Amazing Amate

Today I drove early in the morning to the port of La Libertad, where some of our November patients from San Juan Opico were going through an eye clinic to see if they would qualify for surgery. There in the courtyard of the Casa Emiliani retreat house was this most amazing tree, an amate, that had put down a secondary trunk and flung up a main limb in midair. It's a tree with the lines of a dancer, a tree with circles and arches and great flowing lines of timber, a tree that hardly seems possible, and is surely unforgettable.

Alas, our three patients did not qualify for this surgery, but all did receive glasses and thorough eye checks. And I am glad to have made the acquaintance of this ancient and glorious tree.

Coming into safety

Last week I shared the hard story of a friend whose family was being extorted by gangsters. I've been praying for her through the week, knowing that the final payment on the amount that had been agreed was due yesterday. I called today, and apparently everything went OK, and she is now feeling some relief from the terror that has seized the family for the last month.

It's hard to know that this family's hard-earned money and everything they could get in loans from other family members and friends has gone to strengthen the gangs that devastate the people of El Salvador. But I am so glad that my friend can begin to feel safe again!

Beyond this immediate relief, it's my prayer that somehow, somehow the people can find ways to trust each other and band together against the gangs - and that the government can work harder and smarter to begin to solve this enormous problem.

Birds of stranger feathers

I went to the nearest mini-mall on Saturday to cash a check and had to stand in line for a while outside the bank. A little come-and-look was set up across the parking lot, with appliances and a large inflated chicken holding balloons for the kids. At first I thought the chicken was simply a balloon itself, but no: on closer inspection, I could see signs of a human form inside. Now it was about 92 degrees and the guy in the chicken suit was standing in the sun, and it didn't seem to me that he could possibly be getting enough money to make it worthwhile to bounce up and down inside that rubber chicken suit and give out balloons. Got my check cashed, did some shopping, came back to take a photo, which I got just as Mr. Chicken was being led away from the pavilion and into the appliance store. If you look closely, you can see that his chicken suit is drooping and looking a bit pathetic. I peeked in the store just in time to see a young man, still alive, emerging from this bird of very strange feathers.

Speaking of chickens, do you know that they like to climb trees and perch in them for the night? Margaret Jane and I sometimes go to a favorite spot for pupusas, the ultimate Salvadoran comfort food, where we can watch the chickens in the next yard climbing up and disposing themselves among the branches of a small tree. Probably a place of greater safety than the ground, as long as a tree-climbing garobo (male iguana) doesn't come after you.

Birds of the sky, singing

Today at the 5 PM Mass at Santa Lucia, Padre Juan Carlos was reading from Mark: "To what shall we compare the Kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it?
It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground,
is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.
But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants
and puts forth large branches,
so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade."

At that very moment, the setting sun was shining through the west windows, setting the big 4-lobed pillar in front of the altar ablaze, and at that very moment the community of English sparrows that lives in Santa Lucia burst into rapturous song, cheeping and chittering at top voice through the sermon and through the eucharistic prayer. I have to confess that I gave up trying to follow the sermon and contented myself with following the birds as they flipped from pillar to pillar, singing vespers.

As we walked up for communion, the sunset light faded, the birds quieted and settled in for the night, and the service came peacefully to a close. Alleluia, and thanks be to God.

New works at Centro Arte

The events and openings at the Centro Arte para la Paz this year have been breathtaking - first the beautiful new museum in one wing of the old school, then the skateboard park, the landscaping of the outer grounds, two beautiful new entry gates, the exercise pavilion....and now! Just a few days ago, two relatively recent classrooms that stood on one side of the chapel were demolished, and now the foundations are being dug for a new combination of facilities: a large meeting room, dining room, kitchen, storage area, and two apartments for visitors.

For those who know the Centro Arte, the hostel is in the background of this photo, which looks across the courtyard toward Sister Peggy's house (now painted blue). And you can see a few of the men digging away, happy to be having this great building project to work on.

Peggy is, of course, already planning the next project. And given what I've experienced so far at the Centro Arte para la Paz, I expect it will happen ahead of schedule.

Satisfactions

Today was full of satisfactions. First thing in the morning, last thing in the afternoon, I helped some of my favorite scholars get ready: Walther needed some extra cash for lab and materials fees, as he continues his 5-year program toward an engineering degree. Then, in the afternoon, I helped Rosita and her girls, Lupita and Edith, get backpacks and notebooks and colored pencils - they're in 4th and 5th grade.

In between those happy moments, I had the satisfaction of completely understanding a couple of relatively complicated phone calls from strangers - I must really be picking up my level of Spanish, though sometimes it seems as if I'll never master it - finding two challenging locations in the city, and picking up medications and eyeglasses for our clinics. Then I came home and made a stir-fry with roasted red pepper sauce, cooking to my pleasure without a recipe - and it turned out well.

None of this solves the deeper problems of the world or the terrible crises of El Salvador, crises of poverty and crime that I wrote about earlier this week. But it's good to have a day of minor satisfactions. Those, too, are real.

First day of school

Tomorrow is the first day of school for kids in El Salvador. They're at the end of the their summer vacations, which stretch from mid-November to mid-January; school packets are being handed out to parents for the second year, with uniforms, shoes and notebooks. Today after church we ran into a single mother who Margaret Jane has been helping. Her 12 and 15 year old daughters are entering 2nd grade - because, I imagine, last year was the first time she was able to send them to school properly clothed and with notebooks. This is one government program that's worth more than every penny.

Here's one more student on his way - Moises, a young man who our doctors helped to get successful surgery about 8 years ago is now ready to start university. He's going to be studying computer technology for a couple of years, on his way, we hope, to a good career and a happy life, with the aid of a scholarship from some of his friends in PeaceHealth.