The Butterflies of Buenaventura (Part 2): Our project in life is to be happy

David Sulewski, together with his wife Tibrine da Fonesca, works with MCC in Quito, Ecuador, coordinating the Refugee Project, a ministry of the Mennonite Church in Quito to refugees, the majority of whom are fleeing from the armed conflict in Colombia. This post was taken from their personal blog, Gathering Peace and is the second in a series.

 Part 1 

In mid-March I traveled to Buenaventura, Colombia, to visit the Mariposas con Alas Nuevas Construyendo Futuro.

From Cali I made the bus journey out of the Cauca Valley and over the Western Cordillera mountain range before descending down to the tropical, humid Pacific coast. At each turn in the winding road vistas of dramatic, natural beauty unfolded. Though Buenaventura is located only about eighty miles west of Cali, the trip took four hours. Traffic periodically slowed to a standstill whenever we passed construction workers laboring beneath the sweltering sun to widen the narrow, heavily traveled road or came to a military checkpoint where soldiers were on the lookout for smuggled drugs or guns.

Crossing the bridge that connects the port of Buenaventura with the mainland, I saw rows of tightly packed wooden shacks balancing precariously on stilts over the water. At the port upscale hotels cater to businesspeople and towering cranes load cargo onto massive shipping vessels.

The stark contrast between the sprawling, impoverished barrios and the developed, industrial port gives the impression that the people of Buenaventura are overlooked by economic interests focused less on the wellbeing of the people and more on the transportation of goods in and out of the city. Though 60% of Colombia’s cargo passes through Buenaventura, 60% of the population is unemployed and 80% lives in poverty.

From the bus terminal I jumped into a taxi and headed to the Catholic parish that has been providing the Mariposas with a safe meeting place in the middle of a violent barrio. Along the way, armed soldiers were visible patrolling the streets, a constant reminder of the invisible, yet very much felt, presence of the illegal armed groups.

When I arrived, Mari was waiting for me with a big, warm smile. She guided me upstairs to where two Mariposas were facilitating a workshop with a group of women. They were engaged in an icebreaker in which each woman would stand up, introduce herself and then do a dance move that everyone else would then mimic all at once while repeating that person’s name. I jumped right in, introduced myself and did what barely passed as a moonwalk. Everyone laughed as they slid backward on their feet all around the room shouting, “Mi nombre es David!”

For many of the women, just attending these workshops is an exercise in asserting their autonomy. One woman in the workshop stated firmly, “I don’t ask permission from anyone when I want to come here.”

Often, husbands do disapprove of their wives attending the workshops, accusing them of doing nothing but sitting around and gossiping all day. But, it is precisely through “gossip” (in Spanish, “comadreo”, communication by word of mouth) that the Mariposas build their strong networks of solidarity throughout the city. When they hear through their channels of communication that a woman has been raped, a trusted neighbor in the barrio who is part of the Mariposa network goes to visit and accompany her.

Through accompaniment and participation in the workshops, the women have a safe space to talk and to learn about their rights, otherwise the silent reign of sexual violence continues with impunity. Sexual violence is an open secret; everyone knows it happens, but no one talks about it. Though official figures register 6.8 million victims of the armed conflict nationwide, only a little over 6,000 have reported being sexually assaulted. This underreporting is due to mistrust of authorities, impunity and stigmatization.

In Buenaventura, armed groups violate women and children purely to assert their power. Sexual violence and forced displacement also go hand in hand, as these groups force their victims from their homes in a grab to control more territory. The epidemic of sexual violence, in addition to being a strategy of the armed conflict, is also the consequence of a combination of powerful, entrenched realities: patriarchal culture, structural racism, gender inequality and machismo.

This is the challenging and dangerous context in which the Mariposas live and work. With their profoundly personal experiences living within the armed conflict and direct knowledge of the culture and dynamics of Buenaventura, they are a vital and trusted community of women uniquely positioned to accompany victims of violence, advocate for their rights and prevent further acts of violence.  To date, they have helped over a thousand women.

By building up a community based on the principles of mutual support, accompaniment and sisterhood in which women learn about and exercise their rights the Mariposas believe they can realize their goal of eradicating all forms of violence against women. One concrete tool the Mariposas developed and distribute is an information sheet called the Ruta de Vida y atención en Violencias de Genero – Pathway towards life and attention in cases of gender-based violence. It illustrates all the medical, legal and humanitarian agencies to which victims of gender-based sexual violence have a right to access.

In the workshop, the women got into small groups to discuss what to do in the case of a woman victim of sexual violence whose life was being threatened. They referred to theRuta for guidance. The Ruta is a map, but the Mariposas know well that accessing care and taking the courageous step to denounce one’s assailant is a journey, which is why one woman in my group, after everyone had properly identified the appropriate steps, said, “Let us not forget that every step of the way we are by her side.”

Their vision of a Buenaventura free of all forms of violence against women of all ethnicities, sexual orientation, class and religious identity, also leads them to the streets to engage in public, peaceful demonstrations to draw needed attention to the problems of racism, discrimination and violence.

With the support of a Bogotá-based feminist musical ensemble called La Tremenda Revoltosa Batucada Feminista, the Mariposas had planned a demonstration for the following day in downtown Buenaventura. The march coincided auspiciously with the new moon, when the sea level rises highest, which lent itself for a powerfully symbolic image: a swelling tide of change for Buenaventura.

In preparation, the women drummed up ideas for slogans to chant. One after another, they threw ideas up on the board, such as: Queremos a Buenaventura sin racismo, sin machismo, sin feminicidios, sin homofobia, sin sexismo, en paz y libre—We want a peaceful and free Buenaventura without racism, machismo, femicide, homophobia and sexism.

Then one woman yelled out: No más golpes, ¡¡¡más orgasmos!!!—No more hitting, more orgasms!!! Everyone erupted with laughter. At first I blushed, and then understood that while they were talking about the kind of respect a man shows a woman by never hitting her, they also meant R-E-S-P-E-C-T, the kind Aretha Franklin sings about (if you know what I mean).

At this point in the brainstorming session there was no going back. Everyone began swapping stories about their men not paying them the respect they deserve.  Then the jokes flew, none of which I can repeat here. I soon figured out that they were telling these jokes partly just to watch this gringo turn beet red. By the end my ribs were sore from so much laughter.

Before leaving, Mari showed me their office. Painted on the wall was a brilliantly colorful mural of dancing women with words above reading: Our project in life is to be happy.

The Mariposas say that in some parts of Africa butterflies represent the human soul and the complete cycle of human life. Not unlike a butterfly, the Mariposas are on a journey of radical transformation. Though their reality is marked by injustice and suffering, they work tirelessly, but joyfully, to build a new Buenaventura, turning a seemingly hopeless, violent port into a vibrant, peaceful community where everyone’s rights are respected, where everyone can realize their project of living an abundant, happy life.