El Salvador!

Much has happened since my last post, most notably an extraordinary and perspective changing alternative spring break trip I took to El Salvador. Alternative spring break trips are week long service or educational trips that take place during spring break. At Lewis and Clark, each trip is organized by several lead students, supported by a faculty member, and filled out by a varying number of strictly participant students. The trip I went on to El Salvador was one of 4  trips taken by Lewis and Clark students.

We stayed in the small town of Guarjila, which is in the Chalatenango region of El Salvador. Most of the fighting during the civil war took place in Chalatenango as the mountains in this region were the territory of the FMLN (the guerrilla army). Guarjila itself was destroyed multiple times through the war and at different times served as an operations base for the FMLN. It was in this town that we lived for a week. The population is just a few thousand people, there are two schools and a few small stores that service the entire town. We stayed with several host families around town accepting their extreme generosity. Everything they had to give was offered, and every accommodation possible was made for us.

Rather than launch into the full story from start to finish, I will post pictures and provide short anecdotes for each. If anyone should like the full story, we should talk about it over a beer in person. If you have very limited time to read this, I highly suggest you skip to the video at the end of this post which conveys the most important lessons that El Salvador taught us while we were there.

El Tamarindo, the community center that we were working with during our week stay. The above picture

is of the hockey rink/recreational area (it was once a chicken coup).

El Tamarindo was formed in the days following the conclusion of the war by several people in Guarjila. It has served the community in many capacities since it inception, but originally was formed as sort of search group to find and properly bury the remains of loved ones lost in the war. It now provides the town with a place of safety and respect amidst the alcohol, drug and abuse plagued streets. El Tamarindo has parenting classes, woman's fitness groups, nightly games and activities for young people, hosts weekly potluck community dinners, provides college scholarships, and recently took over the physical education curriculum for the town school. El Tamarindo provides a place to foster self-empowerment. It was explained to us that everyone that comes to El Tamarindo must contribute something, whatever they have to give, be it respect, hard work, a smile, or love. In my opinion, this is what makes El Tamarindo so successful and special: people are both respected and expected to also be respectful, they are held accountable for their actions, and expected to earn their keep. By being asked to contribute something (the things I just mentioned), people begin to see that they actually have something to contribute and are therefore valuable!

 Luis, John, and Gio, members and founder of El Tamarindo.

John Guiliano (wearing the grey sweatshirt), is a larger than life figure that was one of the founders of El Tamarindo. He is American and was born and raised in NYC. After attending Columbia University, John played for the Boston Bruins, a professional hockey team. After several seasons he became frustrated with the materialism he experienced around him, quit the Bruins, and became a Jesuit priest. He worked in Mexico smuggling people across the border to the United States and was eventually kicked out of Mexico. This was in 1984, when El Salvador was in the first years of its brutal civil war. Hearing that people were in need, John went to rural El Salvador and joined fellow Jesuits in aiding the rural poor that had fled to the mountains. Seeing the reality of the war, John eventually joined the guerrilla force and fought for the FMLN for 8 years. Immediately after the war, El Tamarindo was formed, with John at the center, and he has been continuing to live and serve with the people of El Salvador since.

The celebration of Romeo Day in El Tamarindo.

 The Catholic church was at the center of the civil war, being the philosophical authors of the increasing demand by the poor for more representation and fair wages. The Catholic church took action based on a philosophy called liberation theology. Liberation theology proposes that if Jesus Christ spent his time aiding and liberating the poor, then the Catholic church should also do the same, making its aim to serve those that are treated unjustly and marginalized. Archbishop Oscar Romeo was the voice of the poor and oppressed in El Salvador in the years leading up to the war, encouraging the people to break the system of extreme wealth disparity by peacefully demonstrating. The Salvadoran National Army, being controlled by the wealthy oligarch, very much disliked this sort of political assertion and assassinated Archbishop Romeo while he was giving mass one morning. Romeo's assassination is regarded as the beginning of the civil war. 

Romeo Day celebration in El Tamarindo.

We were lucky enough to be in El Salvador on Romeo day. El Tamarindo hosts a dinner on Romeo Day for the war veterans and elderly of the town. The youth serve the elderly their dinner and the elderly give passionate and rallying speeches late into the night. The fire and spirit that was present on that night sent chills down my spine. Here was a group of people that took up arms, ran and fought through the mountains, and witnessed unimaginable cruelties being acted upon friends and loved ones. They spoke directly to the youth, urging them to never give ground and to stand for fair representation and the ability to make a living wage. It is remarkable to me that those that have lived through such horrors still vehemently believe in what they fought for, even after having seen the high cost in fighting for it.

The view from Betti's, the local restaurant where we had most of our meals. Betti fled to Honduras for a portion of the war, but still could not escape all of the fighting. Betti lost her sister, and her husband lost both of his hands to the violence.

Rio Sumpul, strikingly beautiful and also the site of one of the largest massacres of the war.

In addition to simply living and building relationships with the people of Guarjila, we also had daily sessions with John during which he gave us relevant historical and cultural context of the day's events. Of the many talks we had with John, his recount of the massacre at the Rio Sumpul was probably the most intense. As the National Army performed its carpet bombing across the Chalatenango region, entire towns fled to the mountains. The Rio Sumpul massacre was just such an instance, with helicopters pursuing fleeing civilians through the mountains and eventually catching them near the river bank. In a biblical display of desperation, mothers reportedly threw their children into the river with the hope that they would drift down stream and avoid the helicopter fire. Very few survived the attack. For many years no one would swim in the river.

Rio Sumpul, when there's a trip to the river, the whole town joins in.

We loaded into the bed of a few trucks and joined in on the town swimming trip. Rio Sumpul is now seen as a place of beauty and fun and enjoyment. This highlights what I believe to be one of the most remarkable aspects of the people we met: their resiliency in the face of such horrors, their ability to put the past behind them and live in the present. For to live in the past would be to live in the war and to relive unimaginable pain and suffering and brutality. It is this resiliency and determination to carry on that allowed us to have a wonderful day at the river with everyone from the town, laughing, building human pyramids, and playing tag.

 Rio Sumpul, this tree is known as the Tree of Life. As one of my groupmates remarked, it is poetic how the rebirth of culture and life after a war mirrors the rebirth and growth of nature. This tree witnessed the atrocities committed here in the past, as well as the love now shared here.

The drive back from Rio Sumpul.

Also on the drive back from Rio Sumpul.

A guard at a rural gas station. 

The presence of armed guards was very startling. Every gas station and grocery store had at least one armed guard, and even the school in Guarjila had several soldiers out front. I could never make the distinction as to who belonged to organized national armed forces and who were private hired armed guards. Coming from a place where it is normal for citizens to have guns in private, but abnormal to show force in public, it was strange to see the reverse. 

We always traveled in the bed of John's pickup truck. I deeply miss driving through the mountains with the sun on my face, wind in my hair, and friends at my back.

Robert Pirtle and I on Romeo Day. The matching was by pure coincidence.

 We won the Best Mango competition, a high stakes, pure adrenaline event.

 Pirtle and I in our room with our host family!

Our other host brother, a black scorpion, found crawling on Pirtle's back in the middle of the night.

 Maria Serrano, at the time of this picture she held the position of the Salvadoran equivalent to the vice president, she has since retired to teaching in her home village.

We met some truly extraordinary, larger than life people on the trip, and it makes me wonder whether the struggles and challenges of surviving a war and fighting for freedom necessarily brings that out of people. John told us that the war, in a strange way, was the best, richest part of many peoples lives. From oppression came passion; from violence and the loss it caused came deep, sincere appreciation for loved ones; from common struggle came community and camaraderie. It almost seems as if the war brought out both the worst and the best in people. Whatever the case, the people I met there were unlike any I have ever encountered in their deeds and character. 

Maria was a leader in the FMLN during the war. She took up arms after her village was occupied by the Salvadoran National Army and she witnessed their acts of oppression and cruelty. There is a documentary about Maria and her role in the war called Maria's Story. It is on Netflix and  absolutely worth the time to view. The filmmakers traveled with Maria for two months during the war and examined her role as a FMLN leader and also how the war affected her and her family. 

She and John have been close since fighting along side each other. We were given the opportunity to meet and talk with Maria one afternoon at the government's capital building in San Salvador. She spoke with us about her experiences through the war, the rebuilding of El Salvador and her plans to retire to teaching after her time in office expires (which actually just ended not long ago, as a new president was just elected within the last months!). Maria explained to us that some of the people currently serving in the government with her were leaders of the National Army during the war. So in the same government there are former leaders from both sides of the civil war, working together. I simply can't imagine putting aside differences and collaborating constructively with people that directly had a hand in organizing death squads that murdered friends and family. Maria's own daughter, Cecilia, was ambushed and killed in the war. And it is with these people that Maria sits with and works with to build a better future for her country. She said that she constantly prays and strives to have forgiveness, respect, and grace for those around her, and it is these things make her work possible, and make El Salvador's future possible.

Boston, John's faithful companion, always a part of the action.

Moments before the historic regional soccer tournament, we represented Lewis and Clark College with much passion and little skill. The tournament was put on by El Tamarindo. Such a tournament is a perfect example of the many capacities of the organization.

The kids were always fascinated with taking pictures, but were extremely shy in front of the camera.

The University of Central America in San Salvador, John speaking with us about the murders of 6 Jesuit priests, their housekeeper, and her young daughter that took place on the University's campus. These murders are regarded as the beginning of the end of the war.

University of Central America, portraits of the priests and their housekeepers.

The previous picture of us sitting with John in a beautiful garden area is actually the lawn on which the priests were murdered. John knew them rather intimately and was actually visiting them at that very house just days before the Salvadoran National Army broke their gate down and took their lives. John was very ill and was saying goodbye to them thinking that he was going to die. John was therefore able to give us a very personal portrait of the priests and their roles in the war. John explained that the University existed (and exists still) solely to promote and research social justice. Thus, the University was not quiet about condemning the cruel acts committed during the war and was therefore not regarded favorably by the National Army. In 1989 the National Army forced their way onto the campus and murdered 6 famous Jesuit priests, their housekeeper and her daughter. This sparked an international investigation into the civil war and the acts of the Salvadoran National Army. After the atrocities of the National Army were exposed to the world, the United States ceased to provide funding the Salvadoran government, condemning their acts. However, there is overwhelming evidence that shows that the US government had knowledge of these acts long before they restricted aid.

A mall in San Salvador. Being here highlighted the extreme wealth disparity within El Salvador. This mall (the nicest I have personally ever been in) is just a few hours from Guarjila, where running water is an extreme rarity and the houses are all cement blocks with tin roofs.

A beach to the south of San Salvador, where we spent our last night in El Salvador. I slept on the beach that night and saw the Milky Way for the first time in my life.

 A sunrise visit to the monument honoring Archbishop Romeo and the thousands lost at the massacre of El Mozote. This brilliant photo was taken by one of my group mates, Andrea.

John speaking with us at El Mozote about the philosophical roots of the war.

Slowly, over the course of the week we spent in Guarjila, a clear message emerged. It is the same thing that allows El Tamarindo to thrive, that gives Maria Serrano the capacity to work alongside those that murdered her daughter towards a greater goal, that fosters a palpable sense of community in Guarjila, and that motivated Archbishop Romeo to willingly lay down his life for the liberation of the oppressed. It is simply love. Love that acts ceaselessly, love that gives unconditionally, love that forgives the unforgivable, love that demands accountability from others for the sake of self-empowerment, love that builds us up and inspires unimaginable strength and resiliency. While our exposure to the horrors committed in El Salvador revealed to us the shocking depth of evil and brutality that humans are capable of, what astonished us even more was the immense capacity humans have to love. Indeed, for every personal recount of some terribly cruel act committed in the war there was always an even more remarkable story of compassion, sacrifice, perseverance, and love.

John and I talked about being poor one evening. He told me that there is a difference between being poor and being in material impoverishment. Material impoverishment means that you lack money and the means to buy nice things, or to afford a safe place to live. To be poor means you have nothing left within you; you are spiritually, emotionally, and physically defeated. Being poor means you have given up, being impoverished means that you lack material wealth. This struck a distinct chord with me, and there was evidence of it throughout Guarjila. I met a woman that makes $7 a day selling fruit and only has her most basic needs met. Yet she is outwardly happier and more content than most people in the States that make $50,000 a year and have a world of opportunity at their fingertips. The truly poor people are here in the States, and most make multiple thousands of dollars. I met people that live off of dollars a day in El Salvador, and I would consider almost none of them poor. Simply put, what those in El Salvador lack in material wealth they make up for in love and spiritual wealth. Conversely, we may have an excess of material wealth but there is a severe deficit of love and happiness in our society. Why are we afraid to tell others that we love them? Why is it looked down upon to be the one who cares the most? Why do we not deeply love those around us? It's as if we treat love as a finite resource that must be reserved only for certain moments, situations and people. I realized in El Salvador that a good life is based upon love, and a good world will only come about if we collectively decide that we will love beyond ourselves, beyond our family, beyond our religion, and beyond our national borders.

Below is a short video I made about our time in El Salvador, I hope you can get a better feel for the spirit of the people and the place through it. The dialogue is my best attempt to capture that phantom feeling that permeated through the entire trip, during each interaction, and with each smile shared.

Here is a link to El Tamarindo's website. The organization functions solely on donations, so if you are feeling generous here is a cause as good as any you will find to support: www.tamarindofoundation.org

We had and extraordinary team, I love them all and I feel very blessed to call them my friends.

Bound for El Salvador

In one hour I will leave the Lewis and Clark campus for the airport to take my first trip out of the country. I am going to El Salvador on one of Lewis and and Clark's Alternative Spring Break trips. Myself, along with 12 other students and one faculty member, will be volunteering for the Tamarindo Foundation, a community based center that seeks to uplift and empower the locals of El Salvador. Here is a link to the foundation's website: Tamarindo Foundation. Our contribution will consist of spending time with the children in the community, teaching various classes (self defense, origami, american football, dance, etc) and whatever else pops up on the agenda. We will also have a night where we cook for the community and perhaps participate in a dance! I will be living with a host family for the whole stay and trying not to shame my Spanish heritage with my awful Spanish speaking. I can't even imagine the things I will see during the next week. It is one thing to read and talk and learn about other places... but I'm actually going to walk among the people and rivers and roads!!! Unbelievable.

 My specialized job within the LC group is to document the experience and the story of the Tamarindo foundation via film. It is startling how opportunities fall into our laps just as they are needed. I have recently decided to put considerable effort into pursuing film (documentary and fiction) as a lifestyle and career, and then this chance presented itself. It is both daunting and exhilarating to be so quickly and fully thrown into a situation that will be such a big test and opportunity. As Luke said, if we are open to good things happening, life will make good things happen.

Now for an update on Portland life!

A few weeks ago was the annual International Fair on campus. This includes dances, food, and a fashion show, all of which are completely ran by students. I danced in the Western European dance, a waltz. I haven't been able to find any good pictures of our waltz, but apparently we did pretty well! Learning how to waltz was much more difficult than I had imagined and also much more fun.

The view from backstage at the International Fair.

Models for the fashion show waiting to go on stage. It still amazes me to have so many different types of people from all over the world in one place. The international community thoroughly enriches the campus. 

Salsa dancing at the International Fair. My peers continue to surprise me with their exceptional talents, and here is yet another example

BJ Jones and the doomed burrito:

The only evidence that exists of a surprise visit home!

On the flight home I was lucky enough to get a window seat.

Just as the sun was setting we were passing over the edge of 

the Rocky Mountains, it was perfect timing.

It just so happened that Yale's female jazz vocal group was touring the States right at the time we needed to raise funds for the El Salvador trip. We invited them to sing at Lewis and Clark and used the ticket sales to chip away at our El Salvador tickets!

Fire dancing? Yes, it's a liberal arts school!

Bluegrass at Fire on the Mountain, one of the best wing places in 

Portland. It is always nice to unexpectedly encounter a bit of home.

A brilliant sunset, a rare sight in Portland.

And now another adventure awaits!

Everyday is a Rugby Day!

Though I have given up the great sport of football (American), the desire to take the field of battle with comrades still remains; thus, my attention has now been redirected to football's rowdy cousin, rugby. To my amazement, rugby is remarkably similar to football regarding game flow, except that the game flow never stops in rugby.  There are miniature lines of scrimmage, there is a position that equates to quarterback that calls plays, the plays themselves are similar, and, of course, there is bountiful tackling.

We played our first game last Saturday, February 15, at home against Willamette University. As is shown in the pictures below, the weather was extremely volatile, swinging back and forth between pouring rain and sunshine, but always bitterly cold. We barely fielded the 15 men necessary to compete, and decided to play with rolling substitutions (which isn't typical in rugby. Usually a player cannot return to play once they are pulled out). Though we were outnumbered, we had a dominant victory. In total, we scored 8 times, to their one, and theirs was on a fluke kick that rolled into the try zone. I made my first ever rugby try in the 3rd quarter. I was in good position at the right time and beat their outside man around the edge. After the game, I participated in the rugby tradition called the Zulu Warrior Run. This is a tradition which calls for all players that make their first try (score) in a game to take a naked lap around the field. I have never ran so quickly, yet it was still the longest, coldest lap I've ever taken. On the way back down the opposing sideline, the opposing team made a tunnel for myself and the other first time scorers to run through. I felt just like a triumphant caveman coming back from his first successful hunt, being initiated into manhood with an embarrassing ceremony, yet somehow still feeling ecstatic.

After the game, we had the customary rugby social. A social is a tradition in which both teams come together after a match and drink way too much beer and sing standard vulgar rugby songs. It is the epitome of camaraderie and smelly, manly brotherhood. In total, 300 beers and 20 boxes of pizza were consumed. It was fantastic.

As handsome a crew as ever took the pitch (field)!

Pregame warm ups. In this drill you try to slap the other man's face with one hand while simultaneously trying to stop him from slapping your face with his other hand. It's actually pretty difficult.

Our two big boys, McGraw and Aaron. They had an amazing run during the game, bowling over most of the other team and covering 50 yards.

The big guys (forwards) taking part in a scrum on the far side of the field, while the small guys (backs) wait for the chance to pop the ball progressively further outside so as to spread the field and hopefully find a seam to run through.

We experienced the hardest rain I've ever witnessed in Portland.
We were soaked through and through by the end of warm ups.

I played flanker at the edge of the scrum, my job is be the eyes of the scrum and let my teammates

know when the ball gets out, and also to keep the scrum compressed and not spread out.

The Lewis and Clark Pioneers with the Willamette Bearcats. It's 3rd and the length of a bearcat.

Here is a link to the game: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Brt4avJ-kvA&feature=youtu.be

I suggest muting the audio unless you want pretty colorful commentary and excessive heavy breathing as our vulgar camera man attempts to warm up his hands. My try is at 1:04:00, and there are plenty of great hits and good runs throughout the whole thing. We were significantly more athletic and tougher than they were, so there are a few skull crushers in there. There's one hit that broke one of their player's ribs, and you can hear an audible bone crack on camera, which is immediately followed by howls of pain. What a great sport!

On another note, I will be preforming in the Western European cultural dance at Lewis and Clark's International Fair next Saturday. I will be dancing the waltz with several of the Western European teachers assistants here at the college. More on that to come, but I can already say that waltzing is much more difficult than it seems!

A Song of Youth

Here is one of my songs, entitled "23"

My bruddah filmed and edited this for me, he is one half (the less pretty half) of January Third Films.

23

What is Love, but old blue jeans?

And days spent on trampolines

Sunburned cheeks and climbing trees

And playing catch until it's time to eat

Where is Love, but on my father's knee?

He smiles as he softly speaks

Or in back seats as we doze from sleep

What is Love, but a new first kiss?

And holding hands as we cross the street

Or sweet promises we'll never keep

Those Autumn nights with my high school team

I was just seventeen

I used to drive just to feel the breeze

Time moves slow

Until you're 23

And now the days pass like falling leaves

Life slips by like a summer's night

And it's bittersweet

Like your mother's eyes 

On your wedding day

Where is Love, but in sweet memories?

Snowpocalypse!!!

Many things have happened since I last posted, so this will be a long one! Portland, Oregon rarely receives snow, and when it does it is barely passable as such. A typical Portland snow is more of a powdering, with hippies running around trying to catch snowflakes. Last weekend, however was a downright Snowpocalypse. Well, probably not by Midwestern or far Northeastern standards, but Portland was brought to its knees by the amount of snow we had last weekend. The bus lines stopped, the major interstates were closed down, schools were closed, and gas stations ran out of gas.

While it did snow a significant amount, the problem mostly stemmed from Portland's lack of snow combating infrastructure and its very hilly terrain. These two things combined resulted in my very first "snowed in" experience! Lewis and Clark College closed Thursday, February 6-Monday, February 10. Living on campus, this posed many problems. The dining hall was only open from 1 pm to 5:30 pm, and no one could drive off campus to get food, so it was a time of constant hunger and lack of drink! There were actually several dedicated students that used their cross country skis to get to the local grocery store and resupply themselves and their friends.

But, it was all worth it for the amazingly fun and cold snow activities! Spontaneous snowball fights erupted everywhere and between anyone. The big hill on campus was littered with all sorts of makeshift sleds, from cookie sheets (my personal favorite), to cardboard boxes, to mattresses. I also took part in a few late night road luge sessions, especially after the first short thaw which was followed by a refreezing, coating the road in ice.

This is how it started, mid-morning on February 13.

 And this is what it turned into in just a few hours.

Sledding!

Aaron and I after a massive snowball fight. Only after rolling multiple

snowballs with my hands did I realize just how cold and wet snow is.

The Frank Manor House. I didn't think the campus could be any more beautiful, but the pristine white 

snow against the deep browns and greens from the trees, accented by the warm reds of the buildings

was beyond words.

The view from my dorm window on campus. The path was only

cleared towards the end of the weekend, before that it was calf deep snow trudging everywhere.

My very first snow angel! By this point there was a hardened

layer of ice at the top of the snow which you had to break through

with each step.

Getting down stairs was more of a sliding process than a stepping process.

The first snow I have ever had on my window.

It was a jolly time, and a great first snow experience. 

More generally, I have been chosen to be a part of the Alternative Spring Break trip to El Salvador and will be spending March 20-28 volunteering at a community center in a small village. The leaders of the trip chose me in part because of my film experience. I expressed to them the great opportunity for capturing the trip via film, so I will be filming a short documentary of the trip and the community we will be a part of for the week. It's an absolutely amazing opportunity to have the support of the college for my first shot at a non-fiction film in a foreign country, it was truly a Godsend. 

There is more to tell, but it's almost 2 am and there is much work to be done tomorrow!