I´m sure you are all familiar with those email alerts or posts on your Facebook newsfeed from Syria, from Palestine, from Guatemala and even from Colombia calling on you to take action about some human rights crisis somewhere. I don’t know about you, but I often feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of crisis in
Gift A day so happy. Fog lifted early. I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over the honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I knew no one worth my envying him. Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot. To think that once I was the same man did
Español Dear Seeders, I am excited for you to arrive this afternoon and to experience all of the chaos, challenges and community these two years will bring you! I am nervous of seeing the Anna of two years ago in your enthusiasm, excitement and perhaps belief that you can change the world. I would love
Español Imagine that you are an 18 year old young man. Imagine that for your whole life you have grown up in a country that promotes violence. There are knights waving flags in your Sunday school classroom. Billboards proclaim the glory of becoming a national hero. You know that when you reach the age of
IMPORTANT NOTE: This blog post is my lived experience and interpretation of the situation and not the official action alert nor the official position of Sembrandopaz or MCC. Political persecution sounds like something out of those political intrigue novels full of stock characters I used to devour in middle school. Life is an adventure and
Espanol Bogota is different. Instead of chickens and pigs roaming the streets as I walk to work, I avoid beautifully groomed dogs and their equally beautiful owners. Instead of stepping over ditches of grey water and greeting all of my neighbours by name, I try to be careful not to get run over by giant
Espanol aqui “Dignity is an internal state of peace that comes with the recognition and acceptance of the value and vulnerability of all living things.” –Donna Hicks I’m back in Colombia. Bogota to be precise. I had a wonderful summer vacation. I caught up with old friends, ate cheese, picked blueberries, read, laughed with family
As you may or may not be able to tell by looking over this blog, I tend to dwell in the realm of the intangible and the existential. I can write about what I learnt in the last two years about peace and justice and compassion with ease. But, when I face the challenge of
This is an ode, a eulogy if you will, to that tin can of glory, the Sembrandopaz van. Despite its unassuming appearance, with a royal blue paint job, a side door that I never really did figure out how to open, and the seats that appeared to be taken straight from the world’s most uncomfortable
These shriveled seeds we plant, corn kernel, dried bean, poke into loosened soil, cover over with measured fingertips These T-shirts we fold into perfect white squares These tortillas we slice and fry to crisp strips This rich egg scrambled in a gray clay bowl This bed whose covers I straighten smoothing edges till blue quilt
Anna L. Vogt 