Uganda got closer to the utopia of Krasnogruda, the reason perhaps why it caused so much devastation. To be thinking here, in this green,sun and warmth, among children's chatter and laughter, about that? About what's up there? Abstract. But, one has to think about it.
And perhaps, in such a setting as this one here, in spite of all, everything seems easier?
Voices come over from the rehearsal room, the choir begins to tune up, they adjust to each other their tones and colours. Behind the Aviary, further elements of the construction are made for the Saturday climax. The Bridge appears increasingly clear, though zigzagging, it meanders toward the other side. Yesterday, Lars Hvinden-Haug said at his workshop: - In the Far East it was believed that if you lead evil spirits in a proper way, they can get lost. I did not think I could hit on this solution here.
East is not so far away from here, though.
Just behind the bridge, girls, under Ula’s eye, weave on a wheel. Ola and Emilia from Sejny, Weronika from Giby, who work in a Borderland’s workroom during the school year, are disappointed. – Everything passes us by today! Tell us what was it like during the workshop!
They regret they were not present during the second part of the meeting with Jessica. A crowd gathered there. Children and adults, together again, you could hear English, Russian, Polish, Belarusian and Ukrainian. Jessica wanted to show her daily work, what her theatre classes are about. But, at the beginning she had a different meeting in mind for the workshop participants - You know each other already well, don’t you? - She asked. After so many days? After so many meetings during we did things together? It seems obvious.
And yet. With a simple exercise in repetition of the name of your neighbour on the right and left (a large group of dozens of participants stands in a circle), some cannot manage. You have to try until you succeed. Other tasks go smoothly then. There was a tug of war, a siege of a fort, some of them felt they were in the kindergarten again. But the emotions that accompanied them were no longer only childish. When it came to the summing-up, sharing experiences from the performed tasks, you could hear insightful analyses. Someone felt trapped, someone was proud that the team (Apache tribe defending themselves against the enemy attack) managed to negotiate what they felt was most important and what they wished to defend, someone else noticed that it was good to stay with someone close, to get to know him/her through touch and common work.
And work does continue. Workshops run continuously, but there are meetings-surprises. A small group embarked on one of them – they were hosted by Biruta, local herbalist, magician of the local cuisine. She sat them in the attic, among the spread out or scattered for drying buds, twigs and leaves; downstairs, at the lavishly set table (dried cheese!), she talked about how best to make lentil dumplings, about how you should always look at chicken’s legs (if yellow - chicken broth will be good) and you should add all ingredients using a tongue-in-cheek perfect measure. And she gave each a paper bag for the road.
It was them that Jessica was jealous about. – Pour out some for me, please! – she said on their return.
It is already noon, more workshops come to a close. And the Village greets new residents. You can meet them when they are making notebooks - it's like a ritual induction to the Village. Anyone who comes here should manually prepare such a notebook, for collecting one’s thoughts and experiences of these few days. Just like Bernadette from Norway. Back in her country, she works with adult immigrants. Here she came as a representative of the organization that cooperates with Borderland. – I do not quite know what is going on here, but I immediately felt that I had to open for the experience. And the kids who are here! Their energy is amazing, the first thing that fascinated me here. Their honesty, incredible intelligence, how much they contribute to our, adult, thinking.
While selecting the covers and inside pages, she talks about her work, about a small shock that accompanies her from the first moments in Krasnogruda. Ilan, already a seasoned villager understands her, though. - It took me a while before I realized what Krzysztof and all of them mean here. First of all: open yourself to experience and draw on your own to make things clear to others, to inspire them somehow.
In the evening, this task stood before Gwen Burnyeat, social activist, writer and researcher from England. Gwen has for several days spun enchanting stories of her experiences, including professional vicissitudes and the last, most important project concerning a collective of farmers in a Colombian village.
Krzysztof introduces this meeting with the Master: - For many of us it was a difficult night. Yesterday’s emotions still seethe somewhere within us. We were with Jessica on the border of Sudan and Uganda, and today Gwen takes us to the heart of the Americas, to the point where they meet. It's also not an easy place - a broken bridge. The breaking point of the Panamericana, the road leading from the far north, from Alaska, down to the ends of Chile. At the place where Gwen works, literally and figuratively, the trail loses its continuity. What she's trying to do is to spin a thread of understanding over this broken, ravaged by civil wars, space.
Gwen - I want to tell you about the Peace Community of San José de Apartadó in Colombia. This is where I work. This is one of the most difficult frontier zones in the world. The area I'm talking about is beautiful, very diverse, with beautiful nature, rich in resources, but also so horribly afflicted by wars, by the raging there for decades wars between paramilitaries and the government forces and Colombian authorities.
In the early 90s, the farmers, Gwen talks about, found themselves in a clinch situation - paramilitary militias on the one hand, the government forces - on the other. - And they - says Gwen - simply wanted to cultivate their fields and live a normal life. The easiest way to explain to you their situation: imagine this entanglement: one night, paramilitaries enter the village from one side of the forest and order at gunpoint: give us water. A day later, from the other side of the forest come governmental troops: You gave them water! You're in cahoots! Get out of here! So, that’s how, in a nutshell, evictions happened. You also need to know that that time was also a time of tremendous, unimaginable cruelty of the militants. Corpses were massacred, they cut off heads and played football with them, anything to intimidate the farmers who stood up for their fields and villages.
It is due to their determination - and with the support of institutions of international law – that they were able to declare neutrality. The community, Gwen refers to, is a self-sufficient collective, approaching utopia. - That reminds me a bit - she says with a smile – of Krasnogruda. - It would be best, if they could tell you about it themselves – she adds and invites to watch a film on the cultivation of cocoa, their occupation. The film she produced herself. - It's not a great tale, it’s a small story, but I think that it can acquire a universal dimension through its power.
One of the characters in the film says: - We do this, so that you, on the other side of the world may know that we must fight for our lives so that you can drink your cup of chocolate. And we often lose.
And again, the film show released emotions. The discussion went on long into the night.