09/03/2006
stampa
invia
“A sudden noise and then the irritating and invasive smell. In a moment all is
lost”. Lorena Tobar, 52 years old stares into space while remembering those moments
on that day in May 2001 when her village in Sur de Bolivar in the north central
part of Colombia was fumigated for the first time. “That poison is lethal – she
says – it kills animals, plants and the ground remains unusable for decades. Look
at these tomatoes that grow around my house, they are full of white patches. It’s
a nightmare. They say that the reason is to eradicate the cocaine plantations,
but the poor people are the ones that face the consequences”. This shower of
pesticides, causes devastating effects also on mankind. “It has the consistency
of oil on the skin but it itches. Eyes burn and water. It’s unbearable”. Then
there are headaches, vomit, diarrhea specially among the younger ones. Not to
mention the long term consequences: “Two women had a miscarriage a few days after
and in other villages around here some women have given birth to malformed babies.
A man died while he was working on the fields that were fumigated and nothing
could be done”.
We are in the center of Magdalena Medio, in a small village carved out of the
forest. On the top of the high mountains there are plenty of guerrilla soldiers
of Farc and Eln, while on the bottom there is the military guarding every road.
Behind the military there are the paramilitary, the illegal wing of the government
“those who carry out the dirty work”.
“We are literally abandoned to our selves – she continues while settling the
uncomfortable bench on which she is sitting – we live in a no man’s land. We see
the presence of the State only in the fumigations. Everything is lacking up here:
roads, running water, light. There are only campesinas families that work hard at the fields and that want some peace in this war”.
Her tone is now angry. “Try speaking with these people. They have been fleeing
for years all around Colombia, chased by the occasional paramilitaries that want
to take over the best lands, the richest ones in resources. There are people that
have had to abandon house and family seven times. Every time starting from zero,
do you understand? These paras are sons of this State, of this violence that has
been persecuting us for 40 years”.
Since that day in May of five years ago, the airplanes full of poison have come
back constantly. “And with them also the paramilitary”, Lorena has watery eyes.
Her hair rolled into a bun leaves her face uncovered. It’s difficult to hide her
emotions. “It was a day like many. In a moment they were all over the place. They
are quiet like cats. When we notice them it’s always too late to do anything all
the more to escape. They surround us and make of us whatever they want”. The most
common accusation is of being pro-guerrilla. “That time they killed ten people”.
But this strong and resolute woman will not go along with it: “Enough with receiving
violence and threats: We are between two fires and we are hit by everyone. We
have reacted trying to build our reality one bit at the time. Slowly the association
of which I’m vice president is developing alternative ideas so to go on anyway
without having to abandon this village. We don’t want to run away anymore – she
adds with pride banging her fist on the table – we now have a communal vegetable
garden, an elementary and secondary school and thanks to an agreement with certain
doctors we even receive a decent although sporadic assistance. For these areas
this is already a luxury. Of course the health center built by the UN is there
new and empty without a medicine, but I’ve set up a little shop were I sell medicines.
Even the most simple ones that otherwise would be impossible for us to find. After
the health reform, the government gives out only vaccines, check ups for uterine
cancer and pregnancy, aspirin and milk enzymes – she smiles bitterly – for the
rest if you don’t have money you cannot cure your self. I try to sell medicines
at very low prices and often we use barter. It’s only by helping each other out
that we can make it”.
Our last idea is of planting cacao. “We informed ourselves – she says showing
some paper in a red file – our association has also this purpose, to accumulate
knowledge, because here ignorance kills. By reading, leafing through documents,
talking to people of other associations, we have come to know that there are some
incentives for legal cultivations. And this is what we will do. On one hand we
are bargaining with the State and on the other against the State, with the guerrilla.
Now this area is controlled by them – while she points with her hand to the big
green lush mountains that loom over the village – and it’s them who have to approve
all of our decisions. What can one say? At least being under them prevents us
from other paramilitary attacks and with the guerrilla even if armed and ready
for anything, one can reason. These are the rules in Colombia and only between
two fires – the woman concludes with a sigh – does one obtain some peace”.
stampainvia
Lorena, 52 years old and a lot of energy in trying to be respected by the State, the guerrilla and the paras
from our correspondent
Stella Spinelli
“A sudden noise and then the irritating and invasive smell. In a moment all is
lost”. Lorena Tobar, 52 years old stares into space while remembering those moments
on that day in May 2001 when her village in Sur de Bolivar in the north central
part of Colombia was fumigated for the first time. “That poison is lethal – she
says – it kills animals, plants and the ground remains unusable for decades. Look
at these tomatoes that grow around my house, they are full of white patches. It’s
a nightmare. They say that the reason is to eradicate the cocaine plantations,
but the poor people are the ones that face the consequences”. This shower of
pesticides, causes devastating effects also on mankind. “It has the consistency
of oil on the skin but it itches. Eyes burn and water. It’s unbearable”. Then
there are headaches, vomit, diarrhea specially among the younger ones. Not to
mention the long term consequences: “Two women had a miscarriage a few days after
and in other villages around here some women have given birth to malformed babies.
A man died while he was working on the fields that were fumigated and nothing
could be done”. Since Plan Colombia was approved in 2000, the government of Alvaro Uribe has
been supported by the United States in the fight against coke. Airplanes full
of defoliating chemicals have been sent to nearly all rural areas of the country
for a cost that fluctuates around 1,7 million dollars, making Colombia the main
receiver of American aid after Egypt and Israel.
Cultivations of rice, yucca, maize and plantain, basic food for the survival
of the rural areas have gone lost. The numerous water springs of Colombia have
been put to risk. In the southern part of the country many springs have already
been contaminated.
We are in the center of Magdalena Medio, in a small village carved out of the
forest. On the top of the high mountains there are plenty of guerrilla soldiers
of Farc and Eln, while on the bottom there is the military guarding every road.
Behind the military there are the paramilitary, the illegal wing of the government
“those who carry out the dirty work”. “In this area, 80 percent of the land that is being poisoned is cultivated legally
– Lorena explains – and the irony of the situation is that the cultivators of
coke often manage to save nearly all the harvest. Risking their health they cut
the plants immediately after the passage of the airplane and the problem is solved.
The same is not valid for fruits and plantains. Chicken, hens and rabbits drop
like flies”. The woman handles nervously a piece of paper found on the wooden
table around which we are sitting. “This is why we have gotten together, in some
way we have to survive”.
It’s a hot day of January. Around us a group of youngsters is playing soccer
in the area facing the houses. Lorena tells us how she decided to promote the
constitution of a farmers’ association that defends their rights substituting
the State’s absence. As an association they have tried to ask for compensations,
assistance, aid and international attention “It’s our intention to commit to the
cultivation of harvests different than coke, but the passage is complex because
coke is cultivated out of hunger not to become rich. It’s the only product that
grows easily and that has a market, but we are moving to find possible alternative
solutions”.
“We are literally abandoned to our selves – she continues while settling the
uncomfortable bench on which she is sitting – we live in a no man’s land. We see
the presence of the State only in the fumigations. Everything is lacking up here:
roads, running water, light. There are only campesinas families that work hard at the fields and that want some peace in this war”.
Her tone is now angry. “Try speaking with these people. They have been fleeing
for years all around Colombia, chased by the occasional paramilitaries that want
to take over the best lands, the richest ones in resources. There are people that
have had to abandon house and family seven times. Every time starting from zero,
do you understand? These paras are sons of this State, of this violence that has
been persecuting us for 40 years”. Since that day in May of five years ago, the airplanes full of poison have come
back constantly. “And with them also the paramilitary”, Lorena has watery eyes.
Her hair rolled into a bun leaves her face uncovered. It’s difficult to hide her
emotions. “It was a day like many. In a moment they were all over the place. They
are quiet like cats. When we notice them it’s always too late to do anything all
the more to escape. They surround us and make of us whatever they want”. The most
common accusation is of being pro-guerrilla. “That time they killed ten people”.
But this strong and resolute woman will not go along with it: “Enough with receiving
violence and threats: We are between two fires and we are hit by everyone. We
have reacted trying to build our reality one bit at the time. Slowly the association
of which I’m vice president is developing alternative ideas so to go on anyway
without having to abandon this village. We don’t want to run away anymore – she
adds with pride banging her fist on the table – we now have a communal vegetable
garden, an elementary and secondary school and thanks to an agreement with certain
doctors we even receive a decent although sporadic assistance. For these areas
this is already a luxury. Of course the health center built by the UN is there
new and empty without a medicine, but I’ve set up a little shop were I sell medicines.
Even the most simple ones that otherwise would be impossible for us to find. After
the health reform, the government gives out only vaccines, check ups for uterine
cancer and pregnancy, aspirin and milk enzymes – she smiles bitterly – for the
rest if you don’t have money you cannot cure your self. I try to sell medicines
at very low prices and often we use barter. It’s only by helping each other out
that we can make it”. Our last idea is of planting cacao. “We informed ourselves – she says showing
some paper in a red file – our association has also this purpose, to accumulate
knowledge, because here ignorance kills. By reading, leafing through documents,
talking to people of other associations, we have come to know that there are some
incentives for legal cultivations. And this is what we will do. On one hand we
are bargaining with the State and on the other against the State, with the guerrilla.
Now this area is controlled by them – while she points with her hand to the big
green lush mountains that loom over the village – and it’s them who have to approve
all of our decisions. What can one say? At least being under them prevents us
from other paramilitary attacks and with the guerrilla even if armed and ready
for anything, one can reason. These are the rules in Colombia and only between
two fires – the woman concludes with a sigh – does one obtain some peace”.
Articoli correlati: La scheda paese:
Gli argomenti più discussi:
Le parole chiave più ricorrenti:
