Se Fue

In our neighborhood, there are a lot of friendly people. Damaris was the most friendly of all. She was 8 years old, adorable, full of life. She would always yell "Jenna!" and run to give me a hug. I felt welcomed, and loved.

She told me last Saturday on the way to choir practice, "I might move to the states to be with my mom, but I don't want to go. I have my sister here, and my cousins and friends. I would rather go later, when I'm older." This Thursday, she announced she could no longer come to choir practice. "I'm going to the states, but I'll come back to visit in August." I am assuming this means she is going illegally. Which means no visits.

I saw her sister today in choir. She told me I could take Damaris' name off her choir notebook. I put it by my desk, to remember her. I feel like I have lost a friend.

I hope she arrives safely. I pray.

This is an example of the "family disintegration" that happens as a result of poverty. The parents have no choice, they have no money to feed their family. They move to the states, and leave their children with their grandparents, aunts or uncles. This makes it economically possible for everyone to live - the cost of living is significantly cheaper in El Salvador, meaning a little money from the states can go a long way.

Kevin was born in the states, but his mother didn't have enough money to take care of him. She sent him back to El Salvador, and his grandmother raised him with care. Last month, at 5 years old, they sent him on a plane by himself. His grandmother had him study photos of his mother, and practice saying her name. 

His grandmother didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. "We're going on the next plane, we'll see you soon," she said. 

Of course they can talk on the telephone, the occasional Skype conversation if they have a friend with internet. But can you imagine, never seeing your family member again?

It is a death. A necessary sacrifice.

At the end of the day, there are more opportunities in the states, a hope for a better life. The minimum wage here is $8.00 a day, although many get paid $4.00 or $5.00. The minimum wage in the states is $8.00 an hour. The education system is significantly better in the US, the kids get the opportunity to learn English and art and music.

Sometimes it feels like many people in El Salvador are just biding their time until they have enough money to move to the states, where they can begin again. 

The store near our house closed, they moved to the states. One of our favorite restaurants closed, they went to the states. I don't know what the answer is. Part of the problem is a lack of jobs and resources, part of the problem is the family wanting to all be together in the US, part of the problem is a broken dream.

I will miss my friend Damaris. I hope to see her in Houston one day, maybe we'll speak in English. I hope she will give me a big hug with a big smile, like she did every day on our cobblestone street.

Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth.

Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself.

Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here.

Hold on to life, even when it is easier letting go. 

Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you.

-Pueblo blessing

Dolor del Estomago

I have two things on my mind today - stomach problems and immigration.

Chris has had 4 bacterial infections, one of which scared the shit out of me. Haha! No really. He had a fever of 103 and was sweating all over the place. Antibiotics are magic (sometimes), and they fixed him right up.

We have to be careful what we eat – fruits and vegetables should be peeled, or cooked well. Lettuce is out of the question, at least from our small town. We drink the water in Suchitoto, but we took time to get used to it. 

Parasites are very common here. Almost everyone in El Salvador has had them at one time or another. If a foreigner gets a parasite in Central America, it is much better to get tested and treated here. From what I understand, US pharmacies do not carry many parasite medications  and you have to call the CDC to get the medication you need!

El Salvador does not have the best health care system, but they are pros at treating parasites.

When we get sick we go to a Catholic clinic called La Malta. They have mass every morning for all those waiting in line (the mass is not optional by the way, since it's happening right in front of you) and a pupuseria in the back. The most common illness is of course stomach pains. You buy your canister at the pharmacy (really it's tiny), and bring your stool sample to the laboratory. 

There is something so humanizing about being in line with other human beings holding their poop canisters. Everybody poops, we just prefer not to talk about it.

It is best to arrive at La Malta at 7:00AM. After waiting in line to pay, you wait in line to leave your stool sample. "Come back at 11:00AM," they say.

Then you get your results, but it's lunch time and the doctors don't have time to see you. "Come back at 1PM," they say. Then you wait in line after lunch to see the doctor and have your "fortune" (stool sample) read. Maybe you leave by 2:30PM, hopefully with a prescription for your parasites or bacteria.

Needless to say it's a long process, but in the end it only costs $4.00 to get your sample results and see the doctor. Worth the wait.

On Sunday Chris and I went to San Salvador and decided to treat ourselves to Pizza Hut. A couple of hours later our stomachs were turning. Was it the ice? The sausage? I guess we'll never know.

We were traveling with two large boxes with 3-ring binders for the choir at Centro Arte. Chris was turning green, so we hopped off the bus in the middle of a tiny community so he could take care of things. All the people on the road were watching him with curiosity. Poor guy.  We waited for the next bus, got on with our two large boxes and managed to make it back to Suchitoto.

I decided to teach my music classes Monday morning, and by the grace of God I did not throw up in the middle of the "buenos dias" song.

I would talk about immigration, but I'll leave that for another day. Be careful what you eat!

Los Estados

I could write about my impressions of our visit to the United States, seen through new eyes. The commercialism, the smart phone addiction, the cookie cutter houses. But I'm not going to do that. 

While I've spent 9 months in another country, my home is still my home. My country has so many problems, so many tiny tragedies... but doesn't everyone?

We are all trying to learn how to live. How to be present - how to fit in - how we might make a difference. 

I want to share about my week of abundance - and I don't mean monetary abunance. I mean richness of life! Being with family is precious, holy time. It gives you an energy that nothing else can. Sometimes I wonder how living away from my North Carolina family for so long (6 years in total) has affected our relationships. I know that I am grateful when I am with them. I hope I always feel that way.

The week before we left, two radical "terrorists" bombed the Boston Marathon. I hesitate to call them "terrorists", because I think anyone who has the gumption to kill so many people without a care is simply mentally ill. I don't mean that as an excuse. It is a sad, scary reality of the mental health problems growing in our country, and the hatred towards the wealth of America. The hatred is valid, however. I am living in El Salvador where 75,000 people died during their civil war, the majority of which was funded by the United States. Sometimes I can't believe that we live here and are so well loved. Proof that forgiveness and grace exist.

My brother lives in Boston. He was only a mile away from the where the bomb went off, studying at New England Conservatory of Music. He got home just fine, he is fine. We are lucky. Life is luck of the draw, sometimes.

My mom, dad and I flew to Boston the day after they caught the bomber. My aunt and grandmother flew in from Texas. We were so relieved that they caught Dzhokahar Tsarnaev, and that we were able to travel to Boston safely. Although grandma assured us "I'm not scared - I can take him down with one hand!" Grandma is a strong-willed, independent woman. She loves art, antiques, and among other things - opera!

We enjoyed a little shopping, good food, lots of visiting time. But mostly we were there to see my brother Mark's master's recital. He has spent the past 2 years studying opera and classical music. I can't believe how much he's learned. He has become one of those performers you can't take your eyes off of. He sang in French, German, Spanish, Italian and English, with every word memorized!

Being an adult is really fun sometimes. When I was a child, I was too busy playing. When I was a teenager, I was too busy trying to be cool. Now, I am a little less focused on myself and can really listen to other people's stories too. I am getting to know my brother, my mom, my dad, my extended family in a way I couldn't before.

Chris and I reunited in Asheville, where we spent time with his two incredibly different sets of parents and our friend Orus. We soaked up the mountain air, and laughed a lot. I am lucky to have such interesting, fun in-laws that teach me new things.

Chris' step mom Connie is very sick with cancer. She told us about how difficult it is to live with her pain. We talked about how unfair it is that she has to fight for her life in this way. We talked about some of her funny experiences in the chemo ward, how she has made friends she never would have connected with otherwise. At the end of the night, I thought about what an honor it was to have that conversation, to be part of her family. Love is a risk. But love is worth it.

As I reflect on our visit, I am feeling grateful. Grateful that my brother has had the opportunity to study music in a university. Grateful that my stepmother in law has the medication she needs to help her enjoy more life. Grateful for where and from whom I come from. Excited for what is to come.

Therapists recommend that you carry a peaceful image wherever you go. When you get anxious, when the stress gets to be too much, you can return to that place.

When I felt overwhelmed in the shoe store, or walking on the busy American street, I closed my eyes for a moment, and I saw the street where I live in Suchitoto.

I will not be here forever. But I have found my place.

"To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything."

-Thomas Merton