CPTnet

23 January 2009

COLOMBIA REFLECTION: Impassable

by Julie Hart

We were on the Cimitarra River, following a narrow creek to an adjoining lake, gathering families from four surrounding villages for the "Celebration of Life and Resistance to Oppression" at Four Rivers.  The sponsoring organization requested CPT accompaniment because we were entering an area of conflict in the ongoing war. As the creek narrowed, we encountered a larger boat stuck in the plant growth, making the creek impassable to us.

We connected our small, motorized canoe to the thirty-foot boat and attempted to back it out.  The big boat would not budge. So one Colombian jumped into the creek, up to his deck in dense plants, to rock the boat loose while we pulled from the other end.  Still nothing.  I was ready to give up but not these Colombians.  Why not turn our boat around and try pulling them out going forward someone suggested?  After twenty minutes of pulling, the large boat inched forward.  Victory! But this is not the end of the story.  The group organizers we accompanied decided to proceed with gathering the awaiting villagers for our celebration as planned.

With a running start, we entered the overgrown waters and came to an abrupt halt.  I was ready to abandon the mission and return to Four Rivers where many others were gathered.  We had been in route for an hour and it was close to lunchtime.  I was worrying about heat stroke from the relentless sun.  But defeat was not an option. The four men with us began to tear the plants from our path.  We inched forward within twenty feet of the deep clear lake but again were stuck.  Why not backout while we still can, I thought.

The Colombians in the canoe, familiar with the river country, threw two wooden pallets overboard and stepped out on the pallets sinking up to their waists but with enough leverage to inch the boat forward.  Another hour and we were zipping across the lake to retrieve our guests for the Celebration of Life.

While waiting for the villagers to gather, I chatted with our driver, attempting to discern how we would pass the narrow channel again with a boat full of people.  Surely they had another route in mind I thought.  No, he said, our entrance route was the only option.  I wondered how long we might be stranded here.

We soon gathered twenty people and crossed the lake to face the plant-choked channel once again.  With a running start, we made it half way through the obstruction and came to a gentle stop atop the weeds.  But to my amazement, there sat the big boat we had rescued, awaiting our return.  They pulled us through and within thirty minutes we arrived at Four Rivers in time for a late lunch.  As my CPT partner reminded me, resignation is a luxury of the wealthy of the world.  For the poor, no place is impassable.