Quasi
an outlet for young writers
November 20, 2002
Volume 1, Issue 15
Is Anyone Else Worried?
In case you hadn't noticed, Congress recently approved the creation of a new Homeland Security Department, which could be fine, except for I've got visions of George Orwell's 1984 rolling through my mind constantly now, and I don't think I'm the only one.
Here's the deal (all quotes taken from Time.com):
"Duties of the new agency will include coordinating counter-terrorism measures as well as preemptive defense."
It is "the largest reorganization of federal agencies sine the 1947 merger of the War and Navy departments, which formed the Defense Department.." It will employ "170,000 people, culled primarily from the staff of 22 agencies, including the Secret Service, Coast Guard, Border Patrol, Transportation Security Authority, and Immigration and Natural Services."
"The four divisions: a.) border and transportation security; b.) emergency preparedness and response; c.) countermeasures for chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear attacks; and d.) a new intelligence clearinghouse."
It will cost roughly $40 billion.
Sounds pretty good right? I suppose it does. I'm all for merging and streamlining bureaucracies in the interest of efficiency and effectiveness. What has me, and many others way before me, concerned is that darned fourth division. While a central information clearinghouse is a good idea in some ways, the legislation that has passed is somewhat alarming.
The "Total Information Awareness" computer system "would allow government surveillance of e-mail, credit card and banking records and travel documents."
This is a major concern--unfettered access by the government to anyone's information, which they could use to spy on anyone they wanted. Some may say to trust the government; "They're working for our good." You forget one thing: the government is made up of human beings, who make mistakes, who have faults, both moral and on a skill level.
So there is concern that the government may be gaining too much control over its citizens. Hopefully not, for we do not want to find ourselves, too late, in the grips of a government which imprisons us or spies on us simply because we have disagreed with its policy, or done something mildly suspicious.
This issue of Quasi includes a poem by Joel Smith on that awful feeling of having limitless desire and ambition, but doing nothing about it. Also included is an account by Paul Brogaugh of his recent trip to Columbia. Rob Grange introduced me to Paul, and although is piece is quite long, I would encourage reading it to be challenged on how we view our own country's foreign policy. I myself am not quite sure of what I think about Paul's essay and his views, mostly because I haven't heard the other side, but I think it is always good to be pricked by people who have seen the world, and the effects of things our country does.
Lastly, I've included what is hopefully an entertaining account of my recent trip to New York City.
Please continue to send me your writing and any feedback.
Jon Ward
Slam This! Poet's Forum
Still
by Joel Smith
A thousand thoughts
a thousand miles
But I am standing still
The world whirls around me soundlessly
But a I am standing still
I could take over the world if I had the ambition
But I am standing still
I am laying still
Joel's email is urbanmonkey@hotmail.com
...
Observations About Violence and Non-violence in Colombia
A Trip Report by Paul Brohaugh
October 23, 2002
We went to Colombia to see what's going on, and to offer some prayers for peace. Returning north, on the bus through Central America, I ask myself: Was it necessary? Was it egotistical? Was I looking for blood? Hard to answer, but I believe our 2 week trip was important and we now have more authority to speak about some of the crisis in Colombia. My good friend Bernarda Mendez (44) and I left El Salvador on October 2 to join a Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) delegation to Colombia--five of the other delegates were from the US, one was Colombian, and I lived my first 23 years in Minnesota. As far as bombs and bullets, I hear more loud noises in Bernarda's edge-of-San Salvador community--where I've spent the last 3 years--then I saw or heard in our short visit to the capital of South American violence. But Colombia is about 50 times the size of El Salvador, with only 7 times as many people. The explosions I hear in San Salvador are mostly fireworks, but 10 years after El Salvador's peace accords, there is still too much gunfire and too many homemade grenades.
On our way to Colombia someone suggested to me an answer to the rhetorical question: Which came first, violent people or armed conflicts? I disagreed (that violence is inherent to some people or people groups). However, it's an interesting thing to ponder--what's the relation between political violence and non-political violence, between wars and street fights, armies and gangs, capitalistic investment and paramilitarism?
I do not believe that violent guerilla warfare is an acceptable or effective form to resist injustice, and Colombia is the 3rd largest recipient of US foreign aid, mostly designated to their armed forces.
The yearly statistic on violent deaths in Colombia is around 30,000. More than three-fourths of these killings are said to be NOT directly related to the "political" conflict (war). But from where does this "culture of violence" spring? According to CPT's Duane Ediger, one cannot ignore the "...role the political situation has in creating an environment that makes [non-political violence] more likely to happen." It appears to me a pattern that has happened in El Salvador as well. Violence engenders violence. Paul Stucky, of the Colombian Mennonite peace and justice institution JUSTAPAZ, acknowledged that the war continues not just because the U.S. helps pay for it--yet, "...1.3 billion dollars of mostly military aid in the last few years is not making for a more peaceful society."
We talked to several Colombian church leaders, human rights and peace groups, displaced farmers, and a food industry labor union. All of these groups agreed that the large US investment in the Colombian government and military is NOT primarily about eliminating drugs. Most suggested that the interest and preoccupation is economic; that Colombia is loaded with resources (like oil) that multi-national corporations based in other countries (like the US) seek (to continue) to exploit. As with other Latin American countries, the U.S. is working to open more free-trade agreements with Colombia. Latin America is increasingly importing foods that used to be produced locally, because small farmers are unable to compete with subsidized, "freely traded" imports. I had already read this sort of analysis, but it felt different to hear it from a labor union leader who lives under death threats in a town where 15 union leaders were killed by the paramilitary group last year.
CPT is working hard to engage in creative efforts towards peace, but much of their action is just to help a few people that they work with around Barrancabermeja to avoid getting killed. In the region, armed groups are less likely to harm someone in the company of a North American. But there are also other less-racial / political factors involved--CPT "reservist" Carol Rose, Mennonite pastor from Wichita, Kansas, reminded us that some of the most powerful non-violent tools are truth, love and prayer. By refusing to accept the forceful logic of the "enemy", the enemy is often disarmed.
A few days before our scheduled trip, CPT members Lisa Martens (Canada) and Benjamin Horst (USA) responded to a request to accompany a young widow and the casket with her recently assassinated husband through this conflictive zone. They completed their mission and returned safely to Barranca...where they were apprehended by a National Army soldier who had been stationed at one of the checkpoints that the CPTers had passed earlier. The soldier declared that Martens and Horst were urgently requested at the Administrative Department of Security (DAS--sort of like the FBI) office. They were escorted to the office and detained overnight and for most of the next day. Unfortunately for the work of CPT, the DAS declared that Horst had been engaging in "humanitarian" work that conflicted with the terms of his tourist visa. He was issued deportation orders that prohibit his return to Colombia for the next 4 years.
So we didn't get to go to the valley! But we helped out in the CPT office, translating a CPT declaration about the current situation and preparing for a press conference. We gathered together in the small living room to read from Matthew, chapter 10: "...Don't worry about what to say, for you shall be given the words in the moment." As we circled for prayer, the 2-way radio crackled and Lena Siegers' voice broke through: "We're here at the house on the bend," she coded, "and the paramilitaries are here. We've been talkin' to 'em. Do you copy?". Lena, a long time Christian Peacemaker Team volunteer with many experiences with these armed men, noted later that she had never seen a group so polished, all with new uniforms and guns.
Siegers requested that the armed group move away from people's homes. The commander insisted that his men are not a threat to the farmers, saying, "There is much 'hate propaganda' published against us, but we too are farmers and work for their security."
The prayer time in Barranca shifted towards the group of CPTers and campesinos out on the river. We had been asking for direction in facing the cameras and reporters; we presently asked for the same for our friends' dialogue with the paramilitaries.
While two delegation members visited with the soldiers, and stayed close to CPT's Colombian boat driver who doesn't have the safety benefit of "international" status, Siegers talked about economics with the AUC commander. "The U.S. doesn't care about the poor farmers," she asserted, "they can just go ahead and kill each other with guns from the U.S. while the big companies take all the oil. But when you kill someone in the other group, you're killing a brother." Lena charmed them all with her effusive charisma and gentle but firm persuasion to lay down their arms. At one point she was touched the face of the commander--trying to demonstrate that we are all brothers and sisters. They were polite and listened. Someone noticed tears being held back as Siegers asked the men about their wives and children. She prayed for the war to end so that the men could go back to their mothers, wives, and children, ending with the song, "Lord listen to your children praying." They left.
Siegers and the delegates left soon after to visit a community a few miles upstream. They needed to get back there, where they were staying, but they radioed to us in Barranca to see if we could come out to stay with the family where the AUC had visited. There was some concern that they could return and cause problems, or that a guerilla group could come through and bother the family for having "entertained the enemy". So the rest of us in the delegation managed, after the press conference, to drive another blue canoe out to the site. I grew up camping with my family in northern Minnesota, and as we set up a small tent and several hammocks between the tiny house and the outdoor kitchen in the middle of mosquito-infested central Colombia, I couldn't help but grin about how much bigger my world has become. Camping out to ward off paramilitary groups. It wasn't really that dramatic--a fellow delegate from Wisconsin and I sat and talked with our hosts about the geography of Midwestern USA, Colombian soap opera stars, and silk-worm farming. In general, our "tourism" in Colombia felt not so much like we were visiting a war zone, but that we were visiting a South American country with all the problems and blessings that South American countries have. Yet the stories we heard indeed reveal that Colombia faces an extra portion of violence.
Prayer was an integral part of our delegation experience (and we knew that many people were praying for us). Besides daily prayer and reflection as a group, we prayed in several sites where bloodshed has occurred (or has been forecasted). We asked God to return the riches of the land to the people, to destroy the spirit of violence and retaliation that is used to dominate the poor of this earth, to change the economic policies that reward the rich...and to comfort those who mourn. We believe this is in the vision of Jesus Christ.
As far as my own heart, it lags behind my mind in terms of anger and compassion. It almost seems that my numbness increases as I hear more stories of the world's pain. Bernarda told us that a Colombian woman shared with her about how the womans son was cut up with a saw before being killed by paramilitaries‹how do you respond to that kind of information? I don't wish to diffuse numbness or confusion by pouting about Colombia--and I realize that, with good reason, much of the anti-war prayer and protest these days is directed towards the danger that we might attack Iraq. But I do believe that we need to be more conscientious about the impact our lifestyles, our governments, our corporations and our militaries have on other peoples of the world, including Colombia. CPT members told us of a conversation with a paramilitary member who scoffed at the call to "throw your guns in the river and look for non-lethal ways to settle conflicts" (CPT asks this, personally, of all armed groups). "You gringos come and tell us that," he replied, "but your government has bombed civilians all over the world."
What kind of foreign policy will continue in our name? A small thing we can do is to encourage our U.S. Senators and Representatives to strongly oppose military aid and aerial fumigation to Colombia--they'll be voting about these numbers (dollars) in November. CPT is asking U.S. leaders to restrict all monies spent in Colombia to humanitarian aid and nonviolent methods of resolving the conflicts there. Hearing what I heard from Colombians, I feel an obligation to send a few faxes myself (incidentally, the human rights group CREDHOS told us about a visit that Senator Paul Wellstone made, who has taken a less-militaristic stance towards Colombia).
Riding back to El Salvador on the bus with Bernarda, I felt quite proud to be in her company. She lived through 12 years of U.S. sponsored war in El Salvador; she knows what it is to have loved ones brutally killed. She connected well with the people we visited and she helped the rest of us connect better. The fact that she was impressed by the work of CPT helps me think highly of the organization. One time we were leaving a family's house on the Opon river and Bernarda and I went to say goodbye together. The mother and grandmother of the house, who had been cooking for us, is a brave woman who has also had family members ripped away from her. I bid her farewell, and that God would take care of them. Her reply sticks with me: "May God hear your prayers."
...
Mouthin' Off
Jon Ward
New York
I was hyped.
"We're going to the Garden!" I said to my sister Anna as we walked towards Madison Square Garden last Saturday afternoon. I had scored tickets from a scalper for the one o'clock Knicks game against the Sixers, which was starting in ten minutes.
The tickets were $95 face value, but I had talked the scalper down from his $70 original price, walking away until he came back and sold them to me for $35 each.
"Bargain with them and then walk away. It always works," I said smugly to Anna.
I'd never been to the Garden but, being a sports fan, I was well aware of its storied history and rich tradition. Willis Reed always pops into my mind first, but then you've got Jordan scoring 55 after coming back from retirement, the NIT's, and, although I don't care, the Ranger's hockey games.
We walked towards the huge building of which the Garden is a part--you could barely even tell there was a sports arena there it was all so huge. People were streaming in, coming from everywhere. We went through the metal detectors, and then to the gate.
I showed our tickets to an usher. "Where do we go?" I asked.
"I don't think these are any good," he said. He explained to me that I'd been sold counterfeit tickets and that he'd have to confiscate them.
Welcome to New York.
We were out $35 each, we weren't going to the ball game (which, incidentally, the Sixers won by one point--we missed a good one), and that scalper was probably on the other side of town at that point with our cash in his pocket, laughing at how easy it was to make 70 quick ones.
For instant I thought about getting a printer and pumping out some tickets for the next game. Then I went on a manhunt, dragging my sister behind me through the rain and cold. I was going to find that scalper and when I found him, I was going to tell him to give me my money!
On our third trip around the block, I finally gave up, and we walked a few more county-size blocks to Times Square to get some food at the ESPN Sportszone, a temple built to the god of sport.
Anna and I were in New York to visit my cousin, who lives in Queens, and to see a friend of mine be installed as pastor of a Greenwich Village Presbyterian Church. It was only my second trip to NYC, but much like my first trip, I was both energized and intrigued by the city that never sleeps.
With a city that exudes so much energy, it is natural to me to try and get a feel for the city's mood. Some might wonder what that includes, and how you do that, and why. For me, it's a mixture of considering the most recent social events and context, and imposing it on a general feeling I pretty much just grab out of the air.
I was last in New York in January, four months after 9/11. The city then felt alive, refreshing even, full of life, but it was humble, humbled life. There was an air of kindness, sharing, and love.
Whereas this past weekend I felt something completely different. I took into account that the honeymoon is over for those who wished to view September 11 with only nostalgia. Too much has been discovered about the questionable actions of many involved in the cleanup, and there has been much bickering over what will become of the site, and of the money donated to the victims' funds. Plus, people are over dealing with the grief of the terrorist attacks, and are growing anxious about another one.
Although difficult, grief cannot hold a candle to anxiety when it comes to negative effects.
Knowing that when a pendulum swings, it crosses from side to side, I began to figure out that the city seemed to have an edge to it. The mood seemed much darker--hostile, tense, and unmerciful, like New York supposedly used to be like. I enjoyed being in the city, but it took a little more effort; I didn't feel I was being carried along by a general wave of good will.
Not surprisingly, on Sunday, there was an article in the New York Times reporting that "a growing percentage of New Yorkers feel that their city is less safe today than it was four years ago." Sherman Jackson, a 55-year-old lifelong New Yorker, told the Times, "It's a very ominous feeling. It makes me almost feel as if I want to escape...I am feeling more defensive, I genuinely am."
Regardless of that, however, Anna and I had a great time, although we spent much of the weekend walking through drizzle and cold rain.
We were able to make the best of some tough situations, and we ran into the oddest people. After not being able to go to a Broadway show Saturday night, we found ourselves back at the Sportszone. While there we met three girls from Maryland, and then as we were about to leave, we met a guy who had made a half-court shot during the afternoon's Knicks game (the one we were cheated out of) to win a million dollars.
I was like, "You think you could spare a few bucks and get us some more tickets?"
On Saturday afternoon, before the failed Broadway expedition, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in east upper Manhattan. It is a stunning structure, right on the edge of Central Park, and I wanted to go there to see an exhibit by a world renowned photographer named Richard Avedon.
The exhibit was a highlight. Avedon has become famous for shooting well known or interesting people on a white background in black and white film, and for evoking expressions of them that reveal their true selves. I was completely absorbed for over an hour.
On Sunday, by chance, I met Avedon's personal assistant, who goes to my friend's new church. The assistant was the one who hung and assembled the exhibit at the Met. I was incredulous.
Yeah, it was a nice trip. I think it'd be cool to work and live in NYC for a bit, although my cousin's housemate did tell me that the pace of the city is antithetical to settling down, which makes sense. If nothing else, it's a great place to reenergize your creative juices.
...
an outlet for young writers
November 20, 2002
Volume 1, Issue 15
Is Anyone Else Worried?
In case you hadn't noticed, Congress recently approved the creation of a new Homeland Security Department, which could be fine, except for I've got visions of George Orwell's 1984 rolling through my mind constantly now, and I don't think I'm the only one.
Here's the deal (all quotes taken from Time.com):
"Duties of the new agency will include coordinating counter-terrorism measures as well as preemptive defense."
It is "the largest reorganization of federal agencies sine the 1947 merger of the War and Navy departments, which formed the Defense Department.." It will employ "170,000 people, culled primarily from the staff of 22 agencies, including the Secret Service, Coast Guard, Border Patrol, Transportation Security Authority, and Immigration and Natural Services."
"The four divisions: a.) border and transportation security; b.) emergency preparedness and response; c.) countermeasures for chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear attacks; and d.) a new intelligence clearinghouse."
It will cost roughly $40 billion.
Sounds pretty good right? I suppose it does. I'm all for merging and streamlining bureaucracies in the interest of efficiency and effectiveness. What has me, and many others way before me, concerned is that darned fourth division. While a central information clearinghouse is a good idea in some ways, the legislation that has passed is somewhat alarming.
The "Total Information Awareness" computer system "would allow government surveillance of e-mail, credit card and banking records and travel documents."
This is a major concern--unfettered access by the government to anyone's information, which they could use to spy on anyone they wanted. Some may say to trust the government; "They're working for our good." You forget one thing: the government is made up of human beings, who make mistakes, who have faults, both moral and on a skill level.
So there is concern that the government may be gaining too much control over its citizens. Hopefully not, for we do not want to find ourselves, too late, in the grips of a government which imprisons us or spies on us simply because we have disagreed with its policy, or done something mildly suspicious.
This issue of Quasi includes a poem by Joel Smith on that awful feeling of having limitless desire and ambition, but doing nothing about it. Also included is an account by Paul Brogaugh of his recent trip to Columbia. Rob Grange introduced me to Paul, and although is piece is quite long, I would encourage reading it to be challenged on how we view our own country's foreign policy. I myself am not quite sure of what I think about Paul's essay and his views, mostly because I haven't heard the other side, but I think it is always good to be pricked by people who have seen the world, and the effects of things our country does.
Lastly, I've included what is hopefully an entertaining account of my recent trip to New York City.
Please continue to send me your writing and any feedback.
Jon Ward
Slam This! Poet's Forum
Still
by Joel Smith
A thousand thoughts
a thousand miles
But I am standing still
The world whirls around me soundlessly
But a I am standing still
I could take over the world if I had the ambition
But I am standing still
I am laying still
Joel's email is urbanmonkey@hotmail.com
...
Observations About Violence and Non-violence in Colombia
A Trip Report by Paul Brohaugh
October 23, 2002
We went to Colombia to see what's going on, and to offer some prayers for peace. Returning north, on the bus through Central America, I ask myself: Was it necessary? Was it egotistical? Was I looking for blood? Hard to answer, but I believe our 2 week trip was important and we now have more authority to speak about some of the crisis in Colombia. My good friend Bernarda Mendez (44) and I left El Salvador on October 2 to join a Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) delegation to Colombia--five of the other delegates were from the US, one was Colombian, and I lived my first 23 years in Minnesota. As far as bombs and bullets, I hear more loud noises in Bernarda's edge-of-San Salvador community--where I've spent the last 3 years--then I saw or heard in our short visit to the capital of South American violence. But Colombia is about 50 times the size of El Salvador, with only 7 times as many people. The explosions I hear in San Salvador are mostly fireworks, but 10 years after El Salvador's peace accords, there is still too much gunfire and too many homemade grenades.
On our way to Colombia someone suggested to me an answer to the rhetorical question: Which came first, violent people or armed conflicts? I disagreed (that violence is inherent to some people or people groups). However, it's an interesting thing to ponder--what's the relation between political violence and non-political violence, between wars and street fights, armies and gangs, capitalistic investment and paramilitarism?
I do not believe that violent guerilla warfare is an acceptable or effective form to resist injustice, and Colombia is the 3rd largest recipient of US foreign aid, mostly designated to their armed forces.
The yearly statistic on violent deaths in Colombia is around 30,000. More than three-fourths of these killings are said to be NOT directly related to the "political" conflict (war). But from where does this "culture of violence" spring? According to CPT's Duane Ediger, one cannot ignore the "...role the political situation has in creating an environment that makes [non-political violence] more likely to happen." It appears to me a pattern that has happened in El Salvador as well. Violence engenders violence. Paul Stucky, of the Colombian Mennonite peace and justice institution JUSTAPAZ, acknowledged that the war continues not just because the U.S. helps pay for it--yet, "...1.3 billion dollars of mostly military aid in the last few years is not making for a more peaceful society."
We talked to several Colombian church leaders, human rights and peace groups, displaced farmers, and a food industry labor union. All of these groups agreed that the large US investment in the Colombian government and military is NOT primarily about eliminating drugs. Most suggested that the interest and preoccupation is economic; that Colombia is loaded with resources (like oil) that multi-national corporations based in other countries (like the US) seek (to continue) to exploit. As with other Latin American countries, the U.S. is working to open more free-trade agreements with Colombia. Latin America is increasingly importing foods that used to be produced locally, because small farmers are unable to compete with subsidized, "freely traded" imports. I had already read this sort of analysis, but it felt different to hear it from a labor union leader who lives under death threats in a town where 15 union leaders were killed by the paramilitary group last year.
CPT is working hard to engage in creative efforts towards peace, but much of their action is just to help a few people that they work with around Barrancabermeja to avoid getting killed. In the region, armed groups are less likely to harm someone in the company of a North American. But there are also other less-racial / political factors involved--CPT "reservist" Carol Rose, Mennonite pastor from Wichita, Kansas, reminded us that some of the most powerful non-violent tools are truth, love and prayer. By refusing to accept the forceful logic of the "enemy", the enemy is often disarmed.
A few days before our scheduled trip, CPT members Lisa Martens (Canada) and Benjamin Horst (USA) responded to a request to accompany a young widow and the casket with her recently assassinated husband through this conflictive zone. They completed their mission and returned safely to Barranca...where they were apprehended by a National Army soldier who had been stationed at one of the checkpoints that the CPTers had passed earlier. The soldier declared that Martens and Horst were urgently requested at the Administrative Department of Security (DAS--sort of like the FBI) office. They were escorted to the office and detained overnight and for most of the next day. Unfortunately for the work of CPT, the DAS declared that Horst had been engaging in "humanitarian" work that conflicted with the terms of his tourist visa. He was issued deportation orders that prohibit his return to Colombia for the next 4 years.
So we didn't get to go to the valley! But we helped out in the CPT office, translating a CPT declaration about the current situation and preparing for a press conference. We gathered together in the small living room to read from Matthew, chapter 10: "...Don't worry about what to say, for you shall be given the words in the moment." As we circled for prayer, the 2-way radio crackled and Lena Siegers' voice broke through: "We're here at the house on the bend," she coded, "and the paramilitaries are here. We've been talkin' to 'em. Do you copy?". Lena, a long time Christian Peacemaker Team volunteer with many experiences with these armed men, noted later that she had never seen a group so polished, all with new uniforms and guns.
Siegers requested that the armed group move away from people's homes. The commander insisted that his men are not a threat to the farmers, saying, "There is much 'hate propaganda' published against us, but we too are farmers and work for their security."
The prayer time in Barranca shifted towards the group of CPTers and campesinos out on the river. We had been asking for direction in facing the cameras and reporters; we presently asked for the same for our friends' dialogue with the paramilitaries.
While two delegation members visited with the soldiers, and stayed close to CPT's Colombian boat driver who doesn't have the safety benefit of "international" status, Siegers talked about economics with the AUC commander. "The U.S. doesn't care about the poor farmers," she asserted, "they can just go ahead and kill each other with guns from the U.S. while the big companies take all the oil. But when you kill someone in the other group, you're killing a brother." Lena charmed them all with her effusive charisma and gentle but firm persuasion to lay down their arms. At one point she was touched the face of the commander--trying to demonstrate that we are all brothers and sisters. They were polite and listened. Someone noticed tears being held back as Siegers asked the men about their wives and children. She prayed for the war to end so that the men could go back to their mothers, wives, and children, ending with the song, "Lord listen to your children praying." They left.
Siegers and the delegates left soon after to visit a community a few miles upstream. They needed to get back there, where they were staying, but they radioed to us in Barranca to see if we could come out to stay with the family where the AUC had visited. There was some concern that they could return and cause problems, or that a guerilla group could come through and bother the family for having "entertained the enemy". So the rest of us in the delegation managed, after the press conference, to drive another blue canoe out to the site. I grew up camping with my family in northern Minnesota, and as we set up a small tent and several hammocks between the tiny house and the outdoor kitchen in the middle of mosquito-infested central Colombia, I couldn't help but grin about how much bigger my world has become. Camping out to ward off paramilitary groups. It wasn't really that dramatic--a fellow delegate from Wisconsin and I sat and talked with our hosts about the geography of Midwestern USA, Colombian soap opera stars, and silk-worm farming. In general, our "tourism" in Colombia felt not so much like we were visiting a war zone, but that we were visiting a South American country with all the problems and blessings that South American countries have. Yet the stories we heard indeed reveal that Colombia faces an extra portion of violence.
Prayer was an integral part of our delegation experience (and we knew that many people were praying for us). Besides daily prayer and reflection as a group, we prayed in several sites where bloodshed has occurred (or has been forecasted). We asked God to return the riches of the land to the people, to destroy the spirit of violence and retaliation that is used to dominate the poor of this earth, to change the economic policies that reward the rich...and to comfort those who mourn. We believe this is in the vision of Jesus Christ.
As far as my own heart, it lags behind my mind in terms of anger and compassion. It almost seems that my numbness increases as I hear more stories of the world's pain. Bernarda told us that a Colombian woman shared with her about how the woman
What kind of foreign policy will continue in our name? A small thing we can do is to encourage our U.S. Senators and Representatives to strongly oppose military aid and aerial fumigation to Colombia--they'll be voting about these numbers (dollars) in November. CPT is asking U.S. leaders to restrict all monies spent in Colombia to humanitarian aid and nonviolent methods of resolving the conflicts there. Hearing what I heard from Colombians, I feel an obligation to send a few faxes myself (incidentally, the human rights group CREDHOS told us about a visit that Senator Paul Wellstone made, who has taken a less-militaristic stance towards Colombia).
Riding back to El Salvador on the bus with Bernarda, I felt quite proud to be in her company. She lived through 12 years of U.S. sponsored war in El Salvador; she knows what it is to have loved ones brutally killed. She connected well with the people we visited and she helped the rest of us connect better. The fact that she was impressed by the work of CPT helps me think highly of the organization. One time we were leaving a family's house on the Opon river and Bernarda and I went to say goodbye together. The mother and grandmother of the house, who had been cooking for us, is a brave woman who has also had family members ripped away from her. I bid her farewell, and that God would take care of them. Her reply sticks with me: "May God hear your prayers."
...
Mouthin' Off
Jon Ward
New York
I was hyped.
"We're going to the Garden!" I said to my sister Anna as we walked towards Madison Square Garden last Saturday afternoon. I had scored tickets from a scalper for the one o'clock Knicks game against the Sixers, which was starting in ten minutes.
The tickets were $95 face value, but I had talked the scalper down from his $70 original price, walking away until he came back and sold them to me for $35 each.
"Bargain with them and then walk away. It always works," I said smugly to Anna.
I'd never been to the Garden but, being a sports fan, I was well aware of its storied history and rich tradition. Willis Reed always pops into my mind first, but then you've got Jordan scoring 55 after coming back from retirement, the NIT's, and, although I don't care, the Ranger's hockey games.
We walked towards the huge building of which the Garden is a part--you could barely even tell there was a sports arena there it was all so huge. People were streaming in, coming from everywhere. We went through the metal detectors, and then to the gate.
I showed our tickets to an usher. "Where do we go?" I asked.
"I don't think these are any good," he said. He explained to me that I'd been sold counterfeit tickets and that he'd have to confiscate them.
Welcome to New York.
We were out $35 each, we weren't going to the ball game (which, incidentally, the Sixers won by one point--we missed a good one), and that scalper was probably on the other side of town at that point with our cash in his pocket, laughing at how easy it was to make 70 quick ones.
For instant I thought about getting a printer and pumping out some tickets for the next game. Then I went on a manhunt, dragging my sister behind me through the rain and cold. I was going to find that scalper and when I found him, I was going to tell him to give me my money!
On our third trip around the block, I finally gave up, and we walked a few more county-size blocks to Times Square to get some food at the ESPN Sportszone, a temple built to the god of sport.
Anna and I were in New York to visit my cousin, who lives in Queens, and to see a friend of mine be installed as pastor of a Greenwich Village Presbyterian Church. It was only my second trip to NYC, but much like my first trip, I was both energized and intrigued by the city that never sleeps.
With a city that exudes so much energy, it is natural to me to try and get a feel for the city's mood. Some might wonder what that includes, and how you do that, and why. For me, it's a mixture of considering the most recent social events and context, and imposing it on a general feeling I pretty much just grab out of the air.
I was last in New York in January, four months after 9/11. The city then felt alive, refreshing even, full of life, but it was humble, humbled life. There was an air of kindness, sharing, and love.
Whereas this past weekend I felt something completely different. I took into account that the honeymoon is over for those who wished to view September 11 with only nostalgia. Too much has been discovered about the questionable actions of many involved in the cleanup, and there has been much bickering over what will become of the site, and of the money donated to the victims' funds. Plus, people are over dealing with the grief of the terrorist attacks, and are growing anxious about another one.
Although difficult, grief cannot hold a candle to anxiety when it comes to negative effects.
Knowing that when a pendulum swings, it crosses from side to side, I began to figure out that the city seemed to have an edge to it. The mood seemed much darker--hostile, tense, and unmerciful, like New York supposedly used to be like. I enjoyed being in the city, but it took a little more effort; I didn't feel I was being carried along by a general wave of good will.
Not surprisingly, on Sunday, there was an article in the New York Times reporting that "a growing percentage of New Yorkers feel that their city is less safe today than it was four years ago." Sherman Jackson, a 55-year-old lifelong New Yorker, told the Times, "It's a very ominous feeling. It makes me almost feel as if I want to escape...I am feeling more defensive, I genuinely am."
Regardless of that, however, Anna and I had a great time, although we spent much of the weekend walking through drizzle and cold rain.
We were able to make the best of some tough situations, and we ran into the oddest people. After not being able to go to a Broadway show Saturday night, we found ourselves back at the Sportszone. While there we met three girls from Maryland, and then as we were about to leave, we met a guy who had made a half-court shot during the afternoon's Knicks game (the one we were cheated out of) to win a million dollars.
I was like, "You think you could spare a few bucks and get us some more tickets?"
On Saturday afternoon, before the failed Broadway expedition, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in east upper Manhattan. It is a stunning structure, right on the edge of Central Park, and I wanted to go there to see an exhibit by a world renowned photographer named Richard Avedon.
The exhibit was a highlight. Avedon has become famous for shooting well known or interesting people on a white background in black and white film, and for evoking expressions of them that reveal their true selves. I was completely absorbed for over an hour.
On Sunday, by chance, I met Avedon's personal assistant, who goes to my friend's new church. The assistant was the one who hung and assembled the exhibit at the Met. I was incredulous.
Yeah, it was a nice trip. I think it'd be cool to work and live in NYC for a bit, although my cousin's housemate did tell me that the pace of the city is antithetical to settling down, which makes sense. If nothing else, it's a great place to reenergize your creative juices.
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posted by Jon at
10:10 PM
