Colombia Classroom Builds Cultural Bridge

By Guy Arceneaux

As we pass shacks perched on stilts, no windowpanes or doors, I try to imagine a student climbing the rough-hewn stairs after a day at the nearby high school.

The road heaves our van left and right as we slowly negotiate its uneven surface. We are heading to a school in the hills outside of Quibdo, in the department of Choco, Colombia, to visit an education program called Cyber Bridges.

I'm accompanied on this visit by Jim Stipe, Catholic Relief Services staff photographer, Matthew Bristow, translator, and Rigoberto Patiño from the CRS Colombia office in Bogotá.

The Choco school was started in 2002 with funding from the U.S. Agency for International Development to answer a desperate need: Choco has the second-highest illiteracy rate in Colombia.

The school educates about 1,000 children between the ages of 14 and 18, 98 percent of whom are Afro-Colombian desplazados, displaced by armed conflict that has wracked Colombia for the last 40 years.

As we clear the top of the ridge, we see several large cinder-block buildings scattered across a sun-drenched, hilly campus. Covered concrete pathways connect the buildings, designed with open fretwork walls to take advantage of any breeze.

Groups of children are milling about outside, while others sit in their classrooms. As we climb out of the van, curious children and young adults surround us. They smile, but are shy and maintain a polite distance.

Rigoberto greets them in Spanish saying the magic words—Cyber Bridges. A young woman launches into a welcome speech delivered in English with great pride. She then asks us to follow her on a tour of the Cyber Bridges classroom.

Connecting Youth

We cross the campus, now buzzing with the news of visiting strangers. I hear voices asking "¿De dónde son?" They wonder where we're from.

Our guide leads us across the campus to a building with locked classrooms. We peer inside and see a dismaying sight—computers piled on top of each other, some gutted. Hard drives, fans and logic boards hang by loose wires. Is this the Cyber Bridges classroom?

As if reading my mind, our tour guide explains, "This is the computer repair workshop; students take classes here on how to fix PCs. Next we'll see the Cyber Bridges classroom."

She beams as the door is unlocked, students file in, computers whir to life, and monitors flicker. These kids, from a town nestled in a South American jungle, have made a jump into the 21^st century; this looks like a modern classroom. They are surfing the web, making contact with a group of students in New Haven, Connecticut. The program is in partnership with the Diocese of Hartford, and is part of an effort to connect youth from very different cultures.

The value here is the connection and understanding of what instant communication brings. Pictures are exchanged, e-mails answered, discussions begun and completed across thousands of miles and a continent away.

How do the students feel about this program? "It's special because only a select group is chosen; we have to work hard to get into this program," says one young girl. "Plus, the people we meet online are becoming our friends."

As we are leaving, the principal of the school introduces himself and tells us the program has meant a great deal to the students. He is proud the school can offer Cyber Bridges in its curriculum. "The students in this program are leaders in our school," he says as he shakes our hands.

I manage to say, "Gracias, con mucho gusto, adiós" (Thanks, with much pleasure, goodbye)—not anywhere near the words I am thinking or feeling.

We walk to the van and are accompanied by a large group of good-natured kids. They willingly go along with some requests for final photos and video shots, shouting over and over again in English, "We love Cyber Bridges!"

Guy Arceneaux is the director of graphic services for CRS. He works in the Baltimore headquarters and recently traveled with CRS to Peru and Colombia.