On our schedule it says we were to visit the muro de memoria (wall of memory) before heading out to Valle Nuevo - I think this is actually how it worked out. My favorite photo of this place was taken last year. I was impressed by the way this presumably Salvadoran family is reflected in the names of those lost to violence.
On this visit, we had a tour guide (or bus driver) who mentioned, among other things, that the izote flower (I was familiar with this flower as "itabo" from Costa Rica) is also known as the peace flower. This is a new picture I brought home with me this year.
I then proceeded to distance myself from the larger group listening to our guide as I took photo after photo of the headings on each panel - a collection of very similar photos to I portray somewhat of the immensity of the monument and the number of names it bears. Since I wasn't paying much attention to the composition of each photo, I was surprised to find this one, with thorns reminiscent of the crown of our suffering savior peaking through.
"Tomasa" is the first name I have written in my notebook under "22 junio" - next to the words "enterramos a 7 por día". This reflects the conversation that enfolded a while after we had arrived, greeted everyone anew and settled in. I don't remember if her words came before or after I thought to break out Ivonne's book to ask Pastor if a photo in it was of him. It turns out that it wasn't, but as they pored over the 20 some pages of black and white photos (Pastor, Tomas, Angelina, Rosita) found in the middle of the book - the reactions were varied. It was as if I had transported them back in time - Pastor pointed out all the people he did recognize - and became very somber - "¡Sí, dabamos lástima!" he said - ("We sure did look pitiful back then." I was worried that I had made a mistake - stirring memories of a time that none of them have photos of. Tomasa began to tell of those times - that they buried seven people a day back then (this is how I understood this memory, but in later tellings I am wondering if she was talking about just one specific day in which seven folks died.) The elderly and the children suffered the most - because they couldn't fight off the sickness. I was surprised that none of them had seen this book before - because they all think so highly of Ivonne. Of course, it has only been published in English - and it is only a very peripheral telling of their story - simply Ivonne's experiences of being with them in the refugee camps. Tomasa sounded almost indignant as she pointed out: "You all have a book - we don't have a book to remember by." In reaction to the jogging of Pastor's memory and the somber mood it put him in - Angelina tried to turn the tide of sentiment by stating repeatedly that their time in the refuge was good. They were together, safe, and organized. Many of the skills and relationships formed there have carried over into their life after the war. Rosita, ever the comforter, was the one who reassured me that it was o.k. that I had brought out the book - as I tried to apologize for bringing back sad memories.
I was excited to have the opportunity to stay with Morena's family this year. When I was dropped off at their house, together with Gretchen, there was a workshop in session. I met Jaime, who is Vilma's brother and discovered that he is teaching some of the adult education courses in Santa Marta. Pastor and Rosita's house - the new one built by habitat - serves as a classroom. I was excited to see the alphabet on the wall there upon our arrival. The workshop at Salome's and Felipa's house involved a number of the local farmers - learning to make organic insect repellent. The leader from REDES explained to me that they are working on an initiative to promote the use of native seed for the corn crop. This particular concoction they were making - ginger, garlic, vinegar, (can't remember if there were other ingredients) was to combat a worm called "gallina ciega" (blind hen) that eats the corn.
After dinner - the whole delegation joined us at the house where we were staying - we heard from Salome - our first recorded story - he never really finished - and could spend days on his stories. What impressed me the most was the way in which he spoke of the centrality of Bible teaching in his family and how they identified so closely with the story of Exodus. We will be studying this book at Church of the Sojourners this fall - but more in relation to what it has to say about sabbath than exile. I have identified closely with the concept of exile - though my choice to leave my home of 13 years was not motivated by the violence of war. There was the emotional upheaval of a marital separation and the overwhelming need for a new support system. The people of Valle Nuevo rediscovered their support system during their time in Honduras. It is interesting to me that they never spoke of a refugee "camp". The described their dwellings - which we would call tents - like you'd find in a camp - without using the word "tienda" which does exist in Spanish. They only talked about "the refuge". I don't even think this distinction is intentional - it is simply their own understanding of their experiences - and the difference between their own and my own functional vocabulary is notable.
Lastly, as I reflected in my bed on that first night, I wrote: "Feeling energized by being here in Valle Nuevo - ready to share, translate, participate, facilitate. It feels good to be able to give back- to the measure in which I have received in this place." What I have received from the folks in Valle Nuevo - especially last year on the brink of a divorce - was a peace and healing through the mutual sharing of stories of suffering - stories that cannot be compared, only shared.
No comments:
Post a Comment