a different experience, but all showed the same level of conviction in their words.

In six hours of testimonies, 60 individuals verbally denounced a violation, 21 provided testimonies, and 118 made an official complaint in written form. The testimonies included allegations of violations committed by the guerillas, the paramilitaries, the national police and army, and many named the Colombian State responsible for systematically enabling the conditions that allow such abuses to occur.

This extraordinary event highlighted the transformation of suffering into courage. It allowed each person present to provide a testimony of how individuals—who at one point in their life felt threatened and feared for their safety—ultimately decided that it was time to share with the world those experiences that had changed them forever.

Bogotá: Back In

The sleeping city girl is awakening

After an approximately ten hour bus ride with the AC on full blast that successfully managed to overpower any attempt my body made to comfortably and warmly sleep, my teammate Janice and I arrived at the bus station in Bogotá around 8:00am. We got on a taxi straight to the place that I will now be calling my new home. I unloaded my backpacks full of everything I own including dirty clothes, books, hand-made lamp, pictures, letters, and sandals.

Now, I sit here in front of a monitor in the office/apartment, in la capital de Colombia where approximately 12,000 NGO’s are registered and where over 600,000 displaced people have settled in after fleeing conditions of violence in their native home. I have a grim on my face and my eyes are holding back tears caused by the nostalgia that I am trying hard to ignore. I spent almost six months in the community and did not anticipate how much a rural setting can change your senses and your thresholds. I am feeling a mix of emotions having just arrived into a new space where I will spend the second half of my contract with FOR. More so, there is combination of sadness and feelings of attachments my mind and heart have to slowly let go of while attempting to successfully transfer into a new mode of operation. Mostly because I left a place that is so different from Bogotá and my mind is having a hard time letting go of the smells, the voices, the animal sounds and those faces that stayed in the Peace Community. And I decide to feed my emotions even more by playing a CD that has a few recordings that a young girl from the Peace Community made for me as my “good-bye” present, or as she liked to put it, “Para que no se olvide de mi, tenga esto como mi regalo de despedida” (so you won’t forget me, here is a present). Track 1 is has Chayanne’s most cheesy song and Track 2 is Enrique Iglesias on the background and her 17 year old voice perfectly out of tune overpowering the melody of the Spanish artist. I listened to it, holding back my laughter as I imagine her dancing and holding a fake microphone pretending she is on national T.V. singing to a large audience. The best part of the CD is the second to last track where she decided to improvise and sing about me living in La Unión and how I had to leave but that we will always remember each other. It was so cute and funny that I honestly don’t understand how I can feel so much joy and sadness at the same time.

Cold walls and privacy
I also started rearranging the room that was recently Camila’s(FOR teammate) and Juju’s (her baby boy) nest for the past few months. It felt strange to actually have so much space available for my body and few belongings. It seemed too empty so I did the usual move-in routine and placed some pictures on the wall, decided that a plant would keep me company and burned some sage and incense to fill the space between the walls with a familiar aroma. Not to having AJ’s room next to me and not being able to hear every single sound that penetrated the wooden walls back in La Union felt awkwardly silent. I was going to be able to get a sense of privacy again…and that felt sort of strange combined with a sharp dash of loneliness.

I was putting my clothes away thinking about the fact that they will soon lose the moldy smell they picked up in el campo. After staring at the closet, I realized that my faded jeans, stained green yoga pants, and worn out FOR shirts were not going to cut it for the kind of engagements I would be taking part in. I could no longer get away with wearing any pair of torn up blue jeans, the faded drawstring peach colored pants that go back to two or three past FOR volunteers, or my ripped-between-the-crotch brown cargo shorts that go way back to South Africa. The realization that I had few clothes made me automatically think about urban life and consumerism. All of a sudden I am living in a big city and have the necessity to go shopping. I now need to look presentable and somewhat formal-at least for the formal meetings at the U.S. embassy or with representatives of the Vice-President’s office on Human Rights. Right???? Norms…and norms… and the battle of having the autonomy to represent yourself as best identifies your perception on life vs. the obligation of having to express those qualities that gain you respect in a world that judges by superficial measures.

Whether I want to purchase new garments or not, I do need to get a hold of a thick sweatshirt or long sleeve warm shirts if I plan to keep my bones warm. Bogotá is actually colder than what I remember it being back when I was here in November and my body is certainly having a hard time adjusting after living in Urabá’s humidity where I was sweating every other day. The weather in Bogotá sort of reminds me of Santa Cruz with the cloudy days and the cool wind that all of a sudden changes into a clear sky with a sunny afternoon. However, it is not so much of a cold breeze from the ocean and is more like the coldness trapped in a museum with an incredible mountain view.

Although the window in the living room in our apartment sometimes gets some warm rays of sun, it is not enough to warm up the wooden floors and space around my desk. It makes me miss the back porch in La Unión where I often times laid on the hammock and enjoyed the view of the big white puffy clouds that reflected sunlight across the green hills. There were some amazing days when I would also catch a rainbow in the sky or two, and it would all of a sudden rain while the sun was burning hot. I wonder if I will still be called La Negrita (the dark skinned one) from FOR when I go back to visit the community. While I adjust to the lack of heat, I will continue spending the days in the office typing away with cold fingers and sipping on hot tea and coffee. I will once again fall asleep listening to the wailing police sirens echoing a large city, that like the piano and Beethoven’s "Quasi una fantasia", they are inseparable from the realm where they can express themselves deceivingly effortlessly.