Visit to Comuna 8 - Fuerzos de Paz
Tatiana agreed to take us to some of the communes where she had been previously working. Some of the comunes, like C13, which Rene had previously suggested, she thought were now out of the question - really too unsafe for any of us to visit. We were keen to see these places and talk to some people. Yesterday afternoon she had organised for us to go to Comuna 8 and visit Dona Oliva, a displaced person who had moved with her family to the hills of Medellin 10 years ago.
We caught a very small local bus from the city centre, and within 15 minutes we were already making our way up the winding streets of Comuna 8. The roads were bumpy and the houses gradually got shabbier. There was only really space for one car on the streets - they were so narrow. After another 10 to 15 minutes we got to the last stop near the top of the hill, from which we had to walk to Fuerzas de Paz, the barrio we were to visit.
The view from the top is quite striking. Small slum like houses were bunched together all the way around the valley. Even the steeper slopes supported homes, which rested on wooden stilts. The homes were held together by wood, brick, iron roofing and plastic bags.
I noticed lots of youth on the streets - some working and some just hanging about. We wondered along the main street, where Tatiana warned us against using our cameras. She also told us to keep our voices down, and explained she was going to say she was here with the government and we were some doing some research in case we get stopped.
It was strange feeling so restricted and under surveillance as we just walked. At the top of the hill, there was some green farm land...the only bit of free space we could see. Up there were the granjas - the acres of farmland that the government had given to the paramilitaries who had agreed to disarm. The geography of it all added to the authoritarian feel. The paramilitaries had a good view of everything from there. As were about to turn down into an alley, a plumpish looking man came out of nowhere and questioned Tatiana what we were all doing here and where we were going. She explained she was with the Government's "Programa de las victimas" and that Sean and I were doing some research on the area. Soothed by the fact that she was from the Alcadia (the mayor's office), he said that everything was fine then. As we continued down some steep steps, confirmed quietly that he was a paramilitary, and must have been watching. I thought back to his grimace as he spoke to us and got a sudden chill as I wandered how many crimes he must have committed.
What I saw next shocked me even more. We were entering the barrios from the main road, and inside this maze of displaced people's homes were streets made entirely of stone steps, winding down the steep and narrow hill. It was like we were in a different country. There were several black kids on the street, struggling to get up some of the steps, looking at us with curious eyes. The homes were really poor. Very bare and unstable looking. There were tiny footbridges crossing the open sewers, and sometimes there was no real foot path and we had to climb over rocks and mud. I remember feeling thankful that it wasn't raining or dark, as it would be almost impossible to move anywhere. At this point we got our cameras back out and started snapping.
After descending some of the way down the hill we made it to Dona Oliva's house. As we walked in through the open door, two women greeted us all. They had been expecting us as Tatiana had spoken to Dona Oliva her on the phone. They were both smiley and welcoming, but there was some caution in their gaze. I guess we were two strangers walking into Dona Oliva's house, wanting to know about things that they cannot really talk about on the streets. They both looked very strong - like they had experienced a lot. I couldn't really tell their age at all - anywhere between 40-60.
We spent the next hour asking questions and listening to their stories.
They were original from a mining town called Segovia, which had long been a centre of conflict between FARC, ELN and paramilitaries. They moved to the hills of Medellin to escape the violence after both had suffered some of their children being killed by paramilitaries.
When they first moved to Medellin, they had no support from anyone, and had to start from scratch, building their fragile houses on the steep hills. They said that they often used to be demolished by police and military...and also the weather, but they kept on rebuilding.
Now there are several thousands of houses in their barrios, and displaced people still trickle in from other areas of Colombia to this day.
Dona Oliva, like all other poor families who live there, have to pay around 7500 pesos a month in taxes to the paramilitaries. Quite a large sum for people who barely scrape a living. Many children don't even go to school and spend the days working as street vendors. The men usually work in construction and the women as domestic cleaners.
Comuna 8 civilians had previously suffered from paramilitary, FARC and ELN presence and the fighting between them. Recently, paramilitaries have driven out FARC and ELN, who have retreated to other areas further up the mountains or in other regions, however things are still not very safe. Under Plan Colombia, the paramilitaries who decided to disarm received plots of land and money. These were the men responsible for killing their children and, along with the guerillas, giving them all a life of fear. They both felt a deep injustice as they, the victims have received hardly any help in terms of resources from the state. The paramilitary crimes are simply forgiven, and then they are rewarded by the government. They said that in terms of security, it is still pretty bad. Many disarmed paramilitaries still have arms, and they continue to fight (although, now amongst each other - between the different paramilitary groups or "gangs"). They are also heavily involved in drug trafficking, which is where they get most of their money from.
Sometimes civilians are caught in the middle of their fighting. Every week there seems to be a shoot out. They spoke about hearing multiple gun shots the Saturday just gone - there was a confrontation between two of the paramilitary groups further down in the barrio.
As for recruitment, the paramilitaries try and recruit bored youths from the barrios themselves. They invite them to social and sporting events - putting on discos and football matches.....offering them money to join. Many do join out of desperation. Some are forced to join and receive death threats that their family members will be killed if they don't.
An example of the way in which authority is enforced and fear maintained is that a few days before our visit nights ago, the paramilitaries had dropped printed pamphlets out to all the houses saying that "all children must be in bed by 10pm". The families were obviously scared about this.
When I asked them about politics, they just looked at eachother and laughed. They had no faith in any political party, and especially not in the current government. They have felt detached and excluded from politics for decades, that they do not even have a hope that the state could possibly help them. When asked about Uribe, they had a point of view completely opposed to the average Colombian and the mainstream press. They kept on highlighting the injustices - the lack of support they received, whilst their oppressors where being given resources.
They also spoke about the corruption of budgets. State resources are distributed via participary budgets, however the local paramilitary leader uses the money to build houses for himself. Doña Oliva explained that the consejo comunales (community councils) are all headed up by the paramilitaries themselves. The civilians don´t receive money for social spending.
Doña Oliva had created a mini activity centre above her house for local kids, youths and women to participate in artistic activities. Every Saturday, local kids attend this "Casa De Paz" (House of Peace) to draw, paint and play games. The aim of this is to give children hope and some kind of cultural education away from the violence in the barrios. I went up to have a look around, and was moved by the paintings and poems, all searching for peace and end to the war. When I asked her if she had any hassle from the paramilitaries in doing this, she said that she had to be careful, but that everyone around recognised that this was something non-political so she was fine. I also think that her intelligence helps her. She knows how to conduct herself infront of paramilitaries and is usually quite outspoken when she has witnesses around her.
We were meant to go deeper into the comuna, further down the hill. However, this was not possible as the situation down there had gotten much more serious. Doña Oliva said that it was out of the question because there was simply too much paramilitary control after the recent increase in shoot outs.
Instead, we made our way back up the windy, steep alleys to catch the bus back to the city centre. As we were leaving the road leading to the bus stop, we were stopped again by a man with a grin on his face. He came out of nowhere and said he had seen us taking pictures. Why were we doing this? For what? Tatiana responded again that we were doing some research and she was with the state. He had seen her before when she used to make regular visits through her job with the Mayor, so he said that was fine, and let us go. He was another paramilitary who had been observing us. As we edged closer the bus, we looked up the hill toward the granjas (paramilitary farmland) and saw several men standing still behind the trees and just observing.
Heading back into Medellin centre, where everything continued as normal, I felt very disturbed by what I had seen. I didn´t expect to be so impacted by the trip, but the whole evening I couldn´t help replaying everything I saw. The worst was the sense of injustice felt by the displaced victims, who live under the control of state-supported criminals responsible for the deaths of their family and friends. It was a completely different world - but one that is very real and exists for the victims of the war all around Colombia.
I guess life would be equally as oppressive in guerrilla controlled regions, and probably even worse when rival groups are present and fighting each other. But the important difference is that in paramilitary controlled zones, their presence and the resulting oppression is supported by the state itself.
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