For those of you who have not heard about the military overthrowing Manuel Zelaya, president of Honduras, yesterday morning, consider yourself informed.Sunday morning at dawn the Honduran military (between 200 – 300 troops) took the president from his home and flew him to Costa Rica.This was all in response to Zelaya’s plan to hold a national vote the same day, where the country would be asked their opinion if a referendum should be held to change the constitution.Polls were to open just an hour after he was taken into the hands of the military.
Zelaya’s presidential term is up in January 2010.He would like to run for a second term, that which is not allowed under current Honduran law, which is why he was pushing for a change in the constitution.The national vote had been ruled unconstitutional by Congress and the Supreme Court, and was not backed by the military.In response to the lack of support from the military in organizing the vote, Zelaya canned the head of the armed forces, who was later reinstated by the Supreme Court.Since Zelaya was going to push forward with the vote, Congress and the military took drastic measures, and took him out of power.
Michelleti, the leader of Congress, was sworn in as interim president until January, just hours after Mel was ousted.Presidential elections are scheduled for November.One of the first things Michelleti did was imposed a 9pm – 6am curfew in the city for Sunday and Monday.Supposedly a fake resignation letter, “written” by Mel Zelaya, was presented to Congress.Mel refuses that he resigned from his position as Honduran President, and in the eyes of Congress, Michelleti is now president.
Today Zelaya met with other leftist leaders from Latin America to discuss the happenings, where much support has been shown for Zelaya.There has been talk of Venezuela invading Honduras if Mel is not put back into the presidential position.The problem is that there is a lot of talk, and nobody really is quite sure what is going on.
The coup has had little effect on us here at the Ranch.We have been affected in small ways - our travel this weekend has been restricted, as travel across the country has been strongly discouraged due to possible protests and riots.Yesterday all morning the country was without power, all lines of communication had been cut (cell phones weren’t working, and apparently all news programs had been cut from the air).I initially thought it was due to the weather, since during the rainy season it is not uncommon to have frequent power outages.However, others were saying differently.
I have heard from friends that live in Tegucigalpa, the capital city, that overall things are “calm” in the city.However, there is heavy military presence, especially around the presidential palace and other governmental buildings.The military has blocked off several roads, and there are occasional protests and riots.Tear gas has been used on protesters, who have taken to throwing rocks at military, burning piles of tires in the streets, etc.
Well, I think this is enough information for now.I’ll do my best to keep my blog updated.But for the most recent information check either CNN or BBC.
I assure you that for now we are all fine here at NPH.Thank you to those of you who have emailed or call to make sure we’re all safe!
Thursday morning we heard on the news of the 7.1 earthquake that shook Honduras, Guatemala and Belize, along with warnings of a tsunami that was soon to follow. This just the day before taking off for our medical brigade to Honduras. Due to the concerns of the team, we elected to send the "advance team" to scope out the situation. The "Advance Team" was made up of our fearless leader Dr. Patrick Mason, in-country team leader Annie (myself), and our moral and spiritual leader Dino Tintin.
After another thrilling landing on the shortest runway in the world, the advance team was deployed on our mission. We quickly scoped out the situation, and decided to do some recon at the nearest Espresso Americano with a Mochacino in hand. Following an uneventful trip to NPH we determined that our immediate surroundings were safe. We received advance word from the priests up in Olanchito that the brigade sites up north were safe and uneffected by the earthquake. The only obstacle was one bridge that had been taken out by the quake.
After carb-loading with pasta the evening before, on Saturday morning we headed out on our first mission to Comayagua for a hearty Dunkin' Donuts breakfast - which consisted of a bagel sandwich and multiple cups of coffee. We then continued on our way to Hogar Tierra Santa (the Holy Land) - an orphanage near Comayagua. At the orphanage we met a team from the University of Minnesota and decided to join forces to evaluate the 130 children at the home.
We set up clinic in the school run by teachers that are employed by the orphanage. We had to be creative and utilize the facilities available to set up a make shift clinic. The outdoor hallways were used for signing in and pre-clinic, and 3 classrooms were used for the physical assessments. Our examination tables were a teacher's desk in one room, and in the other two rooms 3 student's desks were pushed together.
(Photo - Pat and I standing in the main street in town to get to the orphanage)
Over the next two days we were able to see over 80 of the children providing the first complete physical examination many of them had ever had. We helped to develop the first medical record system for the home. It was a great privilege to work with several global studies students from the University of Minnesota that organized the trip and helped to care for the children in the home. Overall, it was a great trip, and hopefully will lead to an ongoing relationship.
Having completed our mission, we returned to our home base at Hotel Honduras Maya for some margarita refreshments (Christine - no worries. Pat says "I did not partake in ANY of the margarita celebration")
Monday being the traditional day of rest for medical brigades in Honduras (that may or may not be true), we decided that day 3 of our trip should consist of intense brigade planning poolside in the morning (when Annie managed to get severely burned in the 10am sun...). This was followed by tracking down our medications we ordered from Germany which were stuck in customs, and then arranging the pickup from the office near Casa Angeles. While there we visited children in the special needs home.
To celebrate our success in getting our box of medications out of customs, we decided to make our cab driver swing by Espresso Americano so we could get our fix of Mochacinos. After stopping at the first one, we received the devastating news that their granita machine was out 0f order. Our advance team put our heads together, and found another Espresso Americano where we were successful in finding our delightful frozen goodness.
Fully satisfied, we returned to our base at Hotel Honduras Maya to continue our brigade planning.
Overall we feel our mission was successful. We found no significant earthquake damage, but did find numerous moccacinos which has kept us going strong until now. We are now anxiously awaiting the arrival of the main force to complete our brigade in Olanchito. The team arrives tomorrow, and we take off on Wednesday for our site up in the mountains of northern Honduras.
Advance Team here signing out for now. More brigade details to follow.
This blog was composed by Advance Team leader (Pat) and In-Country leader (Annie)
P.S. Wanted to send a shout out to my "little sister" in Maryland (Pat's daughter) Casey and all her friends who follow my blog.
The food at NPH Peru for the most part was pretty good. Breakfast was usually a couple rolls - sometimes it would have a slice of ham inside, or stuffed with grapes or olives. Lunch typically was rice, occasionally some type of meat, lettuce and tomato salad, potatoes, and some type of fruit juice. I found it interesting that they don't eat tortillas there, but potatoes instead, as that is one of the most abundant crops of the country, or so I was told. Dinners were always soup or something similar (breakfasts on Saturday and Sunday were also some type of soup). One typical desert of Peru, which is what we had my first night there as dinner, is called "mazamorra", and is made of purple corn. The easiest way of describing the consistency is the following. When I worked at ChildServe (an intermediate care facility for mentally retarded children) during college, there were several children that couldn't have normal liquids, since they didn't have a proper swallow reflex. So, we would add thickener to their drinks so they could swallow it easier. This dinner reminded me of drinking thickened juice - not really a pleasant experience.
At lunch one of my first days at the home, a kid comes up to me with a bowl of of something that looked like squished tomatoes and some other various things, and asked if I wanted any. I asked what it was, and I could have sworn he said something like "we call this Ecuador". I asked him what he said, but he had already turned his back and was on his way to the next table. I called him back to ask again, and sure enough he said "This is Ecuador. We're sick of talking about chile." That's what they call hot sauce. Haha, funny kid!
Another day during lunch, a herd of unknown men wandered into the dining room carrying huge sacks of shrimp. I asked the kids I was eating with what was going on, and they told me that every week these men come to donate shrimp. The next time I looked up, a man snuck around the corner, video camera in hand, and began documenting the event. He was the most animated cameraman I think I've ever seen in my life. Since the kids told me this happens there every week, I started to just ignore what was going on, and concentrated on finishing my lunch. I had just stuffed my mouth with rice, I look up, and sure enough, there's the camera. Just inches from my face. Due to the lack of filming etiquete and obvious lack of asking permission to video somebody, the man immediately started drilling me with questions - where am I from, what am I doing at NPH, asked me about the kids, asked if I liked shrimp, my full name, etc. He's lucky I didn't spit my rice on the camera while trying to answer his questions. We later heard that this actually aired on the tv. I'm pretty sure though that the only thing anybody saw was my nose, since he was filming SO close to my face. The kids I was eating with thought it was absolutely hilarious. Come to find out, this does NOT happen every week, and apparently it was a big deal that this crew came to the house.
Related to #2 - when we were eating our "dish of marinated raw fish" after visiting the construction site for the new home, I noticed a sign that said there was a ban on eating shrimp from the month of January to the end of April, in order to allow the shrimp to reproduce. I then asked the director how it was that we were eating shrimp in the home, if it was supposedly banned. He told me that the authorities go to restaurants to "bust" those that are not obeying this law. If somebody is caught with shrimp, it is taken away, and this is how the shrimp arrived to our home and into our bellies the following day. Nothing better than eating "illegal" shrimp.
There is a 14-yr-old boy in the home that has three chicken he raises on his own. They call him "pollito" - little chicken. He doesn't appreciate it too much when everybody is constantly asking him when they get to eat his chicken.
The watering process in the home amazed me. Since the coastal region of Peru where the home is located, gets little rain, huge efforts must be made to keep the grass green. The way they "watered their lawn" was opening the water valve, and just letting it completely flood the lawn. The first night they did it while I was there, we had just come out of dinner, and I asked one of the caregivers what was happening with the water. It looked as though a water pipe had broken. She didn't seem concerned, and just told me they were watering. After the water rose a bit, all of the kids and caregivers went out with their buckets, and scooped water, and threw it into areas the water was unable to reach. It was really quite the experience.
And speaking of experiences - I went white water rafting down the Rio Lunahuana my first weekend there as well. It was absolutely amazing - the water was a bit more rough than we were expecting, but I only nearly fell out maybe once or twice. So, I was successful and really wanted to do it again before leaving, however never found the time. Hmm, next time!
Some of my favorite words they use in Peru - buenazo (really good), feazo (really ugly or really not cool), aquicito (right here), allacito (right there), etc. In general, they just add "azo" to anything to exagerate the word, which isn't done in Central America, but I really love it. There they would use "isimo" or "ote" at the end of the word.
I felt the earth shake for the first time in my life while I was in Peru. One day I was standing outside with the nurse talking, and we heard some rumbling in the distance. I immediately thought it was thunder of course, and then just a few seconds later the earth was trembling, and all the kids ran from their rooms. Turned out it was just a small earthquake and everything was fine.
In all of my travels, never once have I missed a connection, until my trip home from Peru. We left an hour and a half or so late from Lima, making me miss my connection in Miami. My flight out of Miami was again delayed by 2 hours, making me arrive at my gate in Chicago just after they closed the doors. I woke up at 3am that day. This was just after 10pm, therefore I got stranded in Chicago overnight, and flew first thing in the morning to Des Moines. I was then mis-directed by the agent as to where I needed to catch the shuttle to the hotel. Something like half an hour later, I finally figured out where I needed to be and was happily asleep by 11:30ish. I guess it was finally my turn to have some bad luck during my travels...and that wraps up my Peruvian experience.
This is how I was greeted once in a little shop in Canete, when I had gone in to use the internet one day. Yes, that's right - can you imagine a world where you have to travel at least an hour to get to reliable internet access? And, what's even better is that this drive can turn into much more than just sitting in an overcrowded van for an hour.
I had to go into town one day to check emails for work, and I was going to attempt the connection in Lunahuana, where our home is (which is only about a 5 minute drive in either a taxi or van). However, when I went out to catch the van, I happened to get into one that was going straight to Canete. I figured since they were heading right there, rather than stopping and waiting forever in Lunahuana, I would just go with them. This would "assure" me of good connection and limit my frustrations in trying to get the other place to work. Well, turns out that I made the wrong decision...
About half way to Canete, going up a pretty steep incline, in the middle of the desert, the van started shaking uncontrollably. Every time the driver stepped on the gas, we all would nearly get thrown into the seats in front of our own. Nearly everybody in the van (we had 19 people in a 15 passenger van - and mind you they were not all small people, and most of them came along with bags of who-knows-what that they needed to get from point A to point B) started shouting at the driver to let us out. He however, refused to give up on his van. He kept on trying and trying, until finally we were all nearly to the point of passing out from the gas fumes that were quickly filling the van. I was waiting for all of us to go up in flames at any minute. He finally pulled over, and everybody piled out - except for me of course. I got pinned when the driver got out and threw his seat backwards so he could get at the engine or whatever it was that was underneath there. His seat ended up in my lap, and to my immediate right was an elderly woman, and sitting next to her, facing the other direction, was another elderly man - both of which could hardly move. I finally couldn't stand the smell any more, and eventually crawled over the both of them and got to some fresh air.
A couple other modes of transport passed us after we had stopped, and most passengers piled in to other overcrowded van or overcrowded taxis (they would pile anywhere from 6-7 people in the taxis). Just as I was about to flag somebody down, the driver started up his van again, and assured us we would be able to go. So, I climbed back in, and hoped for the best.
The poor driver of our van - lost most of his passengers, therefore only made maybe 15 soles (about $5) for driving an hour. If he would have made it with a full van, he would have gotten maybe $17.
Once we got into town, things didn't get much better. He was FLYING (probably trying to make up lost time therefore lost money). He stepped hard on the brakes, nearly putting me on the floor since I was sitting in a seat right by the door, therefore there was nothing in front of me to stop me (and seatbelts are obviously unheard of down there...). We then felt a *thud*, and heard a yelp. Sure enough - looking through the back window I saw the poor dog was had just run over, thrashing along the side of the road. One of the women in the van started screaming as though it was HER that we had just run over. Oh, it was terrible...
After that, everybody in the van simultaneously did the sign of the cross as they tend to do before traveling, to protect their "viaje".
On March 16th, I embarked on my first journey to South America - en route to NPH Peru, now home to 47 orphaned, abandoned or abused/neglected children, ages ranging from one month to eighteen years. This is NPHs newest and smallest home.
I arrived to Lima late that night, wound up at a decent hotel in the city, and was picked up the following morning. NPH is located in Lunahuana, Peru, about two and a half hours south of Lima (depending on who is driving - our driver was quite quick. I don't think anybody passed US the entire way. I did definitely hear our tires squealing occasionally which only made the drive that much more exciting.) Much of the drive is straight down the Pan-American highway, along the coast of Peru. A beautiful drive, especially upon getting a bit closer to the home - lots of vineyards and other fruit/vegetable fields, located along the Lunahuana River. Lunahuana is well-known for their "Pisco" and wine - so one of the unpleasant things about the drive to the home was the mounds of rotting grapes along the sides of the road. After the winemakers are done with the grapes, they just throw them out in heaps onto the roadside, and eventually they are set on fire. It's a terrible, terrible smell.
The home is temporary located in an old hotel. After the earthquake in 2007, the area lost a lot of its tourism (mostly people coming in from Lima), therefore the hotel was closed down, and now is rented out to NPH. It's a pretty cute place. They are currently building their new home in San Vicente de Canete. We went to visit the plot of land - looks great, but the mosquitoes ate me alive. I'm still itching from them...
Afterwards the national director from the home took us out to dinner, where I tried "ceviche". I've never learned what the exact translation is for this - Babel Fish says it is "a dish of marinated raw fish". Appetizing, no? I never in my life thought I would be adventurous enough to try it, but they bought it for us, so I was forced to at least try a bit. And, disgustingly enough, I actually liked it! Wow, Latin America has really changed me - when I first went down in 2005 the only type of seafood I could bring myself to eat was pre-cooked shrimp - no shell, no legs involved. Now I'm eating raw fish - that's so wrong...
My first week in the home was pretty tame - I spent a lot of time just trying to figure out how things worked, and obviously getting to know the kids. My first weekend was the Lunahuana Grape Festival, so I went into "town" (it really is quite the ghost-town during the week, but people come out of the woodwork on the weekends) with a volunteer from Washington, and an "ex-mex" from NPH Mexico that is down there volunteering for a year. We met some pretty interesting characters - ranging from some hippies from the city that were there selling bracelets, necklaces, etc, playing African drums, and playing with fire as well. This guy we talked to was planning a trip to Europe, where he would join a circus he had been a part of previously. So interesting.
One of the "perks" of the Grape Festival, was the free wine tasting. Unfortunately, those folks like their wine pretty sweet - it was described to me as tasting like Dimetapp cough syrup (by my friend, in the photo below - the one in the middle). Naturally, I had to try it for myself. Sure enough, that description was pretty fitting. The only wine I actually enjoyed was the dry red wine. At $4 a bottle, it wasn't too bad. My drink of choice however was the Pisco Sour or Pisco Mango. Pisco, I just learned comes from the Quechua word, pisqu - little bird - and is made from grapes. It is the common drink of the people there. Our favorite drink - not because of the taste but because of the name - was "Tom Warry by Happy" - intended to be of course "don't worry be happy".
A little later on we ran into these 2 other guys who were looking for a good time in this small town of nothing. So we all just ended up hanging out in the central park after the rest of the town went to sleep. Turns out they were 18 years old, and both fashion designers. Haha, I really enjoyed it when they asked the three of us if we knew a bunch of these other famous designers he had met. Please look at the photo to the right, of the three of us from NPH, and tell me if you think it looks like we're into "fashion" and familiar with all of the latest designers. Come on kids...
Christmas festivities began last night with a Christmas play put on by the religion department, followed up by a typical Christmas dinner of Tamales down on the soccer courts by the boys' homes. The activities lasted until midnight - with games and a massive bonfire (marshmallows were roasted before it got too hot to stand next to) to keep us warm on an already fairly warm evening.
This morning the kids woke up to open their presents and had a typical breakfast. It is Ranch tradition that the children walk to a nearby town on Christmas day to give away games, toys, clothes, and even food, to families that otherwise probably didn't get Christmas gifts. This walk is always my favorite thing about Christmas here. Even though our children don't have it all, they have what they need, and a little bit extra that they are able to share with their neighbors.
Unfortunately this year, Casa Suyapa (the home our littlest ones live in) was left with their toys and extra things locked up. The caregivers forgot to leave out the gifts to give away before leaving on Christmas vacation. So we didn't go to the villages with them, but stayed home and hung out watching movies all morning and played some games in the afternoon.
Tonight we will celebrate the Christmas mass.
I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas, and I wish you all Peace in the New Year!! Annie
Well friends, it's true - I've made it into one of the two main newspapers in Honduras yet again. This time however, it was my face (in 2 photos) and not just my feet. Last weekend Monica and I went to the fair in Zambrano with two great friends, who are university students from NPH. Zambrano is a town located 36 kilometers from Tegucigalpa, the other direction from the Ranch. It is the town that Denis is from, and he invited us for the weekend to stay with his sister and her family.
The photo in the upper left corner is of the 4 of us playing a game, and on the right page is a terrible photo of me after being completely freaked out - read on. The evening proved to be quite eventful - we rode a Honduran Ferris Wheel. Sounds hilarious that we were all quite scared to get on it (for reasons other than the simple fact that it was put together in Honduras). Denis and Jairo had never been on one before. While watching it before getting on, we all 4 at the same time said "wow, it's going really fast!" I know it sounds like an oxymoron to say that a ferris wheel was moving quickly - but seriously, the seats would whip around once they reached the top. We all got off feeling a little ill. But GREAT experience. (photo to left - Jairo holding onto the Ferris Wheel for dear life)
We followed that up by going to see the main attraction at the fair - the "spider girl"!! Oh, it was hilarious. It was front page news the next morning. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life, and I have absolutely no idea how they did it. It looked completely real - her face was exactly like a human face. Jairo actually touched it and said it felt real. I'm sure it was somehow a machine, but I just can't figure it out. So it was this human head, with a spider body. Once we were inside, we were all given the opportunity to touch it - I was the last one. I for some reason was feeling bad about laughing and freaking out about it, almost like I was momentarily believing it. I felt wrong about touching her face! Haha!
Anyways, so I ran out of the little shed where she was kept, and of course the reporters were RIGHT there waiting for me, taking my photo and asking me why i was so scared. haha, so hilarious.
So it was a fun weekend. Friday night I stayed at the Maya (fancy Honduran hotel in Teguc - pool, "luke-warm tub", saunas and all) and spoiled myself, then a group of us went out for a night on the town. Saturday we went to Zambrano and stayed at Denis's sister's house, which was the nicest home I've ever been in down here! Her and her husband built it themselves. Two story, beautiful home. Sunday we went back to Teguc and I stayed another night at the Maya with Monica (nice because that way we split the cost of the room!!) Monday we ran around and got Christmas shopping done, and got back to the Ranch early afternoon.
I arrived back to Central America the day after Thanksgiving - just in time to arrive to the home in Honduras for Quinceaneros, a yearly party for all boys and girls that turned 15 within the past year. Two days later I had the priviledge of traveling to NPH Guatemala with two soccer teams (boys and girls) from Honduras, for the Annual NPH Soccer Tournament. The purpose of my travel was actually for work - I met up with another member of the Medical Services team, with the goal of working on preparations for our Annual Medical Workshop, which is to be held next April, in a town just outside of Antigua, Guatemala. I am proud to announce that the Honduras boys team brought home the Cup (photo above), the girls finishing in third place (out of the 5 Central American countries that were able to participate). The week was a lot of fun - reuniting with some friends and kids that I met in Guatemala when I was there last year, and also reuniting with friends from El Salvador. The kids really like getting to meet kids from other homes, and learning about the other countries and their homes.
Photo to the right - when I was in El Salvador last October, I had made a bet with Irma (university student from NPH). I bet the Honduran girls would win, and she bet on the El Salvador team. The loser had a wear a jersey from the other country - the original bet was that it had to be worn for a week without washing it. As you can see by the photo, Honduras won! I was nice on her and didn't make her wear the jersey the whole week, however she did have to wear it during the Honduras vs. Salvador boys game the next morning. I figured that was harsh enough. For the record, the Honduran boys won that game as well.
Photo above - me with my Salvadoran girls.
Photo at right - Tony (house director El Sal), myself and Barrasa (coach for both Salvador teams) showing our support for El Salvador
24.11.08
Hello friends. This is just a quick update regarding my position on the Medical Services team of NPHI. A couple of weeks ago I was offered a new position as Regional Medical Coordinator of Peru and Bolivia. This is the same work that I am currently doing with Honduras and El Salvador. I have accepted this position, and have left the position as Communications Coordinator for the medical team. I am pretty excited about this new opportunity to work with the clinics of these two fairly new homes.
I take off this week to head back to Central America for a few months. One week in Guatemala, followed by a month in Honduras, another in El Salvador, a week in Nicaragua for the NPH International Board Meeting, then a week or so at our home in Haiti. Yes a lot of traveling in my quite near future. Let's hope it all goes as smoothly as possible.
For those of you that I wasn't able to meet up with in my quick trip home, hopefully we'll be able to get together next time around.
My last week at the home in El Salvador, I was invited to join a group of fellow Americans who were visiting their sponsored children at NPH El Salvador, on an excursion.They had a trip into San Salvador scheduled, and since I’ve been to El Salvador three times now and still hadn’t spent any time in the city, I thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity.
**WARNING - there are some details here that might not be appropriate for all readers. Proceed at your own discretion**
The day was pretty much dedicated to visiting important historical sites from times of the war, the war that ended just 16 years ago, that killed 75,000 Salvadorans, a war that was largely funded by the US. Our day revolved mostly around the life and tragic death of Archbishop Oscar Romero.The day started at the home where Romero lived the last couple years of his life fighting for the rights of the poor, followed by visiting the church where he was shot and killed on the altar.The vestments he was killed in have been preserved in his home – a chill came over me when I walked into the room and saw them hanging up, and saw photos of his assassination and funeral. We stood from the very spot Romero was shot from.
We finished the day off visiting the Central American University (UCA), a Jesuit University in San Salvador, where 6 Jesuit priests were killed for their dedication to serving the poor, along with their housekeeper and her 15 year old daughter, in 1989. In the museum, the clothes they were killed in have been preserved. They have on display an album of the photos taken as they were all found that morning. I was a little hesitant to look at the photos - I've never had such a knot in my stomach. Most of them had been shot in the head - most of their faces completely deformed, unrecognizable. Their brains literally "blown out" - a photo of one of the victim's brain laid in the grass several feet away from their body. I've never felt such an intense emotion in my life as I did that day, being present at these sites and seeing the pictures.
(for article see http://www.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/WPnov16.html)
As I walked through the museum at UCA, I read a bit about the Massacre at El Mozote, a largely forgotten about massacre here in the US - but the largest massacre in modern Latin-American history. We unfortunately were pressed for time, so I didn't get the full history. In the display cases were bullet shells, military helmets, bones from various victims, skulls of children. It wasn't until my last evening at the home, as I was chatting it up with one of the older girls, I will call her "Luz". She is 20 years old (22 years old based on her papers, which she said are incorrect since she was born during the war, it was impossible to get legal documentation of births), and since she was one of the girls put in charge of making my stay at the home a pleasant one, I got to know her and her 2 good friends fairly well. That night, I had no idea that I was about to get a history lesson by a young woman...a story of her family's history, her childhood, that would share with me many of the incredibly disturbing details of the Massacre at El Mozote, and the painful history of her life, as recounted to her by her father.
This young woman grew up in a town near El Mozote, right near the Honduran border. She told me about all of the people of her town being killed - all of those that weren't able to flee in time. Apparently one woman her family knew well survived this massacre, said she's never been the same since. The woman hid in the nearby river, as everyone in her town was murdered by the military. She witnessed them burn her husband and children. Their town was left deserted. The only native people there now are those that were lucky enough to have fled to Honduras before the military came in, and have since returned.
Before the raids and massacre, many people buried their valuables, and marked the site somehow, to allow for it to be found later. Upon the return of those who fled, the poor would go to these sites to dig up those valuables that were left behind. However, often times when they would dig out a site, they would find body bags, filled with those who had been killed. These sites had also been marked - the mass burial sites - and often times it was difficult to distinguish between where valuables had been left, and where bodies had been laid to rest.
Luz told me of a time she went with her father to dig up a site. She said all they found were green bags, filled with decaying bodies. She'll never forget the smell.
Luz's family had lost their home to the military three times. Each time as it was destroyed and burned, her family would live in the streets, and her father would rebuild. Finally after the third time, they gave up and building and lived in a field to wait things out.
Her brothers were 11, 12 and 13 years old, and were forced to fight in the war. Her mother was dying of cancer, and her father dedicated himself to taking care of her during this time. Her father would lend their home (when they had one) to both sides - to the military as well as to the guerrillas. He did so to keep from getting killed. Things got ugly when the military discovered he was a traitor - they took him from his home, ripped his shirt off his back, tied it around his head as a blindfold, and led him off to be killed. Several of his campesino friends arrived just in time to save his life, as they killed off the few military men that had captured him. After this his friends took Luz's family and hid them in a cave, knowing the military was still after him to take his life. She has no concept of how long they stayed hidden there, hidden in caves with so many other peasants hiding from the military.
After the war was over, many of the people from those villages had a difficult time moving back home. They had fears of their villages being haunted, after the massacre that had taken place. Her father however did go back to their village to build a home for his family, but everywhere he dug he dug up decaying bodies. All the land in their town had been left as a mass burial ground.
When I return to El Salvador in January, we will hopefully go visit her father in their village. She hasn't been home in 5 years. The last time she was there with her sister, they only spent one night, as it brought back so many horrible memories of their past. However, she expressed desire to go back, and invited me to go along, to show me that piece of her life. Her father had strong feelings about what Romero was trying to defend and protect. He attended his masses, was actually present at the mass he was killed at, and attended his funeral, and witnessed the killing of another 30-50 of the 250,000 there to mourn his death. We hope to find Luz's father when we go in January - I'm sure he has some amazing stories to share.
To read more on Archbishop Romero, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Romero
