Remembering

I realize that I have not updated my blog in the past month and I apologize for that. The month of March has been eventful. I think partly I have been putting off writing because there is so much I have wanted to write about such as: visiting artisans workshops in Chalatenango, a trip to a small remote town called Amatitan to celebrate International Women's Day, Holy Week, my work at CFO and the anniversary of Romero's death. On top of that, I have recently moved into an apartment which I have been working on setting up and organizing with my two roommates. I'll try to hit some of the highlights of all of these with my theme being REMEMBERING.

Women Remembering Women
I have never heard of International Women's Day until I came to El Salvador, which is too bad for the women of the United States since the day is March 8 to commemorate the deaths of women factory workers who died in New York City about 100 years ago. Here, all over the country there were a number of celebrations going on. I had planned on going to the big march downtown with some of the women from CFO. Though a few days before I was invited to celebrate women's day in the tiny remote town of Amatitan in the department San Vincente. Cesar and his two classmates are working on a community organizing project there through. The event was supposed to start at 6:00 pm. As it was on El Salvador time, we (who were running the event) showed up at 6:15 to set up. An hour later people started showing up. Pretty soon there were about 60 or seventy people, mostly women. It was a cool night and what struck me was that they were all using towels as shawls. The ingenuity of people here often impresses me, in a place like San Vincente which is fairly hot, one wouldnt normally invest in a jacket, but towels are quite common. Anyway, I digress. The event started out with a short clip about the war and then songs about Salvadoran women and El Salvador. Then came the time to talk about and remember important women from their community who had died, many during the war. This went on for a while. Soon a few women showed up with sweet bread and coffee to distribute. Erick, my friend who was helping organize, pointed out that since it was women's day then maybe the men could serve the drinks and bread. This was a hoot since it completely challenged established gender roles. However about 5 men wanting to prove their support for women jumped up and started passing out the food. The highlight of the evening was when at the very end, the Women's Association of Amititan acted out the fight for rights and then the deaths of the women who had died in New York City so long ago. The oldest actress was probably in her sixties and the youngest looked to be about 8 and she reminded me so much of my cousin Sarah. It was quite an exprerience and it helped make up for the fact that until last year (also in El Salvador) I had never celebrated International Women's Day.

Remembering Home
Sometimes I get homesick. Everyone says this is normal for people living abroad but still I didn't really expect it. It hits me at various times: the grocery store when I can't find any food I like or listening to music that reminds me off my friends back at home. Easter was harder than I thought it would be. I had a wonderful week of vacations visiting the Bajo Lempa, the beach and Cesar's town Tepecoyo. But around the middle of the week when we went to the beach, I started to think about my Grandma and Grandpa Hersh and Palm Island. This is probably because I was on an island. Then on Good Friday while making alfrombras, or salt murals, on the streets of Tepecoyo for the Way of the Cross, I thought about the Way of the Cross in Cincinnati with all the Social Justice Groups. Later as I tried to explain the Easter Bunny and was given the look of "you gringos are absurd" I realized I would not be eating any chocolate eggs this year. When I was woken up Easter morning by the 6am procession and singing, I wondered if back at home my mom was blasting the Sandy Patty version of "Was it a morning like this." Experiencing Holy Week in El Salvador was really great, but I was surprised by how much I missed being at home.
Sometimes people remind me of people at home. I already mentioned the girl who reminded me of my cousin. There is a another boy in one of the groups at CFO who reminds me so much of my other cousin Stephen. And a girl in the Bajo Lempa who reminds me of one of the girls who I knew from the Center for Survivors in Saint Louis. She is ten and she has a cousin who is the same age as her, together, they remind me of my cousin Kristin and I. This type of remembering doesn't make me sad though. Mostly it makes me smile.
I mentioned that I visited Chalatenango a few weeks ago. It was a wonderful visit. I was able to meet the artisan groups for Las Flores and La Ceiba. It was inspiring to see them doing their work. While in Chalatenango we also stopped briefly in the town of Guarjila to plan the delegation visit to the Jon Cortina museum. Jon Cortina was an amazing Jesuit priest who dedicated his life to walking alongside the Salvadoran people. He helped with the rebuilding of Guarjila when the refugees came after the war. Before his death in 2005, he visited SLU and recieved a sword from the Jesuits to commemorate his life working for peace (kind of ironic). I remember shaking his hand. The sword is in the museum (his former house) along with other remnants of his life in El Salvador. One picture especially got me. It was of Jon Cortina with a Loretto Sister from Saint Louis named Ann Manganaro. She was nurse who lived in the community during the war. In 1994 she died of cancer and now the clinic is named after her. She is known among social justice groups in Saint Louis as well as in Guarjila. Saint Louis has a long lasting relationship with the town of Guarjila and looking through all the photos of the rebuilding of Guarjila, I couldn't help but think about all the people back in Saint Louis who I know who care so passionately about this place.

Remembering Romero
Archbishop Oscar Romero is probably one of the most renowned Salvadorans of all time. If you don't know who is is then I encourage you to read more about him because I won't be able to describe completely who he was. But in simple words: he was the Archbishop of El Salvador during a time of horrible violence and oppression and he was completely dedicated to walking with the people of El Salvador. As an archbishop he had power and he used it to defend the rights of people who were suffering under horrible oppression. He appealed to Jimmy Carter to stop funding the oppressive government, with no avial. Nor did the Vatican pay much attention to his pleas. In March of 1980, he gave a powerful homily asking Salvadoran soldiers to please put down their guns and stop killing their fellow Salvadoran brothers. The next day, he was shot and killed during mass.
28 years later he is still loved and revered. The people call him San Romero de las Americas. Saint Romero of the Americas, even though he has yet to been made a saint. His face and his words are painted all over poor communities all throughout El Salvador. The alfombra (salt mural on the street) that I helped make during Holy Week was a picture of him reaching out to a fallen campesino (Salvadoran peasant). Signs and shirts read: Romero vive! In a country that is as religious and impoverished as this one, an archbishop who talks about a God of love for the poor and a God of justice is up there with Jesus.
This past Saturday was the march and vigil to commemorate the life and death of Romero. The streets were closed off and we marched from the Salvador del Mundo statue to the Cathedral where Romero was buried. It was inspiring to see so many young people like myself who were born after the death of Romero but still so inspired by his life. There was then a giant mass in front of the Cathedral. The people camped out in the square all night listening to music and eating pupusas. It amazing to see how in death, Romero continued to live. He has a quote that says "If they kill me, I will rise again in the Salvadoran people." And he has.