"You will never be completely at home again

.. Because a part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of knowing and loving people in more than one place."

The night before graduation last year I cried my eyes out to Zach and Margot.. Sad to leave Santa Clara, nervous about going to El Salvador and telling them how many places I wanted to be... In Colorado with Elyse, Zach and Sawyer, California with Coop, Margot's car with her, India with Lauren, El Salvador, the list went on to all the places people I love would be. This quote feels like the perfect explanation of that moment and so many years of wanting to be in more than one place. Sometimes it feels like F.O.M.O (fear of missing out) but really it is that.. The richness of knowing and loving people in more than one place.

Since I found this quote I have been thinking about it a lot. I miss El Salvador every single day.. And this past year that really did become home. In a crazy and beautiful way a life that is so far from this one and brings me to life in so many ways became home and I absolutely loved it. Leaving was so hard and I don't think ill ever fully understand how to integrate the different worlds. But there is also something beautiful about being able to find home wherever I am.

Last week we went home to Colorado for a family reunion with the Maddex clan and I stayed for a week with my mom, my mountains and my best friends- the place that no matter where I am in my life will always be home. It was SUCH a great trip. The family reunion was an absolute ball- and special for me that it was in Leadville and the time outside, mountain train ride, nightly campfires, frisbee golf and visit to Eric's was really special home time for me. But it also felt like home to be with my family- many who I haven't seen for 8 years. But had a care and interest in me and what matters to me that let me feel at home. I got to talk about El Salvador, play with the next generation of cousins and dance the funny dance between little cousin and woman with my older cousins. And it was fantastic. 

My mama has to move out of Leadville. And once all the family had left I spent some days soaking in time in Leadville, long runs at the lake, going through my room, dinners with mom and some tears about the idea of leaving our house.. The longest physical space I have known as home. As I cried we talked about all the good and the bad we've been through in that house- and I think leaving the space is a weird symbol of moving on and letting go- of some thing's that it's time to let go of and others we don't ever want to let go of. And when it feels scary to leave Leadville I just have to remember that it's the people, the memories, the mountains that make that home- just as much as our house. My time with Elyse and Zachy reminded me of that- how home it is to be with them. And dreaming of Zachys future wondering how you meet a group of friends like ours I told him I've found those friends in so many places- and for that I am so so grateful.

Sometimes having my heart spread all over the country and world feels a little hard. I am always missing someone, always have a list of people I need to call and always wanting to jump around the world to visit all the people my heart holds so dear. But really it is such a gift. And has made for such a richness of living, learning, growing and feeling crazy amounts of support.

While I was home I started dreaming of living in Colorado. I want to be close to Sawyer as he grows up, help my mom move and be able to live the day to day with Zach and Elyse like we always have. Crazy thoughts were happening- maybe I should just go to school at CSU and not go to Boston right now. Sometimes moving across the country, starting a whole new home and falling in love with new people sounds terrifying. 

Then I got on the plane and started reading my journal from El Salvador- and I did the same thing at the end of my time there. Dreaming of ways to stay. But I also read about all the reasons I am going to Boston next year, the parts of me that are still becoming that I think my time in Boston will really nourish. And while all the people, love and homes I have in my life fill me so full- there is a becoming me and process of finding that home in me that I am still working on. And falling in love with more people and places can never be a bad thing, especially cause we are lucky enough to live in a world where we can keep in touch across long distances. And I am privileged enough that I can make those visits- and I think I've gotten preety good at long distance friendships. And I can still dream of all the homes I might want to end up in in three years- Colorado, The Bay, El Salvador.. My heart will find the way. 

I came back to the bay and felt a joy of coming home to here too, walks with Coop, Jes and Kylie and the things about here that have become home. It's preety amazing how hearts can adapt so easily and amazing to know that wherever I am can always feel like home. And someday I will choose where I want to call home more permanently. For now I am endlessly grateful for the homes and friendships that have nourished my heart. 

Exactly Where I Need to Be

I've been home for a month now. I cant even believe it. Everyday I miss El Salvador.. and everyday I feel oh so grateful to be here and like I am exactly where I need to be. I just came in from sitting on the porch with a mellow Cooper taking in the world- those moments are so special and I get to soak up so many of them. When I was deciding if I should stay in El Salvador or come here the Salvadoran's commitment to their family was a huge part in deciding to be here. Ever since graduating high school I have gone on tons of adventures, taken big risks, gone new places and done really amazing things for myself..and it felt like it was time to do something for my family. As adults Jesse and I get to create our family and make it what we want- and having this summer with them is such a perfect way to start that closeness and I really love being here.. for so many reasons...

1. Soaking up such special time with Coop: walks into town, afternoons playing in the yard, slow mornings, watching him learn to roll and bounce and babble, getting lots of smiles and figuring him out. This guy has completely stolen my heart and leaving in August is gonna be hard. But I am just so grateful to have this special time with him.. and know that for the rest of his life this time together is gonna matter.

2. Seeing Jes and Kylie as such amazing parents. I love watching them love him. Talking through whats amazing and hard about parenting. Laughing with them and just living the day to day with them. Learning from them about what it means to have a healthy, happy and stable home and realtionship. And feeling myself get closer and closer with them- such a gift. Last night we watched Parenthood (best tv show ever) and all cried... and how special to have those moments.

3. Everything about the Bay. I am quickly falling back in love with these place.. and dreaming of coming back here after my quick East Coast stint. Jes and Kylie moved to Mill Valley (just North of the Golden Gate) a year ago to be closer to open space. And it really is the best of both worlds. So easy to go for runs, hikes, take a ferry across the bay, get to wine country and get into the city. My week days are quiet, suburb life with evening runs to the beach or through the sycamore trees into town and I can easily pop into the city for dinner or fun weekend play.

4. San Francisco... Sunday we went to Pride...and it was amazing. It is fun and crazy and silly but it is also so meaningful and profound to live in a city that is so radically accepting and loving, and hopefully teaching something to the rest of the world. So many companies, church's, different ethnic groups and people you wouldn't expect to be supportive walked in the parade. And we sat on the side with so many people full of joy cheering them on, cheering on acceptance, and love that can not be right or wrong or labeled. As we watched I told Farwell.. this city gives me hope. So often being back in the states after El Salvador I feel frustrated with what matters to us, the way we get lost in money and image and our selves. The amount that so many have while others here and across the globe have so much less. But as I soaked up the energy of Pride I felt incredibly grateful to live in this country- where we are making progress to understanding that all love is equal and that it is NOT OK to tell people who they can and cannot love. Cheers to you San Francisco.. you are amazing.

5. Moments of meeting beautiful souls from Central America and getting a chance to speak to them in Spanish, ask where they are from, connect with them in their language and hear a little bit of their story. At library story time I don't find myself chatting with the other moms but instead with the Latina nannies, women who came to the states years ago and have been taking care of different families ever since- yet may never see their own families again. Our housekeeper who told me she tries to always speak to her kids in Spanish cause she doesn't want them to loose that connection. Or the guy in the market from Guatemala who lives a life so different than the one he left behind. Speaking spanish is such a beautiful thing and I love the way it breaks down barriers. My heart is so connected to the suffering of the people who risk their lives to come to the states and I feel fired up and frustrated and heart broken about immigration policy and deportation and all thats in the news. But the chance to share a bit of my story and hear their's and connect in someone else's language fills me with the love, hope and motivation that I found in El Salvador to fight for something different.

6. Friends in the bay and weekends full of fun. I am SO grateful to be near Sam, Nate, Cara, Danielle, the Casa crew in the bay and so many others. I have missed my friends so much and love that I can pop into the city for dinner or they can come over for hikes, hot tubs and suburban calm. It's really special to have this time here with them and they make quiet weekdays with Coop less lonely.

7. Remembering what it means to have alone time, do things solely for me and listen to what my heart needs. This past year was so much about other people and exactly what I wanted it to be. But by the end I think I forgot what it meant just to be with myself. Towards the end I felt a little claustrophobic with a small group and small space and everything felt externally motivated. And while my extrovert heart craves that sometimes, I think it is so good to have the space and time just for me. To get back in touch with my heart, to do what I need and learn what I need before going into three years of busy, full days again. 


There is so much more- being able to pick up my phone and call anytime, sunny days and foggy days. The moments that my heart hurts so deeply for El Salvador and being able to snuggle with Coop, move slowly, call people who know my heart and just take care of myself. Reaching out to new spaces of support because I know thats what I need. So much. Last night I read a million notes from the staff and Salvadoran students that they gave me before we left. I miss them deeply and struggle again and again to understand how to hold that time and family close while not being paralyzed by missing it. But everyday I am figuring it out. And everyday I feel held and supported by this place and the people nearby. The world is good. Thank you thank you thank you.

Remembering the End

Its been over a month since the lasts, goodbyes and endless flood of tears began as we started the process of leaving that country.  Those moments are always so sacred and today sitting in my comfortable home I feel far away from that world. And I don't want to forget how special that time was. So.. we are taking a time machine back.

Those of you who know me know that I rarely cry in front of other people... there are a select few who always provide the space for the water works but otherwise I'm surprisingly dry eyed. That changed in my last few weeks there. It all started with our final staff check in. Every other Monday we checked in with the Casa and Romero program staff.. how we are doing personally, whats happening with family, our hearts, everything under the sun. And this past ten months that was easily one of my favorite spaces. We went into check in feeling the pain of the end... not wanting to leave this staff that had become family and incredibly unique work environment where we dedicate time to hearing about how people are really doing. Then the check in's started. People shared about their fears of the gang violence in their neighborhood, families struggles with migrating to the U.S. and all these things about the reality of El Salvador that are so so painful. And when I opened my mouth to share something let loose and I balled my little eyes out. I was so sad to leave them, but even more heart broken that they couldn't leave.. that I would get on a plane and fly away to comfort, security, opportunities and too many things that their families would never fully experience. I cried because they are so stuck, and I am not.. and that is solely because of where I was born. And its just not right. I thanked them, cried too much and tried to pull myself together a little. It could have been embarassing, but it felt so good to feel all that pain and feel it with such an amazing community there by my side. Ted and Ella on the couch with me as always, holding my hand, feeling the pain and knowing that those tears don't come easily. It was such a clear reminder to me of how important that place is, how much I loved that family and how painful leaving really was.

The next day I spent my last day at San Ramon.. one of the two amazing communities I was lucky enough to learn from this semester. It was an extra special day cause Elyse was there visiting and got to join me. We started the morning hiking up the volcano to visit a couple families in the community called La Valencia. We didn't make it up there that many times this year- but everytime we did it filled me with so much life. One particular family- Marta and her 8 kids/grandkids that live with her in their one room house always welcomed us in with open arms. We often took lunch and cooked on their fire, hanging with the kids, playing tag, whatever it might be in the meantime. Then using the buckets as chairs and tortillas as utensils we all squeezed around the tiny table sharing a meal. We talk a lot about making a place at the table for everyone and that is the basis of everything I want to learn and fight for as I carry Casa forward with me. At Marta's house I was always reminded of what it meant, to welcome people in, share a meal, give what little you have and feel this closeness that came so easily. Our final morning there was just like the rest- so comfortable and a reminder of what El Salvador is. What I would give to be back in the simplicty of their home, their love, their commitment to life that is not covered up by anything- raw, real and so ready to be shared.

After lunch we walked down for my final English class- with a group of crazy kids who became so comfortable with each other and me. We laughed, made cards for mothers day, took silly pictures, ate cake and shared something they learned. Teaching English for us at the Casa isn't always about the kids actually learning a ton of English, but more about them feeling like they matter, because too often they are told they don't. And I think we succeeded in doing that and building a community amongst them, a stable space for them to learn some, play some and be kids. I gave them certificates, hugged their moms and thanked them for lighting up my world- and many of them Ill probably never see. But oh how I hope they remember how special they are- intelligent, funny, loving and SO capable of doing whatever they dream.

Finally the women came for our last women's group and wow...what a day. We talked about Mothers Day- a women who has influenced their life. And almost all of them cried, sharing about the good and bad impacts they have had- mothers that left, other women standing in as moms and some who had the mom they deserved. Then what they are proud of- taking that pain and turning it into a love and commitment for their own kids. I thanked them so deeply- for their inspiration, honesty, commitment to keep coming back and for loving me so well. It was beautiful and I will never forget some of their last words as I said goodbye- especially Annita and Maria Teresa. The two women who were my mentors in the community and are two of the most bad ass women I know. Commited to justice, faith, love and all of that in ACTION not just talking but really walking the walk. Learning from them was such a gift and I will forever be changed by their presence in my life. I left feeling full, endlessly grateful and proud... I really gave that community my whole heart and together we built something beautiful. They showed me how much I want to work with Latino women, how important those spaces are. They taught me about faith and justice and how you give yourself to this world. And they made me feel so very at home. I miss them everyday. Their hugs, tears, how they always kept coming back. I can't believe how lucky I was to be apart of that family. Watch Annita welcome EVERYONE in, listen to her stories of the Pequena Comunidad and beginnings of the Christian Base Community. She showed me you can disagree with things about the church but still love and fight for the focus on justice, love and that place at the table for all.  Maria T taught me to fight for women, in a context where nobody is, showed me a feistiness I know in myself and how you can use it for something right. And I hope to become some fraction of the women they each are.

These communities taught me so much,let me become me, healed me, opened me and became family. I miss them everyday but will continue to carry them on my heart. Thank you El Salvador for making my family yet again bigger, for letting me fall in love, for teaching me more than I can even say.

More remembering to come later.

El Salvador.. Stay with me

I'm home... Writing from my new normal in Mill Valley while Cooper sleeps and we listen to ocean waves. It's hard to believe I'm here. And harder to believe I was in El Salvador a week ago saying goodbyes and feeling so connected to that world. I am the luckiest to get to spend the summer with this guy

 And can easily get lost in his smile and snuggles and sleeping and eating schedule. The perfect way to forget that some big movements are happening on my heart.

Yesterday we went for a long walk and we saw luxury cat boarding and more dry cleaners and beauty salons than I could count. And it all made my stomach hurt a little. It was a hard reminder of what is so often important in this world. It's a strange world we live in where some have so much and others so few, and the jump between the two is pretty jostling. 

Before I left I wanted to blog about so many things... The sacred moments that made up the end, our time in Nicaragua, what El Salvador created in me over 10 months. And last night I feel asleep anxious about loosing my closeness to all those things, our year there, my heart that is on fire in that country, my family and that way of living that is so special. I so don't want to let go of it.. And I'm also not succeeding greatly at holding onto it right now. It's too easy to just kind of say this is the transition time and instead of feeling it watch too many episodes of Parenthood, let coop sleep in my lap and never get to close to what my heart felt. But that is terrifying when I stop and see it. Ill never fully know how to do it or understand why exactly we go there or how to bring it back... But I know that I need to hold it and touch it instead of just letting the distractions help me forget about it. I don't want to forget, I want it to be close to me always.

So this morning I read back in my journal about how to transition, read some poetry and some of the notes from the staff to remind me that it's real. But I hate how far away and different it feels. And I know there are connections, and there will be more once I am at BC studying things that are so relevant. But right now I'm scared to let go in a healthy way. And I wanna write about all those amazing moments and re live it all.. And maybe it will come eventually.

But for now I am endlessly grateful for this time with Cooper, Kylie and Jesse. For a wonderful welcome home at SCU where so many ppl just know. And for a bit of awareness that keeps me up at night when I'm slipping. Transitions are hard and weird. And right now beauty salons, luxury cat borders and so many dry cleaners make me wanna rip my hair out. Because the people I love in El Salvador can't even put enough food on the table.. And we can make sure every wrinkle is gone from our shirts and our faces. It just doesn't make sense. But I don't wanna be resentful. I want to keep understanding how I can live in this world with that way of being. How I can stay away from the funny pressures and comparison and whatever else happens here so that I don't get lost in a world of money and dry cleaning, but hold onto and share what actually matters to me.

El Salvador.. Stay with me, guide my steps, I need you.

Days in Cedro

Today's a two for one blog catch up day so scroll down and read about Mozote first :)

Wednesday the kids at Cedro had a water day. They filled inflatable pools up, changed out of their uniforms and were the happiest most free I've seen  playing, splashing, screaming and laughing in the pool. Exuding pure joy. I didnt know Wednesday was the day so had no clothes to change into. But watching their eyes light up and remembering how few days I have left here I couldn't help but join them. 

Last weekend I went to a celebration of the word for holy Saturday. The Christian Base Community I spend one day a week in does celebrations instead of masses where everyone is involved rather than the hierarchical traditional mass- they are amazing and beautiful. One of the reflections was on the meaning of water. And while myself and the student I went with thought about all the cleansing, joyful, healing moments we have had in water the community shared about how much of a struggle it is for them. A sign of power, marginalization and injustice.

That being said- in a country where water is scarce someone could see today's water day as a waste. But as I watched them with the biggest grins on their face all I could think about is how they too now can have a memory of water that is of joy and freedom. And oh how they deserve to play in the water so freely just like we all have growing up. 

When I got in in my clothes I was worried Sor, the quite uptight nun who coordinates everything would be upset. But when she saw me she just said "que alegre" and went on to encourage all the timid kids to get in the pools, splash and play. I assumed the chaos would make her crazy but instead she was fully embracing a chance for these kids who have seen and experienced way more than their young eyes and hearts should have to , to just play and enjoy themselves, it was BEAUTFUL.

I have been so lucky this semester to spend one day a week back on Cedro- the community that was my praxis site as a student.  Everyday I'm here I miss my praxis partners Claire and Annie who made my time all that it was- and we're thereto laugh at the ridiculousness and cry when it all was just too much with me. But it feels so much like home. Today two of the girls who were in kinder when i was a student came back and seeing them growing up gave me goosebumps. The Casa is all about relationships and being there again just reminds me how meaningful it is to be with a community for an extended period of time. To watch the kids grow up, be with the families through the ups and downs and really become a part of it. As this time quickly comes to an end I am so aware of what Emily said last semester "you can never have enough time with the people you love". The longer I'm here the longer I think I could stay, the more at home I feel, the more in touch with these communities in a way that allows me to really walk with them and work together for liberation. 

I so love being apart of the Cedro family. It's a funny little place- and different in lots of ways from some sites, every time I'm there it reconnects me to the beauty and pain of this reality in such a special way.

Watching Nina Reina do one of the little girls hair, the moms taking care of each others kids, Santos giving her everything for them- I'm reminded how beautiful and necessary community is. They are all raising these kids together, finding ways to sigue adelante despite their poverty and the injustices that determine their lives. And it's incredible. 

I see the kids  who's parents are not there when they should be, who don't have enough to eat, and whose pain can be felt in their arms that won't let go, their eyes begging for love and attention, yet their hearts full of love to give. Santos cries too often when I'm there- because people have been robbing the comedor, because Suleyma's padrinos still haven't sent money for her scholarship and her son decided to stop going to school. The reality is heart breaking, but it is real and it is home and I am so grateful for the chance to be close to it. To feel like I am with my family, with a community that is so special to me. That introduced me to all that this country is, rocked me to the bones and continues to teach me so much every single day.

Mozote

A few weeks back we visited Mozote- a northern department where 1000 people were killed in a brutal massacre by the Salvadoran army during the civil war. This is the third time I have visited and every single time I am completely rocked by the horrors that were committed in that massacre, so many others during the war and other horrible human rights violations across the world- which there are so many more than we often are aware of.

The army arrived in Mozote accusing people of being involved with the leftist guerrilla movement. The US government funded this anti communism movement and financially supported the horrific death of an unimaginable number of people. The army killed off thousands of people believing that if the guerrillas didn't have anyone to support them they wouldn't survive. Priests, teachers, protesters and anyone who encouraged the liberation and organization of the poor were persecuted. They along with so many innocent people were killed in an attempt to protect the power and wealth of the Salvadoran Conservative party.

The army arrived in Mozote and ordered every single person out of their house. Then separated the men, women and children into three different houses and group by group tortured and killed all but one survivor. There is a beautiful memorial to all the innocent, beautiful, joy filled children that were killed. And on the wall with a mosaic of a rainbow scene is a list of the names and ages of each child. Babies as young as three years old were murdered alongside their older siblings. And while no matter the age killing someone so brutally is impossible to understand, the murder of young, innocent children brings home the pain of the war to a whole other level.

When we are in Mozote or visiting the museum at the UCA with artifacts of the Jesuits killed or in Chalate hearing testimonies of the massacres that occurred there... Again and again we are left trying desperately to understand how a human being could possibly commit such atrocities to another human being. It is absolutely terrifying to understand that someone not that different from ourselves was able to look in the eyes of a young child and take their life. I will never be able to really wrap my mind around it. But I do see the way we can shut ourselves off from each other. Close off from the suffering of another and interact with the world out of our pain an suffering. I remember hearing in history classes that we learn about these things so they won't happen again- but they keep happening. And it makes me sick to my stomach to hear about them. Yesterday I heard about a 5 year old that was being intiated into a gang and had to kill his family to enter and instead killed himself.  Wars that the US governments continues to fund and support. Families who live next door to us and don't have enough to eat. Violence within families. There are a million examples. And so often I think what motivates these atrocities are greed, power, wealth, comfort- things that we somehow are convinced matter more than life and love. 

But we also have ways to not let these things win. And so many people are examples of how we can continue to fight against these atrocities, disconnections and the continued cycle of suffering. And I think it starts with simply being with each other, listening to our stories, walking together in our suffering and pain so that instead of having it come out in resentment or hurtfulness to another it can become a force of community and new life. 

Reflecting at the end of the day at Mozote we talked about what the time there called us to do. I want to carry the pain of Mozote with me. Like I said every time I'm there my heart is broken for these families and I have a visceral reaction to how horrible it was. But I don't only wanna be in touch with that when I'm there. I wanna remember the people of Mozote and so many other places whose lives have been taken so unjustly everyday. And sharing their stories is one way to do that.

Just like always in this country- even in this story of such deep pain- there is a glimmer of hope. Rufina is the single survivor of the massacre  at Mozote and her story is one of such courage and choosing life. As she stood in line waiting to be killed, listening to the screams of her children she decided to escape. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled away hiding in the bushes, running into the mountains and somehow surviving to tell the story of Mozote. If she were caught she surely would have been killed, likely more brutally than already planned and likely with consequences for the others. Even after surviving she risked endless persecution by the army for the rest of her life. And rather than ring paralyzed by fear and letting death take her- she took a chance. We stood in the spot where she made this decision. And I tried to imagine myself doing the same. I don't think I could have done that. And in the same way I want to carry with me the pain of this day I want to hold onto her example of courage and faith. If she had not survived the story of Mozote would have disappeared with so many other atrocities- but Rufina lived to tell it, and those of us who have heard it we too live to tell it. To keep fighting for a world where we choose love, where we look into each others eyes and hearts, where we tell our stories, heal together and know that we are capable of causing great pain.

Catching the Contagious Passion to Fight for Something More

Ive been meaning to blog for a long time now. So often I come home from an amazing day and want to share it with the world. Then I get caught up in whatever I have to do or am too exhausted and the weeks and things I want to write about add up… then I have no idea where to start. 

March 8^th was International Women’s Day. We were on the first day of our Silent Retreat at these beautiful hot spring pools a couple hours away. As I sat in the pool in silence I thought about what it means to be a woman. The challenges, especially around our bodies that society has told us has to be something in order for us to have worth. That we have to act a certain way, receive a certain grade or a list of things to make everyone else happy. With a group of six female students I just wanted to tell them each how worthy, beautiful and whole they are exactly as they are. And I really want to tell that to every single woman in the world. Sometimes I joke that being here has made my feminist inklings rage. And I actually hate that feminism and raging are so frequently connected. Being here has deepened my gratitude, love and amazement at all of the women in this world and has broken my heart at the injustice, suffering, lack of appreciation and inequality that so many face simply for being women. Yes when I am whistled at and objectified on the street I feel anger burning inside me…but I think it is justified. Most the time what I feel is so incredibly blessed to be surrounded by women who hold their families together, who get up every morning, who give and give with a smile despite how little they receive. Their strength and faith inspires me, the depth and beauty of their hearts and souls make me want to fight for them, for us. But I think it is stronger here because although still stifled often for being a woman, my voice can be louder than so many of the women I encounter here. And in the sisterhood I feel with them I feel a responsibility to fight for our rights and worthiness as women- unique, whole, broken, beautiful, universe’s inside each of us.

A couple weeks afterwards I went to an International Women’s Day event in the community I spend one day a week in. Surrounded by about 100 other women we sang “Mujer Salvadorena” and other songs, talked about what International Women’s Day means, sexual and reproductive rights and Eco Feminisim. It was incredible. These are things that don’t get talked about in this country. ESPECIALLY sexual and reproductive rights. And to be surrounded by women that are so often forced to be silent hearing them talk about their rights, was so empowering and inspiring. We women continue to defy and overcome the barriers that are so often put in our way.. and for this I am so grateful to be a woman.

Later that night we loaded up two busses and went to the annual Romero Vigil. Oscar Arnulfo Romero was selected to be the Archbishop of El Salvador in 1977. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church selected him thinking he would be a quiet, conservative archbishop who wouldn’t rock the boat. Others, like his dear friend Rutillio Grande (the first priest killed in the Salvadoran civil war) knew that he would be an archbishop for the people. Romero had a conversion and spent three years preaching about the rights of the poor, spending time with them in communities and denouncing the brutal actions of the Salvadoran Civil Army. He was shot while saying mass in 1980 and his death marked the official beginning of the 12 year war.

Romero is a hero for the people of El Salvador. And the way his legacy lives on is something I can’t fully understand. Yet in a time of deep injustice, suffering, fear, loss and pain- Romero was with the people, fighting for their rights, listening to their stories, walking with them while their government (and ours) took thousands of innocent lives. They believe Jesus passed through El Salvador in Romero, they are pushing for him to be a canonized saint and to this day his example gives strength and energy to so many in the fight for justice.

Every year the anniversary of his death is commemorated with a march, mass and all night vigil which consists of stories, music and celebration. Being a part of it this year was amazing. As we marched we did chants for justice, following Romero’s example and feeling his legacy run through our blood as a responsibility to carry it on. We walked a few miles to where his body is buried and had mass outside the Cathedral. During mass I felt frustrated because I couldn’t hear anything and was disconnected from the significance of the night. Luckily I didn’t leave on the first bus and soon was on fire with the energy of the people around me, so connected to the history of this country- so impacted by Romero. A few of us stayed with a big group of the Salvadoran students in our sister program.  Dancing with my amazing Salvadoran friends, I was so amazed at the energy with which they sang along to songs about Romero, the war and stories that really matter. They got so excited when some of their favorite songs came on and in their eyes you could see the ways these songs energize them to sigue adelante, to overcome the many barriers that are placed before them by their reality of poverty and marginalization and commit themselves to a better reality.  By the end of the night my cheeks hurt from smiling so much and my feet hurt from all the dancing.. I think those are signs of an evening well lived.

I am always amazed by the way the youth are connected to their history. They have heard their parent’s stories of the war and some only a few years older than us have their own memories. They see the ways people like Romero touched the lives of their family and they are unhappy with the reality they find themselves in today. Many leave to the United States, others succumb to the way things are because there seems no other options. But the ones I spend the majority of my time with have chosen something different- because they follow the examples of so many before them who believe something different is possible. And watching their eyes light up as they sung a long to the songs about justice I caught fire to the contagion of committing yourself to something bigger.

I feel so lucky to be surrounded by so many people who inspire me to work for something more and as I soak in how amazing this job and life are it’s scary to think that it is soon coming to an end. I am making big decisions for the next step and dreaming of ways to carry this home with me everyday. But for now trying to stay present here and let the example of these people become a part of me.