El Salvador Mission Trip 2009 - An Inside View

Day 9 - El Maizal - Church in a Bathing Suit

2009-06-28T17:50:00.000-07:00

This is going to be a beach day in the west of the country near El Maizal, the fourth and last Anglican village built by ERD. Two of us worked at this site four years ago when it was a field marked out by stakes where the houses would be. The beach nearby is call Playa Metalio, a small resort about 3 miles away. Afterwards, we will celebrate the Eucharist at the church in the community of El Maizal, Divina Providencia.

We drive again by Lago Coatepeque and down to the coast, where it is 20 degrees hotter and wiltingly humid. It is astonishing to see the changes in the vegetation alone here after four years. When we pull into El Maizal, the lay reader, Virginia, and her husband, Antonio, greet us warmly. Don Antonio was the agricultural engineer who worked with ERD on the project four years ago. Educated in California, he and Virginia have moved here from San Salvador to support the development of the community. We also see Don Mauricio, caretaker of the grounds, who was our work foreman during the project.

One of the first things that we are shown is the new swimming pool. It looks cool and refreshing and overlooks the wide playing field below, used by the community as well as by church groups for soccer matches. We strike out across the field for a tour.

As we go up through the vegetation, Don Antonio points out the stand of Teca trees. The trees are at least twenty five feet high. In fact, they are pretty much a forest. We can't believe it. We helped to plant these trees, and they were about two to three feet tall. These are very special trees, which Antonio calls "green treasure", or money in the bank for the church. They are rapidly-growing, straight-grained trees used for fine furniture and artisanry. They can be sold for a very good price in about four or five years. When each one is cut and sold, they will plant a new one to sell in another ten years. Each year they have planted a stand of them until last year when they ran out of room.

Next we see the fruit and nut orchard where there are mangos, avocados, canela, cashews and other fruits that we don't recognize. The mangos have already borne fruit for several years.

This is what they looked like four years ago.
Don Antonio rattles off their names in both Spanish and English. He does not speak much English, but understands more than he lets on.

Beyond the orchard are acres and acres of corn. Each family has its own area to farm. There is also a women's agricultural school to train women from around the diocese in agricultural techniques that they can bring back to their families and villages. Each of these individual women also has a plot planted in corn, beans and peppers among other things. We are told that the seed is donated to the people of El Salvador by the Millenium Challenge Account, a US aid organization started by the Bush administration. In the case of this church community, Episcopal Relief and Developent purchases the seed and fertilizer.

Cutting through the cornfield, we enter the new village. All thirty houses are completed and inhabited. Most people have started their door gardens. The community appears to be thriving. There is a school just beyond the houses for Pre-Kinder through 2nd grade with two teachers. The place is hopping. There are plans to make a playground and community center across from the school when the resources are available.

We walk back down the road to the guesthouse and have a quick lunch on the veranda. Virginia gives us a tour of the kitchen, showing us the water filter and the sanitary conditions. She is instructing the community members in safe food preparation, artisan workshops and computer skills, as well as mentoring students, providing pastoral care and celebrating services at the church next door. One of her special concerns is for the older girls in the community who tend to drop out of school due to the cost of transportation, often becoming single mothers. She manages all of these tasks in a competent, motherly way, and it is evident the great compassion that she has for the people here.

After changing into our suits, we head to the nearby beach resort at Metalio. There are shady cabanas and a wide beach with pounding surf. Mindful of the strong undertow, several of us play in the waves while others stay in the cool shade. Coconut vendors and waitresses come by selling refreshments.

Don Antonio, who has come with us, suddenly remembers to tell us that there has been a coup this morning in Honduras and that the president has been removed. We ponder that for a while in the context of leading mission trips. One apparently should be prepared for the possibility that the government could fall - not sure how we would have handled that!

We have a delightful hour at this beautiful beach, then head back in our sandy suits to go to the afternoon service at the community chapel, Divina Providencia. There is a good crowd there by the time we arrive. Father Geoffrey celebrates the Eucharist; a small choir sings and plays guitar during the service; Virginia gives a short, but stirring homily about building each other up in Christ and giving of our time, treasure and talent. After the service we show them our pictures from the past trip, before the houses and school were built. They enjoy identifying people from the pictures. They also invite us back to the veranda for coffee.

This has been a very uplifting end to our trip. It has been especially eye-opening to see the tangible results of the ERD community development projects such as this one. We can see hope and improvement in the quality of people's lives due in small part to our efforts and those of our church. We can also observe the importance of the Episcopal church to the people whom we have met. Working together with these communities we have all made a difference and done something that we could not have done without each other.

Arriving back at the guesthouse in San Salvador, Mercedes and Blanquita are preparing their most special pupusas of pork, cheese and beans with tomato sauce to put over them and a coleslaw-type salad. It is heaven on a plate! When we can eat no more, we drift back to our rooms to pack. This trip has gone so quickly; it is hard to believe that we are leaving tomorrow.

Day 8 - History and Shopping Day

2009-06-27T20:51:00.000-07:00

Today is another touring day, but this time we will stay around San Salvador. Setting off a little later, we go to an enormous downtown mall with an underground garage, and a marble building actually embedded inside it that used to be an embassy. Our mission is to buy postcards, surprisingly hard to find, and mail them at the post office here.

As an editorial note, here is precisely where we can start to appreciate the nearly unbridgeable gap between the "haves" and the "have-nots" in El Salvador. This mall would be perfectly at home in New York, London or Paris and is doing a very brisk business, full of shoppers with high disposable incomes. Contrast this with the situation in the rural areas of the country, where the majority of the population scrapes along in grinding poverty on a few hundred dollars a year, and we start to glimpse the profound inequities that drive most of the problems here (or on the entire planet, for that matter). It is perfectly possible in any modern city, in a mall like this, to convince oneself that the poor either do not exist, or do not have it that bad. After all, life is good here.

Next we make our way through the central market to the Cathedral. This street market is a fixture in the city and for decades was frequently a site of protests, violent crime and street riots. Today things are busy and colorful.

Passing the Palacio Nacional, in view of the Cathedral, we see the area where several notorious massacres took place. Arcelio tells us of the demonstration in 1979 during which his father was killed on the steps of the Cathedral along with 1500 people. The military brought tanks and opened fire on the crowd from the roof of the Palacio Nacional, killing people as they fled for refuge in the Cathedral.

Arcelio was two; his father died the day after his second birthday. His mother's house, used by the guerilla, was later burned along with all of the family pictures. He has never seen a picture of his father.

By chance the lower level of the Cathedral, where Archbishop Romero is entombed, is open to the public for a little while. This is where the common people celebrated the mass and where, we are told, the Archbishop insisted on celebrating as well, endearing himself forever to the common people, but not to the upper classes. There are scraps of paper with prayers on them left around the tomb and addressed to Archbishop Romero, considered a saint by many. A number of people stop at his resting place in silent prayer.

Upstairs in the ornate main sanctuary completed after the war, there are breathtaking frescos and a vaulted, domed ceiling. We can see that here, in this church, some of the same inequities continue to exist. It is undeniably beautiful, however.

Our next stop is a pretty park across town to visit the Wall of the Disappeared. This is a very moving granite monument, not unlike the Vietnam Wall in Washington. It lists the names of those who were killed or disappeared from the seventies until shortly after the end of the war. Arcelio shows us his father's name and that of his two cousins. Only about 30,000 names appear; the rest of the 70 to 80,000 believed to have been killed are unknown and have their own panel dedicated to their memory. One entire section lists just the massacres alone: several hundred. The names are arranged by year and by whether they were found killed or reported disappeared. There is an unimaginable loss of life commemorated here.

After lunch at around 2:00, we visit the chapel of Divina Providencia, where Monsignor Romero was assassinated at the altar by a single bullet through the heart. We see where he fell and the doors through which the assassin fired. We are shown where the car pulled up right out front. Romero was the only witness to the identity of his killer, since the congregation was facing him. He is said to have paused silently so that no one else would turn and possibly be killed.

Unfortunately, we are unable to visit Romero's house, a few hundred feet away, where his personal effects are kept, along with photographs and the clothing that he was wearing that day. The nuns who oversee the building are short-handed and cannot open it for us today. We also find that the University of Central America, where the Jesuit martyrs are commemorated is closed today as well. We will try to return on Monday.

Our last stop for the day is at the artisan market. This is pure pleasure as we browse the colorful handcrafts and are invited "adelante" into each stall. We bargain happily for trinkets and gifts, keepsakes and souvenirs, spreading our business around.

We head back for a nice dinner, cooked by Doñas Mercedes and Blanquita, and find ourselves getting very silly. Yet, at the same time we are trying to process some of the difficult things that we have seen and are feeling. It helps to talk about these things and get them out where we can deal with them. Some of us find that we are falling in love with this country, yet it also breaks our hearts.

Day 7 - Swimming In A Volcano

2009-06-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

Today is a day for touring. We plan to go to two Mayan sites and also to Lago Coatepeque. Arcelio reminds us to take our bathing suits since we hope to swim there. Padre Alex also joins us for the day, and we head out at about 8:30.

First we visit Joya de Ceren, a site that, like Pompeii, was abandoned and covered suddenly by volcanic ash. This is unique among Mayan sites in that it has allowed archaeologists to study their daily life, culture, and even food. El Salvador has put some money into this park, and it is landscaped, clean, has a museum and knowledgeable guides. We patronize a small souvenir vender there, buying some inexpensive gifts and mementos.

Nearby is a pyramid ruin known as San Andres, another fascinating and beautiful site, covered with expanses of green grass. We walk around on the pelota fields and look into an excavation of the tunnels underneath the complex. There is also a colonial indigo factory on the grounds, one of the biggest producers of indigo in the Americas during its time.

Since it's getting close to lunch time, we drive into Santa Ana to a food court in a big mall. There are the usual American fast food chains plus a number of comida tipica places. The longest lines turn out to be at Papa Gino's.

We drive back to El Congo, where Arcelio and his family live. This is the third of four Anglican villages built by Episcopal Relief and Development. Arcelio's was the first house to be built here. The road looks better, the trees and gardens have matured, and there is a playing field across the street now. Arce shows us the expansion that he has made to his house, which is roomy and comfortable.

The school, however, is closed. It can be difficult for the private schools in some of these areas to compete with the public schools, since they are free. The government has also just announced that it will pay for uniforms, shoes, and books for public school students.

As we walk up the street, Arce tells us that there are 30 houses and a total of 34 families here. Each family seems to have a small garden, plus the church has a manzana planted in coffee. Apparently this property was formerly part of a coffee finca. Arce also notes that, gracias a Dios, so far none of the village youth are involved with the gangs.

Arcelio's wife and two children come with us for the afternoon at Lago Coatepeque. This is a gorgeous volcanic lake with spectacular views. Apparently the top blew off this volcano long, long ago, and the caldera filled with water. It is a cool and refreshing day trip from most parts of the country.

After a long ride down to the shoreline, we park on the grass at a beach area and walk over to a pier men and boys are hand-lining some sort of freshwater fish.

Most of us venture into the water and swim for about an hour. It is also wonderful to sit in the cool shade and just drink in the beauty of this spot. All too soon, it's time to head back. We drop off Arce's family and make our way through heavy traffic back to San Salvador for a savory beef stew at the guest house, saying our goodbyes to Padre Alex with the hope that we'll see him again before we leave.

Day 6 - Visiting El Oriente

2009-06-25T20:15:00.000-07:00

Today we are headed out to the eastern part of the country: Usulutan and Bajo Lempa, on the Lempa River. Getting started at about 8:45, we take Cain Hidalgo with us, an impressive lay missioner with a quiet, dedicated manner. We also pick up Eric, another young lay missioner who works with Cain. Big kid, quiet.

Every time that we have mentioned our plan to go to this area, someone has remarked ominously: "Oh... hopefully the rains haven't started..." As we cross the large bridge over the magnificent Rio Lempa and turn abruptly to go up into the hills on a muddy, bad road, we start to see why. This area is completely inaccessible when it rains, with the added danger that one could get trapped by a rising river. As a matter of fact, while we drive in, we hear thunder in the distance. We ask Cain how much time we have - he estimates two hours. For this reason, we are visiting the area in the morning, since it rains pretty much every afternoon.

The road is increasingly steep and muddy. We drive through a river and continue amidst endless hilly fields until we reach a deep muddy point beyond which Arcelio wisely decides not to take the van. We get out and walk about half a mile to the El Carmen bridge. Asking how long it takes for the river to go down after it rains, we hear varying answers from several hours to two days...

The bridge that we are going to see was built by hand using volunteer labor from the community of El Carmen, teams from North America, and local churches as far away as the Bajo Lempa. Previously, the community of El Carmen, further up this road, was reachable only by a treacherous river crossing and then on a private road that was closed to the public. If anyone were sick during the rainy season, it was impossible to get medical attention for them. The community itself worked six mornings a week for three months to build this bridge and have the new road cut.

Unfortunately, we don't have time to walk up into El Carmen and meet what must be a very special community. We turn and walk back to the van, then drive to a second river crossing and up into the small town of San Juan de Letran, stopping at a lively school housing Kinder through 4th level. Fifth and up must walk miles into town on deep, muddy cart tracks. We pop into several classrooms, again disrupting the students and teachers, but no one seems to mind.

Eric, who is probably in his twenties, tells us the story of how his parents met. His father was in the guerilla during the war and a bomb exploded near him, taking off his leg, one eye and leaving shrapnel in his arm and chest. He was left for dead and lay for five days in agony with maggots eating his flesh before some soldiers found him. He told them that they could shoot them if they wanted, because he didn't care - he was ready to die. Instead they took him, cleaned up his wounds, and nursed him back to health. For the remainder of the war, he was a radio operator and fell in love with Eric's mother, who was also a guerilla radio operator, after talking with her a lot on the radio.

We walk down the road through the town and Cain points out his mother's house. The town has many houses and lots of chickens, goats, horses and other livestock running around.

He bends down, picks up a Mayan artifact from the road, and gives it to us saying that it is common to find them after a rain.

As we walk, there is a view of the distant fields.He remarks that the site of one of the war's notorious massacres is nearby in that direction. This town is quiet now, however, and praise God, this area does not suffer so much from the crime and violence that is found elsewhere. The majority of the people here are ex-guerilla who were given land in the agrarian reform after the war.

The sun is beating down as we approach the church, San Pablo, which is fairly new and sits in a field with a cistern near it.

When we enter, we see another beautiful mosaic done by Padre Luis Serrano. They show us the altar, the pews, and two other tables in the church, all made from a single monolithic tree over 250 years old that fell nearby.

Just as we complete our second river crossing and head back down out of the area, the skies open up and a pelting rain begins.

We make our way down to a place called the Coordinadora. This seems to be a sort of unique, grassroots, regional liaison and facilitation organization, funded by and working with NGOs to deliver services and projects in the area. They have an office, a radio station, which does public service broadcasts, a cashew processing plant, and an art gallery of truly impressive art done by local students housed along with grain, corn, seed and agricultural soil amendments in a storage building. We glimpse foreign nationals running around for meetings, we step into the radio station as they broadcast a live interview with a public health expert, and we pop into the cashew processing plant, emerging with heavenly bags of fresh, roasted, locally-grown cashews at $1 a piece. As one of our guides remarks, "...we all need a Coordinadora...". Unfortunately, there is just this one, here in Usulutan.

Dodging rainshowers, we go up the street to a good-sized, noisy, and heavily patronized restaurant nearby, where we choose from a large assortment of meats, vegetables, rice, beans and salads - none of us sure until we receive the food what we had actually ordered. We put together some tables and have a nice meal. Some of us accidentally order but try anyway the coconut water (agua de coco), a truly odd-tasting clear drink reported to have miraculous rehydrating properties (to the extent that it is occasionally used intravenously, so we are told).

Next we drive south, paralleling the Lempo River through low, abundantly fertile farmland. This is the delta region of the Lower Lempa (Bajo Lempa). There seems to be only one road into this area and everyone uses it. At high speed, we dodge bicycles, dogs, mothers with children, chickens, ox carts, goats, cattle, and farmers walking to and from their fields. As we go, we hear stories of repeated devastation of this area by Hurricane Mitch in 1998, two earthquakes, 7.6 and 6.6 respectively, that hit within a month of each other in 2001, and serious flooding in 2005 as well. The region has received a fair amount of development attention aimed at reducing the flood risk and decreasing economic vulnerability in the population.

We are told that when the region floods, the water is meters high and the crops (primarily corn), livestock and homes are lost. There is now a levee (although incomplete) between them and the river, as well as an early evacuation system when the upstream dams plan to release water. Some of the people we meet tell us that they were evacuated by helicopter during past sudden flooding but now are theoretically given more ample time to get out. Still, they worry with good reason about the sick, the elderly, and pregnant women. We stop to look at the levee and the wide, muddy river.

Next we drive to what Alvaro describes as the most beautiful Anglican church in El Salvador: Cristo Rey in La Canoa. Cain is the celebrant for this church.

As we pull up in a field, we see a stick and grass structure with handmade benches and a palm roof. Inside, the shady coolness is dappled with sunlight coming through the palm fronds. There is a small altar and handmade wooden cross at the front, decorated with flowers. We're utterly charmed.

A number of people materialize, especially a very bright-eyed neighbor and her daughter. They are friendly and delightful, each introducing themselves in turn, as do we in halting Spanish. They tell us about their dream of building a real church on this lot, since this church cannot be used in the rains. They also hope to build a raised flood shelter here on the adjacent lot, especially for those who cannot be evacuated. One man says that this is their dream, and heartbreakingly adds "...but dreams are really just what happens when someone eats bad food or gets too much sleep..." One of the problems, it is pointed out to us later, is that this church is so unique and quaint that North American groups always seem to feel that it should be kept as it is rather than be replaced.

On the road back, we weave through cow jams and dodge chickens. We ask Cain how much he thinks it would cost to build a church there. He estimates $50K.

As we return in torrents of rain, we feel a bit down that we can't help everyone who needs even such modest yet important things as food, churches, education and school libraries. There are so many needs here - it is heartbreaking. After supper, we discuss this with Alvaro, who also aspires to be a priest. He tells us that he feels this way every single day and that all we can really do is to be with them and to pray for them. This is good for us to hear.

Day 5 - Life in El Salvador

2009-06-24T23:28:00.000-07:00

This morning, people are feeling better already. We have another great breakfast of scrambled eggs. A couple of us have checked out the cavernous Mr. Donut around the corner, which, strangely, has coffee but no donuts... We make a few phone calls to the US on Alvaro's cell phone. Unfortunately, the pay phone at the church isn't working, but Alvaro has kindly let us buy minutes for his phone and use it. It only costs about 5 cents a minute to the States.

As we are planning our day, Bishop Barahona and most of the clergy appear in the parking lot. They are having a clergy conference today and tomorrow. He asks after our health, and although we are already better, advises us against staying overnight in Usulutan as we had originally planned. The Diocese has a physician on call as well, should we ever need medical advice. Among the clergy are Irma, an American retired priest from NYC, Father Jim Hagen, and an old friend from our previous trip, Padre Alex Tobar, with whom we worked on the ERD project in El Maizal. It is wonderful to see them all.

After deciding that a couple of us should rest in the air conditioning a while longer (at least for the morning), we make plans to pick them up later in the day, since there will be a gathering at San Miguel Arcangel in the afternoon. We set out once again, stopping for the water and Gatorade, picking up Padre David, the young woman and her abuelito from San Miguel.

As we drive up the dirt road into the countryside, we pass an ornate funeral procession with a glass-topped hearse covered in flowers. There are many cars and trucks in the procession. We casually ask about it and begin to find out, to our horror, that it was a young man, shot by gang members the day before yesterday in a case of mistaken identity. Worst of all, he lived in the house next door to where we are working. What is most difficult to hear is that this family, who are living out their worst imaginable nightmare, has no hope of justice - one does not go to the police in this situation. It seems that they must grieve with silent resignation the loss of their son or risk further violence; perhaps they are staying with relatives or friends.

In the two days that we have worked there, in this peaceful paradise, there has been absolutely no outwardly visible sign of the trauma to this family or to the fabric of the community. People have come and gone, up and down the road, tended their fields, driven their animals, gone to school, and greeted us politely. We also wonder about the effect on Jacobo and his family, living next door at the church. Later today, we see another hearse go by, unaccompanied, headed toward Quezalte. We also see some neighbors take their ox cart down the hill and return with a big load of red and blue plastic chairs, apparently for the post-funeral gathering nearby.

Today, the public health department is running a medical clinic in the "casa comunal". There is a steady stream of mothers, children and infants going to the church building for immunizations. Later in the day, a crew comes to spray all of the properties along the road, including the church, for mosquitoes.

The work on the project has continued to progress when we arrive. We get some work done, although the heat seems even more intense today, and we need to keep stopping frequently. Work on the stumps is still going on, and they are working on another big one. The main footing holes are also nearly ready. Several hours of labor are required to get two huge rocks out of the right-hand arch footing. One rock comes out, but the other is too deep. Finally, it is decided to cut the frame around the rock. Then cement is mixed by hand and put into the holes to anchor the two main posts.

By the time we leave, both posts are in place and the fence line is getting deeper. They tell us that it will probably require about two to three more weeks of work and that they will plan to send us pictures when it is done.

We are sorry to leave the project in the middle, but feel pretty good about the brief physical contribution that we were able to make and about the fact that this small church and community will have had some attention from the rest of the world. We take one last look around, say goodbye to Jacobo, Don Roberto and the others and head down the hill for the last time to go pick up the others back in San Salvador.

We fetch the others and bring them with us back to Quezalte, along with Cain Hidalgo and Manuel Osorio, who will be accompanying us tomorrow and who would also like to touch base with this congregation. The parishioners of San Miguel have gathered for a celebration when we arrive, and they have our video set up to play (filmed by our Sunday school and dedicated to San Miguel). We all watch it and then each person in the room stands up, introduces him or herself, and says a few words. They give us each a hand-painted wooden cross and an angel decoration made by the kids. Padre David also gives us a copy of the drawing for the portada and a detailed account of the expenditures, as we had requested.

Then the food comes out. First, we are given a wonderful, warm horchata-like drink made from corn, cinnamon and sugar called "atolito". We each get a plate with baked banana, a scoop of refried beans, sour cream, and rolls. The food is great, and there are several women who love to cook here.

Padre David talks about the cherished plans that the parish has. They would dearly like to expand the school, so there is a plan to perhaps start a small bookstore with a copy machine that will cater to students and bring in some income for the church. They have an area in which they could do this by walling off part of the room in which we are sitting. This is a can-do parish and they are working on making this happen. It is wonderful to see the comraderie and good humor here and we feel very blessed to know these friendly, hospitable people. We exchange contact information as much as we can, to try to keep in touch with them in the future. All too soon, we have to leave and return to San Salvador for the night.

Day 4 - Sweating in Paradise

2009-06-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

In the night, it rains torrentially, and it is still sprinkling and threatening this morning when we get up. We're all moving a bit more slowly this morning, especially the teens. Two of us are starting to have some gastrointestinal issues, so we start them on Cipro.

After breakfast, we all stand together and pray for each member of the group individually, for strength and health. We make the decision that all of us should go to the work site, where those who need to can stay in the hammocks as necessary, rather than split up the group.

We get into the van and again stop for water and Gatorade. It has turned out to be a good decision to set up a separate fund for water: we bought two cases yesterday plus seven Gatorades and it was only just enough, given the heat and the fact that we of course are providing water for the other workers from San Miguel, plus Arcelio, Alvaro, David and Jacobo. Today we buy three cases and lots of Gatorade.

Stopping at San Miguel, we get out and take a quick tour of the school in action. The first grade teacher, Jacqueline, is also a member of the church. She tells us about their dreams for the school, introducing us to the lively and bright-eyed kindergarten and first-grade classes, who erupt in gleeful chaos as she leaves to show us around. There is a large room ready to accomodate second- and third-grade classes, but it is completely unfurnished and would require a partition to be built.

She also shows us the library, explaining that while they have a few children's books, they do not have reference materials, nor do they have shelving for the books. The government requires private schools to have both a library and a computer area. Since this school has neither, its rating has been downgraded. They hope eventually to build a play area for the kids as well.

We leave for the work site, bringing different people from San Miguel this time, including a girl and her ancient grandfather, who was a construction worker in his day. He proves knowledgeable and extraordinarily hard-working with his toothless grin. His work boots have no laces and the tongues hang out.

By the way, this is a bird-watcher's paradise: we see an iridescent blue bird with a long thin tail ending in a delicate medallion. This is the torogoz, the national bird. We also see huelcanchilla, chiltota, urraca, telapo, and sensontle. We collect the exotic names of birds, plants and animals which signal the unimaginable biodiversity here.

When we arrive at the work site, they've poured a little more cement and the trenches are getting deeper. The two holes for the main arch footings need to be a meter deep. There is still quite a way to go on these, and it is hard work given the volcanic rock and occasional large boulders to be pried out. We work on digging out the trenches, sifting sand for the cement, carrying rocks over for the wall footing, and probably slowing down and retarding the process but jumping in where we can.

We keep giving our gloves to the people who are really doing the work and we feel need the protection. They politely use them for a few minutes and then place them on the ground for us to take back. In this culture, apparently gloves are not comfortable for those who are accustomed to feeling the tool in their bare hand and have well-earned calluses. They will probably remember us as the crazy gringos with the silly hats who insisted on giving them gloves every time they picked up a tool.

By lunch time, we start another person on Immodium and antibiotics. The heat is also getting to people. It's OK though, the work is going on, we're here, and each person is doing what they can do. It's not too bad in the "casa comunal" - breezy and cooler. The men put up a third hammock using a scary, rickety ladder built out of tree limbs. The three dirty but cute dogs are begging for food with big brown eyes. A sleek white cat and some pullets rummage around us while we eat our tuna sandwiches, sweating. We listen to trilling birdsong in the banana tree outside, and as we lie in the hammocks it's almost like being on a surreal tropical vacation but with work boots on instead of a bathing suit and flip-flops. As we go back out to work, a health worker comes to immunize the dogs for rabies.

In the afternoon, there is more digging to do. Don Roberto starts to meticulously place the blocks on the top of the cement and rock footing, which has re-bar stuck into it at intervals. Jacqueline, the first grade teacher, comes and brings us some zapotes from her mother. They are an intensely sweet orange-fleshed fruit somewhat like a guava. Excelente!

We spend a long time watching Don Roberto's daughter and neighbor work together patiently on an enormous stump that must come out, since it is on the fence line. They use machetes, an axe, and a metal rod to hack it out, root by root, loosening the dirt from under and around it. This particular stump has required close to three hours of tireless work in the full sun and heat. Our North American mindset continually produces images of front-end loaders and stump-grinders, impatience and aggravation, while we see first-hand that persistent, patient, faithful toil is the currency of our salvadoran brothers and sisters. This is equally evident as they work for hours to remove a 150-pound rock from one of the deep footing holes. Once again, we leave around 3:30 to head home.

Memo to self: To the cocktail of drugs designed to keep us standing and functioning in the face of gastrointestinal "concerns", administer a quarter tab of dramamine to all those who are iffy before the van ride - trust me on this!

Back at San Juan, those of us who are left standing have fish, baked veggies with cheese, and the usual other good things. During the night, huge thunderstorms roll through, washing the city with rivers of rain.

Day 3 - Working at Sitio de los Nejapas

2009-06-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

Today we get up, put on our boots and work clothes, load our backpacks with water and sunscreen, and get ready to go to work. After breakfast (fried eggs, salsa, queso fresco, rolls, pastries, rice, beans and juice), we pile into the van to head out to Sitio de los Nejapas.
On the way, we stop at a Super Selectos for water and Gatorade, also stopping in a local market along the way for a hat. Two of us plunge into the chaotic, colorful crowd while Arcelio circles the area, unable to park. Good thing everyone has cellphones here!

Stopping briefly at San Miguel Arcangel in Quezalte, we pick up Padre David and several of the young people from the parish. As students, they have the day off since it is National Teachers' Day. We will be working together with them on the project. The drive takes us up into the hilly countryside on a fairly good dirt road, arriving at the tiny church in about twenty minutes.

The church is a small, open structure with half-walls, surrounded by green fields of corn and a few houses. There is a caretaker, Jacobo, and his family living there for now, along with three dogs, a cat, and countless chickens.

The engineer, Don Roberto, from San Miguel, his daughter, and neighbor are already at work when we arrive. The materials are there also, and we learn that the project is to be a "portada", or arched entryway to the church property. This tiny, struggling church, built before the war, housed a church community that was forced to abandon the area during heavy local fighting in the 80's. The military used the building during the war, and the altar was knocked down. Now the church is trying to reclaim the property, since it is being used more as a community center than a house of prayer by the new and different community that has settled in the area since the war.

Our first task is to clear and stack brush and wood laying in a clear-cut field at the top of the property. We throw the brush onto an enormous pile to be burned, and stack the wood in a separate pile to be sold or used as firewood (the family housed at the church cooks over wood). The plan is to plant a mango orchard here. Jacobo, the tenant, proudly shows us four coconut palms that he recently planted near the church as well.

Meanwhile, a trench is being dug and rock removed for the footing of the portada. Don Roberto and Padre David show us the drawings for a nice gate. There will be a rock footing, then three courses of cement block, and a chain-link fence on top. The archway will be formed from posts made of re-bar and an iron arch, then covered with wood and cement, and finally painted. The hope is that this will raise the profile of the church a bit, generate some local interest and energy in what is happening there, and gently re-demarcate the property as holy ground. This is chiefly a way of bringing new hope to a community that is remote and largely forgotten.

By noon it is getting almost unbearably hot in the direct, pounding sun. We can each work for only a short spurt, digging, cutting, or moving rocks with shovels, pick-axes, steel bars or machetes. Fortunately it seems to be perfectly acceptable to rest every few minutes. Some, however, like Don Roberto, his neighbor, his daughter, and Jacobo, work tirelessly, almost without any breaks. They are very glad, they tell us, for the work. Many people are unemployed here, especially since the minimum wage just "skyrocketed" to about $6.80 A DAY (less than $2500/yr), making El Salvador much less competitive in the world labor market. US and European firms have been laying off Salvadoran workers lately, including some of the young adults working with us. Most of the people we talk to seem to make about $5 on a good day. Even salaried professionals apparently make only about $300-$350 a month here (~$4200/yr), considered a middle-class wage.

We have our bagged lunches (provided by Blanca and Mercedes) in the cool, dark, church building (or "casa comunal"), where they have hammocks set up. In the afternoon, some of the women from San Miguel also come up to see how things are going. They come in "tuk-tuk"s, modified motorcycle/taxis, that cost $2 for the ride up from Quezalte and $1 for the ride down...?

At around 3:30, we leave in the van, dropping about five people off at San Miguel and coming back to San Juan Evangelista for the night. After cold showers and hot, delicious, hand-made corn tamales, we relax in our comfortable guesthouse that seems more and more like home.

Day 2 - Sunday Afternoon at San Miguel Arcangel

2009-06-21T23:15:00.000-07:00

In the afternoon, we have the opportunity to attend a service and get to know the people of San Miguel Arcangel in Quezaltepeque, a small city west of San Salvador. We have been working on developing a companion relationship with this church over the past three years. This has been partially successful in that we have communicated with them and given support to several small projects that they have undertaken. We have also sent them pictures and letters from the kids in our church school, a video, craft materials, and some other things. The problem has been, however, that the parish has had four priests during this period and it has been very difficult to maintain effective communication with them.

One of our primary objectives for this trip has been to become acquainted with Padre David Alvarado, the current priest, as well as other key members of the church. In addition, our work project, which will begin tomorrow, will consist of teammembers from both San Miguel and Saint Gabriel's working together at a third church, San Esteban Martir, in nearby Sitio de los Nejapas. In this way we hope to strengthen the bond between our churches.

The church has changed greatly since we last saw it: the exterior is painted and fixed up, and best of all, a two-story school has sprung up there. (I'm not sure who funded this beautiful facility, but God bless them!) The school is in operation with a kindergarten and first grade. They hope to add second and third grades, but have no furniture for the classroom at the moment.

We worshipped with the friendly congregation, sang together, and Father Geoffrey (from our team) celebrated in Spanish his second Eucharist of the day, causing a slight stir when he absolved us of our "fish" (pescados) rather than our sins (pecados)! It was graciously overlooked until the end of the day when we couldn't stand it any longer, told him, and had a proper laugh!!

After the service there was a festive gathering with the parishioners, who showed us warm hospitality and served us savory tamales, salad, juice and ice cream, all passed around on trays. We shared our pictures with them and got to know most of the "pillars" of the church. Leaving reluctantly at 5:30, we returned to the guesthouse at San Juan for another great dinner: chiles rellenos, rice, beans, salad and other good things.

It was a day of mixed emotions and enormous admiration for the energy, fervor and commitment of the clergy and laypeople that we have met. We have much to learn from each of them.

Day 2 - Sunday Morning at San Francisco de Asis

2009-06-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

After cold-water showers and a pretty good night's sleep, we have a fairly early breakfast of bananas, frijoles, eggs, queso fresco, jam, and bread. Revda. Irma, ordained as deacon a few weeks ago, and her husband the Rev. David Alvarado are there to greet us. The plan is to visit San Franscisco de Asis in Lourdes for the morning Eucharist, come back for lunch, and then celebrate the afternoon Eucharist at San Miguel Arcangel in Quezaltepeque. Irma and David are warm, friendly and interesting - we look forward to getting to know them both.

We head out to Lourdes, Rvda. Irma's church, for the 8:30 service. The church lies in a depressed area on a bad, broken road. A few paces away is a public school, which educates about 400 students in two sessions per day. The church is modest but very lively and happy. They have a pretty tile floor and plastic chairs. The congregation is primarily under 30 years old. People help us with hymnals and prayer books, especially two little girls with smiling, twinkly eyes who can't yet read and who show us all the wrong pages. There are dogs, nursing mothers, and most exciting - fathers! - because today is Father's Day. We are later told that the youth group members, about 20 youth, have written and delivered invitations to each of their fathers (some of whom seldom attend church), donated gifts for a raffle, and designed a performance especially for this day. They are enormously invested and are aware that they have an important ministry to their own parents. The youth perform a wonderful set of songs, dances, and dramatic readings as well as bringing cake and soda around to everyone. We enjoy talking to them, joking with them, and sharing pictures after the service. It is clear that this church means a lot to every person in the parish.

We leave, reluctantly, as the rains really open up, turning the streets into rushing rivers. On the way home and during lunch, we start to hear some of the chilling facts about cities like Lourdes, which is almost completely controlled by the gangs. We are told that the school and church are allowed to operate there as long as they do not speak against the gangs. Two of the teachers at the school next door have been killed recently for advising young people not to join. All that the church can do is to involve the youth in activities as much as possible, educate them and show them good alternatives by giving them love, respect, community, and something important to do. Some of the kids have brothers or cousins in the gangs, and most of the youth, male and female, literally risk their lives every time they walk down the street.

In addition, the clergy are at constant risk of running afoul of them. To refuse the gang anything, such as the use of one's car for a killing spree, can be fatal. It is hard for us to imagine the level of stress and fear in these areas. The clergy, who are not necessarily protected by wearing a collar, must walk in love, faith and prayer as they minister to the people, trying to create a safe space and keep the fear and violence at bay. Irma hesitantly shares with us a close call that she had only last week. She tells us that she prayed for God to remove the particular situation from her and that her prayer had been answered. Several of us, shaken, pray with her for God to protect her and for a sense of His constant presence as she works in this area.

It should be noted that we, as North Americans, are not sharing or experiencing this same risk. The violence is primarily gang-on-gang and we are not particularly targeted, nor is it in the gangs' interest to do so. We are free to come and go in short- and long-term mission, but our Salvadoran brothers and sisters must live here immersed in an insecure world, raising their children, and managing the risk of violence on a daily basis.

Day 1 - Arriving in San Salvador

2009-06-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

Today, we got up at 2:00 a.m. after what seemed like about 15 minutes of sleep. We stayed at the Comfort Inn in Revere, MA, which has a shuttle every half hour so that we could sleep a bit later (not much!) and also go to the airport all together. We took the 3:00 a.m. shuttle, arriving at the American terminal at Logan Airport around 3:30.

We flew to Miami and then to San Salvador, arriving around 1:00 p.m. The airport was quite clean and modern; every immigration and customs official was welcoming and friendly. Outside the airport was an enormous crowd with many taxi drivers offering their services, but we immediately saw our translator, Alvaro Duran, holding up a sign with the Episcopal seal on it. He and our driver, Arcelio, had soon gotten our luggage onto the roof and whisked us away in the Diocesan van toward the guesthouse in San Salvador. The weather was warm and humid, but not unbearable. The skies threatened a bit of rain, but as it is the rainy season now, it is to be expected.

Alvaro is a young, dedicated, layperson in the Diocese of El Salvador, who lived in London during the salvadoran civil war. He is friendly, outgoing, and immediately put us at our ease. He speaks excellent English and also has a good sense of how to interpret his country and church for us as well as the language.

When we arrived at the Diocesan guesthouse, we were thrilled that Doñas Blanca and Mercedes were waiting to greet us, along with Jenny, Mercedes' daughter. Two of us had met this family on our last trip (four years ago) and had hoped to see them again. Blanca and Mercedes are incredible cooks, and we looked forward to their gourmet meals all week long! Our youngest teammember, Brittany, picked up her friendship with Jenny where it left off four years ago, although neither speaks more than a few "palabritas" of the other's language. We brought lots of craft supplies for them to do together.

After dropping our things in the rooms and eating a quick but delicious lunch, we were graciously welcomed by Bishop Barahona and Jose Lopez, an attorney, who spoke about his work in the areas of refugee and human rights. The Bishop also told us about his major concerns for the Diocese: evangelization, education and health. We left two suitcases of donated school supplies, over-the-counter medications and altar linens with the Bishop to be distributed as needed.

Back at the guesthouse, we settled into our rooms. There are four rooms, three with two bunk beds each and a fourth larger room with four bunk beds. There are also three restrooms with showers, although one is a tight fit. There is a bottled water cooler, a refrigerator, and a hallway sitting area with a bench. Underneath, around the back, is the open air kitchen and eating area.

We ate dinner at about 6:30. It included rice, beans and handmade corn tortillas that are thicker than the Mexican-style that we are used to. It also included chicken, juice and water, salad, and dressing. Everything was delicious and nicely seasoned, and I hope you'll forgive if we rave about the food!

So far it has been an extremely (and unusually) smooth entry into this very different culture.

Leaving Tomorrow

2009-06-19T13:46:00.000-07:00

After months of planning, fundraising, meetings and group preparations, we are finally on the eve of our trip!

We have been working with Cristosal and the Iglesia Anglicana Episcopal de El Salvador, who have presented us with an incredibly detailed and comprehensive schedule. Hopefully we will have enough energy to do everything that they have planned for us!

We actually still do not know the exact nature of our work project, but we will be working in Sitio de los Nejapa, northwest of San Salvador.

Since our flight is leaving at about 5:30 a.m. from Boston, we decided to stay at a hotel near the airport so that we can take a 3:00 a.m. airport shuttle. This should give us another hour or so of sleep, God willing.

Our entire church of St. Gabriel's is praying for our health, safety and good experience. We will post pictures of our trip when we return.

Trip Planning - Part I

2009-02-28T11:59:00.000-08:00

One dilemma of planning a mission trip, for us anyway, is the tension between starting to plan the trip prior to recruiting teammembers versus starting to recruit a team without having the trip details in place.

In general, it has worked best for us to have a small leadership team (eg. clergy and lay mission leader(s)) decide on a destination and dates up front. This has enabled us to have a target for advertising the trip.

Ideally, someone in the parish has had previous experience in a particular country. If not, however, the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts has a great resource in the Rev. Ted Gaiser, Deacon of Global Partnerships. He can be contacted through the diocesan mission website at www.missiongoal.org. Rev. Gaiser can suggest destinations suitable for the group as well as provide contact information. Another option is to take advantage of an established program, particularly if this is the group's first mission trip. Good programs include El Hogar in Honduras, Cristosal in El Salvador, and Christ Church Needham's medical mission trips to Haiti.

It is also a good idea to just make an executive decision and fix the dates. If no one signs up for a particular date, then obviously it will need to be changed, but there shouldn't be ongoing negotiations with group members over the dates. This invariably ends in tears. Either they can go or they can't. This is also a good time to think about whether this is a youth, adult or combined youth/adult trip. Also, what are the age limits. (In our church, we require those under 16 to be accompanied by a parent. We would probably also discourage anyone from bringing a child younger than about 9.)

This leads to the next big hurdle, recruiting teammembers. If you're lucky, you have a large church with a good-sized pool of experienced mission participants. If your church is small or medium, like ours, and especially if this is the church's first mission experience, it is often easier to work with your deanery or at least one other church in the area.

In our experience, the trip needs to be really talked up, especially from the pulpit. Also advertise it in every way that you can. Put out posters, newsletter articles, a coffee hour recruiting table, have informational meetings, and show videos or powerpoints. Approach anyone who seems to have an interest. Once a mission program gets up and running, this part is easier, but on a first trip there is a great deal of inertia to overcome. Probably less than a third of the people who express interest will actually end up going on the trip. We have found that it takes about four months to recruit enough people for a trip. There should be a reasonable deadline set for signing up, about four months prior to the trip dates.

We see recruiting as something of a ministry in itself: we are helping our fellow parishioners discern a call to mission. Potential teammembers don't need to be particularly "screened", but try to encourage them to pray about their decision and to have a realistic rather than idealized view of the purpose of a mission trip. It is not a pilgrimage or tour, and it is usually not a way to "convert the heathen" (often we are the ones converted). Generally a mission trip is an opportunity to serve others in some small way and to learn from them a reality that greatly differs from our own.

Our church usually designs a "Registration Form" for our prospective teammembers. What this really accomplishes is to encourage a sense of commitment to the trip. We also require a $100 non-refundable deposit due by the deadline. This form acts to weed out those who (verbally) would "love to go", but who can't seem to commit. We also get contact information, a little bit of background (i.e. previous trip experience), and we even ask for a passport number and expiration date on this form, forcing the potential teammember to actually check it and forestall any last-minute passport nightmares.

During this period, the trip can be fleshed out a bit with the organization or diocese with whom you are working. There should be at least a general agenda showing what activities might happen on which days. Often the hosting organization can suggest an agenda based on the interests of the group. Be aware, however, that you may not be sure of exactly what the group will be doing until just prior to leaving.

Mission Trip to El Salvador

2009-01-31T19:06:00.000-08:00

St. Gabriel's Episcopal Church in Marion, Massachusetts is launching a mission trip to El Salvador, departing in a few short weeks. The trip is scheduled for Saturday, June 20th through Monday, June 29th. This blog will track the process of planning this trip as well as our experiences while we are there. Our church website is located at: http://www.stgabrielsmarion.org/

We decided to undertake this trip after sending a team to El Salvador in June 2005 through Episcopal Relief and Development. This trip was extraordinarily rewarding and resulted in some relationships with Salvadoran clergy that we have continued to maintain. We have worked to develop a sister relationship with the church of San Miguel Arcangel in Quezaltepeque and have supported some small projects in that parish.

Last year, we welcomed a new rector, the Rev. Geoffrey Piper, who is a strong supporter of mission, particularly in the spiritual formation and development of youth and young adults. Thus, we began planning for this trip.

Our logistics and planning are being done by Cristosal, a US-based organization that has partnered with the Anglican/Episcopal Diocese of El Salvador. Cristosal's website is located at: http://www.cristosal.org/

Our team is comprised of seven members, including a 13-year-old and a 16-year-old, as well as five adults. We have met a number of times in order to plan for travel documentation, immunizations, packing, spiritual preparation, and cultural preparation. In addition, we have just watched the movie "Romero", describing the life and martyrdom of Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero who was martyred at the altar in 1980, and whose assassination sparked the descent of El Salvador into civil war.

Welcome to our blog, as we describe our experience in bringing this mission trip to pass.