This post is dedicated to the mural project carried out in barrio Niquitao, Medellin, Colombia, mid-december, 2012. I wrote a story about it in my journal and it went something like this (pics below):
As was, working with the Fundacion Fraternidad became a very important project to remember forever. With our connection to Juan Gaviria to Centro Colombo Americano to Sofia then to Jaimy, we went about planning an independent mural project. Overall, it was a success, also a headache. Two meetings were held with the director of the NGO, Sofia, and her school supervisor, Jaimy. Some ideas were suggested but the feel from the start was that this under-taking was done out of favor for our affiliation with Juan (gallery director at Centro Colombo Americano, a huge cultural institute in the country). In fact, I'm not sure if Sofia would give us the go-ahead if we just showed up one day, not that we would do such a thing. Instead, she said we would do it, Jaimy would organize the kids from the neighborhood, get materials, help us with whatever needs, etc. I told her I would help pay for half of the budget and put money on the table to get the initial materials just to prep the wall and do a base coat of white paint...we were anxious to get going. Anyways, after agreeing to do it, we would not see Sofia again. Jaimy would be our point of contact, fellow painter :), and friend. It was a mess from the start though: bad prep job, chipped under-painting, somewhat wet surface to work on every morning, wrong materials obtained (Oil paint not acrylic). But we had to adapt. There was a language barrier, which made for confusion and mis-communication. There was a clear difference in wealth, clearly, we are more privileged than those living in a neighborhood plagued with poverty, drugs, starvation, prostitution and distress.. An eye-opener to say the least. But there is beauty in the faces of children, and some of the people we met were miracle workers, wonderful people, full of life and laughter (something we experienced all over the country). There was blatant drug abuse, the drug of choice, "Bazuko", or the left-over powder from cocaine production...Nasty stuff. Moms prostituting. Daughters follow suite. Dads work income if there is any goes to drugs, booze, gambling, anything but the family, overcrowded houses. Kids have it hard here. They are hardened by this life which is all they know....it's rock-bottom. This was the population in which we did our work with. The mural design was set, more or less agreed upon and the supplies were acquired so we got to work.
The 1st day was Cor and I drawing with pencil the outline on the white wall. Kids came through, maybe a dozen, helping us draw silhouettes of their bodies. It was fun, interactive, loud, messy and quite dangerous as well. The paint got everywhere on their hands, clothes, faces, shoes; my hands were literally soaked with bright red, industrial-grade, exterior, oil paint. Yikesss!! This $%&T is impossible to clean off and left my hands stained. It's not the correct paint to use for such a project, water-based paint is needed for projects with kids. Also, the fumes were getting bad. The headache would sit in after an hour of painting, we were outside but still working in close quarters. The smell of "Bazuko" smoke from pipes on the streets mixed with dangerous paint chemical exposure and fumes, mixed with too many kids not listening or following directions, mixed with Jaimy leaving us with 12+ kids in the school, trying to troubleshoot, mix paint, give kids painting tasks, supervising, Spanish not coming out good because it's hot, muggy, our minds hurt from headache and the overwhelming feeling of, " What the F%*K is going on" and trying to have fun all the while....:).....YEs, Jaimy finally comes back and the kids kind of get booted away. We cleaned up the mess ( our mess was the painting area outside, the other mess was inside the school where the boys trashed the place, played war games, soccer, broke materials, rumaged through other supplies, hurt eachother, cried, laughed, and did their best to distract us from our work) and we went to a much needed lunch....
Bandeja Paisa...big suprise. We both looked like artistic soldiers taking rations after a brutal and dirty battle. The pounding in our heads subsided yet we were on a trip. Possible side effects from 2nd hand crack pipe smoke or maybe we were just tired. Who knows? Who knows how to react to our situation, there was no order, control, authority, etc. but at the same time, the mural was starting to come together. Another half-day later, to ourselves this time, and we finished the work day. From then on, it would be the work of adults or mature-painter-helper-outers. The chaos of the days before gave way to focused and rapturous effort on our part. We almost finished on the third day. The fumes still nagging, heads still splitting. Regardless, the colors were bright and intense. We reasoned that although it's a bit dangerous for the kids and us to breath and contact the paint, the oil would stick to the wall, rain would deflect off it and it would last through a lifetime:) hopefully! Another day on the job and we all wrapped it up. The finishing touches and agonizing details which bring a painting out of mediocrity and make it a masterpiece were done.
We looked at the work with pride, heart-felt relief, as the process left us physically and emotionally drained. Jaimy probably saw this on our faces. I must reflect as such to say that it was our painting to manage from the start, an under-taking of a lifetime, which under the circumstances was perfect and beautiful, something to be enjoyed for years and years and respected by the community and the kids that helped build it...:)
