Walking With El Salvador

In honor of Halloween...here is the story of La Carreta Chillona This photo was taken in the Cultural House in Dulce de Nombre de Maria, Chalatenango Throughout El Salvador, the midnight sound of squeaky wheels rolling down pavement, cobbles or pathways of a town brings fear to those who hear it.  The cart passes by at the time when everyone should be asleep, so that no person of the town would be exposed to the company of cadavers traveling by cart on their funeral route.  Some believe the cart is filled with the bodies of those who have dared to look upon the squeaky cart as it passed by. Many people claim to have heard the squeaky cart, and many people will describe its distinctive adornment with skulls, but I have not yet met a person who has taken a peek as it passes by in the night. Historians believe that versions of this tale were spread throughout the Americas by Spanish rulers, who wanted to discourage the local people from venturing out after dark to conspire against

"See you at the fair!"  As we made our way to church early in the morning on Sunday, women from the community made their excuses and made their way to the bus stop.  Church is important, but the opportunity to market themselves and their products took priority. After worship, we made our way to Tonacatepeque, to the sidewalk in front of the mayor's office.  The fair was small, but the mood was hopeful.  There were not too many people buying things.  We wondered how well the event was promoted to customers. We wandered from table to table, and we did do a little Christmas shopping - which means our purchases are still top-secret!  I asked if I could take a photo of the woman who sold me a beautifully crocheted item...as a memory for the person who will receive the gift.  This creative business woman also sells natural medicine made from herbs in her garden. The hand-made items ranged from embroidered cloths and blouses, to knit and crocheted items, to hand-sewn s

Every now and then, I take a ride through San Salvador with my camera at the ready.  I stick it out the window and click...never knowing what images I might capture.  Despite the rainy weather, I managed to collect a few images from October 2014: Arbol del Fuego - Tree of Fire -- blooming in full force all across the city and countryside It's hard to appreciate just how closely we drive next to the buses when in the center of the city This photo is not auto-corrected - this is the real color of the sky on this day...the blue and white of the sky reminded me of the Salvadoran flag...which, appropriately, is flying next to the monument to the constitution The mayor's office in this municipality adjacent to San Salvador has a huge problem organizing trash pick-up Along the round-abouts on the north side of the city, people sell a variety of things, from coconuts to furniture.  During October, kites are for sale because the winds usually come and it

Chikungunya.  Most Salvadorans just call it "Chik." Chik scares people.  "Our bodies have no memory of this disease, so we cannot fight it."  It runs through family members in rapid succession.  Data indicates that the majority of victims are teens and young adults.  Parents are frightened to see their energetic youth suddenly stricken by fever, severe headache, joint pain and a red, itchy rash.  For some, the joint pain is so severe that victims cannot walk or stand, and pain seems to linger in the wrists after the other symptoms have passed.  For some, rehydration with IV fluids is needed. Clinics are inundated with cases of Chik.  Doctors are seeing four times the number of patients usually seen in a day.  Pregnant women, people with chronic illnesses and high-risk patients are hospitalized.  Treatment consists of taking acetaminophen for the pain and drinking lots and lots of fluids, especially Suero .  For some, complications occur when patients take ibupro

The town is small.  The municipality is large.  The small government clinic attends to the needs of people who do not have healthcare.  These are people who work in the informal economy and much of the care is centered around pregnancy, birth, the care of young children and of old women.  A few men come in for check-ups and vaccines.  This community north of San Salvador includes a broad range of living conditions, and the care area is huge. Today we accompanied the chief doctor, the head nurse and a health promoter as they did a home visit to investigate the death of a 2 year old boy who reportedly died of malnutrition.  We were told to prepare to walk a long distance.  We were told to carry water.  We were told that the child died because the family did not care for him properly.  There were many things which were not told.  The reality of this dead child's short life and the lives of others in the home leaked out secret by secret, breaking our hearts bit by bit. A little boy

We drove down the second most bumpy road of the day.  It was a long distance from the clinic, too far to walk for a child or for a mom who is weak from illness.  It's no wonder the mom missed her appointment.  The doctor or the health promoters sometimes walk to visit the patient, but with today's access to the health ministry's pickup truck, the team was able to drive.  As we bumped along, my friend and I almost wondered if it would be easier on our bodies to walk than to be jolted side to side, despite the hot sun. The two of us are shadowing a community-based family health team (called an "ECO").  Healthcare reform was implemented during the Funes administration, and the Salvadoran government continues to work to increase the number of ECO's in rural communities.  This ECO is based in a converted community center and depends on the cooperation and fund-raising capacity of the local mayor's office, community leaders and the medical team in order to be