I am asking myself this question since seeing a couple of incidents yesterday while walking around here in Bogota.Before I go on I am going to offer a full disclosure here. one of my reasons for visiting Bogota, perhaps my principal reason, is to witness this city´s advances forward since the very dark times they endured here in the eighties and nineties. And they have made remarkable progress. The city, from reports I have heard and read is greener, safer, cleaner and prides itself in being one of the most progressive capitals in Latin America. As a PTSD survivor and overcomer myself I understand very well what it is like to flourish again following a very dark and frightening time. Most of you reading this blog already know that I work in mental health as a peer support worker. I have experienced recovery and I also have the privilege of witnessing the progress towards recovery of my clients. I have worked with a number of Latin American clients, almost all of whom arrived in Canada as refugees. One is from Colombia. It would be an understatement to suggest that their lives were severely scarred by trauma from the danger and threat they had to live with every day.
I think one of the features of recovery from PTSD often involves the absolute thrill and exhileration of experiencing progress and seeing your life coming together again, especially when you are doing better than ever. But under this veneer of progress nd recuperation often lies the shadow of trauma, and sometimes there is still a sense of shame that we haven´t come as far as we expect for ourselves.
Yesterday I had a discussion with the owner of the bed and breakfat where I am staying and I pointed out to her that her lack of clarifying with me in advance some of the details of my stay could make it difficult for me to trust her. She flew off the handle, which is to say she quite lost her temper. I kept my cool, reverted to professional mode and treated her the way I sometimes have to treat some of my clients if they are having a particularly hard day. It was very effective. She cooled down and we were able to arrive at a compromise that works for both of us. Later, while I was walking through the Zona Rosa, which is kind of a high fashion party district I first saw a man punch a stranger on the sidewalk, I think for bumping into him. The other man didn´t respond and kept walking, likely the better part of valor. Then, less than five minutes later on a bus that was for some reason stalled I noticed a huge commotion. A woman with a crutch was yelling and screaming at the bus driver, struck him with her crutch but for some reason she was not kicked off the bus, I think because she refused to move. It was quite a drama.
I can only guess, but who knows what horrors many of the people I see on the street had to endure during the troubles and what nightmares they are still having to live out. If anyone reading this would be interested in forming a research team with me, or has resources available, about collective PTSD, please tell me.
And now I´m going to get out of here for a while since the sun is actually shining!
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