Vincy, you were my best Christmas gift

Six months ago I quitted my job to pursue a dream and an impulse of leaving my life behind and donate my time and knowledge as international volunteer. When I told my family and friends about my decision, they looked at me surprised; even for some of them I was crazy, but still they were happy for me. For some seconds I knew that it did sound wild and I was even offered to take more time to make the choice and join the team of volunteers that was going to start the period in November. Even though it was an overnight decision, there was something that deeply told me that July was my time. I didn’t need more than two weeks to deliver my job position to my boss and friend who unconditionally supported me, buy the plane tickets and get everything I needed to move to this little-known country called Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, that since then became My Priceless Paradise.

I was also told by my friends that six months were a short time and with the blink of an eye I would be going back to Colombia. To that I used to reply that for such an intense experience, I didn’t think that half of a year was short at all, this as a “defense mechanism” because if that adventure hadn’t begin, I didn’t even want to think about finishing it already!

Unfortunately, they were right. I’m now going back to Colombia and I wished I could have stayed longer. This was, without a doubt one of the most enriching, unique, challenging, giving, spiritual and grateful experiences of my life. So of course realizing that this precious period of my life is done brings a bunch of mixed feelings. The good thing about this powerful time of my life is that a little piece of it will last forever because after such a powerful experience you can’t be the same person you used to.

Learning and seeing with no filters the real effects of climate change, how the life style of thousands of people depends on the extreme weather conditions of droughts and floods, not being able to go to the beach because the rise of the sea level completely whipped it off, studying and reading from Monday to Sunday environmental topics to prepare lessons for more than one hundred kids and working shoulder to shoulder with the farmers and artisans to enhance the local development was a huge labor and the satisfaction, joy and gratitude is indescribable.

Like if that was not enough, I had the fortune to meet invaluable friends, teammates and teachers with whom we enjoyed life at the maximum, like if every day was the last one. Endless road trips along the curvy Vincy roadways; flawless street parties where no filter was imposed to enjoy the Caribbean flavor; paradisiac landscapes of waterfalls, mountains and of course the master king; the volcano of La Soufrière; my little ones at the school that at first went running all around shouting “white people”; stopping at every corner because there was always a smile of a friend and time to have a short chat of how things were going; the best deal of three Hairouns (the local beer) for $10 Eastern Caribbean Dollars, which lead to always share a drink; the smiles of everyone after knowing that there was cake for dinner; the most beautiful sunsets seen from the boat of my friends the fishermen; lovely Bequia as my perfect dream goodbye and endless more memories that are impossible to list but that are kept in the deepest and most special pocket of my heart.

Vincy, you were not only the rightest impulse I have ever followed, you are my best Christmas present that has been making me happy for the past six months of this year and will keep on doing it because I’m definitely coming back to you <3 

One day at church in Saint Vincent

I can’t really talk about how each religion celebrate their rituals, but, I daresay that faith has been, along history, a way of bringing people together. Churches and temples welcome people, from babies to elders, and have been places to strengthen bonds, not only in a spiritual way, but also, in a homely manner.

St. Vincent and The Grenadines is by nature a warm-hearted place, then imagine how sympathetic going to church here is. I had the idea —taken out from movies like Sister Act — that it was going to be something with amazing voices singing, dancing and basically making a party out of worship. Well, that was not far from reality.

It was Sunday. The Pastor picked us up and his words where wise since the moment we went inside the car. He had lost his mobile phone, but, as everything else in his life, he let that in God’s hand. “I can’t stop things from happening, but I choose how to assume them, even though sometimes the situation seems to control me”.

We arrived to Petit Bordel, the village where the church is located. Everyone looked so nice: girls were wearing dresses that made them look like princesses, woman had fancy hairstyles and men, elegant ties, perfect for the occasion. 

That was just the beginning. The worship started. Most of the assistants closed their eyes and raised their hands towards God, making prayers and enjoying each second of that intimate encounter. I was surprised when one woman started to cry, so I asked the girl who was next to me why. She answered that the lady was feeling the Holy Spirit and her tears were a sample of joy.

The weather was getting warm, the location was small and crowded, but that didn’t seem to matter, because everyone was happy to share that moment. At the same time, some little boys fell asleep. The heat had lulled some of the children and their lovely parents consented them gently. Melodious voices completed the scene perfectly. A choir of women wearing colorful shirts, a man playing the piano and another one playing the drums made a party of bliss. It was simply impossible not to feel the music and joy, it was something contagious that unconsciously made your hands applaud and your feet move in synchrony with the music.

The celebration finished after a couple of hours and, to our surprise, the pastor called us forward to present ourselves to the community. Everyone was warm, receptive and happy to welcome us, as when a new member joins a family. It felt just like home, a new home that since that day has had its arms wide open to this group of volunteers that can only be thankful for all the love received from the vincentian community.

*This article is specially dedicated to Juliet, Glenroy and their children, who have been an example of a special, caring family and unconditional friends in Saint Vincent. 

A prince charming came into my room

For some reason, I’ve been waking up one time during the night for the past few days. Last evening, I went out of my room for a couple of minutes, leaving the door open. I hadn’t even repair on that; anyway, I knew I was not going to take too long outside.

When I came back, right in the middle of the dark corridor, with the dim romantic light of the crescent moon, he had sneaked into my room. One jump was enough to have him inside. Just as when love arrives, I couldn’t have time to think or hesitate. It was just like a crush that freezes you out, without knowing what to do. I was totally disconcerted, thinking why I hadn’t closed the door, but all these days I had been out without having this surprising visit. After hesitating for a couple of minutes if I should go inside, I decided to be courageous and get in, to deal and confront the situation, just like any compromised couple does.

I took the first step, without knowing what to do or what to say. I sat on my bed and started to smile and laugh, but some tears came out of my eyes. To be honest, I wanted to cry. It was just like the reaction brides have when they get their bridal dress. They feel happy but they can’t hold their tears. What a powerful feeling. And as more as I wanted to control it, the stronger the feeling became.

I didn’t want to see him. I turned my head just a couple of times to know where he was. I wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. We were just there. Both sitting. Waiting. That awkward moment when you are fighting and silence takes over the place. Everything passed through my head: ways to fix the situation, going to a specialist to deal with the issue or just leaving the room and wait until next day. I was so confused. I just didn’t know what to do. Laughter and tears became more powerful and unstoppable.

After some minutes I decided to take the initiative and confront what was happening. But when I turned my face to see him, it was not there anymore. I didn’t feel the getaway. Shocked and confused I walked to my room door to see what had happened. Five meters far from me, in a corner, there he was. Quiet and resigned. His heart was bumping so fast that I could see the chest moving back and forth, heart going crazy with diastole and systole palpitations.

He just knew that it was not meant to be. I was glad and thankful to be understood. Silence had said everything. I really hope that that prince charming finds her princess, because at least now, I don't want to kiss any frog. 

Taken from:  http://photobucket.com/images

¡La felicidad es amarilla, como el Caribe!

Hay días en que la felicidad es completa, es amarilla, es de todos los colores maravillosos que pasan por los ojos, sorprendiendo cada milésima de segundo y excediendo las máximas expectativas de lo que el paraíso podía ser.

Compartir con los vicentinos es algo que me llena el corazón, es una bocanada de aire, es sentir que va a explotar el corazón, tal cual como le ocurre a un globo cuando lo inflan y parece que no diera más, pero siempre cabe un poco más de felicidad. A mí me cabe cada día un poco más de felicidad por estas personas.

Es un paraíso único, sin igual, y su gente lo hace simplemente maravilloso. Los chiquitos disfrutando cada segundo y su risa sonando constantemente como melodía. Verlos recitar el Padre Nuestro o el Gloria con sus ojitos cerrados y moviendo su cuerpo, casi bailando, porque cantarle a Dios es para ellos una fiesta, que aunque no haya música, la sienten y la celebran.

La capacidad de hacer amigos en una noche —realmente amigos— dejando de lado lo que estén haciendo, para llevarnos de regreso a nuestra casa para evitar la extenuante caminata de 50 minutos, sabiendo que la próxima vez que nos encontremos, el apretón de manos y el choque de puños será un símbolo de complicidad al hablar el mismo lenguaje, el de la música y el de la risa.

La bandera vicentina

Cuando era pequeña aprendí en clase de sociales, geografía, e incluso arte, la distribución de la bandera de mi país, Colombia.  Primero debía dibujar un rectángulo que incluiría los tres colores de la nación. Luego, este rectángulo debía dividirse en dos partes iguales en sentido horizontal. La primera mitad de este sub-rectángulo correspondía al color amarillo, alusivo a la riqueza de nuestro suelo, el sol y el oro hallado en épocas precolombinas. La segunda mitad debía dividirse en dos partes iguales, siendo la del medio de color azul, representando el cielo que cubre la patria, los ríos y los dos océanos que bañan las curvas de ambos costados del territorio: el Pacifico y el Atlántico. Por último, el tercer recuadro debía ser rojo, relacionado a la sangre vertida en los campos de batalla para conseguir la libertad.

Y es que, en Colombia, a pesar de cualquier falencia social, política o económica, somos patriótas y vestimos con orgullo “la tricolor”. Incluso, recién llegué a este paraíso, de las primeras cosas que hice, —inconscientemente— fue tomar tres hojas de papel: una amarilla, una azul y una roja, para armar una bandera y pegarla con orgullo en la parte exterior de la puerta de mi cuarto, como si fuese un sello distintivo.

Al pasar unos días, mientras sosteníamos una conversación con amigos de diferentes partes del mundo (Bélgica, Chile, Dinamarca, entre otros) uno de ellos habló de otro voluntario que también era colombiano y que había estado aquí hace unos años. Por algún motivo hizo mención de este compatriota para ejemplificar cuán apasionados éramos los colombianos al hablar de nuestro país.

¡Bélgica celebra el fútbol al mejor estilo paisa!

Valga mencionar que este sujeto no sólo era patriota, sino buen negociante, pues con él trajo varios ponchos paisas para venderle a los extranjeros, quienes intercambiaron una cantidad formidable de dólares americanos por dicha prenda autóctona de un país que, para su información, no sólo es conocido por la marihuana.

Me sorprendí gratamente de que él fuera distinguido de esa manera. Mi interlocutor percibió mi gesto y entre risas me preguntó: ¿pero acaso cuando tú llegaste, lo primero que hiciste no fue poner una bandera de Colombia en tu puerta? Tenía razón. Sólo que tal vez era algo que había hecho en modo automático y sólo lo vi claramente hasta después de su reflexión.

Y es que la bandera de cada país es sin duda uno de los símbolos patrios más importantes y más visibles ante todo público. Es un estandarte que denota ciertos colores en un orden, proporción y sentido específico, pero que connota toda la historia, cultura e idiosincrasia de un pueblo.

Dicho esto, era evidente mi interés por conocer el significado de la bandera de San Vicente y las Granadinas. Podía buscarlo en internet, por supuesto, pero quise preguntarle a un nativo qué había detrás de esas franjas de colores, pues no hay nada como escuchar el testimonio de alguien que respira sus creencias desde cada poro de su piel.

Mi inquietud la solucionó Erasto, un rastaman de alrededor 60 años, que trabaja desde hace más de 15 en la Autoridad de Parques Nacionales, Ríos y Playas de este país. Debo admitir que su “oficina” tiene mejor vista que la del mismo Alejandro Santo Domingo en Nueva York. Es más, tuve el lujo de que respondiera mi pregunta mientras caminábamos hacia La Soufriére, divisando a mi izquierda el océano Pacífico y a mi derecha Richmond Peak, el punto más alto de la isla sobre el nivel del mar.  

Erasto Robertson

La bandera de San Vicente y las Granadinas tiene, en su versión actual, tres colores: azul, amarillo y verde, divididos en franjas verticales. La primera representa el océano que rodea estas islas del Caribe. Por cierto, la superficie hídrica de este país es mucho mayor que la superficie terrestre, que cuenta con un área de tan sólo 389 km². La franja amarilla, protagonista en la proporción de la bandera, alude a los rayos del sol que alumbran durante más de 12 horas diarias la jornada de campesinos y pescadores. Por su parte, el verde asemeja la vegetación abundante que hace de este destino un lugar perfecto para el ecoturismo. Para finalizar, en el medio hay tres diamantes que representan al país conformado por múltiples islas, las Granadinas, que en total son 32. Estos rombos forman una V que podrían relacionarse con la inicial del nombre la isla mayor; asimismo, con su ubicación en las Antillas.

Es una explicación corta para la basta belleza de este paraíso y, como suele suceder con la historia, cultura e idiosincrasia, sólo estando “a este lado del charco” —como decimos algunos colombianos— se logra tener una visión holística. Tras mes y medio de estar viviendo aquí conocí de primera mano el significado de la bandera vicentina, y luego de 55 días debo admitir que comienzo a sentir el corazón divido entre mi natal Colombia y esta isla que seduce con sus paisajes y enamora con su gente.

Paradójicamente termino este escrito escuchando el CD de soca —música típica del Caribe— que compré hace unas semanas en Kingstown. De vez en cuando mi mirada se aparta de la pantalla del computador para encontrar la palabra perfecta que poco a poco ha conformado esta secuencia textual. Conduzco los ojos hacia la puerta de mi cuarto que, estando cerrada, tiene al respaldo la bandera de San Vicente y las Granadinas, mientras que sobre el pasillo “la tricolor” sigue resplandeciente. Es una dicotomía de amores que, en tiempos de guerra, tal vez sea la única dualidad válida.

Going beyond second chances (Part II)

It’s amazing how a nice experience can change your perspective about things, persons or, in this case, animals. As I shared in my last blog entrance about second chances with horses (click here to read it), it is wonderful how feelings can change in such a positive way. I was not scared anymore about getting close to these medieval beautiful creatures that are commonly portraited in fantasy books. The amazing turning point is that not only the fear was gone, but it had turned into excitement and happiness of seeing again the lovely Elena; in fact, I actually had missed her and when I saw her, it was like meeting again an old friend with whom bonds are tight enough.

Within a peaceful landscape and a green surrounding, Elena was ready to have fun. She was full of joy, despite it had been a sunny day, that frequently leads to fatigue and laziness. This was not the case and it worked just perfectly to be astonished by her intelligence, that increased with a sweet motivation. Three buckets and some treats where enough to enjoy this time with her.

As usual, she smelled my hand to feel familiar again. Then, I pampered her with some tickles in her neck and brushed the black mane. When she loses her haw and stares at you like if she was smiling, is an affirmative way of saying how much she likes it, and absolutely, a “please don’t stop” expression. But Elena knew that there was something else; something that not only called her attention, but her stomach desires: treats that could only obtain by being polite, obedient and making an occasional wit, just like a house pet.

After the game started she knew what to do, where to go and how to behave. First she stepped back as a sign of respect. Then, she waited the instruction to go towards the first yellow bucket, touch it with her nose, and come back to see if she had earned the tasty price inside the black can. This was the moment when no pressure was allowed; a patient and meek behavior would be the credit to take the treats’ payback, and indeed, she earned them one time after another. The jackpot for Elena came after several games when she was able to receive not only a few, but a whole portion of comfits that was left in the bottom of the bin. She was there, eating happily, while I was sitting calmed and joyful of the moment.

That was Elena, a serene, docile and charming creature that not only gained some candies, but the affection of someone who used to be scared of horses, but now is pretty close to become a huge fan of them.

The reasons behind wars on food and water

There is a lately common maxim that states poverty as a great business. Different authors have developed this declaration to explain why the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. The economic system that enables these pronouncements is the Capitalism, which is based on private ownership of the means of production and their operation for profit[1]. With Capitalism come specific actors: owners able of decision-making and investment. This figure can be seen in dominant countries, international organisms and big private corporations that have a clear interest in making things happen in a very specific way. These calculated moves are thought to be applied over developing countries, wage labour and people with needs, who are more likely to accept deals in which the balance scale clearly leans to the side of the most powerful.  

An evident example of help and deals with hidden interest is the food aid provided by different organisms during stages of drought or floods when food production of agricultural countries is lost. This statement can be named “food aid used as a weapon”[2] that destroys the alimentary independency of farmers, getting them used to external supplies, and leaving aside their traditional work force, knowledge and way of generating economic incomes by selling their surpluses products. Ethiopia, Indonesia, Philippines and Jamaica are examples where food aid seriously affected the agricultural practices, economic incomes and, as a result, acquisition of imported expensive products. Again, rich industries get richer, and poor population gets poorer.

From these examples there are two important considerations: the first is scarcity of resources because of climate conditions and the second, how the shortage of food and water can lead to war. Asia and Africa are prone continents to suffer these conditions, making people and social movements fight over supply sources. Syria, Turkey and Iraq have a conflict over water in the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers and oil resources. Palestine and Israel battle over the control of water that comes from Golan Heights, the Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River. The region of Darfur in the western Sudan is in conflict because of water scarcity and the rainfalls have decreased by one third over the last 80 years and Rwanda suffered the terrible genocide in which between one half and one million Tutsis were slaughtered by Hutus over a few months in 1994, basically as a war over access to the fertile land in this densely populated small country.

These are reliable examples, among many others, of how water and food are assets that in case of scarcity can lead to serious struggles. Not in vain has been said that if there is a third World War the reason would be the fight over water. All though governments, media and power groups frequently make believe that religion or politics are the reasons why conflicts are taking place, it is pretty evident that under those arguments, environment, resources, water and food are the genuine motives that lead to violent encounters.

But why are we most often presented for other explanations for these conflicts? There can be several reasons. The first one can be that developing countries are more likely to have raw materials and agricultural practices, but it’s a business for developed countries to sell them fertilizers, pesticides and expensive seeds. In addition, this can also lead to higher rates of importations, that benefit Capitalism, so they are clearly not interested in changing this consumption model or making obvious the importance of valuing the natural assets. As a second fact, land grab has become a new kind of war over food, in which countries like Japan, China, Libya, United Arabic Emirates and Egypt have acquired “vast land areas in the developing world, to secure the food and biofuel production they need”. It is pretty obvious that these deals are not known by everyone, and governments have no interest in people knowing the social, economic and environmental impact these negotiations mean, as an undeniable damage of their lands and sustainability.

“Of the more than 900 million hungry people in the world, 80% are small farmers. They constitute more than one third of the two billion people depending on very small portions of land to make a living”. It is ironic that the people from whom we get the food supplies, don’t have food security, and the worst is that they are in risk of losing their lands, their incomes and their way of applying traditional knowledge. The issue is not about having enough food for 7 billion human beings, but ensure small “farmers get access to land, training and capital to improve agricultural production, getting access to markets without unfair competition from cheap, subsidized products. This requires that governments of poor countries are assisted in promoting agricultural production instead of the current situation where they are forced into unfair trading positions. It also requires a movement away from corporate farming and the dependency on fertilizer, pesticides and other oil-based products”[3].

COUNTRY	CONFLICT
Palestine vs. Israel	Control over water that comes from Golan Heights, the Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River
Darfur	Water resources. The conflict is shown as a Muslim vs. Christians issue. The rainfall in this part of Sudan has decreased by one third over the last 80 years.
India vs. Pakistan	Conflict over water from the River Indus
Rwanda	Between one half and one million Tutsis were slaughtered by Hutus over a few months in 1994, is basically also a war over access to the fertile land in this densely populated small country.
Turkey, Syria and Iraq	Conflict over water in the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers and oil resources.
Kenya	Issue in the fertile Rift Valley escalated into violent conflict at the start of 2008.
Congo	Food crisis in 2008. Conflicts have resulted in the proportion of undernourished people increasing from 29% to 76%.

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[1] Wikipedia. 2016. Taken from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capitalism#cite_note-1

[2] History Front: Wars over food and water.

[3] History Front: Wars over food and water.