9133 shoes

monday was the international day for landmine awareness and action.  there was a demonstration to mark the day in the main plaza in bogotá (plaza de simon bolivar, where most of the protests happen, and where the state department says i should often avoid).  i didn't realize this until i was reading about it in the paper, but there are more landmine victims in colombia than in any other country in the world besides afghanistan. landmines were banned by the mine ban treaty in 1997, but they continue to affect colombians, particularly in rural areas where the FARC and paramiliaries have been active.

the 9133 shoes displayed in the plaza represent
recorded victims of landmines in colombia since 1990. 870 of them are children's shoes--landmines disproportionately affect children, because they haven't been educated about them, or because they tend to play in areas where adults don't go. this is becoming an even bigger problem as people displaced by the war are finally starting to return to the homes they left.  the fighting may have shifted, but the danger is still there. landmines kill someone every other day in colombia, and since i got here in january, 72 people have been killed.  pretty chilling statistics.

i remember in south sudan seeing the red signs along the main road leading up from the border checkpoint to the market in nimule "danger: landmnes.  do not leave the road."  it was scary to think that just by straying from the path we could, potentially, die.  we passed huts and fields, where people were obviously living off of the main road.  little kids waved at us and screamed "muna!" (white girl).  they lived and played on this potentially mine-riddled land.

the schools where i was researching had NGO posters on the wall describing different types of mines, and how to recognize and avoid them.  i couldn't read them, but i studied them during breaks, just in case.  but the thing is, it's hard to be on your guard like that all the time.  one night my friend and i were perched  on the back of a motorcycle, heading off to a bar on the edge of town where the expats and aid workers hang out, when the driver said "we must take another route." he was a little evasive when we asked why, but eventually said, "the road right by your house, it has been closed off.  they think they have found a landmine and are trying to disable it."  it turned out to be a false alarm, but was still pretty scary.

the first time i heard about landmines, i was in first grade and saw a picture of princess diana with some girls in west africa.  i asked "mommy, why do those girls only have one leg?" and she said it was because of landmines, but i didn't quite get it. i wondered what they did with their extra one when they bought new shoes. the first time i was really exposed to the issue was when i was about 12 and reading this series of  books about afghanistan by deborah ellis. they're pretty great books, especially at presenting the issues to kids--showing children how war impacts children. in the story, the girl's brother has been killed by a landmine.  a girl in the story makes a living crossing minefields, and a boy in the book lost his leg to a mine.


these stories really impacted me.  they were just kids' books, but based on interviews in refugee camps in pakistan.  the idea that kids my age and even younger had to live with the reality that they might just be walking along one day, even well after a war had ended, and then suddenly, BOOM--they'd be dead or terribly maimed... it was frankly terrifying.  this is one of the worst weapons of war--long lasting, deadly, and almost target civilians and children with their indiscriminate destruction.

it was while reading these books that i decided i wanted to be an aid worker.  specifically, that i wanted to work on emergency education for war-affected children.  i remember quite clearly one night i'd stayed up until like 3 am to find out what happened to shauzia and her buddies in the story. and i got this vivid mental picture of myself standing outside a school tent in a refugee camp in pakistan. it was hot and dusty and i was watching the sun set, lost in thought about what had happened that day, and how we would move forward educating these children.  and i was entirely satisfied with what i was doing with my life.  and... well one thing led to another from there. i guess i've always vaguely kept that image in the back of my mind.  it's a good thing my sister had to read this for her book report and recommended it to me, or my life might be very different! but then again, i guess we all have a number of turning points in life, and we all eventually wind up where we're supposed to be.

P.S.  the US has not signed the 1997 international mine ban treaty. big surprise!  the US kind of sucks at signing on to international human rights legislation.  they also haven't ratified the UN convention on the rights of the child (just chillin' like a villain with somalia on the "only countries in the world that have not ratified" list), or the rome statute to join the international criminal court, and they take a sort of "maybe if we feel like it" approach to not funding armies that use child soldiers. but i digress.  there seems to be opposition to the treaty from the military, which tends to oppose anything that might potentially impact what they can and can't do (see: the international criminal court).  obama mentioned over a year ago that maybe we should look into signing the mine ban treaty, but it doesn't seem like a lot of progress has been made on that front.  if you want to do something about that, go HERE to sign a petition or write a letter to your member of congress about it.  thanks, you rock!

picture above: sign in a bus in colombia urging people to respect those with disabilities.  wheelchair, leg blown off by landmine, just your average disabilities.  toto, i've go a feeling we're not in kansas anymore)