Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Primero Dios

We've been back from El Salvador almost 2 weeks now. It feels like so much longer. Suchitoto and Durham are like two completely different worlds, and yet they are in the same world. Proof that God is creative.

I wanted to reflect on some of the beautiful things that Salvadorans say. I have been missing the everyday salutations (saludos) such as "buenos dias" and "adios". I like that people say "adios" when passing each other, it's a great way to clearly say "I don't have time to talk right now, but I see you." In Suchitoto it is expected that people look each other in the eye as they pass. As you walk down the street, you physically feel the other person's eyes seeking yours, seeking connection. At first I didn't like that, now I miss it.

"Que le vaya bien" means something like... "may it go well". It is said only when someone is walking or driving or riding somewhere. In passing. To me, it is an acknowledgement of the sacredness of our journey. A knowing that we could fall, or crash, along the way. But with the well wishes of others, our journey is made safer.

"Buen provecho" means "enjoy your meal". It is said everytime someone enters a restaurant or home and others are eating. It's also often said at the beginning of the meal, again acknoledging the sacredness of the food and the importance of enjoying it. 

"Primero Dios" means "first God". There's really no good translation of it. I immediately think of a cute elderly woman from the campo when I hear that phrase. It's often said when someone is hoping for something, like a job or a baby or getting well. One person might say, "I hope I get well soon," and the other person might say "primero dios". There is an amazing faith in God in El Salvador, almost mystical. Beautiful. Magic. God will provide.

"Dios se lo pague" is another beautiful faith statement which means, "May God repay you". It is to say that you are very, very grateful. When I think of this statement I think of the wonderful parents from Los Angelitos that I worked with. They each had children with disabilities, working with very few economic resources. They spend much of their life energy caring for their child and fighting for their right to an education and services (of which there are few). They said "dios se lo pague" to me when I said goodbye to them, and those words remain in my heart.

"Cuesta mucho". We desperately need an English word like "cuesta". It literally means "it costs a lot", but really it is to say "it is very difficult." You can say "cuesta mucho" about expensive things, but also difficult things in life like work, raising children, or physical/emotional pain. There is a lot of acknowledging of suffering in El Salvador, that suffering is a part of life and that life is difficult. And that is okay.

"Hay que aprovechar", means "one must take advantage"/"one must make the most of it". One of the things I love about El Salvadoran culture is that they truly enjoy things. If they have the money to go to the pool, they spend all day. They bring hammocks and food. They laugh and share with each other. 

The word "aprovechar" has taken on new meaning as I am aware of the incredible blessings in my life. My car, my savings account, incredible support from family and friends. I feel guilty, but I know that guilt is not the answer. The answer is gratefulness, and living as simply as I can. Enjoying my life and the amazing people in it. Not wasting energy on feeling bad about having resources, but working so that more people might live a comfortable life without economic hardship. 

We all deserve that. To have enough food on the table. To break bread together, to say "buen provecho" surrounded by people we love. To walk together along the road, pebbled with the golden rays of a setting sun. To go our separate ways with a true hug (abrazos fuertes), saying, with a smile, "que le vaya bien." 



Friday, May 9, 2014

Felicidad

It is difficult to describe what the past two years have meant to me. How they have shaped me, confused me, changed my perspective. For two years I walked in the same five block radius, seeing the same people. My world was smaller. I couldn't run away from myself as easily. I couldn't run away from anyone, actually. 

I began to become more in touch with myself. My breath, my emotions, my aching back. I noticed it all. I began to appreciate the people around me, celebrating their hellos, finding conversation in the smallest of things. 

I am struck by how fast we can move from place to place in a car, missing everything that is happening in those 20 miles that go whurring by. The thing that has surprised me being back in the states is that I find it sad. I am sad to have left all my dear friends, but I am also sad to see with new eyes how separated we are from each other. The internet connects us, yet keeps us glued to a computer as opposed to looking each other in the eye. Our supermarkets are big and have everything we want, yet still we are wanting. There is an emptiness in this overdeveloped culture.

What I am trying to say is, I believe that Salvadorans are happier than us. They spend more time in community, with family. When someone dies, they have a vigil all night long. Hundreds of people attend. They don't want the family members to be alone

But, this is a total generalization. Happiness doesn't live in the new house, or a place, or your perfect job. Happiness is a choice. It lives deep within us, at the core of our being. It is not ecstasy, but simplicity. A deep breath in, followed by a sigh.