Honduras, Birthdays and... Iguana Soup?

Hola friends!  I hope you had a blessed week and that this post finds you happy and healthy.  

In my last post I mentioned I would be traveling to San Salvador to partake in the Monsenor Romero commemoration (which sounds peaceful, but is actually a gigantic, all-day, all-night epic frenzy), but I decided to skip it this time.  Considering I would have to take several buses all day just to get there, and then probably get stuck in traffic for another half a day, and not having a place to stay, I decided to park my butt in Santa Marta and commemorate from there.  It was quiet and peaceful, and we watched a movie about him outside in the plaza before it started raining.  This all turned out for the best, because the next day I was able to go to Honduras!  Again, this was an all-day ride (this time standing up in the back of a truck) and I was exhausted by the end of it, but it gave me three interesting experiences.  On the ride there, I experienced my first official police shake-down.  Coming from America, where cops usually just tote holstered handguns, I am still unused to and unnerved by policemen here carrying fully automatic machine guns, shotguns, and any other intimidating weapon short of a samurai sword.  The men I was traveling with had to line up on the side of the road and lift up there shirts, while another policeman/soldier searched through the bags of the women.  The policemen/soldiers were actually quite nice about it...as nice as you can be while holding a loaded M-16.  But soon we were on our way and were not stopped by scary policemen again.

El Salvador on the left, Honduras on the right

We landed in a small town across the Honduran border, where, during the war, 7,000 Salvadorians made camp for a year before finally moved to Mesa Grande (ultimately over 11,000 refugees would live here for years).  You may not be able to tell from the picture, but let me tell you - this place is really small.  I can’t imagine 300 people living here in tents, let alone 7,000.  Oh, and the water from the river was contaminated, so they had nothing to drink.  

This valley contained the camp

Then I saw the president of Honduras but I was waaaaaaay too claustrophobic to listen to what he was saying.  I was concentrating on not going mental, because the plaza was so packed that at least 8 people were touching me the whole time.  Of course this political rally was held in the afternoon when it was 200 degrees in the shade.... But I digress.

Tuesday was my birthday and it was one I will never forget.  First of all, I ate IGUANA. Secondly, I didn’t die from salmonella poisoning from eating IGUANA, so that’s a pretty good birthday right there.  That night the family threw a birthday party for me which included birthday wishes, cake, smearing my face with cake, and Tito the agronomist (I have no idea why he was there, but I rolled with it...).  

I'm pretty sure we're looking at two legs and a tail... but it's hard to tell

The family and Tito

Unfortunately, the women’s organization has had nothing for me to work on so I may make my way back to the green houses.  I miss working outside in the dirt - so much as to brave the rumors.  We’ll see what happens.  Please pray that I will be given some direction and that I can be of more use here.  I have too much time on my hands.  Plus I’m running out of books...

Hola amigos! I hope this post finds you healthy and well.  These past few weeks has been both personally devastating and surprising uplifting - an emotional roller coaster that I’m still recovering from.  First of all, my Mom was here and she couldn’t have come at a better time.  I needed her emotional support and her positive enthusiasm this week.  Last Thursday night I was informed by Juana that there was a nasty rumor about me involving one of the muchachos at the green houses.  Fortunately for me, I didn’t know most of the words she told me, but I understood ‘prostituta’ and ‘cinco dolares.’  Apparently, I’m desperately hard up for money.  I was of course upset that such vile things were being spread around town, but I was also upset that I couldn’t work in the green houses anymore, which I really enjoyed.  

But God always blesses me with more than I deserve and this experience proved no exception. A few days prior I had met another American, Brenda, who runs an organization outside of Santa Marta that fights violence against women.  Brenda is incredibly warm and funny and once I called her and explained the situation, she immediately agreed to my working with her and her employees.  From what I can gather, I will be transcribing the personal notebooks of females in the local prison - females that are members of the Fifteenth Street gang, one of the most violent gangs in El Salvador.  Eventually these notebooks will be turned into a book that will be more than just another book about abused women, but will be an inspiration for social justice and change in the country as well as from within gangs themselves. At least, that is the hope.  

Brenda!

Tortilla Making with Juana

I am so thrilled to be working in this field of social justice that I’m actually glad the rumor happened.  But don’t tell anyone that in Santa Marta!  This is a new chapter that will hopefully open many doors for my still uncertain future.  

My first Salvadorian birthday party!

This week I said goodbye to my Mom, and hello to my longtime friend Mark Menjivar, who is here photographing the people of Valle Nuevo.  It’s been a blast walking around town with him -  of course with his fun and enthusiastic personality, everyone in town knows him!  We even went in to San Salvador so he could photograph some of the youth in the universities and interview them about community and returning to that community.

Saturday is the anniversary of Oscar Romero’s death, and I will be traveling to San Salvador again for the city-wide commemoration.  More pics to follow!

Into the Lap of Luxury and Back Again

 

Hello folks!  Sorry I didn’t write last week - but I have many pictures to make up for it!

Two weekends ago I visited my friend, Robin Merchant, who happened to be in San Salvador for work.  After traveling seven hours by pickup truck, bus, and finally taxi, I met my friend at a beautiful beachfront house.  Walking through grass, next to numerous hammocks and a swimming pool a stone’s throw away from the beach, I felt like I was at a resort, not next to one of the most dangerous cities in the world.  After pupusas, beer, shrimp, and coconut water, I strolled with my friend on the beach.  Santa Marta and the everyday struggles of it’s people was so far away I felt like I was in a dream.  It was wonderful to catch up with my friend and relax at a fancy beach house, but I was also ready to get back to what I feel as my community.

The day before my great adventure to San Salvador, I went on a hike to view the local caves.  Up to sixteen people would squeeze into these tiny holes when the bombs would drop during the war.  If you would like to see more (professional) pictures, check out Mark Menjivar’s website, where you can see other members of the Valle Nuevo Community at markmenjivar.com.  Click on Retorno.

This week I taught my first class at the school, which was way more entertaining than I thought it would be.  Classes are a lot more chaotic than in the States, but everyone seemed to enjoy my story and questions. 

Thursday I went to tour Radio Victoria, which is one of the leading liberal radio stations in El Salvador.  I was able to sit in on a program about the upcoming elections and talk with the hosts and guests.  

 

 

The month of March is going to be packed with events, so stay tuned for more adventures!