EL PUEBLO UNIDO, JAMAS SERA VENCIDO!

Wednesday, March 25th, 2009

I’m very intrigued and amazed as to how much I have come to love El Salvador. Before I left the United States for this journey, I had predicted that El Salvador would be my least favorite country out of the three, but if this is my least favorite, I can’t even imagine my favorite, because this is so incredible.

I’m not sure what to delve into or where to start. During the weeks, we were basically in San Salvador (the part we lived in looked like America: huge malls, fast food restaurants lining the streets, enormous hotels, etc.), going to classes, hearing lectures, and doing reading for the next day of class. It’s interesting reading, and I enjoy classes for the most part (Sister Peggy, our professor is a really interesting and complicated women, and I usually enjoy her insights and thoughts on religion, reality, poverty, and life), but it’s really the weekends, when we go to rural villages and interact with the people, the real people, that have made me fall in love with this country.

Last weekend, we went to Nueva Esperanza (New Hope), which is a community with a very complicated history. The community members were originally from the area of Chalatenango (the region where San Jose Las Flores is located as well), but during the war, they were forced to flee from their homes. Many of them ended up in the capital and lived in the basement of the church for (some of them) up to twelve years. The conditions they were living in were awful, and international organizations and church people helped them negotiate with Nicaragua to help them seek refuge in their country during the rest of the war. Nicaragua welcomed the refugees, who were mostly women and children (because the men stayed to take part in the war), in with open arms. After some time, the women, realizing the war was still continuing in their home country of El Salvador and gathering strength from the stories of the Bible, felt that they had to return to support the revolutionary forces. They fought to return, won the battle, and ended up settling this extremely well organized community that I had the great opportunity to visit.

I really think this weekend will be one of the highlights of my entire trip. I adored my family, and really wish I could have done a longer stay with them. My mom and dad were older, and they had four sons, a daughter, and several grandchildren. I just felt so welcomed by them. My dad was so warm and easy to talk with. I will never forget eating mangos on their front patio, with chicks running around squawking, cows mooing in the back yard, and their grandchildren running around pulling toy trucks, full of energy, and then seeing the huge smile on my dad’s face. It seemed as if he were truly happy, yet so much was not right in his life. I could tell he worked so hard for his family and was proud of what he’d accomplished. He told me of times during the war, and obstacles he had faced and overcome. And he loved mangos as much as I do.

My brother in my family, Daniel, was deaf. It was really interesting to meet someone in this society with a disability such as that. He has been unable to learn because school systems don’t work with deaf children, and he could only talk with a select few in his family that had taken the time to learn sign language with him. I tried my best to communicate with him, and really enjoyed the time I spent with him. He makes bracelets to sell. I bought one, and showed my group, who, in turn, wanted to buy some as well. I brought him to class the next day and helped him sell them. I think it will be one of my favorite souvenirs from my trip: an orange and cream bracelet, made with care by Daniel.

I also watched a speech by Mauricio Funes, candidate for the FMLN, with my family. I was impressed by their spirit, their excitement, and their hope for change.

The community was very well established. They had different agriculture cooperatives, such as sugar cane, cashew, and coconut plantations. They also raised cattle. There were many youth groups, for things such as dance, music, and sports. Overall, it just really gave me hope for once (ironic since their name is New Hope). Just seeing this community start literally from scratch, asking for help from outside organizations when they needed to, fighting to stand up to the government for their rights even today (due to deliberate flooding of their land because it is the most fertile in the region, and the government wants their hands on it), and succeeding to the extent that it has is really an inspiration. The people in the community continue to plan new programs and organizations to improve their living situations. It gives me hope not only for these people to continue to push for greater change in their country, but also for the entire world, in the midst of all its wars and oppression. Maybe out of all the destruction, something can be created after all. And that creation can grow into something beautiful, something which only continues to create more.



After returning to San Salvador, I went with a small group of students to climb Volcano Izalco. It was an intense hike, but one I’m definitely glad I did. It was a five hour hike in which we hiked down a mountain, up the volcano, slid down the volcano (coolest part by far), and then climbed up 1,300 stairs up the side of the mountain again. Intense and exhausting, but beautiful and well worth the time. I would definitely do it again, if not just for the sliding part. Also, since it was on Purim, I felt like being in nature and connecting with G-d in that way was a good way to celebrate so far from home or any familiar Jewish community.

Although! I did track down a Jewish community in San Salvador and attend shul the evening before to hear the reading of the megillah and celebrate among fellow Jews. It was a very interesting experience. The service was done very liberally, with stops to chat and celebrate throughout the entirety of it. The rabbi was very friendly, and I felt very welcome by the entire congregation. This was also a much more wealthy crowd than I had been introduced to by this program, and I’m pretty sure they were all firm supporters of ARENA, whereas everyone else I have come into contact with here has supported the FMLN. At the end of the service, Alfonso, a young man from the congregation, drove me home and stopped so we could buy some Manishewitz to celebrate back at the house. All in all, the service and the volcano climbing made my celebration of Purim meaningful and a success.


The weekend after, my group headed to Suchitoto, the city where Sister Peggy lives and has worked among the people. It was a pretty relaxing (and exciting!) weekend. On Saturday, we went to the community called El Citio. This is another reestablished community. Their original community was called Copapayo, and it sits in what is now the middle of a lake, but what was once part of the Rio Lempa. This community, during the armed struggle, was completely massacred. We went to the site of the first stage of the massacre, and heard a testimony from a man, who, at the time of the massacre, was nine years old. He told of the grenades that tore boats that carried people, trying to flee the scene, into pieces, of people being shot, of himself hiding behind a tree until a soldier told him and the rest of the survivors to march with them. He told us how they said they’d be kept alive and planes would come to pick them up. How then the young women were taken from the line, raped, tortured, and murdered. How the group was divided into three, so that it would be easier to slaughter them. How he was in a group with his aunt and his sister, and how he snuck to the back line. How, when the shooting started, he ran and hid among tall grass. And how afterward, he was alone.


When I hear testimonies like these, it tortures my mind. Not only because I can’t believe that humans can do these to other humans. Not only because I can’t believe stories and accounts like these happened time and time again in areas of conflict. But also because I know that they are still happening today. And they are happening today not only by people “foreign” to me, but also by people from my own country, my own home. And I am at a loss as to how I can stand up and stop it. As to how I can make a difference. And how I can fix the world.



Sunday, March 15th, 2009. Turned out to be a historic day in El Salvador’s history, and I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to witness it, to experience it, and to just be. The climax of all the street politics I’ve been seeing in my time here (one day the FMLN paints the streets, the next day ARENA comes and paints over, the next day FMLN, etc. and the skirmishes near the mall between the two parties, etc.): the FMLN and Mauricio Funes won the national elections for presidency! ARENA, after a two decade hold of power, was defeated. I guess I can’t claim to know enough to say I support the FMLN, although that’s my instinct, I can say that I do know that this country was in need of a desperate change. Is the FMLN the change the country needs? I’m not sure, but hopefully Mauricio will live up to some of his promises, and deal with issues of poverty, infrastructure, development, corruption, equality, and security in ways beneficial to all sectors of this society.

Just being with the people during the announcement of election results was incredible. The tensions were immense as we waited, but the energy was high, with screams, chants, and fireworks. So high in fact, that it gave me chills, and I really felt a presence…a presence of the people, maybe those who had been murdered, those who lost their lives for the purpose of bringing on change, maybe just the presence of the people that were right in front of me. Or maybe it was knowing that throughout the country, in hundreds of small communities, people, just like the ones I was with, but yet so different in many ways, with their own stories and own experiences of this country’s history, were huddled in front of televisions and radios to find out the news. To see if it had all been worth it. What has the cost been anyway? And have they finally gotten something in return?

Or maybe it was the presence of something higher. Something spiritual. Something I could only see through the lens and perspective of these people.

Whatever the feeling, whatever the presence, I’m certainly thankful for it.

EL PUEBLO UNIDO, JAMAS SERA VENCIDO!
(The People United, Can Never Be Defeated!)

Oh, and seeing Sister Peggy actually interacting with the people of Suchitoto (that she knew all their names, and they all knew hers) was something really special to see. That they all respected her. That she truly did make a difference in their community and in their lives, really made me respect her much more than I imagined possible. She told us stories of how during the war, she was the one who buried many people, because since she was part of the church, she technically couldn’t be harmed. She had to retrieve severed heads from the local park, and let families know of deaths. It’s hard to imagine. She is a good woman, and her heart is in the right place, despite her quirkiness and strange ideas. I think the world needs more people like her.


After the elections, was the last week in El Salvador. It basically consisted of wrapping up the class, doing our interview projects and personal final projects. My interview group went to an organization on gangs, on Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, & Transgender communities (Entre Amigos), on HIV/AIDS (Contra SIDA), and immigration (Catholic Relief Services). I’m really glad I had the chance to talk directly with these organizations on current issues that I am really interested in. It was interesting to see how all of these issues were so strongly interconnected, and made me see why to fix one of them, all of them need to be fixed, which makes it all the more difficult.

It was also interesting to see that liberation theology was not grasped by any of the organizations in their ideologies. This makes me wonder if liberation theology has exhausted itself…can it be used any longer? Or has its time of creating social change and hope for repressed groups reached its end?



I guess that pretty much concludes my time in El Salvador. I really came to love their traditional dish, the Papusa, and I wish I could have one right now as I type this. I’m sure there are other small, random details I’ll think of in the upcoming days, and maybe I’ll add them then. Or maybe I won’t.

It’s funny. I really felt like I was beginning to grasp who I was and who I wanted to be before my time in El Salvador, but now I feel a little uprooted, and I’m not sure where I’m going anymore.

I guess that’s what happens when you start asking questions.



Anyway, we then took a twelve-hour bus ride to Nicaragua, driving through Honduras along the way. It was exciting to see sights here I’ve seen before, although what I’m looking forward to seeing the most are old friends, whom I haven’t been able to get into contact with quite yet. We have begun class: History and Political Science. It’s a much more standard class schedule, and the workload is going to be rough. I hope I have time to explore everything that I want to explore, and see everything that I want to see.

It’s weird though because I feel a lot less excited to be here than I did in Guatemala and El Salvador, and this is the reason I wanted to come on this trip. I’m sure it will turn out to be incredible, like the other two countries, but we shall see.

I’m looking forward to moving in with my host family tomorrow. I’m living with Rachel, and our dad is a painter. I am looking forward to spring break. Today is my fourteen month anniversary. Such a long time, but yet no time at all. I went to the doctor today. And I’m really tired.


So I’m going to bed. Goodnight.