Reflection on my time away

On my last day in Ahuchapan, we were invited to speak at a campecino meeting in a squatters village. As we walked in, I recognized several of the farmers as those that we have seen over the past weeks - in the fields and in the community. The meeting was to discuss the opportunity for the clinic here to become a working project again - and about the Food Security project. On this last day, a very special moment occurred:

Jim & Felix were speaking (as I am still a-stuttering away in Spanish) and one of the gentlemen in the crowd motioned for me to come and sit between him and my favourite special lady - Maria - on a bench in the front row. Things slowed down for me a bit as I walked over, sat down, hugged Maria and gave her kisses and thanked him for inviting me in. It was a moment of being invited to sit with them, rather than stand apart from them. As I sat there, listening with the rest of them, tears came to my eyes because I felt for once that the difference between us evaporated - and just for a moment - I was one of them.

Our last morning in the fields.
To supply each of the campecinos one manzana
- just enough for their family & them -
we would need to fundraise between $150,000 - $450,000. 

The clinic building that is currently abandoned, but
ready to be fixed up provided we could find doctors and
medicine.

Our community meeting. Faces of the heartbeat of ES.

So how do you begin to digest these intensive weeks I've had here? I've received big real life lessons in sociology, philosophy, theology, geography, agronomy and international development. There is a long road ahead of me over the coming days and weeks and months as I get my situation at home worked out. However, a number of priceless knowledge has been given to me and my heart - just as I felt coming home six months ago from India.

I love how every conversation I've been having lately - be it with the community here, with the Canadians that were here building stoves, with my sister or with my friends that I met on the other side of the world - comes back to how we can make a sustainable difference in our own lives and the lives of those around us. And that starts with basic needs. We need to shift the way we are eating as we are causing ourselves all kinds of diseases. We need to shift the way we take care of Mother Earth as environmentally, again, we are causing all kinds of diseases and unrest...when in fact we are given this fertile earth that can grow amazing foods - without chemicals of any kind (unless you buy Monsanto-plagued seeds) - to nourish ourselves and our family. If each family had a little plot of land, a garden and some training, we would all eat well and be fully taken care of.

It's almost as if we need to revert back to simpler times, keeping our knowledge and advancements where they serve humanity only. It means nurturing Mother Earth to provide for us only what we need and then giving back to her where we can. It means if I have a dollar in my pocket - and you have none - I give you a quarter to get started. To share and live equally and in harmony. This is true abundance.

Abundance is not in having "things". It comes in having conversations and living in community. Abundance is having enough food to nourish our bellies and conversation, community and love to nourish our souls.

In going to Central America, in simply taking notes and giving a few smiles and organizing the project a wee little bit, I have given a tiny bit of myself. Yet, I have been given so much. I've been given the gift of reflection and appreciation for my own life, family and friends. I've been given lessons in what it means to truly live and thrive off of a tiny amount. I've been given the gift of renewal in my faith for a better world...if only we can all work together to make that happen.

Do I have to go back to my job? Yes. Do I like what I do everyday? Sure, most days. But in the end, does it give me the means to connect with others, to thrive in a communal workplace where we try to rise up for the greater good - that is left up to me to ensure. It could, if I work with the right type of clients who are wanting to do the right type of good out there. But does my job give me the means to try to continue on now, one step at a time, with my life? Yes. And as I figure out over the coming months where I'm going to move and what I'm going to do, I'm grateful for this.

And where will I go with this gigantic development project that still goes on down in El Salvador? Well, I need to find what skills I can give best to it. That makes me think it's important to look at when I was happiest there. And that's easy, in two situations do I feel really excited and happy: 1) in organizing the projects and getting a handle on what is being done, what has been done, and what needs to be done. In making sense of the chaos. This is the business side of me coming out. 2) in walking with the people. I simply feel my best when setting one foot beside the other with the campecinos and their families.

So what does that mean for next year? I have the opportunity to go down for a much longer time...to live and thrive within the community and to handle some of the project management. I'm not sure how I would make it work as this would not be a paid job, but from what I've seen, anything is possible. I just need Warren Buffett to read this blog and consider me as an investment...

In the Mayan calendar, the 13th baktun is ending. A cycle of 5,125 days. In December, we'll be starting the next cycle on this planet and from what I've heard, it's going to be one much more focused on how we can undo the hurts that we've laid on Mother Earth and start to thrive together.

The times...they are a changin'. 

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150 Manzanas Por Favor

In El Salvador there are about 6 million people. Roughly half of them live in or around the capital, San Salvador. The other half are spread throughout the small country. Here there are two insecurities that are creating major problems in the country:

1) Physical Insecurity – i.e not enough people feeling safe
2) and Food Insecurity – the food supply is just not stable

Remember Maslow's hierarchy? These are two basic needs that are not being met. When was the last time you can remember when you didn't know for sure that you would have food the next day?

In total, there are 350,000 peasant farmers (campecinos). These peasant farmers DO NOT own their own land. Before the recent land reform policy, 2% of the population of ES owned over 90% of the land. This figure has improved in recent years, but not by much. Los campecinos must therefore rent the land. However, many do not have the money to borrow to rent the land up front, so they take the land on a IOU, grow their crops and must give either the profits from the food or the food itself to the landowners, making them no better off than before. There is a law, similar to the squatting laws of North America, where if a peasant is on the land for so long, they own it. Therefore, each year the land is changed – meaning no campecino rents the same piece of land year after year. This means they are unable to adopt sustainable farming practices that will improve the land and crops year over year...yielding harsher conditions and less production over time. Not only this, but the good land is reserved for landowners...the land given to campecinos is therefore on a mountainside or another bad area – making soil erosion and gravity even more problems. And even worse? The only seed they can usually access is from transnationals like Monsanto. Monsanto uses seeds that you cannot reuse year after year because they are hybrid seeds – thereby genetically produced. We have an agronomist who thinks they come with the plague that affects most crops, meaning you must use their fertilizers - chemical fertilizers - which do nothing to help the earth or soil. So each year, 80% of people here do not grow enough to meet their own dietary needs, never mind the countries. They often have to take on additional work, like working in the sweat shops or cane fields – and often that doesn't even look after their family so they are left with unfriendly options. To starve or to leave.

Salvadorans work with “manzanas” rather than acres. One manzana is equal to 7000 square meters (an acre is 5/8th of a manzana).

Right now, what the country is lacking is sustainable and nutritious organic agriculture...for the people and the land. This was a theme that came up in every conversation we had with multiple authorities in the country – University Directors, Politicians, Theologians and Agronomists. Even those fighting for gender equality or those hoping to educate the youth agree that the number one need of the country right now is sustainable food systems. Otherwise, it could be disastrous in years to come.

One politician told us of a practice that was occuring – and still is – in many places. For example, say the country needs 33,000 manzanas produced each year of food to feed it's people. The Government and other landowners were getting together and ensuring that only half of that – or less – was produced. They were then importing grains from the States for cheaper than what it costs to produce here – and selling it for more in the markets. There was big profit in this. But does it do anything to help the state of the economy here? No. It hurts the people who grow food in a BIG way and solely benefits the few at the top. All for a buck in their pocket.

The other issue is that Salvadorans are one of the only economies in the world that run off another countries currency – the U.S. Dollar. Can you imagine if in Canada we had Abraham Lincoln and other U.S. Dignitaries in our face all the time? If we were to rise and fall with the States? How that would make us feel? I can't imagine. I am proud to be Canadian and many here are missing out on the chance to be proud to be Salvadoran. But the only way to get back to the colón? Raise production. The only way to raise production? Implement efficient and sustainable agricultural practices.

The current government has a plan of action for making some progress here. But we have talked in-depth with an agronomist who is part of our project, Otoniel, and he knows that more must be done - soon. When we asked what the solution is, apart from hoping for a miracle or that the rich SOB landowners finally decide to share the wealth, he responded with this:

"We need a chance to purchase manzanas of land to own. With this land, we could create a test plot that implements a couple of very important elements: 1) We will have land that can be used for a period of three or more years in a row, showcasing the absolute benefit of farmers having land on which they can implement sustainable practices 2) We will work with the community to understand their needs and plant what is required to meet them. 3) We will use only organic practices in order to help the soil and the earth. 4) We will use permaculture techniques and sustainable practices that will enrich the soil and create more efficient food production year upon year. 5) We will rotate depending on the years with chickens, beans, corn etc. This creates a cycle that increases the soil productivity and creates more food.

We need to show the government and landowners the extreme benefits of food production in this way so that we have enough food to feed the country, but we can begin to focus development dollars on other needs for the country – like education, health and equality for all.

With our own land, we can have an example that could spread throughout the country for the benefit of their most basic need. We can give life to the people."

As the age-old saying goes, “Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, but teach a man a fish and he'll eat for life.”

One of the peasant farmers with Project Manager Felix
and Jim in the fields.

Proudly showing off his banana plant.

On our way to the fields, we found
ourselves in a tropical jungle paradise with
this little waterfall. Gorgeous.

Finding water you could drink!
Well, not for gringos...

Now I must tell you quickly about my favourite lady, Maria. She is 72 years old and has a face that tells a beautiful story. Unfortunately, Maria has a son whom was "wrongly" accused of a robbery. His boss swears he was at work, but the courts are far from just here. Either way, she has to visit him twice a month in Santa Ana (which is about an hour away). She saves all her money to bring him supplies he may need and for the transport there and back - and thereby does not have the time to dedicate to her corn crop or to bettering her house.

She stands about 4'5" and when she hugs me it's almost at my waist. But on the way to show us her house (at least a 2 km walk from the road), you better believe she was about twenty yards ahead of us at all times. She also produced a 2 liter jug of orange juice and cups (out of where? She's so small and I had no idea she was carrying it) in the middle of our walk to quench everyone's thirst. Grandma's just come prepared, right? They are magical (love you Grandma) and so is she. If I could adopt anyone to bring back with me, it would be this beauty.

The leader of the Campecinos Organization
Jorge - in front of Maria's house
made...of sticks and plastic.

After meeting with the campecinos repeatedly in the past week, I have no doubt that these guys are capable. They are hard workers and honest people. But they need help. They have lived through wars and mighty oppression. They have seen many die for no reason and have had days of wondering whether food or justice would come. After all the luck we've had in our lives, we will try to find some way to create just a bit of luck for them. The first problem is getting the land. After that will come seed, fertilizers, training, housing, education and health. 

We have land secured that we could purchase. If you know of anyone who is willing / wishing to donate to this ongoing project, please contact me. It will go through the organization OTRA FE (A Different Faith). There are also many smaller projects that I will outline in detail later, including sponsorships of students, education projects, youth and senior projects and a clinic project. Any bit will help, but we do need a fair chunk. Let me know.

Big love!

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La Lucha de El Salvador

Where can I begin this post? First, "Lucha" = Struggle. I am slowly falling deeper into this country and all it's history that no one seem to ever hear.

I'll start with the bad...and try to end with the good. There's so much more than what I have time to pound out on this keyboard. In due time I'll share!

First. El Mozote and Perquin's War Museum. We arrived in "Rebel territory" around 3 p.m. Monday after a night of driving in the dark, a lunch with a well known Pastor here in San Salvador talking to us about the war and drug trafficking and the powers-that-be over chimichangas and tacos, a morning of our car stalling and dying, ending in me directing traffic and helping to push the car down the street.

So, when the war started, civilians headed for the mountains simply because that's where their opportunity rested. Where they could become strong, initiate peace talks, and collaborate hope for social justice. Where they could teach their community reading and writing and how to stand up for what you believe in - rights, justice, and truth. Yet also where they armed and protected themselves and showed they would not be taken without a fight. Although I am not a believer in violence, I am a believer in standing up and fighting for what you believe at your core is right. And for that I respect them.

So the war museum in Perquin showed them. Their photos, their colours, their faces. The ones who were murdered and the massacred and were "disappeared" by the Salvadoran Government and Military. Our guide there was of a local indigenous tribe and explained that because none of them had the opportunity to become educated, the potential lies within the youth's hands to learn, educate and fight for the transformation of this country's social justice.

El Mozote was different. It is a massacre site where the troops killed over 700 people in an intent to instil terror and fear in the people. In December of 1989, they gathered the people of this unassuming town in the town square and separated the boys from the girls. They killed the boys and fathers. They separated out the girls under 9 years old, raped them and killed them so their mothers would hear the screams. And then they came for the mothers. In this small town, there is a memorial wall that shows the names of all (they could find) who had died. There is a memorial church where the bodies of all the children are buried. The youngest in the community was 3 days old and the oldest, 90 years old.

Learning about what it was really like during the war
and the now (and ever) present economic &
political issues from Carlos & his wife.

No more repression.

Our trip to El Mozote not starting off well..

They are not with the dead,
they are with us
with you
and with all of humanity.

The genocide memorial.

The memorial where all of the children's bodies are buried.

In the garden of reflection near the site.
There is still beauty present amidst all the sorrow.

President of the Human Rights Commission
of El Salvador. Assassinated for defending
the rights of her people, March 14, 1983

The faces of the war.

50% of Salvadorans live in misery.

At the bottom it reads: Join the
National Campaign to stop the
U.S. sponsored bombing
of El Salvador.
See me?

"Salvador" (his rebel name) after speaking to us about
the cooperatives and his part in the war.

At our small hotel, we had a humble dinner of rice and plaintains and a man came to sit with us. He told us of how he was in the rebel troops. The army was taking people from every village or killing them so him and his brother fled. He was 11 at the time. He had been shot three times and showed us his scars. Yet his outlook on the war was a positive one, which was ...different...nice different...to hear. He learned to read, write, cook, work with propaganda and the press and do special projects. He felt that the war showed the people that they had a voice and allowed them the opportunity to realize their potential.

Yesterday, we went first to Oscar Romero's Chapel and then to the University of Central America. Romero was a pastor of the people. He was elected Archbishop and had decided to keep politics completely out of religion. He didn't want a part of what was going on in the country outside of religion. However, his best friend was assassinated a year later and that began to change the way he saw what was going on in his country. In his last sermon, he called on the army to put down their arms and to stop killing their own people. The next day, March 24, 1989, he was assassinated when giving mass. Shot through the heart by a drive-by sharpshooter (who is now a car dealer in San Francisco and lives safely in the States). He had been quoted months earlier saying that if he was killed, his spirit would rise in his people.


Next, at the UCA, six Jesuits were hauled out of their rooms and murdered by the Salvadoran military..along with the housekeeper and her daughter whom were raped & murdered. Brutally. I saw pictures of their dead, ravaged bodies. I felt sick to my stomach with the evilness of humans...which created a philosophical discussion last night at dinner about what this evil balance is in life? Where did it come from? Is it man? Is it the "devil"? Is it money and greed? Or all of the above? Honestly, it raises so many questions that we can't begin to answer at this time.

Yet, there is the good. The University is now about hope. It is taking all middle class students and part of their program - every program - is working with the poor and among the poor. It's turned something awful into something resilient and strong. It's turned into an opportunity for the youth and humanity of El Salvador.

Just prior to posting this, I've posted a blog titled "Let the Poor Break Your Heart". It is written by Dean Brackley and is from a short book titled The University and Its Martyrs: Hope from Central America. I found it profound and I hope you take the time to read it.

The point from where Romero was shot, just outside the
doors in a drive-by shooting.

"If I die, I will return & rise in the Salvadoran people."
Spoken a few months prior to his assassination.

Last night Otoniel talked to us about the hope for a Food Security Project (the one I am here to potentially intern with next year). More to come on that. Today we're meeting with a former Rebel Commander of the guerrilla army and his wife, the Director of the Women's Rights Organization whom Jim and Brenda know well. And Thursday...if you can believe this...she has us lined up for a meeting with the (correction) Director of a Salvadoran Human Rights Organization for FESPED (Fundacion de Estudios para la Aplicacion del Derecho)!! Excuse the punctuation marks, but I am mucho, muchisimo excited.

The rebel army hills.
So much beauty, hope & resiliance in this broken land
of El Salvador.

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Sacrifice

My very good girlfriend was home recently and shared some music with me as we often do. She's had the opportunity to learn a lot about the Native American struggles in North America and fell in love with the very moving music of Robbie Robertson.

Mr. Robertson has been one of my favourite musicians for the last five years. He captured my heart in The Band and so - when she gave me a CD of his this Christmas - we were both surprised we were in love with the same man, but at very different times in his career. He was born to a Jewish father and a Mohawk mother. His music career took him to work with some of the most amazing musicians of all time. He has since left basement recordings with Bob Dylan behind and moved back to his roots with the Red Road Ensemble. Last May, he was made an Officer of the Order of Canada by the Governor General.

One of the songs on this CD that captured me was Sacrifice. It tells the story of imprisoned Indian leader Leonard Peltier when he actually called them to talk about his own personal experience with the law and his lifelong stay at "the swiftest growing Indian resevation in the United States". The story was told on a 1999 PBS documentary "Making A Noise: A Native American Musical Journey".

The entire 'movement' I'll call it, is both haunting and incredible. I realized that in all my life, I've yet to set foot on a reservation for anything further than a volleyball game. We have such beautiful, rich culture in our own land and it hurts my heart to think that I've missed out on it. I've visited and sat among beautiful indigenous lives in Africa and India...but not in my home country? I'm determined now to know more, to learn more. I won't be ignorant any longer.

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