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.

Love Wins

Last weekend swimming in the river near one of the Salvadorans house with her, a student and her two younger cousins I once again couldn’t believe that this is my job. Obviously I’m not making the big bucks but it is a job- and it is the best one ever. I should probably just retire after this.. cause having this as my first real(ish) job out of college is gonna make finding one near as good after pretty hard.

The Romero program is the other arm of the Casa that provides housing, meals and spiritual formation to Salvadoran students. Going to University is nearly impossible for the majority of the country and those who get scholarships often live far away and have to travel 3 hours each way every day if they want to go to school. Kev and Tre realized it would be mutually beneficial if we could create a program for these students and give the American students access to Salvadoran peers. They are in the program for five years and their third year they live in the houses with the American students. Usually there are two per house but since we only have one house this semester we have SIX becarios living with us… and it’s amazing. The students have had the chance to get really close with them already and they bring a lot of life, experience, wisdom and diversity to our community. Every semester we spend a weekend at their houses so we can better understand the reality they come from and get to know them on a more intimate level.

Last weekend Michelle (one of the students) and I went to Lucy’s house and had the most amazing weekend. We were welcomed into their home with open arms, so much laughter and joy and a really beautiful willingness to share their story with us.  Lucy’s younger brother is in a wheel chair and after asking a few questions Lucy’s mom shared the story of finding out that he was born with a spinal disease (if I heard it in English I’d probably know what it is…but things still get lost in translation). The first three days the doctors didn’t tell her what was wrong and she barely saw him, and when they finally told her they said he would likely only live for three years. He is 17 today and when Lucy had something to do he happily came and chatted with us- he is SO joyful, intelligent, hilarious and affectionate. 

The next day when the whole staff was visiting Tere (the mom) told a little bit of the story and explained that Ronald is the greatest gift God has given her, and as the older brother rubbed his hands through his hair and his sister held his hand it was so clear how true that is for their family. Ronald has brought the family together and they have not let suffering have the last word. It is not very common to see an intact, functional, incredibly loving family in this country and being with them this weekend was so healing for me and gave me a lot of hope. Later Lucy’s dad shared his story- his parents leaving when he was 5- sleeping on some generous man’s floor for 12 years, hiding from both sides of the war so he wasn’t recruited and then falling in love with Lucy’s mom. He has worked so hard to be where they are today and again and again talked about the importance of his faith and spiritual education for his family- a beautiful family that had me in tears laughing telling jokes at the dinner table. I never want to sugar coat the suffering that exists in this country- or for Lucy’s family in specific. They have had to fight- so hard. They have to work, and have cried and hurt as they watched their son go through surgeries, get held back from school and be stuck in the house because the community is not fit for a wheel chair. But there is something more that continues to give me hope in the power of the human experience, of community, of love. For Lucy’s family, our students, so many I have encountered in this country and our own alike- if we let it, love wins.

The love that they have for each other manifests so clearly and I spent most the weekend with a huge smile on my face. We swam in the river, laughed til we cried at dinner, listen to Lucy sing while her older brother Nelson played the guitar and searched for a song we could sing together. The next day the Casa staff, their families and MY family came to visit for the day. Joan, Ettienne and Mekenna were here for a long weekend and it worked out really well for them to come see Lucy’s house with the rest of the staff. Joaney was amazed at how many people showed up- all voluntary- to see one of the students houses. Our staff is really special and we spent the morning preparing lunch and finding enough chairs for the 45 people that came. We heard more of their story, sang and played dinamicas, ate lunch and then went to the nearby waterfalls where we decided to swim in our clothes. Something about water makes me feel like a kid again- totally free and playful, a feeling that was so fun to share with Lucy and her family, some of the staff members and my brave aunt who swam in the waterfalls with me in her skirt J. We drank fresh squeezed orange juice, picked mangos off the tree to eat and were reminded of the simplicity of the life of so many in this country. I was amazed at their closeness to the land and their food and dreamed of ways to bring that home with me, trying to imagine if I could ever live in the campo of El Salvador. I don’t know if I could- but I absolutely love it and am taking notes of ways I will bring this home with me this time. We said goodbye Monday morning reluctantly- wanting to stay longer and at a loss for words to express our deep gratitude for letting us into their lives, sharing so generously with us- their home and food but even more special- their love and story. It was beautiful- and again I cannot believe that part of my job is to spend the weekend at a friend’s house getting to know her family, that’s what the world should be about.

This week is praxis week and the students are at their praxis sites for the whole week. Which means we get a little bit of down time. We went to the beach on Sunday and the last few days have been normal days for me. Staff meeting and check in and then two days of praxis. On Tuesday’s I am in San Ramon working with Annita who is the most bad ass amazing woman I have ever met. I lead a group for teenage girls, do an English class and then lead a group for women. It’s absolutely amazing and my favorite days are spent in San Ramon. It’s a beautiful mix of feeling like I am doing something genuine to who I am, my skills, my passion while also receiving so much and being close to the vulnerable, painful and beautiful Salvadoran reality. Plus being with Annita is so inspiring, she is the definition of “Casa Abierta”. She is the coordinator of a Christian Base Community and throughout the day people come in and out looking for a listening ear and the amazing, empowering support that she provides them. Wednesday’s I’m back at Cedro- my site when I was a student. I teach computer to the kiddos in the morning but mostly am just there to be with the family I created two years ago and fill the gap of not having students. It’s pretty special. And my life is pretty amazing. This semester is different but I love the chance to have more time with the Salvadoran’s, more time in the community and sometime to think about what’s next. I’ve been spending a lot of time writing essays for Grad School apps- and am so aware of how amazingly this place has formed me- and scared out of my mind to leave it.

“Its days like these that I never want to leave”

            Two days ago on the bus home from visiting the cooks, who are much more than cooks- moms, aunts, counselors, friends, laundry teachers, nurses and so much more I turned and said this to Ella. And as I look back on the last three days I could say that about every single one. I am most alive when I am with the Salvadorans… I feel so connected to gratitude, to why I am here, to this amazing gift of hearing people’s stories, being welcomed into their homes and sharing in life with these people who have become family and friends.

            Saturday we visited 3 of the 5 cooks homes. In each we were offered a seat, something (or many things) to eat and the story of these women who we share in everyday life with. We heard stories of loss from involvement with drug addiction, loss during the war, and loss of family who has left to the states. These women let us into their hearts sharing about the most difficult parts of their lives, letting go of friends, spouses and children- but still they keep opening up to us and letting us become friends and children for them. They radiate joy and love, in such an amazing way and show their love in the food that they cook for us everyday, the hugs and “Buenos dias” they greet me with every morning and the way they just know when someone is not doing well. They, like so many in this country and ours alike, have experienced great suffering, but have found great love, hope and faith. And have continued to give themselves to this world that continues to disappoint- and in that they have found life. Their stories are so sacred and it reminds me that so is each of ours, every single person that we encounter- so many of which we never hear. I am so grateful for the ways the Salvadorans have taught me the importance of our stories, of sharing them and finding that connection that we find in our common human experience of love and pain and the parts of us that are really all the same. I felt so at home, so present and just endlessly grateful. These women have opened up their homes for countless groups of students, just as the praxis sites and so many others- and they never seem to struggle to reinvest, to judge, or have an ending supply of patience and love. I am learning from the Salvadorans that this is what it is about- continuing to open myself, to give love and to reinvest in this world and let go of what I cant control- knowing that there is grace involved that makes beautiful, miraculous, unexpected things happen.

            Sunday Ted, Ella and I took the bust to visit William, our famous, chatty, hilarious vigilante for the afternoon. We have been meaning to visit all year and this semester are trying to be more proactive about these things- knowing that when the semester ends we wont have another to do all the things we forgot to do. And we were in for a treat. We walked into his home which is famous for the way he has used recycled materials to continue building and making it more and more homey. It has a beautiful porch overlooking the rolling green hills and the house is decorated with things he has found on the street and refurbished into something beautiful. You feel like you are a world away from the tight, sometimes uncomfortable homes that his neighbors just a few doors down live in. His family is amazing- open, close, hilarious and the most comfortable to be around. We had never been there before and felt like we were visiting old friends for the millionth time. All we did was hang out, sit around and chat and it felt completely normal- and just so wonderful. When I walked in his older daughter who is in her first year at the UCA was working on her statistics homework using SPSS, the same program I learned in my Sociology classes. She was stuck on a question and I helped her through it- amazed that of all places, I was using the SPSS skills I learned in a small town in El Salvador. And so grateful to share in this part of our education together, so grateful that she like so few has the opportunity to learn the same skills that I learned at Santa Clara, and that we had the chance to share in trying to understand that. We ate lunch and spent the whole time laughing and chatting, relaxed on the couches and heard the story of how William and Tita met. Its amazing that this place can feel like home- in so many ways, but it really does. And on the way home watching the clouds lit on fire by the orange sunset I thought to myself once again “its days like these I never want to leave”

            Last night I couldn’t sleep- the late afternoon cafecita does me no good, neither does my mind running trying to understand the many transitions these last months have given me. I knew today was going to be a long, full day- staff meetings all morning, then lunch, more meetings, secret amigo gift exchange and two people’s birthdays to celebrate. Mondays are our staff days and every single time I am reminded how unique and special this work environment is. We started our morning with a check in- honestly sharing how we are doing both with work things and personally. After 4 months of doing this it feels so comfortable and there is less and less that I hold back. Then after lunch and more meetings we commenced the birthday tradition of affirming the cumpleanero’s, each staff member taking a turn to thank the birthday girl/boy for the goodness they bring into our life. Ted,Ella and I sometimes stress out about these affirmations cause they are in Spanish. My heart beat speeds up as I try to think of what I want to say in Spanish and get more and more nervous for the moment when I will surely trip over my words and struggle to say everything I really mean. But then the affirmations start and I listen to the ways this team is a family, the love that exists, the way we really see each other and watch the faces of those who are being affirmed tear up, laugh, and listen closely to the others as they speak. And I just cannot believe how lucky I am to call this my job. Three hours later Trena reminds us how important this space is to what we do as a program, it is not a wasted afternoon but one that gives us the strength, basis of love and communication and gratitude we need to continue giving ourselves to each other and the program- and the fact that Kevin and Trena so deeply believe that is why this program does what it does.

            I dont how I got so lucky to spend this year here. And its not always easy. I miss home and friends. I struggle to understand how to accompany the students, to let go but also be there for them in the right balance. I get sick of the catcalls walking up the street, struggle with the machismo and miss spinach salads and greek yogurt. But… the Salvadorans remind me again and again why I am here. Why I came back and give me a glimpse into how this place continues to open and form my heart and seep into my blood. So grateful to visited the people I work with in their homes, to hear their stories, to feel like old friends with them, and tell them how amazing I think they are on their birthdays. I hope someday I can create a work environment like this for people in the states and I hope I can remember how much this stuff matters.

Home Away From Home for the 23rd Year

The first week and a half of the semester is orientation and we visit each of the praxis sites so students have a context when they are sharing stories and supporting each other through the semester. This semesters visits were really special for some reason and I cannot believe how at home I felt in each of the communities.

First we went to San Ramon- a Christian Base Community that was started after members of the community were pushed away by the hierarchy in the Catholic church which was exemplified by a priest that was more concerned with control and rules than compassion, relationship and supporting the Salvadoran people. The three coordinators of the praxis site were some of the first to move away from the church and worked together to create a space where the people could come together, celebrate their faith and feel welcome and at home- rather than judged. Their mission is to live out their faith, to truly walk with the people and they have a strong presence in some of the poorest communities in the country. In one of the communities we met Nina Auralia again- she is 85 years old and one of the strongest, most outspoken, hilarious, stubborn, amazing Salvadoran women I have ever met. She is everything the country tells women not to be- and for that I love her so much more. She told us about how she had her babies alone, she didn’t want anyone to see her face, she talked about raising her kids who have all gone off to live their own lives now and how her husband left a couple years ago and is waiting to dance with her in heaven. No explanation can do her justice but as I thought of her and everything she is I realized that San Ramon is a place that sets in front of me things as they should be rather than how society says they should be- and specifically the things that I tend to struggle with in the world- the church, gender roles, etc.

 Last semester I spent one day a week there leading a group of young girls, learning from Annita and just soaking up these inspiring people. Somehow they manifest so many things I struggle with- exactly how they should be. The way they live out their faith, walk with the people, welcome everyone, uplift women in their faith community and change the hierarchy is the living opposite of everything I struggle with in the church. The way Annita and Nina Aurelia are- strong, outspoken, loud, stubborn, defiant, brave-  everything this country tells women not to be in a way that makes me cringe. Hector- one of the coordinators is the most gentle, loving, caring men I have ever met- again all the things that often men do not appear to be in this country. I’m not sure exactly how to articulate it but I found comfort in realizing that San Ramon and the people there show me that things can be different, can be how they should be and we can be creators of hope like Annita teaches us.

Wednesday we went to Mariona where we made candles, did a meditation, gave each other messages and heard the painful stories of the Guardado family that has motivated them to committing their lives to finding peace and healing through art, meditation and massage. It felt like a retreat and again I felt so at home, so comfortable, so incredibly grateful for the way I get to spend this year. Lastly, Friday we went to the Quintanillas- they are a family of 13 who lived through some of the most gruesome parts of the war and now live out their experience in the way they love, their political involvement and the way they raise their kids. Their life is an amazing combination of older, campo style living and modern, city living. Rosa- the mom told us the story of loosing her 6 month old when a bomb exploded and landed in her heart as she was carrying her fleeing from the war. Then she told us how she lost her 5 year old when she went down a different path- towards the soldiers rather than away from them. As she told these stories I struggled to even begin to imagine the suffering of these people but felt overwhelmed with gratitude for their willingness to share that pain with us, to trust us to listen and hold something so deeply heart breaking. Then we danced, they played us music and we played games- as always engaging in this beautiful ability to hold both painful and joyful that exists in this country. And in each of these visits I felt overcome by gratitude, comfort, and a feeling of being at home and “with my gente” as Ted says. Being here makes the gears in my head turn way faster and lets my heart feel with the world in an entirely different way. I feel so alive, so close to what’s real and what matters and a burning desire to do something meaningful with my life, to follow the example of these people and keep them with me always- no matter where I am.

During our staff check in Monday morning I expressed feeling confused by how incredibly happy and at home I am here- because at the same time I am missing home. I feel far away from friends, last semester’s students, my family and my sweet new baby Coop. Sometimes I just look at pictures of him and cry- wishing I was closer and sometimes I spend too much time at the internet wanting to connect to that world. My month at home was an amazing reminder of the support I have there, the amazing friends who I can completely relax and be myself with, be silly and weird and have a blast and also talk about what matters in the world. And sometimes here I am aware of a lack of peers. Living abroad comes with that confusing tension- of missing home, and feeling like this is home, and feeling like my heart exists in multiple places- which makes it hard for it to be fully present in any one place.

On Tuesday I turned 23. I was showered in love and surprises- surrounded by this family and sent so much love from my family a few countries away. It was absolutely wonderful- and I also felt far away. I teared up when I talked to my mom on the phone- even though I haven’t spent a birthday with her in 5 years. And then laid in the hammock with Ella and talked about how we are still in transition to being back here. This place is home in so many ways- but we are still finding our way with our new students, getting to know them, understanding the dynamics and figuring out how to be CC’s in a new context. And I think I was craving the easy, close, completely at home feeling we had at the end of last semester and I have with so many people at home. But then I sat in the garden with Ted and Ella- my rocks here, the most constant and present home and support I have and just the best people in the world. And I skyped with Kylie, Jesse and Cooper and I felt better. We finished the evening with our first spirituality night where students share about their faith journeys and it felt really right to be ringing in the new year that way. That is what I love about this job, that is how we go from strangers to family, how we build community and home- by sharing where we are coming from, listening to each other and really holding each others experience.

Ted asked me how I was feeling about 23 the other day.. and part of me felt frustrated that I don’t feel completely whole and strong and sure about everything in my life, which I think is some silly thing the U.S. tells us is how we should be. I feel a little pulled between two places, fearful and stressed about the future and missing support and relationships that have changed and shifted in the past few weeks. But I think that is actually a really good way for me to go into this year. I am seeing this year as an invitation- to let support in, to be patient, to have faith and trust the way things work. I am on a forever journey of getting to know myself and logically I can tell you all of my strengths, weaknesses, vulnerabilities, challenges, etc- but my heart cant fully live out what I know I need in this life- and I think going into this year a little shaky is an invitation for me to let my heart find its way, to be patient to letting my heart and head come together. I’m not particularly good at letting people support me- and I think this year is an invitation to let people in, to find support internally and externally and not fill voids in unhealthy ways. Its an invitation to dive deeper into my faith, exploring my vocation, understanding how this country will stay with me as I move forward in my life, trusting myself, the people around me and the grace of so much that is beyond my control.

So as I feel simultaneously completely at home and far away from home I will settle into that- knowing that it is just right. Knowing that there is something more out there helping me find my way in this life- and that I am in exactly the right place to continue getting to know my self and my place in this world.

Long lost blogger back at it... more stories of El Salvador breaking open my heart.

While I was home someone asked me if I was doing any blogging- I responded with an array of excuses while I was reminded how much I really love writing and miss this space. Many times last semester I thought of getting back into the habit- but there is something about leaving and coming back that is intimidating.  For the past week and a half that I have been back in the country I have found myself yearning to share what is happening here again and again- so instead of continuing to think about it, Ill give it a shot. No promises that I will have time to make it regular- but the movements of my heart are worth documenting and the ways this country, these people and this program impact all who encounter them deserve to be spread…

My month off was spent seeing so many friends, being reminded of the life I don’t live and the ways I feel distant from home and feeling incredible grateful for the people in my life. I was in many different places physically and emotionally but left feeling like there were homes for me to come back to in May, souls that understood me, people I want to be able to give more of my time and my heart to and opportunities that are intriguing. A few people asked me if I would stay for longer than a year while I was home and I said no- almost unsure why. While I was there I felt distant from here, disconnected from what this place means to me- in the same way I often feel disconnected from there when I am here. I don’t like that- but I think it’s good that I know it, and it is something I want to continue exploring.

But for now- my heart is at home. Minutes after I landed in this country I was reminded what this place is to me. And in the past week and a half I have felt endlessly grateful for my time here, the family I have found and how much it has become home. Something amazing happens in this country and I know it is a combination of so many good things. Amazing Salvadoran people who are faithful, loving and vulnerable beyond belief + inspiring, committed leaders who understand this kind of education + students who are willing to accept the invitation + special spaces= something incredibly beautiful. And I have the privilege of calling all that my job my first year out of college- I don’t know how I landed here but I feel blessed beyond belief.

This semester Ted, Ella and I will all be living together in Romero with six amazing women. The program is exceptionally small this semester and when we first found this out a few months ago we struggled to reimagine what it would like to be CC’s in that context. But wow…. In the last three days it has become clear that we are in for something really special.  The closeness that is inevitable in a small group is already manifesting into a sense of safety, trust, care and joy. Living with Ted and Ella is an invitation to really learn to be a team player- to step back sometimes, to trust each other, to celebrate each other’s strengths, to be honest with one another and to be a part of the community in a new way.  There is so much unknown ahead of us and I am so excited to be apart of it unfolding.

My dear students last semester taught me so much and I will be such a better CC because of it. As I begin with these new students I know that each of them is a universe…of beauty, struggle, experience, wisdom, joy and so much to teach me. My students last semester taught me that, showed me the depths of their hearts in a way I could have never imagined the first days, they let me in, they helped me grow and held my heart in such a special way.  They proved to me that this amazing program and country really transform people- and that the grace that happens here is so far beyond my control.  Beginning with that knowledge is helping me to let go, to be genuinely me and to trust in the slow work, the process of unfolding that happens with such beauty.

Today we had our first day of praxis visits. We went to Zacamil and Tepecoyo- rural villages where strong, faithful women run the place (welcome to El Salvador). Deysi retold the story of her son’s accident when he decided to leave school so he could work for the family and provide them with something to eat. Just a few weeks after he began working he fell while cutting down a tree, landed on his head and was paralyzed from the waist down. I hate how short and simple that sounds because when it is told with details from him and his mother your whole heart feels it with them and breaks into so many pieces trying to understand what a horrible combination of things would lead to such suffering. Yet as you listen you always come to understand the faith that the people of this country rely on so deeply. Out of a necessity for something to keep them going, but also out of a true belief that their God is taking care of them, providing for them, loving them- even in the midst of the deepest suffering.

Hearing this story again and that the poverty in Tepecoyo is the worst it has been for years, that children are not eating, that mothers are breaking under the stress of not being able to provide for their children- I feel the same confused I have felt since I first met these women as a student two and a half years ago. Why? How? What the hell do we do? We tell the students that our main goal is to accompany- and I still argue with the part of my brain that wants to fix. The injustice is so much bigger, so much deeper and so much more complicated than what I can understand or what I can fix. And sometimes that is so overwhelming to understand.

This semester my time here really feels more finite and in that I feel myself yearning to understand how to carry this with me in an authentic, meaningful way. I see how easy it is to forget about this reality, to feel distant from Deysi and Yovani on the comforts of my warm couch in the states. And that is terrifying. These women- Deysi spending the whole day caring for her son, and Angelica- sacrificing everything to feed the children of her small canton- should go down in history as incredible heroines. Their names should be next to Gandhi, MLK, Rosa Parks and so many more. But instead they are in our hearts. And I guess we must learn to follow their example. Do the small, daily things that we can to bring goodness, life, joy, love, healing and nourishment to the people around us and trust that it will spread to our world. It is true for Deysi and Angelica- their example expires countless students who then carry them with them forever.

In the midst of accompanying a new group of students, wondering and stressing about what I will do next I think the most important thing is to be as present as I can possibly be to this place and what happens when we let break our hearts. I hope in the next four months I cant let this country seep into my blood until it can never leave again.