Where no foreigner has gone before...
We went back to Soacha yesterday and went with the break-dance group up to a neighbourhood called Sucre/Buenos Aires – it is right beside Altos de Cazucá up on the hills above Soacha and is a fairly similar neighbourhood of winding dirt roads, piles of garbage everywhere, hodge-podge electric lines and shanty-houses cramped toegther. We jumped on a colectivo bus in Soacha and climbed up this very steep road that quickly turned to dirt and gravel. There was AUC (paramilitary) graffiti everywhere. (The place felt ominous, to say the least.) Many of the houses were nothing more than sheets of tin and plywood piled together with fabric across the windows and door openings. But this is Bogotá, where it has been quite cold and has been raining extremely heavily every day. It is not a good climate to be trying to survive in a shantytown.
I was sitting between two of the guys from the break-dance group on the bus, and the entire way up they were talking about how dangerous the neighbourhood was, how they were going to get robbed, how someone would take their shoes and jacket right off of them, how they couldn’t believe they were coming here and they hoped that nothing went wrong. They kept saying that they had to make sure they would get out of there before dark. Keep in mind, these are kids from Soacha Centre, less than a 15-minute bus trip away, and they were freaked. I was sitting there thinking, “Chicos, relax, at least YOU are not the tall white girl from Canada…”
We went to the Colegio Buenos Aires (middle/high school) where there was a talent show of some sort going on. Some kids put on a play, others did some rap/hip-hop, and our group did a demonstration of their break-dancing. I think, however, that Jon and I unwittingly stole the show. At first the kids were all very wary of us – they would stare at us but then quickly hide behind a friend if I looked back and smiled. Once enough smiles were offered back and forth, they started to approach us to ask questions (and to see if we spoke Spanish). As soon as they discovered that I spoke Spanish, they gathered around us quickly. Soon I was swarmed by kids asking questions and trying to get a closer look at this strange tall white girl. They kept asking me why Jon wasn’t saying anything and they immediately decided that he was very shy. They asked what size Jon’s shoes were and that became the most shocking news of the day. One girl made it her duty to tell every new kid that came into the group that Jon’s shoes were size 48(!!!!), or she would make them guess how big his feet were and it became this hilarious game. They all acted like it was the most incredible thing they had ever seen or heard, and they will probably never forget the day that they met a giant with size 48 feet! (They don't even sell shoes that big here.) The kids kept jumping down from this ledge that they were standing on to stand beside us and compare their heights to ours and their feet to ours. Then they would jump back up on the ledge so they could talk to us at eye-level. I quickly found out that we were the first foreigners that they had ever seen. Ever! One girl told me the only other foreigner she can remember in this neighbourhood was a pastor from Paraguay a few years ago. I asked them if any aid organizations or missionaries with foreigners had been there, and they all said they had never seen any other foreigners before us. So that explained the intense curiosity and dumb-founded wonder.
I guess not many other foreigners have been crazy enough to go there…?
I managed to have an informal chat with a few of the kids while they were waiting for their turns to perform. They were all more than delighted to tell me about their lives. A few of them were in a play and were melodramatic like only child actors can be. It was quite funny. They were energetic and exuberant and laughing constantly. They lived in what can only be described as a shanty-town ruled by paramilitaries, and yet they were such happy, delightful children. I was smitten with each and every one of them.
Here is what they told me about their neighbourhood...
First, they had not had water in over a month – they didn’t know why, but when I asked them what they would change about their neighbourhood, they all said the first thing they would do is bring the water back, and they asked me if I could do anything about that. I asked them if they felt safe in their neighbourhood and they all said no like I had asked such a silly question. The girls said it was more dangerous for girls, because girls who go out at night are crazy, have bad reputations, and always get attacked. The boys thought it was equally dangerous for both boys and girls. Another group all agreed that the neighbourhood was equally dangerous for both. They said it was fine during the day, but at night you had to be in your house after dark. When I asked why, the boys kept talking about thieves (ladrones) who would take everything from you. The girls emphasized the need to avoid being attacked and raped (only a few actually mentioned rape, the rest just said “to avoid being attacked”).
When I asked them what they liked about their neighbourhood, they all said “nothing.” When I asked what they didn’t like, they said “everything.” But when I asked them if they wanted to move out of their barrio, most of them said no because they didn’t want to leave their friends. However, when I asked them what they wanted to do when they were older, they all wanted to travel and/or move somewhere else. Almost all of them wanted to go to New York.
Many of these kids have never gone further than Soacha Centre, if they had even been that far. They had certainly never been to Bogotá. I was blown away by the fact that they had never seen a white person in real life before. We were only an hour from downtown Bogotá - it is not like we were in the middle of the jungle somewhere. They wanted us to speak to each other in English just so they could hear what it sounded like. They were all quite delighted when we complied. Then they made Jon say sentences in French, and that was fascinating for them.
When the soldiers showed up at sunset, I pointed them out to the kids and one of the girls rolled her eyes and said: “Whatever. It’s not like they actually do anything.” I asked her if she felt protected by the soldiers and she rolled her eyes again and told me that they did nothing to protect anyone, they just stood around with their guns. She said that they let all kinds of things happen and she didn’t see the point of them being around at all, as people still didn’t feel safe after dark. She was 13 years old. These soldiers were also distinctly different from any that we have seen in Bogotá or Soacha. They were wearing full body armour and knee-pads, with helmets and goggles perched on their helmets, and they were armed to the teeth. Jon said they were dressed for full-out urban combat, unlike any other patrol soldiers that we had seen so far.
We left shortly after 6pm when it was already dark, and I could tell that the boys in our group were quite anxious to get on the bus and get out of there. The soldiers were stationed inside and outside of the school grounds, blocking the narrow door and not letting anyone in or out. They would only let students out if their parents showed up to get them.
It is a tough life when the sun sets at 6pm and the dark brings armed groups, “limpiezas”, gangs, and thieves. What does it do to a child or teenager who has to be in his or her house for 11-12 hours every night because the dark brings so much danger and fear? And how appealing does it become to get a gun and join a gang or armed group if it means that you can leave your house after sunset?
Yet, despite all of this, the children that I met yesterday were laughing and playing and fooling around just like any other kids of their age.
I left there praying that nothing would happen to erase their beautiful smiles.
I was sitting between two of the guys from the break-dance group on the bus, and the entire way up they were talking about how dangerous the neighbourhood was, how they were going to get robbed, how someone would take their shoes and jacket right off of them, how they couldn’t believe they were coming here and they hoped that nothing went wrong. They kept saying that they had to make sure they would get out of there before dark. Keep in mind, these are kids from Soacha Centre, less than a 15-minute bus trip away, and they were freaked. I was sitting there thinking, “Chicos, relax, at least YOU are not the tall white girl from Canada…”
We went to the Colegio Buenos Aires (middle/high school) where there was a talent show of some sort going on. Some kids put on a play, others did some rap/hip-hop, and our group did a demonstration of their break-dancing. I think, however, that Jon and I unwittingly stole the show. At first the kids were all very wary of us – they would stare at us but then quickly hide behind a friend if I looked back and smiled. Once enough smiles were offered back and forth, they started to approach us to ask questions (and to see if we spoke Spanish). As soon as they discovered that I spoke Spanish, they gathered around us quickly. Soon I was swarmed by kids asking questions and trying to get a closer look at this strange tall white girl. They kept asking me why Jon wasn’t saying anything and they immediately decided that he was very shy. They asked what size Jon’s shoes were and that became the most shocking news of the day. One girl made it her duty to tell every new kid that came into the group that Jon’s shoes were size 48(!!!!), or she would make them guess how big his feet were and it became this hilarious game. They all acted like it was the most incredible thing they had ever seen or heard, and they will probably never forget the day that they met a giant with size 48 feet! (They don't even sell shoes that big here.) The kids kept jumping down from this ledge that they were standing on to stand beside us and compare their heights to ours and their feet to ours. Then they would jump back up on the ledge so they could talk to us at eye-level. I quickly found out that we were the first foreigners that they had ever seen. Ever! One girl told me the only other foreigner she can remember in this neighbourhood was a pastor from Paraguay a few years ago. I asked them if any aid organizations or missionaries with foreigners had been there, and they all said they had never seen any other foreigners before us. So that explained the intense curiosity and dumb-founded wonder.
I guess not many other foreigners have been crazy enough to go there…?
I managed to have an informal chat with a few of the kids while they were waiting for their turns to perform. They were all more than delighted to tell me about their lives. A few of them were in a play and were melodramatic like only child actors can be. It was quite funny. They were energetic and exuberant and laughing constantly. They lived in what can only be described as a shanty-town ruled by paramilitaries, and yet they were such happy, delightful children. I was smitten with each and every one of them.
Here is what they told me about their neighbourhood...
First, they had not had water in over a month – they didn’t know why, but when I asked them what they would change about their neighbourhood, they all said the first thing they would do is bring the water back, and they asked me if I could do anything about that. I asked them if they felt safe in their neighbourhood and they all said no like I had asked such a silly question. The girls said it was more dangerous for girls, because girls who go out at night are crazy, have bad reputations, and always get attacked. The boys thought it was equally dangerous for both boys and girls. Another group all agreed that the neighbourhood was equally dangerous for both. They said it was fine during the day, but at night you had to be in your house after dark. When I asked why, the boys kept talking about thieves (ladrones) who would take everything from you. The girls emphasized the need to avoid being attacked and raped (only a few actually mentioned rape, the rest just said “to avoid being attacked”).
When I asked them what they liked about their neighbourhood, they all said “nothing.” When I asked what they didn’t like, they said “everything.” But when I asked them if they wanted to move out of their barrio, most of them said no because they didn’t want to leave their friends. However, when I asked them what they wanted to do when they were older, they all wanted to travel and/or move somewhere else. Almost all of them wanted to go to New York.
Many of these kids have never gone further than Soacha Centre, if they had even been that far. They had certainly never been to Bogotá. I was blown away by the fact that they had never seen a white person in real life before. We were only an hour from downtown Bogotá - it is not like we were in the middle of the jungle somewhere. They wanted us to speak to each other in English just so they could hear what it sounded like. They were all quite delighted when we complied. Then they made Jon say sentences in French, and that was fascinating for them.
When the soldiers showed up at sunset, I pointed them out to the kids and one of the girls rolled her eyes and said: “Whatever. It’s not like they actually do anything.” I asked her if she felt protected by the soldiers and she rolled her eyes again and told me that they did nothing to protect anyone, they just stood around with their guns. She said that they let all kinds of things happen and she didn’t see the point of them being around at all, as people still didn’t feel safe after dark. She was 13 years old. These soldiers were also distinctly different from any that we have seen in Bogotá or Soacha. They were wearing full body armour and knee-pads, with helmets and goggles perched on their helmets, and they were armed to the teeth. Jon said they were dressed for full-out urban combat, unlike any other patrol soldiers that we had seen so far.
We left shortly after 6pm when it was already dark, and I could tell that the boys in our group were quite anxious to get on the bus and get out of there. The soldiers were stationed inside and outside of the school grounds, blocking the narrow door and not letting anyone in or out. They would only let students out if their parents showed up to get them.
It is a tough life when the sun sets at 6pm and the dark brings armed groups, “limpiezas”, gangs, and thieves. What does it do to a child or teenager who has to be in his or her house for 11-12 hours every night because the dark brings so much danger and fear? And how appealing does it become to get a gun and join a gang or armed group if it means that you can leave your house after sunset?
Yet, despite all of this, the children that I met yesterday were laughing and playing and fooling around just like any other kids of their age.
I left there praying that nothing would happen to erase their beautiful smiles.
posted by Rachel at 7:45 AM
1 Comments:
i really enjoyed that. A lot of people wonder what small things could be done to help kids in places like this. Its amazing to think that a day trip to the city or anywhere an hour away could be such an eye opener. Anyways, good stuff.
Post a Comment
<< Home