Colombia

Running Dark

alicia — Mon, 04 Oct 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Running Dark is the second book in Jamie Freveletti’s action-mystery-thriller series featuring chemist and long-distance runner Emma Caldridge. The first book, Running from the Devil, establishes the character of Caldridge as a strong scientist with a flair for quick thinking and physical endurance in the worst of situations. Running from the Devil followed Caldridge as her commercial plane was hijacked and crashed in the Colombian rainforest; Caldridge managed to get away from the group of surviving passengers as they were rounded up and lead through the forest by a group of Colombian fighters playing the middlemen for a drug cartel, intent on ransoming the survivors at their destination.

Caldridge demonstrated her physical and mental endurance as well as her scientific knowledge of natural chemistry, as she carefully followed the group through the Colombian jungle, surviving first on the remains of increasingly-rancid airplane food and then native plants. The group walked several miles a day; as Caldridge followed, she often had to race ahead or double back to avoid detection, landmines, and another mysterious group who begins to track her path with the help of trained dogs.

Occasionally, crash survivors were killed by the Colombian fighters, or left for dead on the path. When the kidnappers realize that Cameron Sumner, a U.S. government agent, might threaten their plan for ransoming the survivors, they hurt him badly. Caldridge eventually stumbles upon him, helps him through infection and fever, and makes an ally in the process. Their dependence on one another for personal survival and professional secrecy established the core relationships at work in the next book in the series.

Following on the heels of Freveletti’s first thriller, Running Dark takes place in South Africa, Somalia, and on the high seas of the Gulf of Aden as Caldridge makes her way from an endurance race during which she survives a roadside bomb and injection by an unknown substance to a cruise ship in peril of being overrun by Somali pirates. On that cruise ship is Cameron Sumner, working for Darkview, a United States-based independent security firm.

The pirate strike is a surprise to Sumner and the crew; because weapons are illegal on cruise ships, they barely manage to stave off several attacks using Sumner’s smuggled gun and the help of several passengers and crew members. Meanwhile, no one but Caldridge and the Darkview team back in the U.S. know that amongst the cargo on the ship might be several vials of Sarin, a colorless, odorless, and very deadly chemical weapon. When Caldridge finally reaches the imperiled boat, Sumner and Calderidge work with the crew and passengers of the ship to fight the invasion and try to safely operate the ship despite the nearly-constant threat of chemical and conventional attacks.

As was Running from the Devil, Running Dark is fast-paced and filled with interesting details about the characters’ lives, work habits, and career-oriented knowledge. The chapter narratives move back and forth in point of view from the bad guys to the good guys, keeping the reader on her/ his toes and introducing new and dangerous scenarios every few pages. Running Dark is not as all-absorbing as is Running from the Devil, and unfortunately there are several chapters that feel as if they are marking time until the final climax. I highly recommend reading the first novel before the second in order to contextualize the relationships and understand the back story of the events and characters revisited in Running Dark; if you’re a fan of international thrillers and/ or layered female characters, give Freveletti’s Emma Caldridge a try in this series.

Written by: Stefanie Snider, October 4th 2010

The Blessing Next to the Wound: A Story of Art, Activism, and Transformation

admin — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Hector Aristizabal, Diane Lefer

Lantern Books

As a survivor of government sanctioned torture in Colombia, Hector Aristizabal was left with unsettled anger and fear. His wariness towards both his country and his future there worsens when one of his brothers is murdered by paramilitary soldiers. Aristizabal is eventually able to cast aside his bitterness, and find ways to aid others in their struggles by holding workshops for prisoners and victims of violence in the United States. While the dust jacket of The Blessing Next to the Wound gives the impression that it is a memoir of surviving both torture and a corrupt government, the book's focus is actually splintered. It tells many stories connected through Aristzabal’s drive to aid others set both before and after his imprisonment and torture for alleged political ties.

The Blessing Next to the Wound begins with Aristizabal aiding his pregnant girlfriend and other young women seeking an illegal abortion. While Aristizabal boastfully lists the many women he seduced throughout his life, he also offers sympathy for the plight women face in a country with limited birth control resources. This later motivates him to undergo a vasectomy following the birth of his own two children, admitting that while he may not always be faithful to his wife, he will never impregnate another woman. While Aristizabal shows himself to grow, his treatment of women is never shown to be fully resolved. As a feminist, I fruitlessly waited for this to be given some resolution during the course of the book.

Each chapter tells a different vignette from Aristizabal’s rich life experience. While this approach causes the book to lack a clear focus, and often a sense of chronology, the bits and pieces he shares from his life are nonetheless captivating and often moving. During the course of the memoir Aristizabal chronicles the hardships faced by his homosexual brother who eventually dies of AIDS, the effect of the cocaine industry on Colombia, the many human rights violations that exist in the United States, and how his theater-based therapy work aids others in places of crisis in their lives. Now and then Aristizabal will make a connection between the chapter’s experience and his time spent imprisoned and tortured; these connections serve to lessen the fragmented feel of the work.

Despite its lack of focus, The Blessing Next to the Wound offers a moving portrayal of finding inspiration and direction after surviving torture.

Written by: Adrienne Urbanski, August 17th 2010

Entre Nos

admin — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Gloria La Morte, Paola Mendoza

IndiePix Studios

Mariana and her children, Gabriel and Andrea, are stranded in New York City. Two weeks after her husband Antonio asked them to leave their native Colombia and join him in Queens after a lengthy separation, he left $50 in an envelope, headed for Miami, and stopped answering his phone. A family friend tells Mariana that he isn’t coming home.

Undocumented and completely broke, Mariana tries to sell homemade empanadas on the streets while also accepting random jobs as they come. On one occasion, she’s forced to leave the kids home alone while she goes out for a few hours to take day work as a dishwasher. Kids being kids, they lay around teaching each other curse words in English until a friend comes by with a better offer, and they all sneak out to take an illicit dip in an elderly neighbor’s pool. Racing home after they’re discovered and chased away by an angry old man, they’re only seconds ahead of their mother on the subway platform, who witnesses them out alone in public. Clearly terrified for her children’s safety and of the U.S. authorities, she barges into their tiny apartment moments after her children, shouting at Gabi that in this country, they take children away from their parents.

Though their circumstances are often dire, the bond depicted between Mariana, Andrea, and Gabriel is remarkable. Overcoming a seemingly endless stream of difficulties along the way, Gabi pitches in to help the family survive, collecting cans when Mariana is too sick or exhausted to do it herself. And while the ways in which Mariana sacrifices for her children are clear, there are also lovely examples like when she pays for the kids to see a movie together. The $21 entrance fee for three is a bit steep, but she can shell out enough for the two of them and makes them swear to meet her out front the moment the film is over. They shriek in agreement as they race into the air-conditioned building as she calls after them, "Te quiero!"

Co-director Paola Mendoza is largely responsible for honoring the depictions of the struggling immigrant mother and her young children; the story is based on her own family’s struggle, a tribute to her mother. Entre Nos is very visually pleasing, expertly edited and strikingly beautiful despite the pain it depicts. Scenes of quintessential American poverty loom throughout, like neighbor women sharing at-home abortion tips on the sly or when the small family stands timidly outside the emergency room after Gabi hurt his leg until Mariana offers to “wash it at home” before they retreat back into the night. Whether they’re afraid of being deported or because they simply can’t afford the medical bills, the scene is an important reminder of how poverty and immigration are often deeply intertwined.

The film weaves themes of homelessness and the camaraderie of the streets with universal depictions of the strength and resilience of single mothers and their innocent, precocious children. It also reminds you that even if life as an undocumented immigrant seems unbearable, even if you want to go home, you may not be able to afford to turn around.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 20th 2010

La Bodega

admin — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Totó la Momposina

Astar Artes

Opening with a brassy, but sentimental horn sound on “Manita Uribe,” the first track of La Bodega bursts into a rhythmic and exuberant potpourri of singing, guitar, and percussion accompanied throughout by a horn section that complements and leavens the sheer joy that comes through on this song. While listening to this album, I was momentarily transported from the wintry Illinois landscape to more tropical climes. The second track, “Margarita,” features Andean/Indian gaita flutes as a backdrop to the chorus and rhythmic drumming that seem to beckon one into a celebratory mood.

If you’re looking for a mood altering experience from your music, La Bodega is just the ticket. Although Totó la Momposina is from Columbia, the third track “Sueño Españo” reminded me of a band you might hear in a Mexican restaurant that stops by your table to serenade you and your dining partner. In “Fidelina,” a strong drum accompaniment is the backdrop for Totó’s strong and feisty singing along with the ever-present brass accompaniment. This is foot tapping, rousing music and reminds us that we’re meant to participate fully in life, not just be passive observers.

La Bodega has been described as “mixed indigenous Columbian and Afro-Latin.” The genre may be less familiar and accessible to listeners than the more familiar urban Latin pop sound that has garnered a worldwide following in the past few decades, but it creates a unique listening experience.

Totó la Momposina is one of the best known singers of this genre. She is a fourth-generation musician from the village of Tallaigua, which is located on the island of Momos, the inspiration for her name. La Bodega would make a great backdrop for a dinner party or any kind of social gathering where you want to lighten the mood and provide a festive and relaxing atmosphere for your guests. If you’re not the party giving type, but have a passion and interest for diverse musical traditions, this is an album that you will want to add to your collection.

Written by: Gita Tewari, March 18th 2010

Black and Green: Afro-Colombians, Development, and Nature in the Pacific Lowlands

admin — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 16:56:00 +0000

By Kiran Asher

Duke University Press

Black and Green is a publication based on Kiran Asher’s doctoral thesis in political science, a field she came to by ways of a masters in Environmental Management and much field experience in Costa Rica, Belize, China, and now Colombia. It is her contact with local people that let Asher to want to explore the link between environmental management and society, and her passion for both of these areas of investigation is well displayed in this book.

Throughout Black and Green, one finds passages where the author speaks of her connection with people involved in the Afro-Colombian movement, a concrete connection made through relationships forged during field work with the people she is writing about. Asher’s book not only examines a little-known area of research (resource management in the Colombian Pacific Lowlands on the west coast) but also gives a voice to a people (Afro-Colombians) who have had problems getting their voice heard in their own country and on their continent, let alone to a wider English-speaking audience.

Research in both of these fields is only recent. African slaves and their descendants have inhabited the Pacific coast area for almost as long as the Spanish colonizers. However, the acknowledgment of a distinct Afro-Colombian identity and the development of a national Afro-Colombians movement have only arisen in the last thirty years. Similarly, in a part of the country which has largely been forgotten by national (and often nonexistent) environmental policies—and despite being home to a unique biodiversity—the development of ecological strategies is also quite novel. Both of these issues, as Asher points out, are inextricably linked, and thus the correlation of these issues in her study.

Asher is a privileged witness (and occasional, often reluctant participant) to the process she is analyzing. She frequently employs firsthand accounts of the meetings she attends and the people she meets, something that transforms Black and Green into an interesting narrative of Asher’s own involvement with/in the identity she is studying (something she is very conscious of and recognizes the ambiguities of). The author does not shy away from exposing underlying issues relevant to the construction of her text; this is especially true in the last chapter where she deals with the thorny problem of Colombia’s last few decades and specifically the guerrilla and paramilitary presence in the region she deals with.

Chapter 4, on Afrocolombianas (Afro-Colombian women), is one of the shortest, but one which could have been developed into its own book. Asher’s meaningful connection with the Afrocolombianas is evident in this chapter and her writing at its strongest. She accentuates the implication of Afrocolombianas in the environmental policies movement and establishes the importance of their mobilization for the larger identity and environmental movements.

Overall, Black and Green is an engaging study that signifies a defining moment for academic studies about both Afro-Colombians and nature in Latin America.

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, December 6th 2009

Running from the Devil

admin — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 16:37:00 +0000

By Jamie Freveletti

Harper Collins

Jamie Freveletti’s authorial debut, Running from the Devil, begins with the story of Emma Caldridge, a chemist and ultra-marathon runner who boards a plane for Bogota and ends up in a plane crash in the Colombian jungle. She is thrown from the wreckage during the crash, and thus spared from being taken hostage by a group of Colombian guerillas. What initially appears to be a fairly standard kidnapping-ransom situation soon reveals itself to be much more as the stories of the other passengers, the hostage takers, and the rescue teams come to light. Emma Caldridge finds herself in the middle of this terrifying and dangerous situation and, due to a recent research discovery that she has carried to Colombia with her, hidden in the form of a lipstick, she soon realizes she is the catalyst of the situation as well.

_Running from the Devil _is a very entertaining novel, and an impressive debut from this new author. She intertwines the storylines in a way that is easy to follow without losing any of the suspense that builds throughout the chapters during the transitions. The characters are fairly stereotypical and easily categorized as hero, heroine, or villain, but Freveletti does give the story’s primary heroine, Emma Caldridge, some unconventional qualities, such as her athletic prowess and her scientific knowledge. I found the attribution of good looks to the characters with the most cunning to be cliché, and the mentioning of Emma Caldridge’s “cat-shaped and vibrant green” eyes to be a bit excessive, but at the same time, the weapon hidden in the lipstick seems to suggest that strength and power can be found under the most seemingly superficial of appearances.

I would like to infer that the jungle in _Running from the Devil _is actually a metaphor for the working world, in today’s developed countries. In this setting, traditionally masculine traits, such as athleticism and a scientific mind can prove advantageous to women who excel in these areas, but at other times these are traits that make some men feel threatened. By the same token, some women embrace traits such as their sexuality and appearance in a way that helps them to be more successful and feel more empowered in the workplace. This allows women to use what is uniquely feminine about them—those qualities that set them apart from their male competition—to their advantage. But, as the lethal weapon hidden in a lipstick container in Freveletti’s novel shows us, sometimes a woman’s excessive focus on the superficial aspects of her person can pose the greatest threat.

Written by: Rebecca McBride, July 13th 2009

La Corona

admin — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 10:52:00 +0000

Directed by Amanda Micheliand Isabel Vega

Cinema Guild

La Corona, which translates to "the crown," is a short documentary centering around a beauty pageant which takes place every year in the largest female prison in Colombia. One of the judges jokes early on that Colombia has a pageant for everything, except cocaine. The prison warden, when interviewed, says that she doesn't like the pageant very much, but it is the only time of the year that there is some peace and quiet around the prison because all of the girls look forward to it so much and want to participate.

Girls are nominated from each of the four cell blocks to represent their block in the beauty pageant. The first contestant we are introduced to is Maira Alejandro, a girl about five foot four inches in stature who was put in jail for murder. She explains in an interview that she has killed many times, which is unbelievable taking into account her size. The second contestant, Viviane Busto, was convicted of guerrilla activity. She laments her time in prison, because she has a son who she would like to eventually reunite with and teach him everything she knows. Angela Valoyes, convicted of robbery and assault, is a lesbian whose eyes sparkle as she describes passages from the Bible "that God told us to love, but he did not tell us who specifically to love." The newest convict, Angie Jimenez, has only been in jail for eighteen days. She hasn't gotten used to life in jail, especially since she also has a son on the outside.

Each of the girls chosen to compete must be prepared at all times. Meaning, they must be wearing high heels and full makeup. They also have to attend dancing and runway walking classes, like a real beauty pageant. In participating in the pageant, they become minor celebrities among the inmates. Hand-washed laundry hangs from every steel bar that covers the windows in the jail, but for the competition, the women are given designer dresses.

It seems absurd that women would have to conform to gender standards in something like a beauty pageant while they are in prison, and toward the end of the documentary you wonder who the pageant is really for: the women inside, or the great hordes of reporters who cover the pageant?

The competition only takes up about ten minutes of the documentary. The girls dance and sing with traditional Colombian songs, and there is even a swimsuit competition. When the winner is finally announced (I won't ruin it for you), she gets a full spread in the newspaper. By the end of the film, girls in other blocks complain that the competition was rigged or blame racism for why their contestant didn't win. Things go back to normal for the most part, until one of the prisoners is released. The ending is abrupt and leans hard on the idea that the pageant, while entertaining, doesn't teach the girls how to change and adapt for the better. But, as Vivianne Busto tearfully explains, "It gives us something to look forward to."

Written by: Chrissie Thornburg, March 25th 2009