GREEN LETTER FROM COLOMBIA No. 55
lst February 2002
Postal Address: Atlantis, Telecom, Belén, Huila, Colombia, S. America
"To cultivate one's garden is the politics of the humble man."
Chinese proverb, printed in Smallholder Magazine, Canada.
*****
Well, I don't think making our farm ever more productive and beautiful helps
the tragic people of Afghanistan very much, but I do know that after a month
or so of once again returning to the city - this time the Southern town of
Popayan - to do our best to counteract the rising tide of sadism, cynicism
and hypocrisy emanating from the US & UK governments, not to mention the Irish
and .. oh horror of horrors, the German 'GREEN' Party, who support the waging
of this terrible and illogical war .. I need to return to 'our' mountains for
renewal, else I'll become a victim of the war myself. So many good and thinking
voices raised all over the world against the present insanity unleashed in the
wake of September llth, but mainly drowned out by the greater chorus of
primitive and bloodthirsty warmongering. Some clippings of the British press
sent to to me by friends leave me shellshocked by their unabashed racial
revanchism, and thank goodness I never see the US press ...
But back home on the farm, Life insisted on living itself ... On 30th November,
just after breakfast, Anne quite unexpectedly delivered a baby. No, it wasn't
hers! One of our girls came running down to find me in the cabbage patch
saying, 'The neighbours have sent message to say could we go quick to carry
Rosaura out, as she's in labour!' 'Out' here makes no sense. A woman in labour
travelling across field and bog and rickety bridge to a deserted trafficless
road leading to nowhere? I knew this was the panic of a woman in pain, been
there myself, getting carried off a deserted island by lifeboat (that got
stuck on a sandbank) to travel 50 bumpy miles to a horrible hospital ... no,
I wasn't going to encourage anyone to make the same mistake.
"Anne!" I called. "Please drop what you're doing and go and deliver this baby
will you?" "Already on my way", she answered, "I knew you'd ask me." She was
busy packing a few necessaries. "Have you seen a baby born before?" I thought
to ask. "Well, I saw you have Katie .. and Mary have Laura," she answered
breezily. "Oh dear, is that all?" I said. "Ah well, march in exuding confidence
and the girl will be alright."
When Anne arrived across the fields to the neighbour's shack, the mother-to-be
was screaming and trying to climb up the walls, and the rest of the family was
sitting glumly outside as if at a funeral, evidently convinced the girl was
going to die. Anne bossed everyone around, calmed the woman down. And was home
in time to make the dinner.
"A huge boy," she said as she returned in an astonishingly short time. "Good
lord," I said. Ah well, all in a morning's work.
******
"A garden is a thing of beauty - and a Job forever!" Anon.
Taken from Greenprints Magazine , USA
******
Apart from our knowledge of the horrors happening in the world Out There, one
audible horror daily mars this little piece of Green heaven. The gnawing
grinding teeth-gnashing snarling growling relentless nightmare of chainsaws
across the valley. A reminder of why we were asked to come here in the first
place: to help protect this delicate area, which is a 'buffer zone' between
agricultural territory and the huge Natural Park of Purace which provides
water for a huge section of Colombia, feeding some of her major rivers. Our
'green' presence, apart from providing an example to the people of how to
live without destroying, also puts us in the uncomfortable position of
reporting on our neighbours. The simple life becomes complicated: one of the
tree-cutting sinners is the family of my Colombian son-in-law. What to do?
Well, we complained to every 'authority' we could think of: the Army, who
guard the main roads to the towns, through which nonetheless the lorries
pass, laden with illegal timber; the Guerrilla who have a strictly 'green'
environmental policy - but trees are the last thing on their minds with the
war worsening daily, partly as a result of their total mishandling of it;
and the various Government environmental bodies, perhaps the sickest joke
of all, but we have to keep trying. So I wrote letters, Louise complained
in the offices in Popayan, Anne complained in Bogota. And one fine day we
were donated the visit, on 4th December, of a young woman from the
Environmental Ministry for this area, accompanied by a man from the Public
Health authorities, acting as her guide to these wild parts. Anne and I
immediately took up our agreed positions: me in the background disguised as
general farm skivvy, my psychic antennae swirling suspiciously in all
directions, Anne in the front line to take the first fire. The fur flew
immediately. The young woman in her city clothes assumed her accustomed
mode of talking down to everyone who wore wellies instead of high heeled
shoes. "Name?" she said without even looking up, more interested in her pen
and paper. Poor lady. "Excuse me", said our ruffled Leonine Anne .. whose
account of events runs thus: "I told her what I thought of her attitude and
then turned to the very nice man accompanying her, explaining that my
opinion of State 'ecological' bodies is very low as they are really private
businesses run for profit in heavy Green disguise. His eyes agreed with me
and he fought not to smile. The young woman then climbed down off her
bureaucratic horse and we were able to talk. She wanted us to give the
names of our neighbours who were cutting down forest. I asked her if she
was offering them an alternative? No reply. Then no names, I said. What was
the point if the Government were not doing anything to offer another way of
making a living? When asked what would happen to those people if their
names were to be given, the woman replied that they would be called 'to the
office' (an impossibly expensive, time-consuming journey away) and 'told
off'. As Jenny remarked afterwards, that kind of out-of-touch snootiness
makes tree-cutting seem like a minor offence. Most of the ensuing
discussion took place between us, some neighbours we quickly called in for
the occasion, and the local man acting as guide. Past failed projects were
mentioned, and the reasons for their failure: namely, that they are
'designed' in distant offices without reference to the local population.
The obvious point was made that this had to change. We all had a vegetarian
lunch, the vegetable garden, enormous now, was viewed, as was our 'compost
factory' - the large enclosure for guinea pigs, rabbits and chickens, all
busy creating black wealth, and later Laura and Alice sang some of Katie's
stunning ecological songs. The public health man was moved to tears. And
the woman had to hurry back to her office. Months later, the chainsawing
continues, and once again, we will do the rounds: complaining at every
office supposed to be protecting this sensitive region. With a world at
constant war, and billions of sentient creatures daily slaughtered for the
food of the 'superior' race of man, what hope does a 'mere' tree have of
its life being valued? But we won't stop trying.
******
"We must never forget that the one virtue that we can always depend on is
that part of us that is rooted in the world of Nature, in Wilderness and
wildness, intuition and emotion. We must never sacrifice this warm embrace of
the earth to the cold rationality and mechanical dictates of technology and
economy."
Captain Paul Watson, Sea Shepherd Direct Action for Conservation of Marine Life
******
One of the many marvellous people who have helped our Campaign with seed gifts
over the years is a man in America called David Carlson who is a Master Gardener
(a US designation for a person reaching a certain degree of knowledge and
expertise). He has sent the following message regarding the crisis in the Seed
Industry and tells us of a seed company with a difference: "FEDCO seeds is a
cooperative, dividing its profits between its employees and customers.
Large-volume discounts are given for quantities needed by small-acreage farms,
garden clubs, food coops or church and community groups ... Wholesale seed
companies are amalgamating at an alarming rate. In the last 3 years alone,
Monsanto has spent 8 or 9 billion dollars buying up seed companies ... a
CHEMICAL company becoming the second largest seed co. in the world! Syngenta,
the world's largest pesticide company, is the 3rd largest seed company ...
With wholesale suppliers amalgamating and genetically engineering their seed,
where will we be able to acquire untreated seed? Happily, there is an
ever-increasing number of small seed companies, of which FEDCO is one, that
work with small-scale farmers to encourage the production of heirloom and
open-pollinated varieties (that is plants that can reproduce themselves,
unlike the mega-companies' hybrids that can't) ... Some day, these
companies may be our only hope." The FEDCO seed catalogue can be obtained
through their website at www.fedcoseeds.com P.S. to the above, a
maliciously delicious news item taken from New Internationalist, Sept.
2001: "In an attempt to persuade a skeptical US Senator of the wisdom of
aerial spraying the coca fields of Colombia with tonnes of Monsanto's
Roundup Ready pesticide, as part of the US 'war on drugs', the US Embassy
in Bogota arranged a demonstration. Unfortunately the 'targeted spraying' -
which the US maintains destroys only the coca fields, not the subsistence
crops around them - went rather wrong. With military precision, the
Senator, the US Ambassador and the Lieutenant-Colonel of the National
Colombian Police were soaked from head to toe in the pesticide. "If they
have since suffered the same negative health effects of which the Colombian
peasants have been complaining, they are keeping quiet about it!"
******
A shock was in store for us as we watched the news a fortnight ago in
Popayan: the FARC had dynamited a large hole in the wall of Ibague prison,
Tolima, and 39 of their guerrilleros had escaped. This is the prison where
Tris and Javier's murderers, 2 of them at least, are held. I knew that if
they had escaped, we would be high on their Hunting list to avenge
themselves for us getting them in there.... Anne investigated, and it
turned out 'only' convicted prisoners escaped, not those still awaiting
trial, as our boys' murderers are. Many Green Letters ago, we announced
that the FARC had handed over a bag of bones supposed to contain the
remains of Tris and Javier. After long DNA tests, it was revealed the bones
were a mix of SEVEN different victims, but none of them our lads. The saga
drags on, overtaken and obscured by many other events, such as our
excellent investigator, a woman, being removed from her post. She had done
her job too well on another case, uncovering the complicity of high Army
gentlemen in paramilitary massacres. That kind of accuracy and work
efficiency is not allowed in Colombia. We lost a good woman on our case,
but we have gained a permanent friend. Our own healing process continues. I
have recently run a series of therapy groups in Popayan, attended also by
our girls, whose tears join the warm sea of shared grief that is Colombia.
And therapy continues in dreams ... I dreamt I went to a guerrilla camp
looking for Tris and Javier. I passed a crowded room and looked inside.
Tris was lying pale on a bed with two guerrilla guards lying either side of
him. He sat up in desperate hope when he saw me, crying and begging and
pleading with his expression for me to save him. I marched to the commander
and talked, and talked. And talked. And carried on talking. Then I went to
a higher commander and talked and talked. Until I just stared, and within
my dream knew the truth: it is too late. And I ordered myself to wake up.
And Louise reports her dreams: "I was doing an interview for a newspaper
and I was taken to a room where Tristan's body lay. A photographer wanted
me to put my hand on Tris's forehead, but I felt scared to touch him in
case I woke him up and made him feel the pain again. I thought the warmth
of my hand would make him realize how much warmth he was missing and it
would be better if he never knew" And another from Lou, bringing Tris back
in to live with us, as we do nowadays, mentioning him now without tragedy,
letting him exist amongst us as he used to do, in his everyday, humorous,
cheeky form: "I am in one of our wooden farm houses with most of the
commune around me and sitting in front of me is Tristan. It feels totally
normal for him to be there, as if he has just arrived from some short trip
somewhere. We are all having a party and there is a very happy atmosphere.
We start playing party games and having fun. Tristan, always looking pale
and wrapped in a blanket as if he was constantly cold, suggests to me that
we play a game he had just invented, and he says, "Louise, I'm dead, right?
and so I can send you telepathic messages and you are going to tell the
rest of the group what I am saying." I close my eyes to concentrate and
listen to his first message, and I get it right. He starts with simple
sentences like, "I am just a spirit sitting in this room", and "I have
accepted that I am dead", and I translate his silence to the rest of the
group. My dream continues like this for ages, and the messages he sends me
get sillier and funnier and of no importance, the kind of thing Tris would
always say, until he has the whole room laughing." Thus we heal ourselves
in the magic of the subconscious. But Tris? Alice has her own mode. She was
Javier's girlfriend. Now she is in a permanent relationship with a
cheerful, lively local boy. As the relationship consolidated, she dreamt of
Javier crying, begging her not to leave him. Lovingly, but firmly, she
said, "I'm sorry, but I have to move on." How my atheist heart longs to
believe that those boys can feel our sorrow for them.
******
I would like to draw this Letter to a close with an excerpt from a man who
lives at the other end of the world: in the Outer Hebrides, our helper and
friend, John MacAulay. He writes: "I must thank you for your Green Letters
.. They have become part of my 'education' and inspiration ... we are all
horrified by what is happening in Afghanistan. Bush's idea of justice goes
well beyond fair retribution and our monkey in Downing Street is doing his
best to make an even greater mess of it. .. Here in the Hebrides, we seem
so removed from it all, and yet it is affecting all of our lives ... We can
only take comfort in the fact that the storms in nature are necessary for the
cleansing of our Planet; though it's hard to understand why such cleansing,
of the human race is such a destructive process. There is a harmony in the
heavens and in the oceans that we would do well to study, though we try
hard to destroy all that as well .." And from someone who simply calls
himself "Charley" in Hawaii at the other end of the planet: "Don't read the
papers too literally. They paper over the deep dissent with their apparent
tidal wave of conservative momentum. What will make the difference over the
long haul is people having the courage to say what's in their hearts, to
not be intimidated by "foregone conclusions", to speak to others and spread
the word, to think out loud, to ask questions, .. inspired, thoughtful,
heartfelt. There are strong voices to channel this dissent, and even if we
don't feel that individually we can do it, we have to feed those who can,
we have to be heard, to keep up the drumbeat. Remember, the global economy
cannot be sustained, it must fall. The majority of the world's population
is expendable to it, and we will not take it lying down. Be creative, be
confident, be playful, care for each other through hard times to come; take
the example of the zapatistas, who have nothing left but their shining,
awesome human dignity and love. The economy is stumbling. Don't panic. Find
ways around it, t hrough it. Keep the beat."
*****
And just so we stay in touch with what the world's 'leaders' have in store for
us, here are some Real Life Quotes from our Scottish guru, Brian Quail of
Trident Ploughshares:
"If we have to start all over again with another Adam and Eve, I want them to
be American." Senator Richard Russell, 1969
"I can go into my office, pick up the telephone, and in 25 minutes, 70 million
people will be dead. " President Richard Nixon
"My life wouldn't be worth living without dope .. it's really a buzz to be
tripping out and know that you're cruising the Arctic with Polaris missiles
that could wipe out half of Russia - man, that's a real trip!" US submariner
in interview, 1981
"At the end of the day, if 3 Americans and 2 Russians are left alive - we
have won!" General Curtis LeMay
"My fellow Americans, I am pleased to tell you today that I've signed
legislation that outlaws Russia forever. The bombing begins in 5 minutes."
President Ronald Reagan making a. 'joke' during a radio test broadcast in
1984. This was intercepted by Soviet Intelligence.
Sleep easy, goodnight, love Jenny
P.S. "If my soldiers began to think, not one would stay in the ranks." Frederick the Great