Images from Calle Real

Most of these photos need no words: they were taken between 1985 and 1988 at the Calle Real Refugee Camp outside San Salvador, and show children at school, on a walk, at first communion, and at an improvised concert. Some of those children - now adults with children of their own - were hugging Andrea and Margaret Jane today.

The last photo is an image from the memorable day when Archbishop Rivera y Damas, the successor to Archbishop Romero, visited Calle Real, so that he could see with his own eyes and testify to the authorities that it was indeed a refugee camp, and not a place where guerrillas were operating. And, of course, that's Hermana Margarita (Margaret Jane) greeting him.

Just visiting

I picked up Andrea Nenzel, Hermana Andrea, at the airport on Monday, and since then I've been privileged to be part of some wonderful visiting and story-telling.

Andrea and Margaret Jane Kling opened the Calle Real refugee camp in 1985, during the height of the Civil War in El Salvador. The camp, on land owned by the Archdiocese of San Salvador, became a place of refuge for many families displaced by the war; Andrea and Margaret Jane accompanied them, working with the Salvadorans to keep the camp healthy and fed and to keep the community safe. They worked with staff from the Archdiocese, and yesterday one of their favorite colleagues, Gabina Duvon de Garcia, came to lunch. Gabina, or Dina as she's usually called, is one of my favorite colleagues too - she still works for the Archdiocese' Pastoral de Salud office and was my main contact for our mission in San Juan Opico. Her connections with Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace span a quarter century, so it was no challenge to keep the conversation flowing.

Many of the Calle Real refugees resettled rural communities in the Suchitoto area, and today we went to visit two of those communities, Marianela Garcia (named for a human rights advocate who was killed during the Civil War) and El Bario. In each place, Andrea and Margaret Jane found many friends, got abundantly hugged, caught up on children and grandchildren, looked at old photos and remembered stories from the Calle Real days. And I captured a few of those moments on camera. I also photographed a few Calle Real photos, but those are for the next post.

El Domingo de los Ramos

Here it's the Sunday of the Branches (ramos) not Palm Sunday, but - on the other hand - the palms are freshly cut and abundant. As Margaret Jane and I were waiting for the procession, people came by and handed us big bunches of palms and then a stalk of golden seeds, coyo was the name, I think. Properly be-palmed, we headed for Santa Lucia just far enough ahead of the procession to get a seat.

The church was more than full, as it always is at the big feasts, and when two men carried the image of Jesus up the aisle in a cloud of incense, it was grand to see that Jesus, too, was holding palms. The long and beautiful liturgy followed, and together we all began the celebration of Holy Week.

New voices in Suchitoto

Last night Margaret Jane (newly back from New Jersey) and I went to the Centro Arte para la Paz for the presentation of Voces de los Cerros, Voices of the Hills, a collective theatrical work created by Suchitoto youth working with a group of theatre professionals from the Shakespeare Festival of Stratford, Ontario.

It was a glorious presentation. Using every angle of a simple wooden stage, the actors leapt, danced, talked and sang a saga involving the gods, hunters, tricksters and villagers. Beautifully staged, it showed off the talents and abilities of Suchitoto's young people, polished to production level in only six weeks.

We're promised more to come: Suchitoto Stratford: ESARTES is a new school of theatrical arts here, and will be adding its luster to Suchitoto's reputation as an arts center.

Coffee blossoms

No, I don't mean cherry blossoms, which are glorious now in Seattle, my home town. Here in El Salvador, it's coffee blossom time. Yesterday, as I was driving to the mountain village of Comasagua, a glorious drive along the ridge of the Cordillera del Balsamo, I saw the white flowers everywhere, a cheerful sight at this hottest and driest time of the tropical year.

This photo was taken on my way back from Comasagua to Santa Tecla. On the way back to Comasagua from El Rosario, the colonia where we left the wheelchair, I gave a ride to a woman and boy and a sack full of banana leaves. I assumed they were family, but the woman asked to be set down along the way to the main road, and the boy (and sack) stayed with us until we got to the main road. I took Rosa and the two men with us back into Comasagua, then headed down the road again. There was the boy, just where I'd left him, and the sack. He was delighted to have a ride to Santa Tecla, where he was going to sell his banana leaves in the market (they're used for wrapping tamales).

Along the way, we got to know each other a bit. His name is Daniel, he's 13 years old and just finishing the first grade. He's one of 12 children, and goes down to Santa Tecla once or twice a week to sell the banana leaves - I'm sure to make his contribution to the family. He wanted to know about all the things I had the use of - the car, the car's radio, the iPod. Were they mine? What did they cost? Had I ever been on a plane? Couldn't I drive the car instead? (I said it would take a long time to drive through Mexico and then the United States. He said, two days? I said, more like six days - but in truth, I have no idea.) What did a plane ticket cost? I told him, and he was stunned.

When I saw some blossoming coffee ahead, I told Daniel I wanted to take a photo and asked him if he would hold the coffee blossom for me. He wasn't altogether sure about this, but he cooperated, and here he is. Our conversation brought home for me, once again, the outrageous richness that I can make use of, and the depth of poverty and limitation that is still the overwhelming experience of most people in El Salvador. I wonder if Daniel will ever be able to drive a car or get on a plane. I hope he will, but only if he can have those possibilities without losing what's precious in his world - family and community closeness, shared responsibility, trust.

What I do....

I'm often asked by people in our mission teams just what I do when they're not around. There's no predictable pattern to my days, but this week is a good example of the mix.

Monday Peggy O'Neill picked me up at the airport. I went home and unpacked and slept long and late.

Tuesday I made up a depressingly long to-do list for the week and wrote a formal report about our mission in San Juan Opico for the Medical Board (Junta Vigilancia de la Profesión Médica) and a formal request for permission to hold our cataract surgery week at San Rafael Hospital in May. Sounds simple, but because it all had to be written in Spanish - and, it's to be hoped, in proper Spanish - it took all the morning. In the afternoon I drove to the little community of Huisisilapa, about an hour east from Suchitoto, to give a pass-through donation to Ylda and her family, and then drove west and north to El Paraiso, where I talked with Rosita, who receives a regular donation from friends in PeaceHealth.

Wednesday I got up early to get to the Mass for Archbishop Romero in San Salvador, which was supposed to start at 7 AM. I took a wrong turn on the way and got outrageously lost, didn't arrive until almost 8 AM, but the liturgical readings were just beginning, so I was there for most of the Mass and part of the march. After that I went to the Loyola Center, a Jesuit retreat house, to make reservations for our May eye surgery group during the week, and to the Hotel Novo to make reservations for the weekend. I drove out to Santa Tecla to visit with Doctora Ana Vilma de Burgos, an ophthalmologist and our sponsor for the eye surgery group. Asked her to write the formal sponsorship letter for SEE, International, the group that provides the inter-ocular lenses and all the surgery materials for us. I also showed her our cataract surgery video, in which she stars. Somewhere in there, I managed to eat lunch, pay the internet/phone/cable bill and get a haircut.

Thursday I worked at our office at the Centro Arte para la Paz in the morning, catching up on e-mails and on everyone's goings-on. In the afternoon I had a visit from Maira, who was our major coordinator for a mission three years ago in Tamanique, and Mercedes who coordinated our Comasagua mission last year. Maira had asked me if PazSalud could help a man in her community who had lost his leg in an accident and needed a prosthesis to keep on working. Half of the cost will be carried by FUNTER, La Fundación Teletón Pro Rehabilitación, but he had to find the other half, and that was difficult, because he was out of work. We agreed to contribute a part of his cost, and he was able to put together the rest. Maira and Mercedes were here to get our check for FUNTER. Next week I'll be able to meet Alex and his new leg - I'm looking forward to it.

Thursday was the Feast of the Annunciation - and in addition to attending Mass at Santa Lucia at 5 PM, I watched the video of Oscar Alvaro's ordination as a priest, which his sister Martha left for me. Both were beautiful celebrations.

Today I drove up to Comasagua, almost two hours from Suchitoto, where I met with Nubia to deliver some assistance to her very poor family and then with Rosa, our great local volunteer during our missions in Comasagua and San Juan Opico (Rosa is now our best expert on organizing the eyes clinic). Rosa had asked me to bring back a wheelchair for a woman in the small Comasagua community of El Rosario, and thanks to the Bellingham Lions Club, it was part of my baggage on the flight to El Salvador. Rosa and two helpers from the Alcaldia in Comasagua and I bumped very slowly down about 10 kilometers of rocky road to El Rosario and delivered the wheelchair to Rosa Anelida, who has been bed bound for some time. The chair is going to allow her to get around in her small house and to sit on on the veranda where she can watch what's going on in her world. Then we bounced slowly back to Comasagua, giving Daniel and his mother a ride (that's a story for another post...tomorrow). I drove back down the gorgeous mountain road from Comasagua to Santa Tecla, where I had an errand in Hospital San Rafael. The Director's secretary was supposed to have Dra. de Burgos' sponsorship letter ready for me - but she hadn't been able to find last year's letter, and I hadn't thought to bring a copy. That letter is a key part of the application to the Medical Board for the cataract surgery mission. So instead of taking them the report on the medical mission and the application, I just took the report. Since the Medical Board is located on one of the most impossibly complicated corners in San Salvador, that took a bit of time. And the office was filled with doctors getting or renewing their licenses, which took a bit more time. Finally I was free to head over to the Archdiocese, where I returned an ice chest that had gotten mixed up with our bins and boxes to Dina, who will get it to its proper owner. And I headed for home.

That will teach you all to ask me what I do when mission groups aren't around! I admit, this week was extra heavy, crunched in between my getting home and Holy Week, when every office that can possibly be closed is closed. But it's not unusual. There's a lot of travel to offices, a lot of meetings, frequent times of waiting around or coming back the next day - but most important, there are many people whose lives I'm able to help a bit because of the generosity of our donors. Thank you!

Primero Dios or Primero El Salvador

Yesterday La Prensa Grafica featured a two-page spread on the commemoration of the 30th anniversary of Archbishop Romero's murder, and one item on the page reported vandalism at a small park in Antiguo Cuscatlan honoring Roberto D'Aubuisson, founder of the ARENA party and a man considered by many to be responsible for Romero's murder (for a recent, well-reported and chilling story about the events surrounding that murder, see the English translation of El Faro's excellent interview with Captain Alvaro Saravia.).

The vandals at the park had left a sign saying Asesino and the outline of a body in red paint. But what really struck me in the photo was the plaque with what I presume was D'Aubuisson's motto:

Primero El Salvador
Segundo El Salvador
Tercero El Salvador

How different that is from the words I hear every day in El Salvador, Primero Dios, God first. There's a huge irony here in that El Salvador means the Savior, means God. But I don't think that was how D'Aubuisson meant it.