In the home stretch

Well, I can´t believe we have less than a week left. The past week has been full of late nights and lots of final projects. Yesterday was my last day in Tepecoyo. It was bittersweet saying goodbye to that place, my home away from home. Typical of Tepecoyo we spent most of the day sitting in plastic chairs, sweating. You know what, unfortunatly I think it was a little more bitter than sweet. I´m having a hard time processing everything I feeling right now because I´m trying to finish classes and say goodbyes.
Oh, last weekend I went to Guatemala for the weekend. Ally and I went to Guatemala and met up with some old CISV friends and then went to Antigua for about a day. What a great place.
I´ve really got nothing else to say. I´ll be home next week. wow.

What does solidarity mean to me?

So here are some reflections of solidarity. I can´t promise they are all coherent but it´s what I have right now. They have grown and changed these past months and will surely continue to change in the next few, so take this with that in mind.

What does solidarity mean to me? This question has changed and grown so much in the past 3 months. Before coming to El Salvador I felt I had a pretty good grasp and understanding of solidarity. I understood what it meant theologically and in practice…kind of. I just went back and pulled out a theology paper from last semester where I wrote, “Solidarity with the oppressed has lead to a deeper sense of commitment to them.” While this really has not changed it certainly can not begin to encapsulate what I have experienced this semester. It wasn’t until really experiencing praxis that my conception and understanding of solidarity began to change and take the shape it holds today. I also want to be completely honest that I doubt my understanding of solidarity today will be the same as tomorrow and weeks from now.
I truly want to live a life of solidarity. As my mind is skipping ahead to this summer and next fall I am worried I will somehow not be able to fulfill this desire. Last week I was talking with my dad about this very thing. We were talking about the challenge of living a life of solidarity outside of a regular praxis experience. It is so easy to feel removed from the struggle for justice when you are not face to face with it everyday. Before coming to El Salvador I had been on immersion trips and had experiences that opened my eyes to struggles for justice and helped me feel a sense of solidarity. Last fall I had the opportunity to sing the names of the dead at the SOA protest at Ft. Benning, Georgia. As I stood on the main stage in front of thousands of people, I was not scared, like I imagined I would be. Instead, I felt a deep sense of solidarity with the people I was walking with and with the people whom I was naming. Most of the names were, “unnamed child of Bohaya-Choco, Colombia.” These nameless children will never leave me, and more than once while in El Salvador my heart has gone out to the many nameless and forgotten children I have met.
The children I have met have found a place in my heart far deeper than I ever imagined. For me solidarity is about relationship. It is so hard to really feel solidarity when you do not feel a sense of relationship with the people you are in solidarity with. My relationships with children have been my primary source of hope and rejuvenation. There is something about a child that is so vulnerable, trusting, and innocent that helps me be the same way. More than once I have felt awkward or insecure about my language abilities and the children I am around have made me feel relaxed and able to communicate. I feel like they do not care how well I can speak, but are just happy to have me around. My relationships with Salvadoran adults have been another story. Sometimes I have felt like conversations with adults have ulterior motives or they do not have the patience to really build friendships. This has been disappointing, but I am so grateful for friendships I have made with kids.
My thoughts and feelings about my week in the campo have been unfolding over the past two weeks and it has now turned into one of the most blessed times here in El Salvador. The family we stayed with was full of kids. One girl especially stole my heart—Reina Isabel. We played for hours, laughed so much, and ate way too many mangos. Her older brother Santos and I also became close friends that week. He was really the first young Salvadoran man I was able to get close to. We spent so much time together walking and talking and the whole time we were able to just be ourselves and share that together.
If I had been thrown into the campo experience three months ago I would have never had the same experience and I can now see how much I have grown since that first weekend I spent in Tepecoyo. The friendships I have made here put faces and feelings with struggles. When I go protest at the SOA next fall, assuming it is not closed down, I will there for my friends who cannot. Solidarity through praxis has put humanity back into a people who have been forgotten and dehumanized. This experience is especially true of Salvadorans, and the frightening thing is that there are forgotten and dehumanized people all over the world. From this sense of solidarity I am developing a sense of responsibility that has come from my experience here and because of my relationships; where will this responsibility lead me next?

Life in the campo!

Massacre at the Rio Sumpul










The little girl that broke my heart








Biggest cactus I've ever seen, at sunset

Roosters actually roost...in the trees!

Last week in the campo I had my heart broken by an eight year old girl named Reina Isabel. I really fell in love with the family I stayed with. There were 9 kids in the family, some in and some already out of the house, but we were able to meet all of them. The house we stayed in was constructed of Adobe, had no electricity and was also inhabited by a number of friendly critters. The bats were creepy, but to their credit I think they munched on a lot of the mosquitoes, more than us anyway. The father of the family was nearly impossible to understand. Not only did he speak with a lot of slang but he also was missing most of his teeth. Just about every morning we conversed with the father, usually about religion. The first day were got there he sat us down and asked us if we had been to confession lately. Most of our conversations turned into awkward laughter. The mother of the house spent most of time grinding corn and making tortillas. We walked everywhere. The first day we walked from Los Posos to Nueva Trinidad, which is a 1.5 hour walk, for a 20 minute meeting, and then walked back home. We also swam in the Rio Sumpul, site of one of the most brutal massacres during the war. It is told that so many were killed that the river ran red with the blood of women, men, and children. It was surreal to be swimming and playing in that sacred river. I ate about 5 mangos everyday. I love mangos. There really are just too many stories. Last week will live with me forever, and I hope I never forget the taste of ripe mango, the innocence of children at play, the feel of massa in my hands, the smell of farm animals, the feeling of sticky mango hands clasped together with mine, the feeling of exhaustion after hours of walking, the sound of Salvadoran hymns at church, the taste of ice cream when you really just need it, and more than anything a life of simple joy.

Another day in La Javia

Today Amber and I began our final project for praxis. We are creating a documentary video which will hopefully capture la realidad of life in La Javia, Tepecoyo, especially for the children we work with. It was a really powerful day of interviews. We visited who a woman who shared her story and about her son. Her son, age 24, has been missing for over a month now. She does not know whether he is dead or alive. It was almost unbearable to listen to her story as her other children sat around her and the tears dripped from her swollen eyes. At the end of the interview all she could say was "gracias, gracias a ustedes." She was just so happy that we were there and cared enough to take down her story and share in the "tristeza" sadness of her life. It was such a beautiful and heartwrenching experience.
Life her continues at a torrid pace. I have to read 2 books and write a paper this week, and I have a spanish presentation tomorrow which I haven't really started. Sometimes I forget I'm actually in school.
Romero's anniversary was this past weekend. We all participated in a great celebration and memorial march downtown. It was really energizing and reminded me of why I am here and my call to living a life of peace, justice, and solidarity. Thank you all for your continued love and support!

Honduras y más

Copan ruinas







Roatan beach at West End









Crazy ant eater friend from the jungle









chillin by the river




First I would like to apologize for the long awaited update from Honduras. Spring break was incredible. We started the week at the ruins of Copán. We toured the ruins and visited some hotsprings. We then traveled east to the island of Roatan. We stayed in a great backpackers hostel right on the beach. We snorkeled and went on a boat tour. The island is basically paradise and meets the standards of any Caribbean island you´ve ever seen in photographs. Then we went to La Ceiba on the mainland to Pico Bonito national forest. While there we stayed in an amazing jungle lodge over looking a roaring whitewater river. We went rafting, ziplining through the jungle, and played with their pet anteater. The whole trip was like a dream come true. I really love living out of my backpack, traveling, and meeting great people along the way.
This week, coming back to the reality of El Salvador, has been really hard. I feel like I left myself in Honduras and I´m just now starting to catch up to myself. The time we have here is already waning and we are all getting worried about final projects and making connections before it´s too late. I have to keep reminding myself to live in the moment and experience everything that I can. This weekend is the anniversary of Monseñor Romero´s death. We will participating in a great remembrance celebration along with thousands of Salvadorans. I really excited to be a part of this celebration. Tomorrow we are meeting with ex-ambassador to El Salvador, Robert White. This will be a unique opportunity to see into the workings of American politics in El Salvador during the civil war.
I have been horrible at keeping up correspondence; I apologize. If you would like a postcard please send me your address because I don't really have any one's here. Finally, I would like to throw a shout out to my dad who's birthday is tomorrow! ¡Feliz Cumpleaños!

Social Analysis of El Salvador

So we just got out of class with the head of Catholic Relief Services in El Salvador. I have learned so much about the greater social realities in just 2 hours. I would like to share some of these realities with all of you back home.

There are certain areas in the country that flood every year because the government will not build dikes. The funds are available from an international institution but will not be allowed because the area is predominately FMLN.

All the rivers and most of the underground water supplies in the country are contaminated.

Out of 100,000 births 174 mothers die from complications

there are 16,000 people reported with HIV/AIDS but it´s more like 32,000

40% of the country lives on less than $2 a day

Banco Cuscatlan, the biggest bank in the country doesn´t pay taxes and there are no property taxes in the country

1.5-2 million Salvadorans live in the USA and every year $3 BILLION are sent to El Salvador in remitences, which is larger than all international aid combined.

El Salvador is the second most violent country in the world next to Iraq, and the most violent peace time country in the world.

It is common for police to pick up kids who look like gang members, take them to a field, and kill them without trial.

48% of the wealth is held by 6-8 families

only 7 of 100 homicides go before a judge

Just some facts to chew on, because I sure am. wow.

Belice

The boat ride from Guatemala to Belize

After climbing through the rainforest

Munching on some tasty termites! They actually taste like carrots!

Hanging out at the cave entrance

This past weekend we traveled to Belize. The trip took about 10 hours—8 by microbus, 1 by boat on the open ocean and another bus into the jungle. We stayed in an enchanted valley in the middle of the rainforest/jungle. Feet from our cabins ran a crystal clear river which flowed from the mountain side. Hundreds of fish nipped at us as we swam around and dove off the dock. At the mouth of the river there was an enormous cave which we swam into. With headlamps we swam deep into the cave. After 20 minutes of swimming we came across a huge and powerful waterfall pouring from above. The whole trip was magical. Although, the dangers of the jungle did poke their little eyes once in a while. The first morning I walked into the bathroom to find a 5 inch scorpion climbing on the wall, and a tarantula in the hallway. Other than that it was a relaxing and much needed weekend away from San Salvador, and really the only reason we make this trip is because we need to leave the country to renew our visas/passports. And since the inception of CAFTA we have to leave the CA-4 (Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua). Lucky for us, this trade agreement means an extra long weekend in the Belizean jungle. It was so weird to be speaking English to people in Belize. The official language of Belize is English because it was once a British colony, much like Jamaica. There are only 250,000 people living in Belize with 6 different ethnicities and languages spoken. Despite its rich tourist industry the country is desperately poor due to horrendous governmental corruption. I would love to go back someday and travel more. It’s so different than El Salvador. The people are so friendly and there aren’t as many walls. I immediately noticed the lack of barbed wire which is so prevalent here in the city.

Today I took the day off from Praxis. It was my first time to miss, but it was much needed. I developed a wicked cough and sour throat in Belize and can barely speak due to my lost voice. This week is going to go so fast, and then on Friday we’re off again for spring break. Time moves faster and faster.