In January, I had the great fortune to accompany the Under Secretary of State to Chile and Colombia, where we held meetings with government officials, civil society leaders, and university students on a range of issues, including but not limited to open government, transitional justice, trafficking in persons, and protecting the human rights of vulnerable populations, such as LGBT and indigenous communities.
Aside from an important diplomatic mission, Chile for me was a long-awaited return to the land of my undergraduate studies. In between official meetings, I relished in the nostalgia of the avenues I walked eight years before and the coffee houses where I wrote my thesis (on the role of small businesses in the negotiation of the Chile-US free trade agreement!). My sense of association with Chileans remains strong, and it was exquisite to return as a more seasoned version of my student-self.
From Chile, a dear friend/colleague and I diverted from our official diplomatic duties and flew to Buenos Aires (on our own dime, for those who are concerned), where we drank, ate, danced, and shopped for two and a half days. BA is an artist's city, and I felt the creative energy on every corner. We flew back to Chile (to meet up with the Under Secretary) with no less than eight pieces of art between us.
The next and final stop was Colombia. After pulling an all-nighter to finish and submit one final b-school application, I joined the US delegation on a day-long excursion to the southwest of Colombia, along the boarder with Ecuador. Shocking as it may sound, nearly 90% of cocaine in the United States originates in Colombia, so the United States is working closely with the national police and Colombian military to eradicate the source: coca leaves grown by guerilla factions and drug lords in the region.
Aside from an important diplomatic mission, Chile for me was a long-awaited return to the land of my undergraduate studies. In between official meetings, I relished in the nostalgia of the avenues I walked eight years before and the coffee houses where I wrote my thesis (on the role of small businesses in the negotiation of the Chile-US free trade agreement!). My sense of association with Chileans remains strong, and it was exquisite to return as a more seasoned version of my student-self.
From Chile, a dear friend/colleague and I diverted from our official diplomatic duties and flew to Buenos Aires (on our own dime, for those who are concerned), where we drank, ate, danced, and shopped for two and a half days. BA is an artist's city, and I felt the creative energy on every corner. We flew back to Chile (to meet up with the Under Secretary) with no less than eight pieces of art between us.
The next and final stop was Colombia. After pulling an all-nighter to finish and submit one final b-school application, I joined the US delegation on a day-long excursion to the southwest of Colombia, along the boarder with Ecuador. Shocking as it may sound, nearly 90% of cocaine in the United States originates in Colombia, so the United States is working closely with the national police and Colombian military to eradicate the source: coca leaves grown by guerilla factions and drug lords in the region.
With the Under Secretary, US Ambassador and head of Colombia's police, we boarded two black hawk helicopters (recently transferred from Iraq) to watch spray planes cover the coca fields. While in the air, I commented to a former-US Air Force colleague that the planes reminded me of the crop-dusters back in South Carolina. Exactly, he said. Just like South Carolina...except instead of killing bugs, we're killing drugs. And the "farmers" here have AK-47s. I suddenly felt very grateful for the two Colombian security officers wielding machine guns in the seats in front of me.
Before returning to Bogota, we touched down in an extremely poor Afro-Colombian village where none of the children had shoes. I had to keep reminding myself that I was still in the Western Hemisphere, not across the ocean on the African continent. Not long ago, the village's elders stood up to the FARC (Colombia's main guerilla group). "We will not see our children killed by the drug trade," they told them. In a region where innocent villagers are murdered on a weekly basis, the courage of this tiny village is a powerful ray of hope in otherwise dark circumstances.
A colleague made this video of our trip: http://youtu.be/FsFkRen3uvs
Before returning to Bogota, we touched down in an extremely poor Afro-Colombian village where none of the children had shoes. I had to keep reminding myself that I was still in the Western Hemisphere, not across the ocean on the African continent. Not long ago, the village's elders stood up to the FARC (Colombia's main guerilla group). "We will not see our children killed by the drug trade," they told them. In a region where innocent villagers are murdered on a weekly basis, the courage of this tiny village is a powerful ray of hope in otherwise dark circumstances.
A colleague made this video of our trip: http://youtu.be/FsFkRen3uvs
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