The End of the Beginning

Where coffee beans were processed

     The first course, at Valparaiso, was memorable in so many ways. The class grew to twenty-five.

     Throughout my stay, people invited me to their homes to meet their families and see their fincas (farms). Many grew vegetables, but most produce went to market. They always served strong coffee which they had grown, harvested, processed, roasted and ground themselves. Or, sometimes an alcoholic drink they had made from corn (chicha), sugar cane or fruit (guarapo), or anise-tinged and very strong aguardiente. Often the children would sing, or whoever in the family played guitar. Since there was no t.v., people shared stories, jokes, ideas - real conversation, especially in the evenings.

Adios Mis Amigas!

     At the end of the course, the women prepared a farewell lunch and presented a wonderful "clausura” (closing ceremony). They served champagne, rum and a huge lunch with chicken and a big salad (lessons learned!), and much more. Of course, I was served far more than anyone else, much to my chagrin and protestations. The school teacher had a record-player that ran on batteries so some of the women did skits and folk dancing - it was really fun. Soon, others joined in and the party

Some students & guest at clausura

continued for hours. A visiting agricultural consultant from another organization was invited to join the lunch, as well.

    
     The teacher and I had arranged for a Jeep to come up to get us in the late afternoon, but he didn't show up (not uncommon, and they had no way to let us know they had been delayed or had to cancel), so we arranged to borrow horses to get down the mountain very early the next morning in order to catch a bus to town. A couple of young boys (one just 5 years old) were sent with us – on foot – to guide us and to take the horses back. One led a burro that carried two big pouches of yucca for market, plus my little suitcase. I had to laugh at the sight of my college-graduation present of luggage bouncing on his back. By then I had learned to use only the overnight piece, more like a duffel bag, since almost always at least one leg of the trip would involve traveling on a horse, mule or by foot, often with posters, books and other equipment to carry too.

Eleven More

     The success of this course was most gratifying and, as would continue, I learned as much as I taught. There would be a dozen such courses all told, at a new site every three or four weeks. Each community was different in climate and personality, and class size would vary from a dozen to fifty.   
     Once, at an especially isolated community that had policia stationed there because of occasional flare ups of violencia (more on that later), I was given the police chief's apartment at the back of the station and he stayed at the schoolhouse until another home could be arranged for me. (At the first house, I slept on a cot in a hallway while the entire family slept in the next room. There was no door between us and something big [rat?] kept shuffling about, keeping me awake and clapping my hands to keep it away, thus keeping everyone awake.) The police chief had by far the nicest mattress I'd seen (a real one, not straw), but when I went to blow my candle out one night a tarantula was sitting beside it. He scampered away and though I searched high and low, I never found it again and, fortunately, it didn't find me either. I did review the first aid chapter on spider bites before blowing out the candle, though.

Kicking It Up a Notch

      At another site, months later, Doña Victoria Rodriquez de Herran from the Colombian Coffee

Handsome dudes I met on the road

Federation happened to be visiting. She was in charge of programs for women and children all over the country. I met some truly amazing people in those years and she topped the list. Meeting her changed my path. She inspired me to organize leadership courses for women where I'd teach the leaders from a given region and they would return to their communities to teach what they'd learned. Rather than teach all classes myself, I'd enlist representatives from the various organizations that offered services to rural communities. Through their presentations women would learn what resources and educational opportunities were available. My bosses at SENA agreed it was a good plan. They knew of Doña Victoria and already collaborated with the various organizations she recommended.

       After teaching at a couple of more sites on my own, I would take two months to prepare for the new courses. It kicked everything up a notch and, while I already lived out of my little suitcase at least five days a week, it was about to bounce on the hindquarters of a lot more horses and mules.