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!