Walking With El Salvador

They dance. They have friends. They stay up late doing homework. They text. They work when they can. They go to high school nearby. They do spoken word. They live with their parents. They ride the bus for 3 hours to study at a university. They are active in their churches. They are artists. They care for babies. They have babies. They stay up late doing homework. They play the drums. They play cell phone games. They play soccer games. They have friends. They have friends who have died. They have friends who have been killed. They love their community. They come home before dark. They are afraid of their community. There are rules in their community. They are organized. They are organizing in the community. They have gifts. They have talents. They have goals. They have dreams. They love their community. They want to live in their community. They want to live. The rainy season had not quite taken hold, but the afternoon skies were gray and threatening.  

My friend was diagnosed with cancer.  The last months of his life passed quickly, well-blessed with trips with his family, visits with friends, and a giant circle of love and prayer support.  Today, his life will be celebrated in his church, where he served as a tireless and generous worker. I was in El Salvador when the decision to discontinue treatment was made.  From the beginning, the pastor, church leaders and families of our sister church in El Salvador reached out to accompany my friend and his family in prayer.  They wrote messages and prayers on the Facebook page created by the family.  The hope for healing was incredibly strong, and the news that there would not be healing in this life was hard for everyone to accept. My friend visited El Salvador one time.  In that one visit, his easy manner, his comfort in communicating with actions because he spoke no Spanish, and his gift in being with children with special needs touched the families in the community.  His teen daught

Communication:  In most sistering relationships, good communication is held up as a core value.  Poor communication is held up as a significant challenge. If we natively speak English (or German, or Finish, or whatever) and our brothers and sisters natively speak Spanish, and if our only words in common are taco and sombrero, then we have an obvious communication challenge with the language itself.  Hence the occasional or persistent need for an English-Spanish translator.  Yet no matter how fluent one might be in the English and Spanish languages, without cultural context, it is almost impossible to translate effectively. At this point, I want to give a shout out to all of the really great translators who have gone over and above expectation, digging into history and context in order to be able to translate documents and conversations for folks in sistering relationships.  The focus of this blog post is not primarily directed toward translators, but to the folks speaking and writi