Project

Preserving the legacy of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, Heart of the World

Rising abruptly from Colombia’s Caribbean coast, the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta reaches 5,775 meters (18,946 ft.) at its highest points, the peaks of Bolívar and Colón.  It is the highest coastal mountain system in the world, a place where indigenous knowledge and nature’s own wisdom converge.

The sheer changes in elevation create a wide variety of ecosystems within a small area, where the diversity of plant and animal life creates a unique exuberant region. The melting snows of the highest peaks form rivers and lakes, whose freshwater flows down steep slopes to the tropical sea at the base of the mountains. 

The indigenous Arhuaco, Kogi, Wiwa, and Kankuamo people protect and care for this natural treasure with an authority they have inherited from their ancestors.  According to their worldview the land is sacred and shared in divine communion between humans, animals, plants, rivers, mountains, and the spirts of their ancestors. 

Despite this ancestral inheritance, development projects proposed for the region have failed to take the opinions of these indigenous groups into consideration. The Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta is currently threatened by 251 mineral concessions, hydroelectric projects, agriculture, urban sprawl, and infrastructure projects. 

Many of these concessions were granted without the prior consultation of the indigenous communities, which represents a persistent and systematic violation of their rights.

Mining, which implies the contamination and erosion of watersheds, threatens the health of more than 30 rivers that flow out of the Sierra; these are the water sources of the departments of Magdalena, César, and La Guajira.

These threats have brought this natural paradise to the brink of no return. With it, would go the traditional lives of its indigenous inhabitants, who are dependent on the health of their land and the sacred sites it contains.

The Sierra hosts the archaeological site of la Ciudad Perdida, the Lost City, known as Teyuna, the cradle of Tayrona civilization. According to tradition, it is the source from which all nature was born—the living heart of the world. 

The four guardian cultures of the Sierra are uninterested in allowing this natural and cultural legacy to disappear.

 


Un camino seco fue lo que dejó el desvío del arroyo Bruno en la Guajira, Colombia

Coal or life: Walking where a stream once ran

The appointment was on a hot Sunday in July. Together with Wayuu indigenous and Afro-descendant communities displaced by coal mining, members of social and human rights organizations, employees of Cerrejón, and government officials, I walked for more than five hours over the barren land where the Bruno Stream once ran. What I saw in my path were the remains of snails that died of thirst, stuck to the mud, and the lifeless body of a tigrillo that showed us so clearly what mustn’t happen again. The Bruno is a vein of water that once irrigated the department of La Guajira, located in Colombia’s far north, a region hit years ago by extreme drought. It is a major tributary of the Ranchería River, one of the department’s most important water sources, and forms part of the underground water systems that have long given life to the region’s communities. It was painful to walk where the Bruno once flowed free, and to think—while doing so—that what is now a dry riverbed was once abundant with life. That Sunday, we also toured the area intended to be the artificial channel of the stream. In 2014, the National Environmental Licensing Authority authorized Cerrejón to divert 3.6 kilometers of Bruno’s flow to favor ongoing coal exploitation in La Guajira. Several things made on impact on me that day. One of them was that, although the rivers belong to us all and natural water sources are public, we were accompanied the entire time by employees of the company. While walking the stream, we entered the land “owned” by the coal-mining concessionaire. Communities that used to travel freely along the banks of the stream can no longer do so today. Although the Bruno is one of few streams in Colombia’s driest department and one of the scarce sources of fresh water for communities living there, its channel was clogged and diverted to facilitate mining. An engineering project has altered one of the most important streams for a thirsty region and created an artificial path through which not a single drop of water flows. “If they carry water, they’re rivers; if not, they’re roads,” a verse from Guatemalan indigenous poet Humberto Ak’abal teaches us. The new “channel” of the Bruno is not a river, but “a barren road” attesting to the deterioration of a sensitive ecosystem. The “road” does not recover or mitigate the damages from the stream’s diversion. On the contrary, it produces new ones. The world is facing a climate crisis, and coal mining is one of its primary causes. While many countries are replacing the use of coal in their energy matrices with cleaner options, Colombia has decided to dry up a river to exploit more and more coal. Walking paths of justice The day after the walk, the frustration of the absurd did not prevent me from embracing a glimmer of hope. On Monday, I joined representatives of indigenous communities and local organizations at a public hearing convened by several Congressmen to discuss what happened with the Bruno. The strength and dignity of their words, in which decades of resistance were encrypted, fed my soul. “This territory is ours, our rivers are our life and we care for life—for our children, for our present, for our future and that of the world.” As it has done many times before, La Guajira spoke to the country and the world. They told the Congressmen that it’s not possible to prioritize the use of water for mining over human consumption. They warned that the country must transition to an energy production that doesn’t cause the damages that coal mining has to the climate, human rights, and the species and ecosystems that sustain us. The stream must return to its channel, the snails must drink again from its waters, and no tigrillo should die due to the intentional destruction of its natural habitat. In a 2017 ruling, the Constitutional Court demonstrated that uncertainties exist as to the environmental and social impacts of the Bruno Stream riverbed modification project. The Court ordered the creation of an Inter-Institutional working group to resolve the complaints of the affected people. Communities will continue to demand compliance with that ruling and demonstrate that the uncertainties are, in fact, certain damages that will continue to undermine their lives. AIDA, along with our partner organizations, will continue to accompany this struggle to demonstrate the harms of coal mining and promote clean alternatives that respect both people and the environment.  

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