The elderly farmer from Puerto Rico de Chiqui, in Bolivar department, northern Colombia, raked the dying embers of a fire on which a boiling pot of beans and rice promised the only meal of the day. Children played nearby, clothes were strung across makeshift lines and mist clung to the distant mountains in what seemed like a typical scene from Colombia's rugged countryside.
Not quite. Eliseo Paredes and 200 more peasant farmers from the Bolivar department have spent the past three months squatting in the gymnasium of Bogota's National University, after fleeing rural violence. "We had a choice of waiting for the paras to kill us in our homes or coming here to demand the state resolves the issue," says Jose Luis, a spokesman for the group.
The odyssey began when right-wing paramilitaries or "paras" hired by prospecting gold companies, warned people in dozens of villages in the Bolivar district to leave their homes or "face the consequences".
In areas of guerrilla influence, paramilitaries have declared civilians "legitimate targets" killing up to 70 people at a time, from infants to the elderly.
In the Bolivar region, farmers have traditionally worked in the gold mines while maintaining subsistence food crops, but gold companies are anxious to cut a road through the peasants' lands, where a network of mule trails provides the only access to the outside world.
The villagers decided to form a commission and travel to Bogota to speak directly with people of influence. First stop was the US embassy, where a violent dawn raid by police forced them to withdraw to the nation's senate building. They got similar treatment there and finally opted for a safer refuge - a catholic church.
"The police attacked us even there with teargas and sticks," says Jose Luis, "then they dumped us outside the gates of the university."
Colombia's rural displaced number anything up to two million people, the largest internal movement of people since the second World War.
All that may change, however, after Colombia's new president Andres Pastrana signed a landmark agreement with 10,000 displaced rural peasants last month. Thousands of people have spent the last three months living in Barrancabermeja city, the centre of Colombia's troubled oil industry. The atmosphere has grown increasingly tense since paramilitaries killed 30 people there last May, prompting a series of strikes. There has been frequent sniper fire in the streets, by members of the National Liberation Army's (ELN) urban militias.
President Pastrana personally travelled to Barrancarbermeja on October 4th last, where he spent three hours discussing the crisis with hundreds of displaced families, who had threatened to join the guerrillas if they were not given safety guarantees for going home.
By the afternoon Pastrana had agreed to a far-reaching reform package:
army and police barracks would be relocated away from the civilian population
a new army search force would be created to combat paramilitary groups while "anyone in a uniform" found guilty of abusing human rights would be immediately sanctioned.
The latter guarantee may prove the hardest to enforce, as Colombia's armed forces have collaborated openly with the paras, providing training and logistical support.
In addition, president Pastrana promised millions of dollars to finance the peasants' return home, even if $55 per family is hopelessly insufficient to pay for the reconstruction of homes which were burned to the ground.
A new public commission, made up of representatives of government and non-governmental organisations will oversee the return home and report back to the president on the situation every three months.
"We'll wait and see if he (Pastrana) comes through with all his promises," says one of the displaced men in the national university, packing up for the long trek home. "If not, we'll be back," he adds.
Bogota's national university opened its doors to the ragged and destitute travellers, who received blankets and mattresses from the red cross, while students volunteered pots and pans, medical check-ups and a sympathetic ear.
"The students have shown us great respect and kindness even though they know little about our situation," says one of the men, sitting around an open fire, as students passed by, folders and books in hand.
"Sometimes you feel sick, thinking about home," says Eliseo Paredes, a community leader. "The land needs to be prepared for sowing, but here we are sitting around with our arms folded." Last week Paredes discovered that paramilitaries had entered his village and killed eight people who had opted to stay behind.
President Pastrana's high-profile deal with Barrancabermeja's displaced population needs to be repeated the length and breadth of the country, but the deepening economic crisis has limited social spending capacity.
The prospect of government dialogue with the country's guerrillas ought to inspire further hope among the displaced, but cynicism prevailed among the exiles in the national university's.
"We've seen it before, it's an opportunity for fine words but no action," says one woman. "The guerrillas and the government peace delegates don't represent the civilian population," adds another individual, dressed in a ragged t-shirt and shorts.
This batch of displaced families return home to an uncertain future, as 40 per cent of Colombia's countryside remains a battle ground between three guerrilla armies, various paramilitary groups and a large Colombian army presence, all accused of abusing the civilian population.
The long-term solution to the crisis lies in the unfolding peace process, which would reduce rural violence between state and guerrilla forces.
The dispossessed farmers will also need economic incentives to restart their lives after two generations of bloodshed.