Last week: Remembering

By Faye Whiston

This past week we have been recovering from and reflecting on our 10 days spent in El Salvador. From speakers to hikes to beaches to bucket bathing, our trip provided us with lots to talk about. Moreover, our professors encouraged us to think about connections and similarities between the situations in Mexico and El Salvador.

With these ideas in mind, we spent our last religion class discussing the people that have impacted us each the most throughout the semester. We wrote down their names on puzzle pieces and took turns putting the pieces in the middle of a circle, each of us explaining why we chose the people we did. Some names were almost predictable—the outspoken women of feminist organizations, the strong support staff at CGE whose stories we’ve had the pleasure of hearing. But other names were much less noticed or well-known—a wise host father only some of us were able to meet, a character in a story we read, a professor we met the first week at orientation in El Paso. This activity enabled (or maybe forced) us to do what many of us will continue doing when we return to wherever home is—remembering.

Our last political science class had a similar goal of reflecting on this past semester. They, however, asked us to look to the future. The professors posed the question: “What have I learned this semester that will enable me to be a better global citizen?” We had some time to think about it and then we stood outdoors and took turns saying our piece. I spoke about how I feel like I have been wasting all my “power” or “privilege” by doing nothing. I am honestly not involved at all on my college campus and, coming here, I am a little embarrassed by that. Something specific that I hope to become involved in upon my return is immigration advocacy and policy work.

On Thursday we all presented our final projects about our time spent in El Salvador with a focus on how we will each best be able to share what we learned when we return to the States. To give you an idea of the different mediums people used, one student created a brochure to distribute at her university to raise awareness about the similarities between U.S.-El Salvador relations in the 1980s and 1990s and U.S.-Iraq relations today. Another student did a series of drawings in watercolor that touch on the brutality of the Salvadoran Civil War and our on interconnectedness to the earth. Some wrote speeches, another choreographed a dance, and another created a reflection journal for her little sister. It was a full-day affair and by the end I think we were all exhausted, relieved, and proud of our classmates.

We spent a lot of time our last day talking about reverse culture shock and what we can do to ease back into “American culture.” After the reorientation our professors came and surprised us with an informal and a bit tongue-in-cheek graduation ceremony. The interns Laura Litwiller and Julie Rogers worked to give us each very fitting “awards.” For instance, when they called me to get my diploma (in the form of a mini yearbook of sorts) they read “Warm and full of laughter, she might punch or poke you, but she’ll hug you right after!” Our ending for the semester was fitting—we all went out for el plato rico de pozole.

After that we went our separate ways. Most of us stayed and flew out on Sunday, some left sooner to travel, and some are traveling for much longer. As excited as I am to see my family and friends, I’m nervous to go back to a place I have been critiquing and, frankly, not liking very much for the past four months. On this balancing act, I wish my fellow classmates, my new sisters, all the luck I can muster (even though I know they don’t need any of it).

Our group on the last day of the program

Week 14-15: El Salvador

By Jerin Jones

Globalization in San Salvador

This week our group made the trip from Cuernavaca, Mexico to San Salvador, El Salvador where we begin our 10 day journey in a very special country. I want to create a visual understanding of the beautiful scenery that my eyes were given the privilege to see. San Salvador is much like any developed capital city: trees that lined blocks of franchised-dressed streets. To look up at the mountains rising from the horizon one could not escape the presence of the Burger King, McDonalds, and KFC signs that seemed to overtake the geographical wonders behind them. Moving from the low-lying capital city to the mountains of Morazon you entered a different world. The glimpse of pink and yellow hitting the peaks of the mountains as we arrived late afternoon to Morazon was only half-telling of the memories they carried with them. These very mountains upon which my eyes settled held the stories of the Civil War that consumed El Salvador for 12 years from 1979-1992. At night from our cabins you could see the stars in the sky casted like a netting of gnats, so tight together yet their individual presence shined as well. Many of the city girls (myself included) were overwhelmed by their first time of not being able to count the stars in our sky.

During this first week of travelling and lectures, we met with community activists, priests, former guerilla members of the Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (FMLN) and members of ARENA, the ruling political party for the last 20 years. There were two themes to me that kept coming up in conversation: political and social consciousness and dignity.

I was born in November 1986 in the middle years of the war. There are Salvadorans my age that do not remember a childhood without violence. Almost every family can say they lost one or more loved ones in the armed conflict in those 12 years. Priests and nuns were killed without hesitation because of their mission to support the pueblo or people of El Salvador. Civilian women, children, and men were killed mercilessly by their government with the financial backing of the USA. The pain and loss experienced through this civil war leads to the high level of political and social consciousness that was evident everywhere we went and through everyone we met. I would almost describe this consciousness as an intuition. The people I spoke with made clear that the memory of the armed conflict is what keeps this consciousness fresh and pressing. People are on the move in El Salvador. To them, everyday the struggle for the dignity of Salvadorans continues.

2 Crossing Borders '08 students looking at the Salvadoran Civil War Memorial for all of the people that disappeared or died during the war

Over this trip, dignity became one of those words that if asked to define you’d really have to think about and that might be easier to explain by just shooting off examples in place of the definition itself. I asked many community leaders their definition of the word of dignity and some of the responses were: a good quality of life, access to jobs, water, healthy food for families, basic education, health, a secure country (El Salvador has a high rate of violence), peace within their society, and open dialogue between the government and the people. The responses varied but these were some of the repeated themes. With this I will pose some questions to you: How would you define dignity? Is the request of a life with dignity too much to ask for? How far should one go to obtain it and keep it?

Students crossing a river in former FMLN territory in the Morazon in northern El Salvador