Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure

Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part One

We embarked upon a huge adventure this holiday season and took a trip to Colombia, South America. My husband David was born there and adopted by American-Jewish parents at the age of two. After 40 years in the U.S. he'd never been back. As soon as we heard it was safe to travel there, we got our tickets.

We started in Bogota on December 20th. It is a beautiful city aside a great mountain range. Immediately, David's facial expression was one of astonishment and relief. We were finally here!

One of our first stops in Bogota was a trip to the Gold Museum. There are five distinct Indian tribes in Colombia and each one had master goldsmiths among them. The goldsmiths were held in high regard among the tribe. They made body adornment for tribal leaders, ritual objects, musical instruments (like whistles), vessels, and even mundane objects like fishing hooks.

As a metal artist, I was continually impressed with their mastery. They used techniques like lost wax casting, fabrication, and forging. They also played with alloys for changing the color of the gold and for raising and lowering the melting temperature. As a spiritual person, I was moved by their connection and gratitude toward earth. They held ceremonies at Guatavita Lake (outside of Bogota) where they dropped some of their ritual God figurines made from gold and emeralds into the lake. They did this to show gratitude for God and to make sure that they were keeping a good balance between taking and giving to the earth. Unfortunately, the Spanish found the gold in this lake and went to great lengths to steal as much of it as they could.

I was moved to tears at this museum not just because of the beauty and mastery of their gold work, but also because they were a beautiful people. I mourn the loss of them on this planet. Only 2% of the Colombian population is still ge-

netically entirely native, although most Colombians are a mix. David is among them -- he is about 50% Indian.

Here's a piece that clearly gives homage to the sun:

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After the gold museum and a delicious traditional Colombian lunch we shopped for emeralds. Colombian mines are the number one source of emeralds in the world. The quality and prices were unmatched. We bought many. A few have still not been claimed if you are interested in commissioning a custom piece with one of these special stones:

The next day, we crossed a big threshold of fear and visited the orphanage that David was adopted from – called FANA. Not knowing what to expect or what the conditions might be, we were all in an emotional state. We brought a big bag of new clothes we bought in Colombia as a donation. It was the day before Christmas Eve.

While we were given a tour of the place, the information about David's biological parents and birth records were being located. We were really impressed at how the orphanage was so clean and orderly. It smelled like mom's chicken soup. The kids were outside having a party. The staff knew all of their names.

There were counselors, therapists, tutors, and hugs. We were imagining what the six weeks that two-year-old David must have lived through during his time at FANA. We were relieved because we could feel that he was well taken care of.

As we looked around we learned all about FANA. They have many programs.

They take in children up to age 10 or 12. They can be poor, or coming from an abusive family. Since abortion is illegal there, they have a program for impoverished women who are pregnant and conflicted about their pregnancies. They can live at FANA, be nourished, and once they are feeling safe they can decide whether or not they want to raise their baby or leave it at the orphanage.

While we on the tour, the woman who was looking up David's records found us.

She said there was a baby boy that was going to be presented to his new mom, dad, sisters (also from FANA) as well as many relatives. She unexpectedly asked David (since he was a kind-of FANA graduate) if he would like to be the one to give a baby boy to his new family. Honored and floored-- he agreed.

Everyone was tearing up! Here's a picture of David with the baby boy about to meet his new family:

David found out his birth parents names-- and marveled at how neat his biological father's signature was. Their statement was translated and everything they wanted for their son has come true. They said it was ok for him to live in a new country, have a new name, and have a new religion-- just as long as he was loved, cared for, and educated. Before we left, we set up a monthly donation to FANA. David said, "My cup is full."

Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part Two

Before our big hike in Tyrona Park with the Wiwa Indians, we journeyed through Christmas in Colombia. We decided to leave Bogota and venture 3 hours by car north to a Colonial hamlet called Villa De Leyva. We saw areas on the car ride that had been sites of much violence. It seemed as though we were lucky to be travelling in this area, because there had been so much bloodshed at one time that travel was out of the question. There were family owned farms-growing corn, potatoes, onions, amazing flower gardens, and livestock in the rolling green hills.

As we entered Villia De Leyva, cobblestone roads led us through a quaint collection of shops, restaurants, small boutique hotels and a town square with one of the oldest churches in all of South America. We were surrounded by blue skies and green mountains. There were no chain stores there, but you could find

anything you needed (including amazing gourmet chocolate)-- it was tiny and completely self contained.

Since Colombia is a Catholic country, we expected the whole town to shut down for the holiday. Boy, were we wrong! Many families poured into the town- just as we had on Christmas Eve. There were lights, fireworks and Christmas music was everywhere.

Having just come from experiencing the incredible gold work and earth-based culture of the Indians before the Spanish Invasion, I had mixed feelings about Christmas. It's hard to understand how long ago, people from the Catholic religion-- that is so committed to peace and loving kindness-- could have treated the native people so poorly-- stealing their gold, their land, and dominating them so that their culture has almost been erased.

We sat in on prayers on Christmas Eve and sang a few amens before the service was over. Everything was in Spanish, so I could only make out a few words of what was being said. On Christmas morning, David and I entered the church and looked around at the Nativity scene, the gold leaf and Christ on the cross. I stared at Jesus for a long time. I thought about peace and how many of my own ancestors also ran from the Catholic Church. Still though, many of my beloved friends, family, and customers are Christian, and/or Catholic. I sat in the pew and allowed my heart to feel the sadness of our separation. I prayed-to the God of all of us-- that my art and life choices would help make a positive impact on the world in terms of softening the religious lines between people.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Then I felt lighter.

Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part Three

While planning our trip, exploring the Indigenous culture in Colombia was of interest to us. Since David's ancestors are Indians (we don't know which tribe) it was fascinating to learn that they were goldsmiths-- we wanted to know more. I am also intensely interested in experiencing the Indigenous cultures of the world and finding out more of the spiritual teachings of theirs that resonate with Art for Prayer and Peace: A Bridge to Oneness-- the art installation that I am currently hard at work creating. Luckily, a dear friend of ours who spent months travelling in Colombia recommended we research 'Wiwa Tours' if we want to both support the Indians and learn from them. We decided that it would be worth the far travel to take one of their tours.

So, we booked a one-and-a-half-hour flight from Bogota to a coastal city in the north of Colombia called Santa Marta. We'd then need to make our way from there to the National Park, called Tayrona. Although 'Wiwa Tours' offered several adventure packages (including one six-day backpacking trip to the 'Lost City'), we opted for a 1 day trek to the Pueblito. Our time was limited and our 6 year old son Kaleb (and my Dad) were also joining in.

You can look on the map, below, for the 'Ruta Tour Tayrona' to see the hike we completed.

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Since language would surely be an issue, we also hired an English interpreter.

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We started the day at 5:30 a.m. when we were picked up from our hotel and taken to the Wiwa offices in Santa Marta. Once we finished paying and dealing with logistics, we were driven by car about 45 minutes to the trailhead inside the park. Hungry for breakfast, we were relieved that we were given a hardy and delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions mixed in, a kind of round corn-cake toast, a shot of really strong, really sweet coffee and some hot chocolate.

 

Although we studied the map, we weren't sure how long the hike would take and if our young son could manage it. It seemed as though it would be along day-- twelve hours at least. Also, as we finished up breakfast, it was becoming clear that our English interpreter had not arrived to meet us. Not wanting to wait around for him, we headed out on the trail.

It was about 90 degrees, and humid, but the jungle was gorgeous-- green and lush with massive breathtaking views of the hills and the ocean. Plus almost the entire hike was shady with a cool breeze. After about 45 minutes of hiking-mostly up rocky and uneven ground, Kaleb was beginning to complain, and without our interpreter-- I was starting to worry that we would not be able to learn much from our guide.

Just then a young man in his mid to late twenties arrived-- running up the hill after us-- dripping with sweat, with his wet shirt unbuttoned. Low and behold, it was our English interpreter! He explained that he was sick and fell asleep on the bus, missed his stop and had to backtrack and run to find us on the trail. Grateful that he'd finally made it to meet us, I asked for his help.

I began asking Lorenzo-- (our Indian guide) about God/Nature, worship, ritual and beliefs of some of the Wiwa and Kogi Indians that live in Tayrona-- from before the Spanish Invasion. Kaleb became fascinated with our conversation, and he, my dad and David began recounting to him their trek to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Just like that the three guys were off-- Kaleb ceased complaining!

Lorenzo -- our Guide This freed me up to really have the space in my heart and mind to begin a deeper conversation with Lorenzo (with the help of the interpreter.) The next several hours up to the Pueblito were spent with the guys mostly up ahead and me experiencing an amazing mix of strenuous exercise, extreme natural beauty and an inspiring exchange of religious traditions and ideas.

In the next BLOG post I will clearly explain what I learned from Lorenzo and what Jewish teachings I was able to share with him. It was one of the best days of my life. It reminds me again of what drives me to be an artist and brings me great peace of mind and heart.

Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part Four

We made our way through Tayrona Park, which is on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. The hike was lush and mostly uphill towards the Pueblito-- home to a small group of Kogi Indians. As we proceeded with this leg of the trip-- about 3 4 hours hike-- I began asking our Wiwa Indian guide (named Lorenzo) about some of his native religious understandings and rituals.

I asked "Do you have a word for 'the God of everything'?" I waved my arms in the air gesturing to the magnificent nature around us, and pointed to our bodies--'you and me.' He explained that--YES--there are two ways to say 'the God of everything' in his native tongue. One way--'Serankua' (pronounced Serankooaahh) refers to the masculine presence of God and the other'Sewa' (pronounced Sewahhh)-- refers to the Feminine presence of God. To make sure I had the spelling right, I had Lorenzo write the names in my sketchbook. The meaning of the word 'Sewa' reminded me of 'Shekkinah'-- Hebrew for the feminine presence of God. I also was delighted, but not surprised to hear the "Ah" sound in the two native 'names' of God. One of the concepts exemplified in the Oneness Project is the notion that the sound 'Ahhhh'-- (as the first sound chanted when saying Ohm) is prevalent when speaking a name of God over a surprisingly diverse collection of world religions. Both of his pronunciations fit this understanding. Here's an excerpt from the Oneness proposal where I visually explain this concept:

Although knowledgeable, our guide was quiet and shy. He barely said a word about our surroundings, until I asked a question. But when I asked, his responses were sometimes lengthy, warm and genuine. Recalling the Oneness Project in my mind, I was wondering how Indian spiritual wisdom could bring an even deeper truth to the existing art and ideas. As we hiked, I thought of the part of the Oneness exhibit proposal, which lays out plans for a 'Sanskrit Fire Temple and Holocaust and Genocide Memorial Space.'

Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part Five Rituals of Grief Among the Beauty

As we continued to hike, I thought of the part of the Oneness exhibit proposal, which lays out plans for a 'Sanskrit Fire Temple and Holocaust and Genocide Memorial Space.'

I asked Lorenzo if they used fire in any of their rituals. He explained that after the passing of a beloved member of the tribe, they light a fire-- not to burn the body, but to gather together as a group. The tribe would recall memories and

celebrate the life that person. They also place items of gold with the body into the grave. To the tribe, gold was valuable-- but not in a money sense, but in a holy sense. The precious metal gold was referred to as ‘the son of the sun’ and is powerful symbolically, like the sun.

He continued on about Wiwa Indian grief rituals: they bring the body to the ocean to wash and purify it from any past misgivings/sins before the burial. At that point, I remembered the Hebrew word-- Tashlich, (Hebrew: “you will cast”)- for the tradition of visiting an ocean, sea or lake full of water--on the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) and throwing pieces of bread in the water as a symbolic way of ridding ourselves from sin.

I had the interpreter's help telling Lorenzo about this tradition. Lorenzo pronounced 'Tashlich' and then remarked that he thought it was an interesting and important tradition. I asked him if any of these ritual practices that he was teaching me about were influenced by the Spanish Invasion. He said that many Indians had been forced to adopt Catholicism as their own, but the concepts we were talking about were purely of the Indian tradition. I explained that it is believed that some of my own ancestors fled Spain in order to maintain our religion. He nodded-- he understood.

We continued to hike-- sometimes taking breaks, sometimes catching up with the guys, I had time to hike and think. A short time later, I shared with him about the teaching of the mezuzah. I explained that we place a small scroll with ancient text on our doorposts as a reminder to uphold the teaching inside-- to love kindness, care for the earth, and teach future generations these values etc. ... He was really curious about the mezuzah-- saying the word out loud, and asking to see pictures. I have lots of pictures of 'mezuzahs in action' from a past blog entry where people who have mezuzot I made sent me pictures of them on their doorposts. We stopped hiking so I could use my phone to bring up the pictures. I told Lorenzo that I made these objects by hand. I showed him some of the metalwork I was wearing that David and I had created in our studio in the United States. We were making eye contact, and smiling.

I asked him if the Wiwa or Kogi Indians had any ritual objects near the entrances to their dwellings. He said they did-- and he would point it out to me when we got closer to the Pueblito.


Colombia: A Spiritual Adventure - Part Six

Final Installment-- Reaching Pueblito and Beyond

As we entered the Pueblito area Lorenzo showed me a carving of an Indian Shaman in the stone. He explained that it is traditional to greet this carving and leave a smaller stone on top— in order to ask permission to enter. I was so caught up in the moment of learning about this that I did not actually pick up a stone and do it. (Duh!)

Part of my excitement was that it reminded me of a different Jewish tradition-not the mezuzah tradition, which we spoke of earlier, but a tradition in which a stone is left at or on top of a gravesite. This is done as an acknowledgement of being there, and for sending love. Usually flowers aren’t brought to a grave, because they will die quickly, but a stone will stay for a long time. I explained this 'Jewish' tradition to Lorenzo. He smiled and said that the Indians also leave a stone at a gravesite. Predictably though, burial grounds were not an area we would be able to visit or photograph.

Before long we entered the Pueblito, which consisted of several large thatched dwellings and a central gathering point. The gathering point was mostly an open area where people could dance, and have a campfire. There was one family of Kogi Indians that we could see, who lived there. Lorenzo seemed to know them well.

We looked around, rested a bit, snacked, drank water and had a short tour of the area. We were not the only ones there. There were hikers of all ages and from all over the world passing through this place. I wouldn't say it was terribly crowded, but there would be groups of two or three, then a family of six or a whole tour of at least twelve on the trail. Lorenzo asked if I could have a picture

with the Indian family. Actually, some people who asked for a picture before me had been denied. The tribe member looked me over for what seemed like a while. Then he nodded— yes.

Finally we started on the decent out of the Pueblito over huge boulders and down to the beach. On our way, we saw amazing views of the mountains and ocean, as well as some wild life-- monkeys in the trees. Kaleb was energized on the boulders. He had the guidance and help of my Dad and David and sometimes-- me. We hiked about 20 miles (in steps) and 10 miles as the crow flies, in total that day. It was dark by the time we left Tayrona Park.

At the end of this long and fulfilling day, seven of us crammed in a hot, tiny taxi for the long drive back to the beautiful open-air lobby-- tropical-just-on-thebeach hotel in Santa Marta-- I looked at the guys and said, "Now this is what memories are made of!�

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_____________________________________________________________________________ Thank you for reading this and for all your past support of the Oneness Project.

The research done on this hike and future travels will be used in the creation of pieces for the 'Art for Prayer and Peace' upcoming exhibit, --which-- I am excited to say, is in the planning stages. (WAY more on this to come.)

If you have not already (and even if you have), please join and continue to support me by making a generous tax-deductible donation to 'Art for Prayer and Peace.' Thank you all for the privilege of doing this important work.

Thank You and I Love You!