Vacation into Retreat

We had a lovely week, my sister Kathy and I, driving down and up the west coast with Robert Caro's Passage to Power on the iPod, visiting cousins, and revisiting our childhood days at the Hahn family vacation home in Dutch Flat, California (it's on the road to Lake Tahoe).  Our cousins Margie and Mike Jager and Dowrene Hahn welcomed us to a home that looked very much as it had when we were all young, right down to the exact shade of dark green paint.  The town hasn't changed much either: the store is still where it's always been, the old hotel, now restored, looks ready for visitors, and the swimming hole, which was really a hole in our days, is now properly concreted and tiled and chlorinated, but it still keeps the old irregular shape.  What a rare satisfaction!  I'm far more used to trying to remember what used to be on a familiar corner that's suddenly sprouted a 10-story building.

Dutch Flat is an old mining town set into a dry Sierra forest of Ponderosa pine, western red cedar and fir, a spare and beautiful landscape that in summer is reliably sunny - a pleasure for northwesterners who'd been going through the usual Seattle soggy June.  Here we are in the forest, visiting the grave of my uncle and aunt, George and Dot Hahn.

We managed to visit other cousins, Margaret Rooker and Emilie Sturges Hance, along the way, and we had a grand family time.

Tomorrow I begin the other much-anticipated week of my U.S. time, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace community retreat here at St. Mary-on-the-Lake.  A week without all my electronic toys will be very good for me, and a week of silence even better.  Even the weather is cooperating, as a sunny wave began on the 4th and will - in theory - last through the retreat week.  I'll be back to blogging afterwards.

Checkups

It's been a long, long week with lots of meetings and events, little time for blogging.  The highlight of the week was seeing our eye surgery patients arrive in Dra. de Burgos' office for their post-surgery checkups.  I always worry about patients finding the office - I think because it's often hard for me to find places in El Salvador, and because the office is on the 2nd floor of a small building on a very busy street in Santa Tecla.  But no problem for our patients, who either got on the parish bus in San José Villanueva or had the good sense to phone Cecilia, Dra. de Burgos' friendly and capable assistant, for directions.  Everyone got there in good time, and almost all are doing very well.  As usual, a few will need additional laser surgery.

I always enjoy watching the patients connect with each other - there's a cameraderie and cheerfulness that makes me think they are pleased with themselves for having the courage to have surgery and come out with better vision.  The two men in this photo were enjoying telling stories to Elvira Chicas, our volunteer coordinator at San José Villanueva:

One very special note this year: we included Cecilia's grandfather in our surgery list, and he came to the post-op with his daughter, Cecilia's mom, and great-grandson, Cecilia's son David.  Here's all four generations of Cecilia's family:

I'm awestruck by Cecilia: she gets up at 3:30 every morning to get on the bus at 5:30 so she can get to the office by 8:00 - she lives a long way away in Nahuizalco.  Then after the office closes, she reverses the process, getting home by 8 pm to put a quick meal on the table and fall into bed.  Her mom takes care of David and her daughter Camila.  But I can't imagine how she can manage this schedule and be - as she always is - cheerful, helpful, and upbeat.

Alejandrito at 2

My godson Alejandro Emanuel Alvarenga - aka Alejandrito or Junior - turned two last week, and like two-year-olds the world over he has joyfully discovered the word NO, and when Alex, Ani, Alejandrito and I went for a walk he was very determined to walk ahead of us, on his own if you please, until we got close to the busy streets and the parents took over.

Other than issuing the necessary NO from time to time, he seems to be an entirely happy boy. Here he is with his birthday truck, which makes lots of noises - quite satisfactory. What fun to watch this little guy grow up.

Richard at home

The last few days have been full of wonderful events and meetings, material for more blog posts than I've had time to write (they'll come along later this week). One of the best times was visiting young Richard Stanley and his mom Mari in their home in San Rafael Cedros. I went with Iris Alas, our San Rafael coordinator, her daughter, and Sergio, one of the community volunteers and Mari's uncle. Richard's new heart valve seems to be behaving well, though getting the medications right has been a challenge. He looks good - more color and more energy than before - and he continues to be a truly squiggly 3-year-old with no interest in having his picture taken. I sneaked in this one when he wasn't looking at me. Mari told me that when all the kids in the hospital were having their pictures taken, Richard was the only one who would have none of it.

Richard and Mari live in the midst of a big Salvadoran family, with Mari's mother and three sisters and a brother and a big bunch of cousins, mostly boys. The family put together the classic almuerzo (luncheon): sopa de gallina india (country hen soup) with a bit of the grilled gallina and salad on the side, with fresh tortillas. It was glorious, and we ate until we could hardly waddle. A great way to celebrate Richard's new life!

Families

Getting back into connection here in El Salvador, I made a bunch of visits yesterday. I went to Soyapango to see my almost-two-year-old Godson, Alejandro, who has definitely made the move from baby to boy. He's also gotten less shy in the two months I've been away, so I got plenty of smiles, one of them captured here. In the capital I visited with Armando, our Bajo Lempa friend with the fruit orchard and pig farm (he's now added chickens to his mix).

Then I drove to San Juan Opico to visit Sonia and her children. I translated, as best I could, a letter from Dr. Dale Heisinger expressing his sorrow at the death of her daughter Gema, and she gave me a letter she had written for Dr. Dale. You can feel the loss and sadness in the family, especially in Sonia and Julia, now the oldest child, but they've also moved back into the daily rhythms of work and play. Sonia and Julia were working together on making jewelry when I came in; Jarrison was playing in a doctor outfit that Sonia had found in a 2nd hand store, and Kelly was a tiny charmer, as always. The milpa that surrounds their house is full of high-as-an-elephant's-eye corn, the pila is full of water from the rains, and the fruit trees are bearing. Life ongoing.

Four generations

Last November my great-niece Amy gave birth to Addyson Kayanne Skalisky, the first of her generation in my family, and on Saturday we had a family gathering to meet this 4-month-old charmer and take a photo of four generations: in the group photo, Grandma Joanne, Great-great-aunt Kathy (my sister), Amy, Addy, and Great-great-aunt Susan. Shocking though it is to become a great-great-aunt, it sure was fun to meet the newest and to think about all that lies ahead in her life! May she have many joys and many adventures.

We also got to visit with Addy's Aunt Cara (above with Addy) and Uncle Jacob, with Great-Aunt Sally and Great-Uncle Gary and first cousins once removed Corina and Katie... And we had the fun of revisiting family baby songs and games, of catching up with each others' doings, of applauding Corina in her gorgeous prom dress and seeing Katie's drawings, of being family. I'm grateful, always, to belong to a family that loves and enjoys each other. What a blessing, and what a blessing for Miss Addyson.

A medley of friends

Today's odd and delightful mixture of meetings and meals reminds me why it's so essential to come back home. I had breakfast with the Sisters (my favorite cereal that Sr. Rose Anna gets for me when I'm back accompanied by a dish of glorious rhubarb sauce that Sr. Joan set out for me), then met with Sue Nies, co-director for our CSJP Associates on the west coast, to talk about ideas for the new Associate program - we opened the Constitutions and Bible and our new magazine, Living Peace, and had a grand time finding resources and making connections.

Then I dashed over to Seattle to have coffee with Lisa Dennison, a good friend from St. Patrick Parish. We talked joyfully over lattes about Ignatian spirituality, the enneagram, our families and a million other subjects. And I dashed back to Bellevue for the monthly lunch of women from the Queen Anne High School (Seattle) class of 1959 - great hugs from some dear lifelong friends and the puzzle of trying to remember what I ought to know about some classmates I haven't seen since we graduated.

Then I drove peacefully back to St. Mary-on-the-Lake where Sister Sukyi Hur treated me to a wonderful hour of acupuncture, massage, and reflexology, designed to strengthen my lungs and soothe an aching shoulder. Renewed, I stopped at PeaceHealth's System Office, in Bellevue, to pick up a reconstructed computer and connect with some fellow staffers. And then I took my nephew Dan Roben out to dinner at The King and I, a long-time Bellevue favorite Thai restaurant.

How could a day hold more than this? Time with friends, Sisters and Associates, family, my PeaceHealth community, food and coffee and conversation, and even acupuncture - what riches! Best of all, I didn't have to stop for a minute to wonder how to say something - I just opened my mouth and English naturally flowed out.

Don't get me wrong - I'm looking forward to going back to my other home in Suchitoto on Saturday, revisiting my Salvadoran friends, basking in the tropical sunshine and continuing the struggle to say it right in Spanish. But I'll go back strengthened and filled by the joys of friendship, community and connection.

Feliz cumpleaño

Yesterday we had a little first birthday party for my godson, Alejandro Alvarenga, a week before his actual birthday, since I'll be in the U.S. then (flying up this Saturday, Sept. 18th and returning Oct. 16th). Alejandrito is now launching himself on brief, breathless totters between one adult and the next, and by the time I'm back he'll be running full out. He enjoyed his present, a turtle pull-toy that plays music when you push buttons (Ani is going to be awfully tired of those tunes in two weeks), but what he really enjoyed most was the wrapping paper, which was fun to eat, and the plastic cups I let him bang around. Why do we even bother buying presents for babies? I'd have to admit that we do it for ourselves. He did get properly involved in his cake, as you can see, and enjoyed playing with Margaret Jane and Korla and me and his folks, and we all had a grand time. You can't quite see it, but the cake is appropriately decorated, in blue, with Feliz Cumpleaño (thank you, Pan Lilian) for that precious one-and-only first year.

Across the generations

Over a hundred years ago my grandmother was widowed in rural California with three young children, a tiny pension from my grandfather's service in the Civil War (we have long generations in my family), and the skill as a seamstress she'd learned in England. Working as a seamstress and taking in laundry when she had to, she managed not only to make a life for her little family, but to send each of her three children through college and on to graduate school. She's one of my heroes, Catherine Gibson Hahn, Cassie.

I thought of Cassie many times yesterday, as Dina Duvon and I had the joy of helping Sonia, a single mother of four, get a really serious sewing machine. Sonia has been surviving by selling used clothes, and sometimes has used her old treadle sewing machine - which Cassie could have used - to make clothes. With the help of a couple of wonderful donors, I have been able to bring groceries to the family for a few months, and when I asked Sonia what could help her to make the family more stable, she said she would be able to make much more money if she had a really good sewing machine.

So yesterday we went down to El Centro, the downtown core of El Salvador, and while the gringa stayed in the car (I had a feeling that my presence would raise the price instantly) Dina and Sonia found an amazing machine which we crammed into the 4Runner and installed in Sonia's tiny hut of lamina (sheet metal) with the help of the store's mechanic - here he is in the photo, putting in the finishing touches.

This is no fairy tale: we are still hoping to find better housing for this family, which lives on the edge of a zone of lead contamination and in a battered and unhealthy setting. One of Sonia's daughters has a serious autoimmune disorder, and the others have parasites from the bad water (they'll get a water filter when we bring more down in November). There's no telling whether the sewing machine really will help Sonia to lift her family out of direst poverty. And Sonia is only one among the many, many single parents, mothers mostly, who struggle endlessly to keep tortillas on the table, who love their children and hope for a better future for them. But remembering Cassie, I choose to believe in Sonia and in the strength of women.

La casa de la abuela

This week I went with my godson, Alejandro, and his parents, Ani and Alex, to visit Alex' mother who lives outside the community of Santa Isabel Ishuatán, high in the hill country of the Cordillera de Balsamo. We had a fine time at la casa de la abuela, grandmother's house, eating our way happily through a continual feast of the best country life has to offer. Doña Francesca started us off with atole de elote, a soup of fresh sweet corn flavored with cinnamon and accompanied by ears of fresh corn. A little later Alex cut down some coconuts, and we enjoyed coconut water and meat. Almuerzo, the main meal, came at about 3 PM and featured a chicken who'd recently been running around, rice, vegetables, tortillas, a salsa de chile, and fresh cheese that Doña Francesca made as we watched.

Then it was time to make tamales de elote, fresh corn tamales, which are delicious. Doña Francesca is an old hand at these, and she taught Ani to make them. I tried the art, too, and feel a little sorry for anyone who got one of my understuffed and messy tamales. Along with beans and rice, the tamales were the centerpiece of supper. I fell into bed feeling like a stuffed tamale myself.

Doña Francesca's house and farm were full of flowers which attracted an amazingly diverse group of butterflies, fruit trees (mango, coconut, orange and many more), and fields - a small milpa for corn and a rice field. Like all the Salvadoran homesteads I've visited, her farm is a celebration of diversity where livestock (chickens, geese and a rabbit), grain crops, fruit crops and vegetables grow in happy abundance. According to the measurements of the U.S.A., Doña Francesca would be poor, and her life has been hard in many ways. But she has been a nurturer of life, both in her farm and in her family: 19 years ago, in her 50s, she adopted a baby whose mother couldn't afford to bring him up, an addition to her family of eight, and Wilson is now finishing his high school degree, hoping to study law at the University. That generosity of life and spirit, which I meet again and again in El Salvador, is a richness beyond economic price.

Oh yes, and I also had a wonderful time playing with Alejandrito, who likes nothing better than to go walking with someone holding his hands. Balancing: what a challenge! But he'll soon be off on his own.

Children in El Salvador

Last week La Prensa Grafica, one of the major newspapers here, ran a sad graphic. It showed a World Bank index of the opportunities offered to children in health, education, and housing among the different countries of Latin America. Chile led the list, followed by Uruguay, Mexico, Costa Rica, Venezuela and Argentina. These countries cover 90% or more of the basic needs of children. Down at the bottom are four Central American countries: Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and - at the bottom - Honduras, where only 50 to 60% of those basic needs are covered.

A report on child labor was also released this week from the Ministry of the Economy here, which concluded that about 10% of Salvadoran children between 5 and 17 work, many of them on family farms or in family businesses. There's a good report on this in Tim's El Salvador blog, and a link to the original study.

Statistics tell a grim story, but there's another story, just as important. I visited a family today that we'd met in our February clinics in San Juan Opico. As so often here, this family with four children between the ages of 11 and 4 is headed by a single mother (the father walked out two years ago and hasn't been heard of since) who works in the informal economy, reselling used clothes, to try to put food on the table. They live in great poverty in a borrowed house made of tin sheeting propped together. But the mother sends all of her children to school (except the four year old - he'll go next year). She knows that education is the only hope for her children to escape the net of poverty, and she's determined that they will be educated.

Baptism

Alejandro Emanuel was duly baptized today - and as the madrina (godmother) I got to hold him and name him as the padre baptized him en nombre de Padre, y de Hijo, y de Espiritu Santo. As you can see from this photo, he was looking so angelic that it's no surprise to find a halo in the picture.

It was only on Friday that a friend told me it was my responsibility as godmother to come up with the white garment that those to be baptized must wear. Happily, I remembered the seamstresses at the Concertación de Mujeres workshop here in Suchitoto, and asked if someone would make me a white garment for a 6 month old boy. A day later, Irma handed over a beautiful little suit in white cotton, embroidered in yellow. A bit big for Alejandrito at present, but he will grow into it.

The baptism took place at the Cathedral, where babies are baptized every Sunday after the parents and godparents go through a two-hour charla, or lesson about the meaning of baptism and our responsibilities. I have always loved the part of the ritual where the priest says "You have become a new creation, and have clothed yourself in Christ. See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity. With your family and friends to help you by word and example, bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven." What a perfect image of the deep integrity of being that lives within each of us, how ever rumpled and confused our lives may become! And it's good that I knew the words well, because between the traffic around the cathedral, the crying of some babies (not Alejandro) and hearing the rite in Spanish for the first time, I probably would have missed the point.

It's a wonderful honor to be a madrina, to be comadre with Ani, and to be now a part of the family. Ani's brother, Jose Antonio, is the padrino, and Alex' mother, Pancita, was there to witness the event. And we will all take seriously our responsibility to help this little boy grow in his Christian dignity.

El ahijado

I had a great visit today with el ahijado, my godson Alejandrito (and of course with his parents Alex and Ani as well). We'll be going in to the cathedral in San Salvador for his baptism (and a little coaching for the godparents) on Sunday. Meanwhile, here's a photo of the gorgeous guy, six months old, healthy as a boy can be, and happy as a boy should be who's so abundantly loved. Alex said today that he'd been told there was only a 20% chance of Alejandro's survival, given the grave difficulties Ani suffered during pregnancy. The grace and blessing of his well-being and his mother's regained health is visible in them all.

The saddest funeral

On Thursday Margaret Jane and I went to the saddest funeral either of us has ever been to. Six hearses were drawn up in front of the church (there were seven men killed in Monday's mass shooting in Milingo, but one was buried in another part of the country). Six coffins were lined up at the altar, each one attended by weeping mothers, fathers, wives, girlfriends, children, friends. The church was full. After the mass, everyone walked in procession to the cemetery, about a mile away, where the six men were buried, where the grief of the families and the community cried aloud.

Now the families of Milingo's dead are praying a novena for their dear ones. This begins and ends with a full night of prayer, usually the rosary, and the prayers continue through the nine nights. Like sitting shiva in the Jewish tradition, the novena gives a formal time and space to grieving.

We have little more information about the crime, except that apparently all were shot by M-16s, and it's clear that the murderers knew where to find their victims, who were at a remote pond. Whatever the reason, it has become another shocking statistic here, where 51 people were murdered in the first 72 hours of February. For the people of Milingo it's not a statistic; there are seven sons who won't come home again, seven faces that won't be seen again, seven families wondering why and wondering if there will be any justice.

Mi familia

Yesterday, very early in the morning, I put my sister, Kathy Roben, and cousin, Margaret Rooker, on the plane headed for Seattle, where they've arrived safely. What a grand time we had together! The first photo shows the two of them at our cabin along the Ruta de las Flores, feet up and enjoying the cool mountain breezes; the second was taken in downtown San Salvador as they visited with Estela Garcia, a long-time friend of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, and Estela's father, mother, and young nephew Luis Alfredo.

Introducing the family I've loved all my life to some of the places and people I've come to love in El Salvador was a great joy. It's good to know that Kathy and Margaret will now have vivid images in their mind's eye when they call or write to me - and that many of my friends here have now experienced these tall, gentle, friendly women.

Comings and Goings

Very, very early this morning Kathy and Amalia and Randy got into a van headed for the airport, with all the materials for a video about cataract surgery in Randy's camera. I'm looking forward to the finished product, which will have its debut during our February general medical mission in San Juan Opico.

Now I'm about to get into the car to head for the airport, where my sister, Kathy Roben, and cousin, Margaret Rooker, will soon be arriving. The sheets are washed and on the beds, the rooms are clean, and I am very delighted to be welcoming my family to my adopted country.

Missing mothers

Yesterday in conversation I started telling some of the many stories I've heard about families in El Salvador where the mother is living in the United States and the children are living with relatives. A Salvadoran friend recently visited her mother, whom she'd not seen for eight years, in the central US. The mother of a young girl I know lives in Virginia with her new family; her Salvadoran daughter is being raised and loved by her grandmother, aunts and cousins. Another Salvadoran immigrant became a mother after she was raped on her journey through Mexico, something that happens almost routinely to undocumented migrant women: she sent her son home to his grandmother, who is raising him.

These are just a handful of what must be thousands and hundreds of thousands of similar stories, only the ones I've heard from the Salvadorans I know well. Imagine the toll it takes on children to know that their mother has chosen to live in another country, even for good economic reasons; imagine the toll on the family, that most central institution of Latino society, that so many mothers and fathers are connected to their families only by the telephone and wired money.

Imagine how these broken families may connect to a new report from the United Nations Development Program saying that Central America is the most violent region of the world, "drowning in violence."

Meet Alejandrito

Yesterday I met my very tiny new godson, Alejandro Emanuel Alvarenga (at this point, the name is a bit longer than he is) for the first time. Here he is with his adoring dad, Alex. Alejandro was born a few weeks premature, but he's doing well, gaining a little weight, and seeming quite contented with the world he finds himself in.

Ani Paula, his mom, continues to feel weak and low in energy after her long stay in the hospital and Caesarian surgery. Please keep her in your prayers as she recuperates.

Almost

It strikes me that postings may be scarce the next few days as the move happens. Everything's scarce at this point. I made salad, but the salad bowl is packed. Vilma brought flowers, but the vases are packed. The photos and paintings and santos, the dishes and tablecloths, the books and bowls and utensils are hidden away in rubbermaid tubs. So in lieu of decor, here's a photo of morning sweepings from a courtyard in Suchitoto.

We had a grand time last night - dinner with Dra. Daysi Ramirez Chicas, a long-time friend of Grace and Eleanor, and with all Daysi's family - her husband, two sisters and their husbands, her mother and father, and - star of the show - her niece, beautiful three-year-old Alejandra Sofia, full of life and bounce. We ate pupusas and empanadas and talked and talked while Alejandra danced rings around us all. Salvadoran family life at its most beautiful - it was a joy to be included.

And I had a grand time of another sort this morning, carrying on an argument with my Amnet representative about just what sort of documents I had to present to get my phone hooked up: a grand time only because the argument happened on the phone, and I said my piece fully, and with feeling. Don't know that it did much good, but it was satisfying to have reached the point when I can do more than sputter on the phone.

Island Time

In the past week I've had two island days - a visit to Lopez Island, when Andrea Nenzel and I brought a new computer to Judy Tralnes, seeing trumpeter swans and newborn lambs and the old Center Church along the way, and a visit to Whidbey Island with my sister, Kathy Roben. Kathy and I drove the length of the island, from the ferry dock to the roiling waters of Deception Pass, with stops at Fort Casey and other parks for walks with Dakota, a Chinese Crested pooch being dog-sat by Kathy. The day was sunny, the waters of Puget Sound were still and gray and beautiful. Those islands are two of my favorite places in the world, where the crazy pace of life in the USA seems to quiet down, where there's time for beachcombing and long talks and funny coffee bars with book swaps.

The salt waters that fold around Lopez and Whidbey Islands are the same waters that beat along the beaches of El Salvador - though they're surely warmer waters by the time they get to Central America. Maybe when I go back, I'll take time to visit some of El Salvador's islands and find the rhythm of their island time.