I Live in a Zoo

“I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy. Let's face it, friends make life a lot more fun.” -Charles R. Swindoll

For most of my life, I have had fish. When I was in elementary school we took a couple fish from our friend’s pond and put them in a tank in our living room. They lived until I was in high school. Throughout college I had fish, transporting them back and forth between Minnesota and Michigan in Nalgene bottles. In grad school, my boyfriend had fish…

Now, in Libertad, I don’t have fish. I was thinking that fish would be nice. I mean, they are so easy to take care of, they are cute, and they do not take up much time. However, fish are not what ended up living in my house.

The first animal that I noticed sharing quarters with me was George. I don’t really know how it started, but every time I see a little lizard I say, “Oh, hola George!” It makes the kids laugh. I am pretty sure they think George is the word for lizard in English. I’ve done it so much, that now I greet the lizards even when the kids are not playing in the house.

Then one night when I was washing the dishes, I picked up my bowl and what comes scuttling out? A cockroach. I wasn’t really surprised and I killed it with my flip flop. Then in the shower, one scuttled over my foot. That one got away. I do not give the cockroaches names.

The next animal to enter into my house came in through the ceiling. I was lying in bed (in the back room, my “I’m not sleeping but I want to rest” room) watching a movie on my computer and I saw it peeking out from where the roof meets the wall: a mouse. The little guy then proceeded to crawl down the wall, like Spiderman. I was impressed. I did not know that mice could do that. However, when he reached the ground and went under the bed, I decided it was time to switch rooms and hop in my sleeping bed.

The next morning I got out of bed and was walking toward the kitchen when something fell from my hair, hit my shoulder, and landed on the floor. I looked at my feet to see a cockroach crawling away. I immediately smacked it to death with my sandal and turned around just in time to see a mouse crawling out of my room. When I went back to make my bed, I noticed mouse poop by my pillow. I decided that that was enough of that: having these little buggers in my bed with me is not a welcome experience.

I decided that I should get a cat.

However, I did not get a cat.

One day, two of my little buds showed up on my step with a pigeon. They were so adorable in how insistent they were that I keep the pigeon and their promises to come twice a day to feed it (which they have fulfilled) that I accepted the gift. I named the pigeon Kevin, like the bird in Up.

“Kevin’s a girl!?”

Best line.

Anyway, everyone here thinks I named her after a guy who is a part of the Community Council.

A couple days later, the boys returned with another pigeon. I really didn’t feel like I needed another bird, but they convinced me that Kevin needed company. So Daniel arrived. Unfortunately, Daniel escaped pretty quickly. No fear though, he was immediately replaced with another pigeon (yet to be named). Originally I kept them tied up in the back bathroom, but now they’re pretty used to being in my house and so they don’t try to escape. I still try to keep them in the bathroom because, let’s be honest, birds poop a lot.

The kiddos come over every morning and every afternoon to feed Kevin and give him water (the second one is older so he eats by himself). We sit on the porch and make sure they are well fed and the boys talk about which parts of Kevin they are going to eat when we cook him. They mostly do it to get a reaction out of me (because there is no way I am letting them cook Kevin), but it is something that people do here: eat pigeon. Apparently it is tasty. 

  

So now I have many Georges, cockroaches, mice, and pigeons.

I think in the future I’d like to stick with fish.

A Different Way to Vote

“No Pessimists ever discovered the secret of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit.” –Helen Keller

I’m not a big fan of elections in the United States and it turns out I’m not a big fan of elections in Colombia either.

It is election time now and I am learning a lot. I have learned that elections don’t all happen on one day: in March they will vote for senate and representatives, but later in the year they will vote for president; I have learned that people can vote once they are 18 years old, like in the US; I have learned that there are many political parties, but some are much stronger than others; but mostly I have learned about the practice of “buying” votes.  With the peace talks between the Colombian government and the FARC hopefully coming to a close in Havana, these elections will determine who is in power when the agreements are put into place.  There is quite a lot at stake which is generating a lot of movement and involvement in the vote buying process this year.

It’s been pretty depressing. Living among the people in the community, I totally understand why it happens and why it works this way, but from a stance of idealism, it is a completely broken system. Most people have little hope that a candidate is actually going to do anything to support their rights and needs as a community, so instead of taking into consideration what the candidate is promising to do in the future, the people look for what the candidate will give them now.

The process is well organized. Candidates have people in the communities that look for votes for them. These people talk with the community members, find out what they need (money, a laundry machine, blocks to construct their house, a good reference for a job) and in exchange for a promised vote, they get them what they need. The people who are looking for votes also get some sort of compensation. And not only is it individual compensation, but community compensation as well. Our neighborhood has been promised a transformer by one candidate (selfishly, I’m kind of hoping that one comes through… I haven't had electricity for 3 days now and I’m sick of unplugging my refrigerator on a regular basis in the evening when the electricity goes wacky.). 

Not only are there political posters everywhere, but they paint walls of stores, homes, and businesses with the names of the candidates.  It's pretty much everywhere.

One neighbor explained to me that this year they are much more organized because they have had problems in the past with people getting on more than one list and receiving compensation for more votes than they could actually give. This year, they are comparing lists and making sure that everything adds up. There is no actual way to verify that people are actually voting for the candidate that they say they will vote for, which gives me hope: at least there is still anonymity in voting. However, even though the candidate may not be, the people are honest, and if they say they will vote for someone, they will vote for that someone.

It all makes me feel incredibly hopeless, but one friend here reminded me that it can change. If the community was able to organize, to back one candidate that they believe in, the system could change. “Sí se puede cambiar, Lani. Se puede cambiar,” she told me. There is always hope.