So this is my ever small attempt at explaining everything I learned and experienced in El Salvador. I learned a lot but Father Dean Brackley summarizes perfectly what it is that happens to us when we are part of the Casa. Disfruta/Enjoy!!!
Monday, January 2, 2012
Sunday, December 25, 2011
El Fin
Where am I?
I mean I guess the best way of answering that would be by saying I’m in this adorable little hotel in Antigua, Guatemala. It’s great being here…it’s Christmas Eve and instead of scraping snow off of the car I’m sitting outside in a garden, barefoot. But this isn’t home. This isn’t Chicago and more importantly this isn’t El Salvador, this isn’t La Javia, this isn’t Casa Romero.
It doesn’t feel like December 24th, it doesn’t feel like the infamous day – December 14th – has passed. I still feel like its August. I still feel like this is just a little break – that I’m still going back to El Salvador. But the truth is I’m not going back, at least now not. Casa is over. Everyone’s gone home. Words can’t really describe what I’m feeling right now. I know that the casa crew gets it but how can I make this make sense for everyone else – my parents, my family, my friends? I knew this was going to be tough. I know we all promised that we were going to face the challenge, that we weren’t going to just hide in our beds but right now that just seems so much easier.
I’ve been looking at a lot of pictures, I’ve been watching a lot of videos, and I’ve been listening to the infamous reflection music. I’m pretty sure I have a parasite and I have lice for what feels like the 100th time. But I just want to go back to the place that gave me these things because really El Salvador has given me so much more. El Salvador gave me a love I’ve never felt before. It gave me something to fight for with my whole heart. El Salvador showed me pain and suffering and it showed me how to get through it. El Salvador opened my eyes to another life. El Salvador gave me friends that challenged me to become stronger, friends that picked me up every time I fell down. El Salvador gave me reasons to cry and reasons to laugh like I’ve never laughed before.
This little Central American vacation I’ve been on in the past 2 weeks with my parents has been fun but it’s been a weird transition. It was hard being in El Salvador being a tourist. It was hard walking in front of Casa Romero with 2 people that don’t realize how sacred of a place it is. It was hard being at La Javia without Katie and Ella. It was hard saying goodbye on my own. It’s hard waking up every day in a hotel room, living out of a suitcase instead of waking up to a home filled with 14 other people. It’s hard not being able to cry whenever I want to.
But I guess this is the challenge we all knew was coming. Maybe it’s good that I didn’t head straight home. Maybe I can use this time for processing. Sometimes reality hits me like the giant waves of the Pacific Ocean. Sometimes it hits me and I can hop on facebook and vent to someone and make everything better and sometimes it hits me in small spaces like the airport in El Salvador and I can’t do anything else but stare out the window, trying not to explode.
It’s hard to sum up what happened in the last few weeks, days, and hours in El Salvador with everyone from the casa. I don’t know if I will ever be able to explain it to anyone else. What I realized in that time though is something very important. I don’t know if I would have made it through the past 4 months – through natural disasters, long nights of homework, and a roller coaster of emotions without the amazing students, C.C’s ,and Heidi and Grace. But now I’m faced with the harsh reality of being on my own. - Physically on my own. I know there are close to 30 other people that would slap me in the face if I ever call myself alone again. And don’t worry, if any of you are reading this, I finally get it – I’m not alone anymore.
El Salvador has been amazing and I have learned so much. I learned so much history, I learned about immigration, I learned about what it means to get married in La Javia. But más que todo…I learned about myself. I learned that there’s this strength inside of me that sometimes likes to hide but when it’s not hidden it’s capable of so much. I learned that I don’t need to hide my feelings, I don’t need to hide the truth. I learned that there are so many people that genuinely love me and care about me and are willing to walk with me every step of the way. I learned that no matter where I’m at – physically or emotionally – there is always someone to listen.
So Where am I?
I’m in a better place than I was 4 months ago. In fact I’m probably in the best place I’ve ever been. I’m in a place where I’m ready to speak up. I’m ready to spread all of the knowledge I have gained here in El Salvador. I’m ready to accept the love I have received and I’m ready to bring that love home. I’m in a place where I feel like I’ve learned to lead from the martyrs, Monseñor Romero, and Dean Brackley even though I’ve never met them. I’m in a place where I’ve learned to see myself as a strong woman from Angelica, Ana, Katy, and all of the other women in La Javia. I’m in a place where I’m not so afraid anymore. I’m in a place where I can feel my own strength. I’m in a place where I’ve realized that being angry at the world doesn’t get you as far as having hope and faith that things will get better. And although I miss El Salvador and everyone I met there more than anything else in the world, I am in a place where I am truly happy.
So there’s no doubt it’s going to be hard. I apologize in advance if I’m an emotional wreck. But I’m happy with the life I am currently living and this happiness gives me strength and right now, that is the most important thing.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
El Mozote
This weekend we headed to the North East Part of the country to Morazán to the site of the massacre of El Mozote. The massacre took place on December 11, 191. Almost 800 people were killed, 146 of them children, some as young as a few days old. There was only one survivor of the massacre, Rufina Amaya, who unfortunately died in 2007. Her daughter survives to tell her story but she too is very sick. Despite the fact that the massacre at El Mozote was the largest in Central America, many people even in El Salvador do not know about it and there is a chance that the story will soon die. Museums have been built but there is still a fear that the story will cease to be told and history will repeat itself.
The massacre occurred during El Salvador’s war. It was a brutal and carefully planned attack carried out by the Atlacatl Battalion against the campesinos who simply wanted food to eat and enough money to survive. Visiting the museums, it is hard to ignore the massive bombs on display given to the National Army by the United States Government. It is also hard to ignore that this could happen again. Many people continue to fight for their human rights and the US continues to provide aid to those often denying these rights.
Propaganda Signs in the Museum
Memorial to the Children Killed at El Mozote
Planes Used During the War
Sometimes it’s hard to sit in a room of gringos and Salvadorans as we talk of the terrible things the US has done to this country. It’s frustrating to be a part of this group of people. However, we were accompanied by some of the Salvadoran scholarship students on our trip to El Mozote and this provided a whole new perspective of the US-Salvadoran relationship. On Saturday night we had a reflection with all of the students and I realized the past has happened; I cannot change what happened during the war but I can keep the story alive, working to prevent something like the massacre at El Mozote from ever happening again. I also realized how lucky I am. We are here in El Salvador learning not only about the history but the people and the culture. We are learning what it means to love, and to have faith and hope and courage to seguir adelante, keep moving forward.
I heard that the trip to El Mozote was very sad and somber. It definitely was at times especially at we heard Rufina’s daughter tell her mom’s story in front of the memorial to all those killed or as we passed through the garden dedicated to all of the children killed during the massacre. However, our weekend trip was also incredibly fun because we got to hang out with the becarrios. So many times I felt like I was back home hanging out with all of my friends.
We played pickup soccer on a concrete basketball court with a 25 cent ball. We put mattresses on the floor and cuddled up singing songs and playing the guitar. We lay on the ground trying to count the hundreds of stars in the sky. We climbed on top of Be Real, our microbus, to get a better look at the stars only to realize it was very wet and nearly impossible to get down. And on Sunday we went to the river to swim but more importantly to jump off the rocks into the freezing cold water. We were only at the river for an hour but it was some of the most fun I’ve had in awhile.
One thing I’ve learned from this country is that it’s not easy to be happy all of the time but there is absolutely no reason to always be sad. After being here for over three months I am definitely able to feel the pain and suffering of the Salvadorans but with less than a month left I’m trying my best to live life to the fullest, having no fears, and embracing every opportunity I have.
“Todavía cantamos, todavía pedimos, todavía soñamos, todavía esperamos”
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
UCA Vigil
When we first came to El Salvador we were told about this vigil that would take place at the UCA in November. I’ve been hearing a lot about it ever since, slowly learning more and more and getting more excited to experience this day I’ve heard so much about. Well this past Saturday the day finally came and let me tell you it was an INCREDIBLE day.
On Saturday we celebrated the 22nd Anniversary of the UCA Martyrs, the 6 Jesuits and the 2 women that were killed in 1989.
The vigil is much more than just a vigil, there are two other major events that place during the day: a soccer tournament and a giant art project called an alfombra. We each had to pick if we wanted to play in the tournament or work on the alfombra; I choose the alfombra mainly because I felt like my art skills were ever so slightly better than my soccer skills. After all the soccer tournament is a huge deal and I didn’t want to be the one bad player on the team. Anywho… before I talk about my day I’ll share a little bit about the soccer tournament. Between the Casa and the Becarrios we had 4 teams, 2 of men and 2 of women. Both of our men’s teams were unfortunately eliminated after round one however our women went on to play each other in the championship!! I was able to take some breaks from the alfombra and got to cheer on our teams with the students as well as Angelica and Brianna and Lillian from my praxis site! The family decided to come down to the vigil and Katy (Angelica’s daughter) played in tournament for our team! It was really cool to be able to share this awesome experience with my praxis family, cheering on my sisters to victory in the games.
When I wasn’t watching soccer I was getting dirty…or perhaps just multicolored….working on the alfombra. An alfombra, which means carpet, is a huge work of art made on the pavement using different colored salt. We started by dividing our huge piece of concrete space into 36 sections and drawing out our design. We then mixed dyed sand with white salt in order to create the many shades of colors used in the alfombra. After we have all of the colors ready we begin placing them on the design on the concrete creating a giant piece of sand art on the ground. Different groups around campus had spots on the pavement and it was really interesting to walk around and see the other alfombras. Some of them were absolutely incredible, complete with images of Dean Brackley, Romero, and the martyrs all made entirely of salt. I’ve never made an alfombra before and I’ve definitely never made one in El Salvador with the becarrios but I think I might have found my new passion in life. It was such an intricate process and it was so cool to be able to see the work of art come together over the course of a few hours…I’m already planning on making some when I get back to SLU so if anyone would like to join me I’d appreciate the help ☺
After the alfombra was completed and the soccer tournament played we headed home to rest a little bit before heading back to the UCA for the vigil. The vigil consisted of a candle-lit procession through the campus crossing over the alfombras, passing by different alters dedicated to the martyrs, while listening to music and words from Romero’s homilies. The procession was absolutely beautiful and “very El Salvador”. Thousands of people walked holding candles down a major street, passing by Burger King and McDonalds while cars drove by without giving a second glance as to what was occurring. Things like this just happen in El Salvador and I’m starting to realize this but it’s still hard to not compare what happened at the vigil here to what would have happened if we tried to do the same thing in the US. The crowd at the vigil was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Thousands of Salvadorans and North Americans from the very young to the very old walked in unity and in peace honoring those that have died before us. The war put a lot of pressure on the faith and hope of the people of El Salvador, so many people were lost and the pain still exists today. But the people continue to fight; they fight to keep the memory alive, they fight to never forget the War, they fight to continuously move forward.
The procession eventually led into the huge parking lot of the UCA where mass was held with at least 50 priests on stage and thousands upon thousands of people standing and sitting on the concrete. The mass was primarily officiated by Fr. Andreo who delivered one of the most impressive homilies I have ever heard. This country has gone through so much suffering. In the wake of a natural disaster, the 22nd anniversary of such influential martyrs, and in a time when human rights still are not given out easily; his homily did not sugar coat anything, it was very political and very forward – exactly as it should have been. Fr. Andreo spoke of the economic inequality, the violence, and the oppression that characterizes El Salvador. He spoke of fighting for change because these things SHOULD NOT exist. We hear about liberation theology all the time but learning in a classroom is one thing. However, looking around at a crowd of people cheering on a priest as he speaks of fighting to relieve the oppression of the poor is a much better lesson in my opinion.
After the mass the vigil became a giant party that lasted until 2 am complete with delicious food, dancing, and a concert led by our very own Tómas. This day was so surreal but at the same time so naturally raw and real. So much happened it is hard to believe that this really is my life.
- At one point during the evening I had the chance to meet Jon Sobrino, one of the most influential intellectual scholars and theologians in the Liberation Theology movement. Jon Sobrino is basically of a celebrity here, but he’s not the kind of celebrity you can chase down the street screaming their name…I mean…he’s a leader in a theological movement. But despite this difference Emily and I still did a little running to catch up with him before awkwardly trying to introduce ourselves in both Spanish and English. Luckily he did have somewhere to be so we didn’t have to stare with eyes and mouths wide open for too long but before we parted he did shake our hands and imparted a few words of wisdom and congratulations upon us.
- As I already said, part of the procession consisted of walking over the alfombras that people had spent hours making earlier. This kind of thing would normally bother me, all of that hard work for nothing, but that wasn’t the case. There was something beautiful about everyone walking together, blending the colors, dragging pieces of the alfombra across the road. Claire and I decided to walk the procession barefoot. We got a few weird stares at first but slowly more and more people around us began walking with their shoes off. There was something about feeling the salt and sand on your feet that made the connection to the moment that much stronger.
- As my feet turned all of the colors of the rainbow I looked up at the sky at the stars and than across the crowd at all of the candles and I remembered something William, our vigilante (night guard but really more like a little Salvadoran Buddha) told me. “Cada luz en el cielo es una persona muerte, aunque no pueden estar con nosotros nunca más en este mundo, todavía están presente en nuestras vidas, protegiendo a nosotros, guiando a nosotros” (Every light in the sky is a dead person, even though they can no longer be with us in this world, they are still present in our lives, protecting us, guiding us). The vigil is all about celebrating and honoring those that died during the war. The reality of this hit me when I was able to look up to the sky and see more light than I have ever seen before.
- As we were getting ready to leave the vigil I bumped into someone who then screamed my name in the typical Salvadoran accent. As I turned around I saw Kenia, my campo sister standing behind me. As I gave her a huge hug I looked behind her to see Froilan and Fidalina (my campo parents) smiling and waving. I didn’t really enjoy my campo experience, I just didn’t think I had a good bond with my family, but seeing them at the vigil was very exciting. What was even more exciting though was seeing how excited they were to see me. They asked me about school, and the rain, they shared stories of their son in the US and life in Carasque and of course recommended I go eat some tamales. As I walked to the bus later after saying goodbye I couldn’t help but recognize how important my campo family is to my time here in El Salvador. I also couldn’t help but feel like I belong. The fact that I knew Salvadorans from all over the country at the vigil really showed me that I have become a part of this country.
I had an absolutely amazing time at the vigil; it was such a great opportunity to be with all of the people I love, honoring the country that I have really come to love. The Salvadorans fought a battle that was supposed to end with the Peace Accords but the reality is the fight continues on. The Vigil was a chance for like-minded people to meet and recharge so they can continue their fight toward peace and justice and I am honored to have been a part of this beautiful day.
On Saturday we celebrated the 22nd Anniversary of the UCA Martyrs, the 6 Jesuits and the 2 women that were killed in 1989.
The vigil is much more than just a vigil, there are two other major events that place during the day: a soccer tournament and a giant art project called an alfombra. We each had to pick if we wanted to play in the tournament or work on the alfombra; I choose the alfombra mainly because I felt like my art skills were ever so slightly better than my soccer skills. After all the soccer tournament is a huge deal and I didn’t want to be the one bad player on the team. Anywho… before I talk about my day I’ll share a little bit about the soccer tournament. Between the Casa and the Becarrios we had 4 teams, 2 of men and 2 of women. Both of our men’s teams were unfortunately eliminated after round one however our women went on to play each other in the championship!! I was able to take some breaks from the alfombra and got to cheer on our teams with the students as well as Angelica and Brianna and Lillian from my praxis site! The family decided to come down to the vigil and Katy (Angelica’s daughter) played in tournament for our team! It was really cool to be able to share this awesome experience with my praxis family, cheering on my sisters to victory in the games.
The fam
Champs!
When I wasn’t watching soccer I was getting dirty…or perhaps just multicolored….working on the alfombra. An alfombra, which means carpet, is a huge work of art made on the pavement using different colored salt. We started by dividing our huge piece of concrete space into 36 sections and drawing out our design. We then mixed dyed sand with white salt in order to create the many shades of colors used in the alfombra. After we have all of the colors ready we begin placing them on the design on the concrete creating a giant piece of sand art on the ground. Different groups around campus had spots on the pavement and it was really interesting to walk around and see the other alfombras. Some of them were absolutely incredible, complete with images of Dean Brackley, Romero, and the martyrs all made entirely of salt. I’ve never made an alfombra before and I’ve definitely never made one in El Salvador with the becarrios but I think I might have found my new passion in life. It was such an intricate process and it was so cool to be able to see the work of art come together over the course of a few hours…I’m already planning on making some when I get back to SLU so if anyone would like to join me I’d appreciate the help ☺
Working on our alfombra
Finished product
Really amazing alfombra
Another really beautiful one
After the alfombra was completed and the soccer tournament played we headed home to rest a little bit before heading back to the UCA for the vigil. The vigil consisted of a candle-lit procession through the campus crossing over the alfombras, passing by different alters dedicated to the martyrs, while listening to music and words from Romero’s homilies. The procession was absolutely beautiful and “very El Salvador”. Thousands of people walked holding candles down a major street, passing by Burger King and McDonalds while cars drove by without giving a second glance as to what was occurring. Things like this just happen in El Salvador and I’m starting to realize this but it’s still hard to not compare what happened at the vigil here to what would have happened if we tried to do the same thing in the US. The crowd at the vigil was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Thousands of Salvadorans and North Americans from the very young to the very old walked in unity and in peace honoring those that have died before us. The war put a lot of pressure on the faith and hope of the people of El Salvador, so many people were lost and the pain still exists today. But the people continue to fight; they fight to keep the memory alive, they fight to never forget the War, they fight to continuously move forward.
The procession eventually led into the huge parking lot of the UCA where mass was held with at least 50 priests on stage and thousands upon thousands of people standing and sitting on the concrete. The mass was primarily officiated by Fr. Andreo who delivered one of the most impressive homilies I have ever heard. This country has gone through so much suffering. In the wake of a natural disaster, the 22nd anniversary of such influential martyrs, and in a time when human rights still are not given out easily; his homily did not sugar coat anything, it was very political and very forward – exactly as it should have been. Fr. Andreo spoke of the economic inequality, the violence, and the oppression that characterizes El Salvador. He spoke of fighting for change because these things SHOULD NOT exist. We hear about liberation theology all the time but learning in a classroom is one thing. However, looking around at a crowd of people cheering on a priest as he speaks of fighting to relieve the oppression of the poor is a much better lesson in my opinion.
After the mass the vigil became a giant party that lasted until 2 am complete with delicious food, dancing, and a concert led by our very own Tómas. This day was so surreal but at the same time so naturally raw and real. So much happened it is hard to believe that this really is my life.
- At one point during the evening I had the chance to meet Jon Sobrino, one of the most influential intellectual scholars and theologians in the Liberation Theology movement. Jon Sobrino is basically of a celebrity here, but he’s not the kind of celebrity you can chase down the street screaming their name…I mean…he’s a leader in a theological movement. But despite this difference Emily and I still did a little running to catch up with him before awkwardly trying to introduce ourselves in both Spanish and English. Luckily he did have somewhere to be so we didn’t have to stare with eyes and mouths wide open for too long but before we parted he did shake our hands and imparted a few words of wisdom and congratulations upon us.
- As I already said, part of the procession consisted of walking over the alfombras that people had spent hours making earlier. This kind of thing would normally bother me, all of that hard work for nothing, but that wasn’t the case. There was something beautiful about everyone walking together, blending the colors, dragging pieces of the alfombra across the road. Claire and I decided to walk the procession barefoot. We got a few weird stares at first but slowly more and more people around us began walking with their shoes off. There was something about feeling the salt and sand on your feet that made the connection to the moment that much stronger.
- As my feet turned all of the colors of the rainbow I looked up at the sky at the stars and than across the crowd at all of the candles and I remembered something William, our vigilante (night guard but really more like a little Salvadoran Buddha) told me. “Cada luz en el cielo es una persona muerte, aunque no pueden estar con nosotros nunca más en este mundo, todavía están presente en nuestras vidas, protegiendo a nosotros, guiando a nosotros” (Every light in the sky is a dead person, even though they can no longer be with us in this world, they are still present in our lives, protecting us, guiding us). The vigil is all about celebrating and honoring those that died during the war. The reality of this hit me when I was able to look up to the sky and see more light than I have ever seen before.
- As we were getting ready to leave the vigil I bumped into someone who then screamed my name in the typical Salvadoran accent. As I turned around I saw Kenia, my campo sister standing behind me. As I gave her a huge hug I looked behind her to see Froilan and Fidalina (my campo parents) smiling and waving. I didn’t really enjoy my campo experience, I just didn’t think I had a good bond with my family, but seeing them at the vigil was very exciting. What was even more exciting though was seeing how excited they were to see me. They asked me about school, and the rain, they shared stories of their son in the US and life in Carasque and of course recommended I go eat some tamales. As I walked to the bus later after saying goodbye I couldn’t help but recognize how important my campo family is to my time here in El Salvador. I also couldn’t help but feel like I belong. The fact that I knew Salvadorans from all over the country at the vigil really showed me that I have become a part of this country.
I had an absolutely amazing time at the vigil; it was such a great opportunity to be with all of the people I love, honoring the country that I have really come to love. The Salvadorans fought a battle that was supposed to end with the Peace Accords but the reality is the fight continues on. The Vigil was a chance for like-minded people to meet and recharge so they can continue their fight toward peace and justice and I am honored to have been a part of this beautiful day.
A small portion of all of the people taking part in the procession
Tómas!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Is this still real life?
A week short of being in El Salvador for 3 months and I still find myself asking myself this question. Life here never stops and sometimes it’s hard to believe that what’s happening is real. We have been so busy ever since the rain stopped and for this reason I haven’t posted a blog in a very very long time. A lot has happened since I last wrote, a lot of things that I can’t even think of right now because they feel like they happened so long ago.
I also won’t bore you with every minute detail and instead will focus on a few major events.
#1 I guess the first big thing I’ve done recently is travel to Nicaragua for a week. It was a much-needed break but it was also very weird to have free time. I think I’ve forgotten how to do things at my own pace and on my own schedule. By the end of vacation I had definitely figured it out though. I spent the week hanging out with some awesome Jesuit Volunteers, swimming in a lake over a volcano crater, and stumbling upon a deserted beach in a quiet town one afternoon. My vacation was very laid back but it was also definitely an adventure. Crossing the Nicaraguan and Honduran borders (once in a bicycle), eating street food (you know the kind they always tell us not to eat), and taking many many many busses were just a few of the many things I did where I often found myself thinking, is this really happening? I must admit though I am thoroughly impressed with my ability to actually travel through a country that speaks a language that is not my own. If I could have one wish in the world it would be to be fluent in Spanish (this probably isn’t my biggest wish but I think you get the point). I’m not there yet but I’m working on it and I think my week in Nicaragua was definitely proof that I can hold my own in a conversation. I can ask for directions, I can order food, I can make friends…all in Spanish. I’ve been thinking a lot here how cool it is that there is now a whole new group of people I can communicate with, befriend, an learn from.
Laguna de Apoyo - lake in a volcano crater!
Part of our hostel
Beautiful sunset
One of the many old churches in León
Pacific Ocean
Drive home
#2 I finally was able to make it to the Cathedral and Monseñor Romero’s crypt in the city. It’s bothered me a lot that I hadn’t had the chance to visit the body of the man that continues to define this country and these amazing people. We went on a Sunday morning so there were obviously a ton of people attending the multiple masses, visiting the crypt, receiving confirmation, and selling crosses and shirts with the face of Romero outside. The mass we attended was celebrating the human rights movement that has been occurring in El Salvador for the past few years. To me faith and religion have always been funny things. Back home in the US it has always seemed so forced, so routine, so standard. Here though faith is something different. Faith is what keeps people going. Faith is all people have to live by. “Primero Dios” (God willing) and “Gracias a Dios” (Thanks be to God) are two of the most common phrases used here. God fills the lives of so many people here at every moment of every day in a way that is absolutely beautiful. It’s not forced, the people simply choose to devote their lives to this power and put full trust in him. So many people come not to stand before Romero but beside him. Romero lived his life WITH the people. He was archbishop but he did not see himself as better. “And he will rise up with the people”. These words describe perfectly the faith that exists in El Salvador. The devotion the Salvadorans have is not over the top, it is not individualist; it is raw, natural, communal. Being able to go to mass at the Cathedral was an amazing experience. I was surrounded by so many people who just wanted to shake our hands and give us their blessings. I felt like I belonged in El Salvador. I felt like I knew what it means to be a Salvadoran. I felt the struggles of the past and I felt the hope for the future. After our visit to the Cathedral we headed over to a big park in the city where there is a monument dedicated to all those killed or disappeared during the war. As I’m sure I’ve said before, talk of the war is very common here; it is still very relevant and everyone we have met has a personal story of their experience during the war. The monument very much resembles something you would see in Washington D.C. A giant wall with name after name carved into the black stone. What was different about this monument though was that I knew names on the wall, not just Oscar Romero and Rutillo Grande but the names of the parents, the brothers and sisters of people I have met. I’ve been to some of the massacre sites listed on the wall. They aren’t just names anymore, they are people. In a way I was upset that I hadn’t visited these sites sooner but I think they mean so much more now that I’ve spent so much time in El Salvador and really understand what this country is all about.
Romero's tomb
The Cathedral
War Monument
"The people should not fear the government, the government should fear the people"
#3 – The last update I have is probably the most important. It is about praxis and the current situation at La Javia. These past few weeks at praxis have been absolutely amazing. Between the rain and vacation we’ve lost a lot of time. Katie, Ella, and I have an infinite desire to be at La Javia and Angelica and Ana have graciously offered us their hammocks to live in for the rest of our lives (an offer that is really hard to pass up). We’ve been trying really hard to embrace every moment and every day at praxis. November 2nd was an especially amazing day. On November 2nd the entire country celebrated Dia de los Difuntos or All Souls Day. On this day everyone goes to the cemetery in order to put flowers on the graves of their loved ones. It’s really important to realize though that cemeteries are very different here and the idea of putting flowers on a grave is much than placing a bouquet on a stone. Cemeteries in El Salvador are very colorful and very crowded. Crosses of blue, red, and purple stand on top of each other, filling up every space possible. The cemeteries are already very colorful but on Dia de los Dinfuntos they become even more colorful and decorated. People come from all over bringing handmade paper flowers and decorations that they then drape over the grave. Dia de los Disfuntos is not a sad day; it’s a day for celebrating life, spending time with family, and eating papusas and ice cream in the street. The La Javia and Zacamil crew as well as 2 other students from my program had the opportunity to hop in the back of a pickup with all of Angelica’s family and head to the cemetery to visit the graves of Angelica’s mother and grandmother. At first we felt a little uncomfortable intruding on such an important family moment but of course Angelica had to remind us, “now you are family too.” I love Angelica and her family so much and being able to take part in such an important tradition with them was such an incredible experience.
Despite the great days I’ve been having at praxis the reality is La Javia and Tepecoyo are still struggling after the rain. The road we take to praxis is still in pretty bad shape. The concrete bridge that we used to take everyday is still floating in the river below and the roads are still filled with trees and dirt from the mud slides. For awhile an electrical line was floating in the river but that has now been fixed; however, that is the only solid change I have witnessed in terms of clean up and restoration. The comedor had to be shut down for awhile because there was no water but now the water comes back every few days for a couple of hours so Angelica is able to collect water in bins to use to cook food for the comedor. After a meeting with many of the moms’ of the community Angelica decided she would try to run the comedor through the end of November. The kids in Tepecoyo are almost done with school and typically the comedor stops when they stop school but due to lost time Angelica is hoping to continue providing meals to the community. It is apparent that many of the people in the community lost weight during the rain because they were not eating and they are still fighting to get healthy again. This is a bit difficult though when the water the people are drinking is not clean. Overall the situation in La Javia has improved, mainly because the sun has been shining and rivers aren’t flowing through the community anymore but there is still a lot of work to be done.
I really would just like to say thank you all for all of the monetary as well as emotional support you have given me in these past few weeks. I know for certain that I would have had a very hard time making it through these past few weeks if it were not for all of the love from back home. I can also speak for Angelica and say that donations being made have been very helpful. Kids are once again eating in the comedor and this is all Angelica wants in the world, to serve others and provide for her community. Thank you again and again if you have any questions don’t hesitate to contact me.
So that’s my life in a nutshell. There’s been so many other things going on and there is no way I can possibly write about them all but I will do my best to keep providing updates as frequently as I can.
Love Lindsey
Friday, October 21, 2011
A small update
First and foremost I would like to thank you all for the incredible response I have received so far. Your words, your donations, everything has been absolutely incredible. I don't think I'd be able to keep pushing through all of this if it were not for all of your support.
Here are a few updates on the situation:
-It's not raining. It has not been raining for 24 hours. This is huge. The sun is out and we're hoping it stays out so it can begin drying everything up.
- Last night I went to a nearby community called San Ramon. San Ramon is much more urban than Tepecoyo but it has been suffering just as much. I was able to bring food along with my program director and one of my CC's to a mechanic shop where 28 people are seeking refuge. There were older men and women as well as young children, one of which just had surgery yesterday. It was hard seeing these people living in a mechanic shop, a very far from clean location, with very little food and 5 mattresses to share between everyone. But they were still smiling. They are together and for now they are safe. They all hugged me and kissed thanking me for remembering the forgotten. It was a really great experience and it got even better when we took the leftover food and began walking through the streets giving food to the hungry. Kids came running from their houses, looking at me with their big eyes, holding their plate up to the large bowl of rice and beans. Even though we were already late to our own dinner back home we stayed. We stayed until every grain of rice, every bean had been distributed. It was a really moving experience, to bring a little bit of joy to the dark streets of San Ramon. This experience also showed me that even though the rain has stopped we need to keep fighting. There are still so many people without food and if the government hasn't helped them now I'm not sure they ever will.
- Finally, tomorrow Katie, Ella, Marie, Nate, and I are going to try to go to Tepecoyo. The roads seem passable but we won't really know until we begin the journey. I'm leaving for Nicaragua on Sunday for a week and to be able to see Angelica before I leave would make me incredibly incredibly happy. We don't really know what we're going to see. Angelica has warned us that it is ugly, dirty, and smelly. But we're ready. We just want to see the people we love. Keep your fingers crossed. Keep praying. And keep donating.
Again if you have any questions or are interested in donating please email me at lweston@slu.edu
Thursday, October 20, 2011
El Salvador needs you!
Wednesday October 19, 2011
The rain keeps falling. The tears are too. For more than a week now, there hasn’t been a dry moment. The ones we have come to love after living with them for the past two months are telling us, “We are hungry, we are cold, we are wet, we are tired, we have run out of water and are boiling the rain to survive.”
But we cannot join them. Our communities are out of reach, if not physically, “programmatically” (a term frequently used to justify the limits and rules of the Casa program). A major bridge collapsed this weekend, cutting off access to the western provinces from San Salvador. Tepecoyo, the home of my praxis site is on the other side of this bridge.
If you have read my blog before, heard me talk, or seen my pictures I am sure you are familiar with Angelica, the coordinator of my praxis site, and her family. Angelica lives in a small tin-roofed, stone-walled house in a region called Tepecoyo with her husband, her father, her daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter, son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. Angelica is an amazing woman; she inspires me each and every day to make something of myself, to be a better person for the world. Angelica runs a comedor (community kitchen) out of her home for many of the children in the community. Without Angelica many of these children would be hungry and they would not be getting the proper nutrition to succeed in school or to grow into healthy adults. It has always seemed that nothing can stop Angelica. Despite setbacks and hardships she has always fought to move forward. In recent days though something has come that even Angelica cannot defeat. The rain has put Angelica in a very bad place. Angelica and her family have been without food, water, electricity, and dry clothes for several days. They are hungry, cold, wet, and sick. They cannot leave their rain filled house. Aid has not yet reached the area. The roads are filled with debris from mudslides. Angelica, the woman who will never accept defeat, has admitted that she is not okay. Conditions are bad. Angelica has no solution. I have spent the past three days crying on the phone with Angelica, hoping and praying for the rain to stop.
The situation here is not good. We are in a State of Emergency. We have entered into the highest level of disaster relief. More than 1,250mm (over 4 feet) of rain have accumulated in the past week. The earth has been totally saturated, leaving every drop as runoff. The news resembles Katrina-era New Orleans: men wading through chest-high waters, hundreds waiting in lines in the wind and the rain for a food and water, the shelters shutting down from lack of funding and thousands pouring into the national football stadium. The death toll yesterday was 36 people. Twenty-two roads and highways were washed out or collapsed. The borders with Guatemala were destroyed. Over thirty thousand people have been displaced. They need food, water, hygiene products, sheet plastic. Here, we are trying to do the most we can, but there feels like there is so much more we could do. We are bringing food and dry clothes and blankets to those who need it in the communities nearby, but there is so much need. Over 30,000 people have been evacuated, more than two thirds now seeking refuge in makeshift shelters.
Yesterday, at noon on Tuesday, the sun broke through the clouds; I saw blue skies, the mountains in the distance, people emerging from their homes for the first time in what seems like forever. Finalmente, finally, I said and heard in the hearts of those surrounding me. But now it is Wednesday and the rain has come back, falling harder than it was before. We were not able to go to praxis on Monday. I thought today would be different, but that is not the case. I woke up this morning to the pounding of rain on my roof; I got dressed, ate some breakfast, and headed out to the van that we typically take to Angelica’s. But as soon as I got in the car I looked at Julio, our driver. I saw the fear in his eyes, the tears this grown man was fighting to hold back. “It’s not safe”, he said, “there are too many risks.” I calmly got out of the van; for once I did not break down. I knew this was going to happen the moment I woke up this morning; it’s becoming very difficult to maintain the hope, the faith that I once had.
Along with the state of emergency on Sunday, the Casa de la Solidaridad, the UCA (my current school), and the country as a whole suffered even more. Father Dean Brackleythe Jesuit from Fordham University who came to El Salvador over twenty years ago to help fill the responsibilities left behind by the six martyred Jesuits, both academically and spiritually—passed away after a courageous battle with cancer. As a dear friend, Lupita, told me his life was a lemon that he squeezed until there was nothing left, and when it seemed like there couldn’t possibly be more to give, he gave zest. Some of us students have just returned from the funeral of a man we have never known. But now I feel like I was a good friend of Father Dean. Father Brackley started the Casa; without him I would not be here. I would never have met the amazing people that I now rely on for so much love and support. As I sat, surrounded by Salvadorans in a crowded room, listening to a recorded message from Father Dean I couldn’t help but cry once again. This time though they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy, of gratitude, for the life I have given. Father Dean devoted his whole life to the poor of El Salvador, the people who have been ignored by most for their whole lives. I am here for a reason. I am here to carry on the mission of Father Dean.
I have been so frustrated these past few days. I have so much anger. So much sadness. I am having a hard time accepting a lot of thing. But I have been trying to make the most out of these emotions. I have been organizing with a few of my friends to raise awareness, create a plan, and raise funds to help El Salvador get back on its feet. But this organization and action is also scaring me. I have found myself doing (or at least trying to do) what I want to do with the rest of my life. It’s not easy. It’s wearing me down. But were trying, moving forward poco a poco. We have been able to bring together all of the students to discuss the current situation. We have organized one vigil and plan on organizing more in order to bring everyone together, to share what is on our minds. Most importantly though, since I began writing this blog yesterday morning we have been able to reach Angelica. I was not able to make the trip, something that is still eating away at my heart, but Maria and Ella were able to. They were able to bring rice, beans, oil, and warm clothes to Angelica and her family. We have been fighting for this since we found out that Angelica had nothing. We’ve been very persistent, perhaps a little too persistent. But if that’s what it takes I am willing to fight all day and all night to do what I think is right. I’m trying my hardest to live out the mission of Father Dean Brackley.
All of this being said, I would like to ask your help. Little international help or attention is coming in. There is an immeasurable amount of work to be done. I ask for your support. Love, thoughts, prayers if that is all you can provide. But if you, or your place of work or study can give financially, it would be so greatly appreciated. Donations can be made via Voices on the Border ON BEHALF OF ANADES (a Salvadoran NGO working with the most affected communities and trusted by the Casa de la Solidaridad.)The organizations website is http://www.votb.org/ and there is a button that says DONATE NOW.
Sending money directly to El Salvador is very difficult but if you would prefer to send directly to me, we can work with my mom by putting money in my bank account that I can withdraw here. I do not like asking for money but I’m realizing that the people here need our help.
I have one other favour to ask as well. I don’t know how many people are reading my blog or how many people this will reach but if anyone who reads this can take what I have said and pass it on to anyone else they know that might be interested in helping I would also greatly appreciate that.
If you have any questions about donations, the situation in El Salvador, or anything else feel free to email me (lweston@slu.edu) or send me a message on facebook. We don’t have a lot of time right now; there are a million and one other things I would rather be doing than sitting on a computer but I will be doing my best to stay in touch with everyone back home.
With love from El Salvador,
Lindsey
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