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 th...

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 ...

Many times there is just no choice.  You just have to suck it up, be brave, make eye-contact, and cross to the middle. From there you just have to suck it in, steady your nerves, and wait for a break.  I'll confess, I am not too proud to play the "helpless gringa" card if I am caught in a particularly snarly street-crossing situation.  With a smile and a wave I can usually still stop traffic. Sometimes, there is a better choice:  use the pasarela . "What is a pasarela ?" you ask.  Well, if you google translate this term you might call it a "runway" or "catwalk."  "Catwalk" is a pretty good description.  In El Salvador, a  pasarela  is the walkway which pedestrians use to get across busy streets.  Typically, pasarelas  require the user to ascend 2 or 3 flights of stairs, walk across the catwalk and then descend 2 or 3 flights of stairs on the opposite side of the road. Now, as you might imagine, climbing up a bunch of s...

The coffin was so small.  She was a tiny woman.  Cut flowers rested in a vase on top of the casket and in another on top of the altar:   bright white lilies and creamy calla lilies. Death brings white flowers. Rows of red, aqua and beige plastic chairs were set up in rows under the covered corridor along the back of the parking lot.  This is where church happens on Sunday, where pastors and community groups meet, where fiestas happen.  This is where I found a young woman sitting alone.  There had been others with her during the night, but for a little while the young woman and the body of her mother were alone.  Four white candle flames flickered in the breeze.  We hugged.  We sat.  We talked a little. As synod workers arrived for their day, some glanced in our direction.  Others paused to give a "good morning" or a hug.  Cars parked and people began their days. The body had arrived at about 10:30 PM.  Five or six ...

On May 13th, our little team headed up to our sister church to meet up with the youth group and do a workshop on the theme of migration.  This is the same workshop that my husband has been leading around and about - an introduction to US Migration laws and how the laws and enforcement practices impact Salvadoran families.  The two of us spent some quality time retooling the workshop to make it a little more interactive and appropriate for youth.  We added in photos and removed some of the detailed slides.  The biggest change was the introduction of written scenarios or character stories.  We planned for youth to read these as discussion-starters which we would then follow with the informational power point slides. We started strong, singing Caminando en la luz de Dios (our Spanish version of We are Marching in the Light of God ).  Everyone was clapping and the words are easy so the youth and the moms caught on quickly.  Then we shared the story of Je...

She came to the United States to study at a graduate school with a student visa.  Her husband and children remained in El Salvador.  After graduation, she got a job offer at a business which sponsored her employment visa.  Her husband also secured an employment visa and the family settled in a small city in the US.  The children were young and quickly became fluent in English.  The parents' English was already pretty good, and improved over time.  Eventually the parents applied for permanent residency.  There were times when the family resided in the US "illegally" or without current documents because their document renewal papers were stuck in a bogged-down system.  The family paid thousands of dollars to immigration lawyers to make sure they followed a correct process.  The mother became a naturalized US citizen. This is one story of migration from El Salvador to the United States.  The pathways by which Salvadoran families establish...