A Summer of Transformation
This reflection was written by Bethany Logberg, SHARE Sistering Accompaniment Coordinator
What we know as summer in the U.S. draws to a close as students begin the school year once again. Here in El Salvador we have come to the close of the “summer delegation season,” always the busiest time of the year for delegation leaders.
Over the past two and a half months, four delegations visited El Salvador, comprised mainly of youth encountering this country with its poignant mixture of sorrow, joy, rage, divisions, and indomitable hope for the first time. I had the blessing of accompanying them as they met Salvadorans who spoke out for justice during the war, who speak for justice today, and who are working in their communities for opportunities and leadership amongst youth and women, and for agricultural practices more in harmony with the earth and local needs. Salvadorans like Madre Guadalupe, a member of the Committee of the Family Members of the Disappeared, whose husband was brutally killed, and who continually accompanied others in the search for their disappeared and imprisoned loved ones during the war and has never stopped the search for truth and justice, and like Joscelyn, a teenager who helps prevent teen pregnancy in her community by educating young women about their sexual and reproductive health rights – a topic usually closed to discussion. We were constantly challenged to think how we would follow Monseñor Romero’s example and stand for life in our small every day decisions, from what we eat to how we treat others.
Towards the end of each delegation, we spent two to three nights in a rural community in the groups sistering region – a time to interact directly with community members and host families, join into peoples´ daily lives, and learn about the community. This summer, communities offered delegation some of the most incredible welcomes I have ever seen. I will try to offer a snapshot of a few of the arrivals.
Nueva Trinidad: As the group from St. Patrick and I arrived at the entrance of Nueva Trinidad, rain hammered in torrents, yet dozens of men, women, children and youth stood gathered in a long clump along the roadside. The community’s youth drumline began rhythmically whacking their drums, full-force, arms pounding, as the rain glued their shirts to their bodies. The giddy beat of the drums rang out over the constant shushing of the rain, making my feet long to dance. Awed by the people’s presence in spite of the downpour, we jumped off the bus and into the rain with them. Immediately women, young and old rushed over with their umbrellas to take us under their wings with them. One young woman on the delegation, Theresa, said that an old woman had beckoned to her affectionately to join her under her umbrella. While Theresa didn’t necessarily understand what the woman said, her warmth shone clearly through her actions. One of the young men on the delegation commented that he was partway under a woman’s umbrella, but a stream of water was running off the side of the umbrella and right down his back, and yet it just didn’t matter because of the sheer joy of the moment.
Nuevo Tehuacán: When we reached the turn-off to Nuevo Tehuacán, a large throng of women, men, and children pooled at the foot of the cobblestone road – seemingly the entire community had turned out. The local high school band stood in formation, young men and women all in their uniforms – crisp white shirts with dark blue pleated skirts or navy pants, and drums, trumpets, trombones, and other instruments poised in their hands. As we stepped off the bus, community members began setting off firecrackers and the band began a lively marching tune. A few community leaders came forward, and directed us to the front of the little parade to walk up the road to the community soccer field, with the band just behind us. A brilliant sun radiated down on everyone, and the thick, sticky air clung to our skin.
Once everyone had crowded into something resembling a circle in the shade of the trees overlooking the soccer field, the community leaders offered an official welcome and played the Salvadoran and U.S. National anthems. A few of the children from the school performed two folk dances. Following this series of intricately planned welcomes, nervous and eager students met their nervous and eager host families and went to their houses for the first time, before returning to participate in what was likely one of the sweatiest soccer games in the students’ lives – given the oppressive nature of the heat. The community members remained gathered for the soccer game, and kids and youth began to come up and start talking and playing with delegates on the sidelines. One student commented that his favorite part of the trip was “the soccer game/parade/cultural exchange because it brought us together.”
El Coyol: The community members of El Coyol greeted the members of the CDH August delegation in their community center, decorated with streamers, balloons and cut-out letters reading “Welcome young students from Minnesota.” The community president, a youth representative, and a girl representing the children all gave official welcomes to the group. Youth from the community presented a coreographed dance lasting for the space of several songs. An aspiring young mariachi currently in the third grade sang several songs, accompanied by the community band. Meanwhile some of the children from the community climbed into some of the students’ laps.
In a meeting with the community leaders of El Coyol the following day, one community member asked members of the delegation to share their hopes and reasons for visiting . One of the CDH teachers, Ellie Roscher said, “There are things that we can’t teach in the classroom, like your love.” Each of these communities in their exuberant welcomes and in many moments during our visits there showed and shared deep-rooted love, organization, hospitality, and generosity. Forming connections with host families and community members is one of the most beautiful parts of a delegation. One student from the CDH August group later commented, “I learned how to love and treat other people better from the example of the people in the community of El Coyol.”
For many members of the delegations, seeing the incredible joy, grace, and hospitality families and communities welcomed them with, visiting places like El Mozote and standing in the garden where hundreds of children were killed, learning that many of the soldiers who carried out the massacre were trained at the U.S. Army School of the Americas and the U.S. sent the Salvadoran military an average of a million dollars a day during the war, seeing a community of tin shacks across the road from a mega shopping mall and wealthier areas with stores like Tony Roma’s and Victorias secret, and meeting members of a community radio station who continue to work to keep communities informed and speak out against mining even though they receive little to no pay and are getting death threats stirred profound questions for them. Questions like how do I want to live my life? What impact do I have on the environment? What does it mean to be a U.S. citizen and have a voice and a vote? How can I bring this reality back to my life? How can we share this story with others in the U.S. and change the way we treat other countries?
During the final reflection with the delegation from St. Patrick in Seattle, in grappling with these questions and more, one of the youth remarked “we’re talking about what touches our souls, what defines us.” I believe these are the most important kinds of questions to be asking. I love that through my job, I am able to accompany people as they encounter both the incomprehensible injustices here and the deep love, and hope of many Salvadorans and the many incredible steps they are taking to make their communities more informed, loving, organized, and in this way transform their reality.
