Alguien Sabe de mi Dolor

Each of us carries our pain and our past. We need to tell our story. Once we have told our story, the story is shared. We are no longer alone.

I have heard a lot of stories lately. They are stories of unimaginable loss. Of torture, and of hope. It is hard for me to understand why some of us must suffer so much and others so little. But we all suffer. We must continue the journey, carrying our burdens with us.

Chris and I went to the University of Central America to a vigil for the Jesuit priests who were killed at the university during the war. From what I understand, they were killed because they were too progressive. In the El Salvadoran Civil War, wisdom and the pulpit were a dangerous combination. Many nuns and preists were killed, including the Archbishop Oscar Romero.

This vigil has gone on for 23 years. The people do not want to forget what has gone before. 

We lit candles and walked together, thousands in the streets. There was a station to stop and remember each person who had died, including employees who helped care for the priests. Afterwards we celebrated a long mass, with television screens so the crowd could see. There were pupusarias and places to buy revolutionary t-shirts, but they remained closed throughout the mass. 

At the time I just wanted to move on,1 hour is a long sermon, what is he talking about? Looking back, it was truly beautiful that time stopped for those couple of hours, and that so many people stayed out in the cold to worship together.

Then we learned about the free food. Bread, tamales, and coffee. We enjoyed a delicious dinner at 10:30PM. Salvadorans often drink coffee at night. I'm not sure how that works, but they say it doesn't affect them. Years of working with the coffee beans? I don't know.

There was a concert afterwards, with female drummers, a salsa band, an indie band. Beautiful art made of colored salt. Joy in the midst of grief.

In the museum at the university, the Jesuits clothes are held in glass cases for everyone to see the bullet holes and blood stains. It was in the morning when they were killed. They were wearing bath robes. There is something so human about that.

Sister Peggy is a nun who has lived in El Salvador for over 30 years. She is the director at Centro Arte para la Paz. Everyone loves her charisma and energy, she is quite famous in Suchitoto and around the country. She chose to move to El Salvador during the war. Can you imagine? She says it was because they had a classical radio station. A ray of hope?

She told us a powerful story about a woman who lost 5 of her sons during the war. One of her sons was beheaded by El Salvadoran soldiers. She was the one to tell her friend the news, that her son had died and that was all that was left of him. It was a painful memory for everyone.

Later that month Peggy was telling the story of a painting she had brought back from the states, of Mary and Elizabeth. They ended up talking about John the Baptist, and someone asked how John died.

She didn't want to tell the story. She knew her friend was there, the friend who had just lost her son. The women begged Peggy, "we want to know the story, tell us the story". So Peggy told the story, of how John the Baptist was persecuted and beheaded. 

Tears began streaming down her friends face, along with a little smile. She began to laugh and cry at the same time, yelling and dancing. "Somebody knows my pain! Somebody knows my pain!"

So may it be for each of us, that someone knows our pain. That we might walk together on the journey.

I cannot make sense of any war, much less a Civil War in which the United States of America gave over 6 billion dollars to the El Salvadoran government. What I can make sense of is the strength and determination of Salvadorans to build a better life. To move forward with scars, grace, and laughter.

As one of my favorite songs about El Salvador, "Sombrero Azul" says:

En que venga la alegria,
a lavar el sufrimiento

And then the joy comes, to wash away the suffering.

Through Romero, God passed through El Salvador.

(notice the beautiful elderly woman behind Elba)

(Noel's candle holder is on fire in this picture. Too funny!)

Espeluznante

Last night, Chris and I were watching a movie on our little computer. It was almost 11, a very late bedtime for Suchitoto. We turned the movie off, and Chris was headed to the bathroom when he exclaimed "WHOA" and smacked something with my flip-flop.

A big scorpion had fallen from the beam of our ceiling onto the floor, right in front of him.

We have recently learned that scorpions are very common here. Almost everyone in El Salvador has had a sting or two. If you do get stung, your tongue may go numb, and other parts of your body. You may feel intense pain at the sting site. 

In order to avoid the wrath of the scorpion, we have to check the bed every night. If we leave clothes out to wear the next day we have to check those too.

There are many great things about living here in Suchi, but I will admit our lives are not nearly as clean and tidy as they used to be. 

Ants are...everywhere. When we first moved here I would get at least 10 ant bites a day. Our door is not well sealed at all, so we currently have a little colony of ants living in our room. 

Let me just say that I hate ants. I think my skin is overly sensitive to their bites. The itch is intense!

And then there are the spiders, worms, bats, mosquitoes carrying dengue. Our kitchen and living space are outdoors. We have seen it all.

One of my favorite things to do is watch the geckos on our wall. They sit so patiently waiting for just the right moment to pounce on their prey. The ones by the light bulb always get the best dinners.

Sometimes in the night I hear a loud noise coming from our roof. The rats again! They are always chasing something it seems.

Our room is a small, dark space with a lot of cobwebs and dirt. We need to borrow a ladder and clean the ceiling, that is true. But with time we have come to peace with the dirty walls and bugs. Except when they bite me, and then I want to go back to my air conditioned room with an indoor kitchen.

We have a view of the lake at our house, which is really beautiful. It is like living in a jungle. Sometimes, you can't see the water because it is covered with ninfa. The green plant fills the lake and sometimes makes it impossible for any ferries to pass. 

No one said life was going to be easy, or without bug bites. 

(note: this is an ant carrying dog food. they love the stuff far more than our dog does.)

Turista

Tourists. What a funny part of our human experience.

I will admit that, when I see a tourist here with the tacky Hawaiian shirt, the giant camera, and socks up to their knees, I feel a little embarrassed. This is my culture, these are my people, and they're so awkward! I guess that means I'm awkward too.

But how beautiful to make a journey, to have the desire to learn about another culture and part of the world. El Salvador can be a dangerous place. The long civil war, the continued gang violence, petty theft. Yet people still come to learn. 

When I lived in Western North Carolina, it was always the Floridians. "Oh, those Floridians". They drove so slow through the Blue Ridge Parkway, and I had no way to pass them. But how beautiful that they wanted to see and know the mountains.

We are all tourists, even in our own hometown. Places change, new roads are built, buildings restored, gardens grown. There are always new things to see. The places we know best shine even brighter if we open our eyes.

We have a new volunteer and friend at the arts center, named Shannon. She and I were laughing that we're probably making a much bigger difference buying food and clothes here than volunteering. We are permanent tourists in Suchitoto (and that's the best kind of tourist there is)!

Chris and I went to the Ruta de Las Flores in Western El Salvador with our friends Sara and Konstantin. They are so easy to be with, like your favorite pair of shoes. Comfy to put on, fun to walk with. Haha!

I was surprised to learn that there are parts of El Salvador that are actually cold! And by cold, I mean in the 50's at night and 70's during the day. It felt like we got a little taste of fall.

The Ruta de las Flores is a row of 5 different towns in the mountains/hills. We spent the night in Apaneca, where Sara's parents live. We enjoyed a walk to a beautiful lagoon, a drive through coffee farms (including one owned by Starbucks - it's true, I saw the sign), and a fun afternoon in Ataco. 

We spent time with Sara's artistic mother and father, who are both painters. Her father is also a gastroenterologist and plays the saxophone. When he plays the saxophone, their dog Yogi also sings along. Sara helped me with some yoga poses while Konstantin taught Chris kung fu. In El Salvador.

Every time I have the opportunity to know a new place and new people, I feel the world in the mind expand. I am filled with even more wonder.

"Awaken your spirit to adventure, 

hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,

For your soul senses to world that awaits you."

-John O'Donohue