Life from Canada to Latin America, one word at a time.
Once a year, I spend a day travelling by jeep through the Montes de Maria. I hate it. I love the communities that we visit, the conversations and meetings, the spaces of reflection afterwards, the green beauty surrounding everything. It’s the transportation that gets to me. Days before leaving, my stomach starts clenching and I
My walk to work this morning was normal. I passed the same dog walkers and shoeshine man as any other day. When I arrived, however, the office was giddy with excitement. Today was the day, long advocated and worked towards: a bilateral ceasefire, ending the active armed conflict between the government and the FARC, after
Last night, the Women Weavers of Dreams and Flavours of Peace of Mampuján won the National Peace Prize. These are my reflections after the event on the various definitions a peace prize can hold. A peace prize is a piece of paper with handwritten words on it. It can be held to to the light
Every lunch and dinner at the conference last month included a giant bowl of iceberg lettuce. There were different dressings and toppings for the lettuce at each meal. If that had been the only vegetable option, it would have been a little sad. Instead, there were generally at least two other veggie choices and I
Before coming to Colombia, I spent a summer working with an Aboriginal women’s group in the Yukon. I thought I knew things, but one of the greatest lessons I learnt was how little I actually did. As I researched and read, I learnt more deeply about the realities of missing and murdered Aboriginal women, colonialism,
“The barrenness of the poetic task: as if every day we look out at a courtyard of rubble and from this are required to make something beautiful.” – Theodore Roethke, quote found on the ever lovely Calm Things blog. For lunch sometimes, I go to a vegetarian restaurant near my office. The food is okay,
My parents never let me drink coffee as a child, even though I begged. Finally, in a ploy to cure me of my curiosity, when I was eleven years old they let me try coffee for the first time. It was disgusting. I vowed to never again allow that bitter brew to cross my lips.
When on Colombia’s Caribbean coast, I spend the my time in the places I know best: the small communities that pepper the highway in Bolívar. In order to truly enter into a costeño rhythm, it is imperative to leave the city and experience life in a pueblo. Still want the beach? A great route to
I arrived at the National Museum first on Wednesday night and was afraid that I wouldn’t spot them, but there was really no need to worry. The moment they walked through the doors of the auditorium, I knew it was them. In fact, I would know the Mampujaneros anywhere: their energy, their charisma, their style,
Last night was my fourth Noche de las Velitas (Night of the Little Candles). Lighting candles to welcome Mary on her journey to Bethlehem, and thus officially starting the Christmas season, is one of my favourite Colombian traditions. My first Noche de las Velitas, after living in Mampujan for two months, was completely new to
Anna L. Vogt 