Brokenness, "Something", and Grace

I'm back home in Illinois now. Except for the 12 hours I was home between El Salvador and Canada, I haven't been home for two and a half months. I'm glad to be home, but it's a little bit depressing to be back in the boring suburbs after all the wonderfulness of El Salvador and the Northwoods of Canada. Now I'm getting ready for my next set of adventures...my second year of graduate school and a social ministry internship at my church.


I made the wonderful decision to read (again) a book by Anne Lamott called Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. Anne Lamott is a brilliant writer. She is so brutally honest about her life and her faith, and it is this brutal honesty that really amazes me along with her incredible insights. As I read this book I found myself nodding in agreement, laughing out loud, and even crying once because she captured in exactly the perfect words what I hadn't been able to find the words for. She has lived through some pretty painful and difficult things and yet she isn't afraid to talk about them, how she was feeling during these experiences, and how these experiences affected her faith at the time as well as years down the road. She makes some brilliant analogies about God, Jesus, and being a Christian. Her writing has spoken to me in the past and rereading this book after my trip to El Salvador has led to some new reflections and perhaps a better understanding of what Anne was writing about as well as a better understanding of my experiences in El Salvador. I really hope that this will make sense, I'm not even sure that it makes sense in my own mind, but hopefully Anne Lamott's words will help make sense of the chaos of my brain.

I continue to think about my heart that was broken in El Salvador. Why was my heart broken? Can it be "fixed"? Has it healed at all? Anne Lamott quotes Eugene O'Neill (an American playwright and Nobel Laureate in literature) who said "Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue." I do believe it is true that we are born broken, knowing nothing, and understanding even less. So if we are born broken, why do I feel like I became even more broken at times while I was in El Salvador? Perhaps we have to be more broken before we can start to be mended, before we can start to become more whole, to understand and to know more about ourselves, our broken world, and our God. Or maybe it just feels like we are becoming more broken when in fact we are in the mending process.

Perhaps is it like when someone gets a really bad broken bone and the doctors have to force it back into place and then use some screws (rather than glue) to put the bone back together. I can't say from personal experience, but I'm sure it hurts something awful. Or maybe it's like when a bone heals the wrong way and the doctors have to rebreak the bone so that it will heal correctly. Maybe rationally and logically it makes sense to re-break a bone so that it will heal correctly, but at the time the bone is being rebroken it may not seem that way for the patient as the bone is being rebroken (even with pain medication).

But if we are to mend, to become whole, maybe we do have to experience that brokenness, to realize through the pain of raw suffering (our own or that of other people) that we are broken, that we do need to mend and that the grace of God can mend us. It is very much God doing the mending, but in my experience my mending has relied heavily on my fellow humans. It is through my interactions with others and it seemed especially through my interactions with Salvadorans that I have mended some, but the mending didn't come without feeling more broken. Maybe we can call it growing pains.

God created each living creature. We humans are born broken (most of us very broken), but God also created community where we can mend and learn and grow. By no means is community easy- sometimes I can't stand being within 100 yards of another human being- and we certainly have difficulty getting along a lot of the time. But we are deeply interconnected- for good or for bad- and we desperately need each other to mend from our brokenness.

Cleaning a wound can be painful, but it is a very important part of making sure something heals. Whether we are cleaning our own wounds or the wounds of others we can more clearly see how deep the wound is and in some cases cleaning the wound may help one see what caused the wound. When I was in El Salvador learning about the wounds (physical and otherwise) caused by violence I was able to learn about the role I and my country had in causing some of the wounds. And I also learned some ways in which I might help clean those wounds and start the healing process.

A 5 year old boy that I nannied for got a splinter in his finger one day while we were out playing on his deck. He didn't cry until I told him that we should try to take the little piece of wood out and clean it. He didn't want me to even touch his finger and even though I told him it would feel better once we took the splinter out, he got hysterical at the thought of the pain that would come as I was taking it out. I told him again and again that it would just hurt for a few seconds and then it would start to feel better real fast. All he wanted to do was put a band-aid over it and he was convinced that this would make everything better. I think maybe we are all like this little boy in that we are very reluctant to do anything that might cause us more pain. It is very easy to remain ignorant of all the pain and suffering going on in the world all around us. I have been guilty of ignoring injustices that are right outside my front door. Why would you want to submit yourself to learning about violence and suffering and injustice when we can just go watch the latest episode of American Idol or The Bachelor? In El Salvador, however, it was impossible for me to not see the wounds of injustice everywhere. And it was clear that these were wounds could not be healed with a "band-aid". They are far too serious to cover up and just try to forget they are there.

I couldn't do much more to heal the wounds of my Salvadoran friends except to listen to their stories and then to tell the stories to my friends and family back home (and even if I don't feel I did much, I do know that listening and being compassionate are so very important and significant). But I think the Salvadorans did far more to help heal my wounds. My wounds and my brokenness do not come from the atrocities of civil war or from the constant fear of gangs or from the violence of a lack of access to health care and food and water. I struggle to name my wounds, but I feel (as many of you may also) that something is missing. In some way I am not whole. Maybe this "something" is something that cannot be put into words but it is something that I spent quite a bit of time talking about with my fellow travel companions the last week of our time in El Salvador. I think it was only through allowing myself to join in solidarity with the Salvadorans and their wounds that I was able to experience this "something" that in turn helped mend my own wounds.

We noticed there is something that Salvadorans have that we don't. Despite our efforts to determine exactly what this "something" is and why Salvadorans have it and why we don't and how we can take it home with us, we didn't get too far in trying to figure it all out. That "something" made me feel truly alive, full of hope, and genuinely happy. Despite the suffering Salvadorans experience and despite the lack of material goods, they have that "something" that gives them faith, hope, love, and happiness.

Even if I don't understand what this "something" is, it was a true gift that I got to experience it along side my Salvadoran friends. However, Anne Lamott talks about gifts that require assembly and I think that this "something" is one of those gifts that requires some assembly. Or maybe it's like one of those dreaded Christmas gifts that says on the box "some assembly required" but what it really should say is "this will take all day to assemble, you need 20 different tools, and not all the parts are really included." This "something" will require me to do some unpacking and then I'll have to try to figure out what it is, how it works, and what to do with it.

Perhaps this "something" is a deep appreciation of life or maybe it is God's love or God's presence or perhaps it is grace, that grace that helps glue us together, to mend our brokenness (or maybe some combination of all of these things or maybe none of the above). If this "something" is indeed grace, Anne Lamott captures my thoughts exactly on this grace: "I don't understand the mystery of grace- only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. It can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes." As I have struggled to understand and assemble the gift of grace or whatever this "something" is, I do recognize that I am not where I started. I'm not really sure where it's taking me, but I'm trying to receive it gladly and in both big gulps and tiny tastes.

Anne Lamott also wrote "Everything is usually so masked or perfumed or disguised in the world, and it's so touching when you get to see something real and human." and "I'm pretty sure that it is only by experiencing that ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed- which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace." In El Salvador things just seemed more real, more raw, more human. Here in my nice suburban home I am surrounded by comfort and nice things and distractions. While my life in my nice suburban home with my nice suburban family and friends certainly isn't bad, but there are things that I just don't see and experience as clearly here as I did in El Salvador. I think it is through seeing things that are real and human that I was able to be mended. It was God's grace that came through God's presence in each person I met in El Salvador. I know that God's grace is everywhere with everyone and I hope that some day I'll be able to feel that grace wherever I am just as strongly as I felt it in El Salvador.

Buses and Families

A while ago I promised a post about the public buses in El Salvador as well as a post about families in El Salvador. I don't want to break my promises and let my readers down, so here you go...

There are tons of public buses in El Salvador, especially in San Salvador. You can pretty much go anywhere in the country by bus (although it may take you a very long time). The majority of people in El Salvador do not have cars, so they can walk, ride a bike (not many Salvadorans can afford bikes and some of the rural roads aren't very biker friendly), hitch a ride in a pick-up truck, or ride the bus. It's rare that a bus isn't crowded. It costs 20 cents for a ride on the bus, 25 cents to ride on a microbus (I don't really know why it's different to ride a microbus, it's still a public bus), and for some buses that go farther out into the rural areas it costs $3. There are buses everywhere and they all look a little different- I'm pretty sure that no two look the same.

Microbuses

old school bus

Some are old school buses from the U.S., some are old Greyhound type buses, some are microbuses. Almost all the buses are decorated in some fashion. Some have awesome paint jobs and most have some sort of decals or stickers on them- anything from Garfield to Jesus to Winnie the Pooh to the Virgin of Guadalupe to flags from various countries.

 I'm pretty sure that there aren't any emission standards in El Salvador and even if there are they definitely aren't enforced. The buses (and a lots of the cars and trucks on the road) let out huge plumes of black and grey and white smoke. It's pretty gross. In addition to the driver, many of the buses have a fare collector. The fare collector, usually a young man, collects the money from the riders, helps people get on and off the bus, tries to recruit riders, and lets the driver know when it's ok to go after people get on or off. Some of the buses are equipped with nice (i.e. very loud) sound systems from which their regaton plays loudly.


When people think about buses in developing countries, a lot of people think about riding on a bus with chickens. I haven't had the pleasure of riding on a bus with chickens in El Salvador, but I can almost guarantee that it happens. If people are going somewhere to sell something, or if they have bought something they are bringing home, they bring it on the bus. Riding the buses in El Salvador was rarely boring. There was always someone or something interesting to look at inside or outside the bus. People would get on and sell little things like candy. Sometimes there was even live entertainment on the bus. A couple of times men with guitars got on the bus and sang a song or two and then walked down the aisle to collect any coins that people offered for his performance. The most amazing thing about these men that sang on the bus was that they were able to stand, play the guitar, and sing all while the bus driver did his best to go as fast as he could over the bumps, over the hills, and around the corners.

The buses in El Salvador have gotten some international press time in the past year or so because the gangs have been killing people on the buses and burning the buses. On many of the bus routes the gangs make the bus drivers pay "rent". The gang members collect money from the bus drivers and in return the gangs say that they will protect the bus drivers or at least leave them alone. However, paying the rent doesn't always ensure that the bus driver will be safe and some bus drivers have been refusing to pay the rent. Sometimes when the drivers on a specific bus route decide that they don't want to give into the demands of the gang and pay the rent they may stop driving the route to protect themselves and to send a message to the gangs. Whether or not the bus drivers pay rent to the gangs, they go to work everyday not knowing if they will return home at the end of the day. It made me a little nervous to ride the buses, and even many of the Salvadorans don't like to ride the buses because you never know what bus will be the next one to be burned by the gangs.



Now onto the families of El Salvador...

I have to admit that my knowledge of Salvadoran families is only based on my experiences with a few families, but I'm pretty sure that my observations do apply to many Salvadoran families.

The best words to describe Salvadoran families are complicated and loving.

Salvadorans tend to have a lot of kids which translates into lots of grandkids. Because the families are so big, I'm still not sure if I understand all the relations of the families I stayed with, and it seemed like every few days a new family member would show up. There were always at least a few kids running around. I think "alone time" and privacy are concepts that Salvadorans know very little about. At times it was a bit chaotic with all the people and all the kids, but it was also nice to always have someone around. Everyone helps take care of each other's kids. Aunts and uncles regularly take care of their nieces and nephews. The older kids help take care of their younger brothers, sisters, and cousins. It is especially true that the whole family helps take care of each other, but it is also true that Salvadoran families will care for friends and even complete strangers as if they were family. Everyone pitches in to help with the cooking, cleaning, farming, building, and any other tasks that need to get done. Even the kids are expected to work hard. There were a couple of times when I saw kids not wanting to work, but the norm is for them to just do whatever needs to be done and most of the time without their parents even telling them to do it. Kids help around the house because they need to and because they know they are expected to (and not because they know they are getting something in return like an allowance). How many kids in the U.S. do that?

Salvadorans have a great sense of humor and this is especially evident in their families. They are always joking around and (lovingly) making fun of each other. They love to give each other nicknames (which made it even more difficult for me to learn who everyone is because i had to learn their real name and their nickname!). I love how they are so blunt and honest with how they joke with each other and just in normal conversations. Everybody is always in everybody else's business and it's hard to keep secrets.

While families in El Salvador are very supportive and loving of each other, there are also signs of weakness in their families. I can think of very few nuclear families where the wife and husband are on their first marriage and all of the kids living with them are biologically theirs. There are step-children and half-brothers and sisters and "adopted" kids. Many Salvadorans do not get married because they cannot afford to pay for even the legal paperwork, and a wedding ceremony is even further out of the question. Perhaps in part because marriage is less common and for many other reasons, many couples don't tend to stay together for life.

One issue is that the men are often absent from their families for a number of reasons. One reason is that many fathers, sons, uncles, grandsons were killed during the war. They left behind wives and children who have had to learn to live without them.

Another reason why the men are absent from home is that they have left to find work. Some men leave the rural areas and go to the larger cities in El Salvador to work. Some men travel to neighboring countries to find work. And many Salvadoran men have migrated to the U.S. to find work. Whether the father has gone to the city or to the U.S., he will send money back home. There are so many Salvadoran families who depend on money that is sent from family members living in the U.S. Without this money many would not survive. Some will work for a few years in the U.S. where they can earn much more money than they ever could in El Salvador, and then they will return when they have enough money saved up. However, the men don't always return, especially those who have migrated to the U.S. Some find new wives and new families and stop sending money back. I think that most have the intention of returning to El Salvador, but once they realize how much better life is in the U.S. they just stay. This tares up families and leaves kids without dads.

Men are also absent from families because of the violence of the gangs. They often abandon their families when they join the gangs (or their families disown them) and they leave behind young wives and little kids when the gang members are killed in gang activities. The gangs also murder those young men who won't join or those who won't give in to the demands of the gangs. The absence of men is creating a very vicious cycle. Young boys have very few positive role models in their own families. It's rare for boys to see what a faithful relationship with a woman looks like and it is rare for them to have a father, or brother, or uncle, or grandpa who they can look up to and strive to be like.

The men shouldn't get all the blame though. Salvadoran women will leave their men. A woman may leave because her boyfriend or husband was unfaithful or because he couldn't provide for her and her kids. Sometimes survival has to come before anything else and if a woman can find someone who can feed her kids I don't think it is our place to judge her for leaving a man who cannot feed her kids.

While Salvadoran families certainly have more than their fair share of problems and difficulties, these problems and difficulties do not diminish their strength and love.

Showing Pictures

Earlier this week we crammed about 14 of my family members into our little living room and I showed all my pictures from my trip. I was pretty proud of my technological skills- I made a DVD with all my pictures and even added music. As my pictures (all 767 of them) were displayed I explained them and told a few stories. It took about 45 minutes to show all my pictures, but I didn't even come close to telling about everything I did on my trip, all the people I spent time with, and all that I learned. It was very nice to have a very good audience who was genuinely interested in learning about my experiences. They made some good observations and asked some good questions. It helped to have some "outside" perspective from people who knew very little about El Salvador and hadn't experienced what I have. They noticed things and made comments on things that I completely overlooked. Hopefully as I keep talking to other people about my trip and I keep telling my stories I will continue to learn from those that I am telling the stories to.


My uncle said something like "Gee, it seems all you did was go to things about death." I didn't realize just how many places and events related to death I had gone to. I visited the University of Central America where the 6 Jesuit priests and the two women were murdered, the chapel where Archbishop Oscar Romero was assassinated, Romero's tomb, I went to the march to remember the one year anniversary of the death of the mining activist, the march against violence in the town where the two Lutheran pastors were killed, we visited Jorge's tomb a few times, we went to El Mozote where about 1,000 people were massacred, we visited another little massacre site, I went to the funeral of the sister of one of the Lutheran pastors, and we visited the memorial for Father Rutilio Grande and the old man and the little boy that were killed with him.

I didn't realize how much of my trip was related to death in part because I hadn't looked at all my pictures all together like that before and in part because I did not feel "weighed down" by all of this death. Looking back now I can see that there was a lot related to death on my trip, but I never felt overwhelmed or depressed for long. Even when I went to these places and learned about the death that occurred, it wasn't very long before I was reassured and comforted by the hope and life of the Salvadorans. Again and again I was amazed by how Salvadorans could go on in spite of (or perhaps because of) all the death and suffering they had experienced. I'm pretty sure if I had gone through even part of what some of my Salvadoran friends have gone through, I would have given up long ago.

I mentioned that one thing that I learned about was having hope and a question that followed this was "Do you really see hope in El Salvador?" For me (and from what I gathered for my family who had just seen all my pictures and heard some stories) it is very difficult to have hope with all the extreme poverty and all the immense injustices in El Salvador. At the beginning of my trip I was very pessimistic that things could ever change or get better. I would think about all the problems and try to think of ways to fix the problem, but fixing one problem would only leave the other thousands of problems to be fixed. However, despite learning about more about all the problems in El Salvador, I left with a genuine sense of hope- I definitely left with more hope. I'm not really sure what it is, but Salvadorans have an incredible ability to have hope and faith that things will eventually get better. Unfortunately they have had to wait a long time (and probably will have to continue to have to wait) for a better life. But they keep hoping and believing. And they don't stop at just hoping and praying, Salvadorans take action. Even the Salvadorans who have next to nothing take whatever small steps they can to try to make their life better.