Carolina Santana is from São Paulo, Brazil and is currently serving with the Seed program in Colombia. This post was originally published on the Seed blog.
February 26th marks one year since I arrived in Colombia. I was reminiscing by looking through my photos and they brought me lots of memories. I felt inspired to share how the Seed program, Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) and Colombia in general have changed my heart, how I now see my Latin roots, how I view my neighbor, and above all, how my time in Colombia is teaching me how to be a peacemaker.
My faith and trust in God had to be strengthened even before I left Brazil to come to Colombia. When I learnt that I had been invited to participate in the program, my heart was divided. I had to decide whether to go to an unknown country, without knowing what I would do or where I would live, or to continue living in Brazil, with some family challenges but with the security that only our homes can give us.
A year ago I arrived in Colombia to a year of adjustments. A year of constantly acclimatizing to the weather of the city of Barrancabermeja and the burning of sweat in my eyes. I am used to people repeating what I say, in an accent that sounds like mine, even though it is not how I hear myself. As I learn about the context of Magdalena Medio, where I work with CPT, it has become a familiar feeling to be lost: within the multiple organizations, in the names of leaders of communities, or lost in the joke. I feel my “Latin pride” as I learn more about my roots in Latin America. I feel at home, even as I live in another country.
Being in involved in the cases of the communities like Guayabo, that suffers the constant threat of being displaced, not just by armed groups, but by the government itself, I feel like I am on a roller-coaster of emotions. I now cry because of their struggle, such as when Alvaro Garcia, one of the leaders of Guayabo, was unjustly arrested and has not yet been freed because the judicial system is too slow. But also I rejoice in their victories, such as when three other leaders from Guayobo, after six months in hiding, turned themselves in and pleaded their innocence from the same false and unjust charges. They are now home, reunited with their families.
When I reflect on the past year, and remember the proposed Seed program, I realize that I imagined a different place. I imagined that I would be able to speak well about pacifism, about how it is necessary to struggle for peace, and about how beautiful it is to use non-violence as a tactic to resolve conflict. I realized that I cannot speak to this at this point because pacifism now to me seems paradoxical. Sometimes pacifism is a cry of rage against injustice. It is to swear quietly within yourself, in order to stand. It is to allow yourself to be held when you feel out of control. It is to close your eyes and count from ten, to one hundred, to a thousand. Even if I feel like hitting someone, pacifism is to know that my physical strength will make things worse. It is to ask for patience from God, and to ask for patience to my brothers and sisters. It is to pray. It is to celebrate. It is to believe, “that hope does not fail and justice will be served.”
My prayer and hope is that this coming year will be as good and full of learning as it was last year. May we continue to learn what peacebuilding means within our lives in communities, such as on on the nights when we watch the stars of the skies of Colombia and share a soda and the stories of our lives or when we drink a tinto con panela, a delicious coffee with raw sugar that can only be found in Colombian rural communities, or the lessons to be found in the laughter of children who run kicking up dust when they play in the street, filled with happiness, or with the sunset of the Magdalena River, one of the most impressive I’ve ever seen. May we continue to find both answers and questions in the strength of those who have inspired us and taught us what it is to strive for peace.