Goodbye

Today was my day to say goodbye to Las Delicias. I nearly cried. And I'm never sentimental! These people, their stories, the glimpse I've had into their lives has really touched me. I also feel overwhelmed with the magnitude of what needs to be done before they can help themselves. I got so many hugs and kisses (despite my very obvious cough!) and drawings. I wish I could stress to them how much they mean to me. I wish they knew how they change the lives of every gringo that comes through Sister Gloria's casa voluntariado. They boys who act up, who say sexually demeaning things to the volunteers, I wish I could stress to them how much it hurts and what wonderful people they are, if only they would see that. And even the children who drove me nuts asking for more premios and lied about their situations to get more handouts, I will miss dearly.

As we drove out of Las Delicias today, another dreary scene met us. More people, more soldiers, more policemen, standing by the side of the road. A woman was murdered today. She was running from the gangs. I know she had two children, one 23 and the other 19. She had a husband. She was alive this morning. She is not from Las Delicias, but she died there. It breaks my heart to be gliding safely over all of this senseless violence.

I'm really torn because I can hardly wait to see my family. I feel ill with anticipation. Tomorrow morning, I will see the country through the window of the bus on the way to the airport. But I have already said goodbye.

I am at loath to leave the people close to my heart in El Salvador. I am frightened for them. I wish I could offer them more support than prayers and love.

Fiona out. :)

Grouchy Neighbors

Most of the group went to Guatemala today for a brief vacation. I stayed with those-left-behind. We were such a small group that we all decided to take a little car to Zaragoza and do what we could with regards to construction. I was doubtful that we would get much done, but the four of us were so enthusiastic, that we dug trenches and built walls all day long, and got quite a bit done. I must say though, I've never been so hot in my life. It was steamy weather, and I'm not used to heavy labor like swinging a pick ax at clods of clay and rock. But I really, really enjoyed it. I knew my labor was contributing to this really wonderful project.

Regardless of all of the beautiful things this day, there was one storm cloud. The alcaldia (mayor's office) of Zaragoza brought a big backhoe and they were ready to help us do some of the digging that it has taken many women and men many weeks to do only a part of. Just as they were about to start digging up the road, the neighbors at the top of the hill (the ones whose cesspool is dripping down onto the daycare center) came tearing down the hill, shouting and swearing that we weren't allowed to dig up that road. Here are the catches: it's not their land (it belongs to the community of Zaragoza) , there is a road 5 meters behind it that comes from and leads to the same place, and the dirt from that pathway washes onto the school each time it rains. I think their mad about being ordered to dig a new cesspool. Regardless, that display of senseless selfishness really left me downhearted. The backhoe promptly left.

Putting a Face on Statistics

Since I've been here with Project FIAT, we've had a woman from the American Embassy in San Salvador come speak to us a couple times to give us the low down as to what's going on in El Salvador. She has talked a lot about gang violence and how it is really terrorizing the country. 2.5 million Salvadorans (25% of the population) live in the U.S., largely because of the terror they face hear. I know the statistics. I'd heard it and done the math. Small population + a lot of violence and death = somebody I know here is affected. But I didn't really believe it.

Until today. I went with my group to Las Delicias. We got there without incident in the morning, but by mid-morning, I started to sense something was wrong. I didn't find out what it was until we started to drive out. The road was filled with somber people walking in the direction of the highway. Eventually, we drove up to a place where the crowds of people had stopped. The police were there. The villagers were there. Everybody just stood and stared. They talked in hushed tones. I turned to ask the driver what was going on, even though I knew. That morning, while we were playing games, coloring, and singing songs, a man from the village of Las Delicias, a gang member, was killed by another gang member. And while I didn't know him personally, the people I love do. While I couldn't put a face to the name, I probably saw him walking along the road in the month since I've been here. The violence here, it's real. And it's terrifying. I'm terrified for the people I've come to love. And now I have a taste of how real the statistics are to the people who live here. I only wish I could extend the veil of safety my North American status gives me here.

Fiona the Vaca

I went with a smaller group of adults to Las Delicias today. That was nice because I felt like I was just there to make an executive decision if it needed to be made. Other than that, I could just focus on hanging out with the kids because the people who went with me were very self sufficient. Milton and I hung out for a while and he practiced his English on me. I was impressed by how far he's come. When I first got here, he didn't speak a word of English to me. His madrina (godmother and the woman who is trying to adopt him) Ana is one of Sister Gloria's volunteers. I think her time here motivated him to learn more English from the volunteers.

A couple people went out to the village to do health assessments and a few more people went with the nurse Carmen Morena. When all the various groups came back for lunch, I was told that they met a man with his cow along the way. He wanted them to convey a message for me: "This cow is named Fiona after Sister Gloria's helper. Tell her for me."

Sister Gloria has a little girl named after her in Zaragosa. I'm not nearly as cool, so I'll totally settle for a cow. I'm actually quite honored! I hope Fiona and I meet before I go!

Immaculate hearts

We went to the orphanage (Imaculata Corazon de la Reina Maria) again today after we went to the cathedral for mass. I've found this portion of each tour to be the hardest for me. The kids have their physical needs taken care of. They have food, they're safe, they go to school, nuns to take care of them, and volunteers to visit and entertain them. But they don't have families. And most or all of them are old enough to understand that they are "abandonados." There is a little boy, not much more than a year old, with beautiful, black salvadoran eyes and silky blond hair. His mother gave him up and then committed suicide. They talk about it right in front of him. If he doesn't understand now, he will soon. Someone told me he is the child of a prostitute. That may be why his hair is blond (unknown gringo dad).

I saw Darci again today. She was really shy. But then I got out my camera. "Quiero una foto con usted!" (I want a picture with you!) She beamed at the tiny image in the photograph when I showed it to her. We didn't talk much again today because she seemed really sad and angry. I wonder why.

Nancy, force that she is, got the supplies together a couple weeks ago to remodel the nursery. She repainted all of the walls and then we hung designs up all over the room. It makes the nursery seem so much lighter, safer somehow. Less like an institution.

The kids were really excited to see me again. I feel like I don't deserve it. I've been to see them three times, and each time, I fool around with them for a couple hours and then take off again. I don't deserve their adoration. They deserve what my little brother Mario has: a family to love them, even if it is not the family of their blood.

Little Ana comes to me readily though I'm not sure she remembers me. She gestured when she saw me and pointed to my backpack. We went through its contents until she found the camera she was looking for and then we had a photo shoot. But she didn't smile for the pictures. She can't be more than two. She deserves something to smile about.

Darcy and Ana

Darcy

Baby Ana

Staff Road trip (Pan-American Highway)

Two days ago, I was talking with a couple staff members, and we realized that we had a day off. (Woot woot!) Not wanting to waste a moment, and because I've been insufferably close to Guatemala, I suggested that we take a road trip. Nancy, the queen of Zaragosa, and Hermana Belin, the Spaniard, got right on it. This morning, we staff members and the engineer we convinced to come with us got up at five and left the house for Antigua, Guatemala.

Immigration was an interesting little flick in which we went through a little bureaucratic stint in El Salvador and then drove over a bridge and did it again in Guatemala. After a time (during which I slept soundly), we could see Guatemala City, but from above, which I've never done. Thrilling! And then I proceeded to do a little blabbing about the history and culture of Guatemala to all the people in the car. I was totally shocked to find out (from Nancy) that Guatemala is actually richer than El Salvador. I might have exaggerated my memories of Guate in my mind...

We finally got into Antigua around noon and went to one of my favorite restaurants. And then we went on a little whirl through the nunnery. Our crazy, mismatched group (a Gringa student, a Puerto Rican teacher, a Portuguese teacher, a Salvadoran driver, a Gringo engineer, and a Spanish nun) attracted a lot of attention with our obnoxious cackling (I think we were thrilled to have a break) and bizarre collection of accents in Spanish--because we were all speaking Spanish but with various levels of success and having learned to speak Spanish in various parts of the world.

After MORE shopping (it seems to be a favorite with these tour groups) we went to Hermano Pedro's church. I love going to churches in central America. They are so beautiful and I always feel so reverent because there are always people praying fervently. This was no different. I lit a candle for Papa, said a prayer, and went outside to putz around and talk to more people. I was just so happy to be talking to Guatemalans again.

On the way home, Hermana Belin and I chatted tons about the Catholic church, and canonization, and the Congo, and Cameroon (she's worked in both places), and Hermano Pedro. At the border, we went through the same process as earlier, only reverse. The one difference was once entering El Salvador, they searched the car. As they were doing so, I saw this guy with a potted plant take off into El Salvador and leap into the back of a pickup truck. If only the US-Mexico border were that easy to sneak over! Haha. Awesome day, but I'm wiped.