J-E-R-E-M-Y

I wanted to fill you guys in on an exciting thing that happened in my life in the last weeks. From Monday May 18 until Monday May 25, my brother, Jeremy visited me here in El Salvador. He took time out of his summer to endure a language barrier, the heat and humidity, inundation with unfamiliar things, and rigorous physical demands to share a little piece of himself with me (and also my friends and communities) here and to take a little bit of El Salvador home with him. For both of us, I think, the rewards were worth the extra effort. I’m proud to say that my brother likes pupusas (the food unique to El Salvador), liquados (fruit drinks that are a staple to my diet here), hammocks (both an important income-generating product and the “bed” of families in Morazan), and that his Spanish ability tripled, quadruped, maybe even more in his time here. Ever intelligent, intuitive, and inquisitive, he asked important questions that set us both on a path of greater consciousness and wanting to know more about the factors that influence the lives of our neighbors in other countries. We took some time to take trips to see parts of El Salvador that even I had never visited, including a beach for snorkeling, a museum about the ways that faithfulness to the cause of the poor, hope, and love triumphed despite the atrocities of the civil war in El Salvador, waterfalls, and an outdoor food festival. My brother is such a good person with whom to spend time relaxing, see and try new things, and have adventures, that it was a pleasure to spend some leisure time with him.

Apart from the adventures we had that were a good break from my normal schedule here in El Salvador, I also thought it highly important for him to join me in a couple days in what I do normally day to day here. For me, this was one of the most meaningful parts of his stay—the chance to “introduce him” to my life here, to the communities where I work, and to the young people with whom I work. Mid-week, we visited 2 communities in different parts of Morazan named Yancolo and Naranjera. He was patient during the long busrides you must take to get there, and walking alongside of me as we chatted with the youth, he endured the fairly long walks to the communities. We talked explicitly about, and he had the chance to see first-hand, how its one thing to talk in “big psychology or theology terms” like auto-esteem and liberation when your in the sanctity of a classroom at Furman or with people who think like you do and have relatively comfortable lives. It is a different animal to find creative means to help the young people in the communities realize that they have value as loved creations, the very essence of the good psychology and theology can offer to the world.

An image remains with me, one that typifies how my brother, despite all the difficulties, emerged from every experience with a great attitude and also typifies how I believe that this experience of sharing life with the people in the ecclesial base communities of El Salvador has the power of changing your way of being, thinking, and doing. In the heat of Friday afternoon, we had just arrived at the house of a family in Naranjera, after a substantial and steep walk from the main road to the community in the mountains. I had a couple of minutes to prepare for a workshop that began at 3 that afternoon, and he took the opportunity to rest for a few moments in one of the families hammocks. I had not adequately advised him about the difficulty of the walk we had just completed, and the combination of the heat, walking, the unknown, and not being able to communicated like he is accustomed to had been a lot to handle. I had stepped out of the house to wash my face and perhaps a mango for a snack. As I came back to enter the house, I noticed my somewhat frustrated and tired brother surrounded by 3 little kids—Judith, the daughter of the woman we were staying with, her brother, and a friend. I was caught between wanting to distract them to give my bro some space to relax and wanting to give him the opportunity to experience the beauty of sharing life in the communities. But the decision was not left to me because, already, Jeremy was summoning all his Spanish abilities to talk with them. I paused outside the door for a moment watching as he and the little Judith shared words in a book, and as he taught her to read and pronounce some English words from the book. They worked together, he lying in the hammock with his book and she looking inquisitively over his should for several minutes, even until it was time to leave for the workshop. This beautiful scene I had the privilege of sharing with Jeremy, with whom not even an hour before, with all the difficulties of the day, I had questioned my motives of doing what I do and bringing him with me.

As I reflect on the special little moments like this of my brother’s experience here in El Salvador, I am grateful for Jeremy’s willingness to share his life this week with all my friends, young people, and communities here, his patience, and his openness to adventures, asking important questions, and learning new things. I miss him already!

What makes me smile...

“Jeni, we met again as a group, and the young people are excited, and they want to form a group that meets, and we want you to come to support us, and when can we plan a day?!?!” I had reached my limit of in-the-office work today (I’ve been back in the city for a week after a long time in the communities where I work with the young people), so I made some phone calls to some coordinators in the communities to plan the meetings and workshops for this month. Before I could even tell this young woman who I was, she was already bursting at the seams to tell me about how the group of youth has been meeting and has had some good discussions and is ready to be more organized and have more activities…and so on and so on. I was recharged right away—a much-needed burst of energy to keep working on the material for the workshops we have planned, collaborating with some of the coordinators to form agendas for meetings, and finding some funds for some special events we want to do this month—all in order to get back to the communities next week.

I have to tell you a little more about the community and group of young people in the community of the girl with whom I talked. The community’s name is Copante and is the closest of 5 of our communities in the very rural area of Morazan to a bus stop. That means that every time I want to go to the other 4 communities, I walk first past this community. When I have time to stop, I do and chat with the ladies who run the little store located a stone’s throw from the school in the community or with the families working in the fields closest to the road. When I don’t have time to stop, nevertheless I know I walk by with a smile on my face remembering the special moments that I have already shared with that community, with the teeming interest of the youth in activities, discussions, and readings that will benefit them, how the women’s cooperative are working so hard to turn their 200+ chicken project into a success, and even how I ate 8 mangos in just one morning because I couldn’t say no to any of the kids who kept wrestling the mangos down from the trees to give to me.

I arrived in Copante for the first time in late February and I got the tour of the central houses and of the community’s prize project—the construction of the first church and meeting center that has ever been built in the community. When I first saw it in February, it was a heap of newly-dried adobe bricks and I remember thinking that it would be months before the project was completed, especially with the impending rains. When I returned to the community the Monday after Easter, the group of young people directed me to the new sight of the day’s activity—the new church that had been finished and inaugurated the previous day for the community’s first Easter celebration service. I could grasp a little bit of what the newly complete project meant for the community because I remembered how many times the young men had arrived at meetings with clay caked to their feet and pants up to their knees as they had spent the day making adobe bricks. I had visited house-to-house with the youth inviting new youth to the activities and answering parents’ questions and emphasizing that ALL were invited (its not important if your family is Catholic or Evangelical, FMLN or ARENA), and been able to say that our first meeting of the month would be in the newly-constructed place where ALL the community is invited.

Copante is a community of 80 homes, with between 2 and 3 families living each home. If you are standing on a nearby peak, you can seen that the expanse of the land that is Copante covers 2 and a half mountain peaks. I got to stand on that peak, because one morning last month we visited house to house half of the homes in the community and have planned to visit the other half the 15th of this month. Few of the youth there study, but the youth coordinator, a young lady named Idalia is one of the few who has continued in her studies. Each Saturday, she walks to the bus stop at 4:30am to attend school in the pueblo Caocaopera all day and returns in the night. She will finish high school in about 2 more years of this distance- Saturday-classes. Its very important that the youth meet with some consistency on there on, and have asked for some material to help them with themes for their meetings. Idalia will begin leading them through a text called “Accompanying the youth with values like Monsenor Romero” which has guides for leading reflections about themes like liberty, service, happiness, and perseverance. I just flipped to the contents page of the book sitting beside my computer here, and the first theme is “life”…a good starting point for any process of youth formation.

I want to end this reflection with an image, another one of those that makes me smile, both when I enter the community to stay a while and when I am passing by en route to another. An image that ties together my own childhood with the lives of the kids here. Its “Padre Abraham”—ring any bells? The young people of all ages LOVE the song “Padre Abraham” (“Father Abraham”) which I used to sing when I was a kid, and they think its hilarious when they sing in Spanish at the same time that I sing the song in English. Pumping our arms in the air, bobbing our heads, spinning around…all the motions “…right arm, left arm, right foot, left foot…” included.