“I hate all those sons of bitches”. These are the exact words of my grandfather when asked about the Colombian resistance guerilla, more formally known as FARC. I can remember hearing these words as far back as I can remember my grandfather, yet I somehow always saw past the initial shock of the cursing to the real meaning and pain behind them. In my mind, my grandfather has always been the poster-child for my family and my country’s struggle with this terrorist organization (FARC). The story of murder, robbery, intimidation, and extortion that follows the long trail of tears and blood carved by this organization has more than once crossed my family’s backyard.
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