Three things of note that we did during the third week were to visit with the Lutheran Bishop, artist Fernando Llort, and the US Embassy. It was good to hear from a religious organization besides the Catholic church, especially one that is so similar to my own denomination, and to hear their take on liberation theology and social justice. Fernando Llort is considered the national artist of El Salvador. He designed the art on the front of the Cathedral, and if you've ever seen a cross from Central America painted with very colorful simplistic pictures of people, huts, and animals, it is basically a Fernando Llort design. We got to visit his gallery, "El Arbol del Arco Iris," talk to him in person, and see his ceramic and silkscreen workshops.
It was quite a switch to hear what the US Government had to say about the current situation in El Salvador, after our experiences of talking with middle and lower class Salvadorans. I think we got what we were expecting, but it was still interesting to hear them gloss over some of the things that we'd perceived as being very controversial issues.
That weekend, we went to Suchitoto, where Sister Peggy lives and works. It was a simply amazing experience. For one, I absolutely loved the town, which reminded me a whole lot of Xela (but less urban) and Chichi (but bigger). We stayed at the Centro de Arte para la Paz, Centro Artex for short, which is a project that Peggy is developing. It consists of a very old building complex that needs to be remodeled/refurbished, including a large church. The hope is for the Center to be a place where community members can come and take classes in music, fine arts, theater, and digital/electronic art (inc. photography), as well as writing and journalism. There will be a library and a computer lab, a peace garden, and a little store/restaurant. I would love to return to El Salvador some day and volunteer at the Center -- it is such a hopeful vision. For more info, check out www.centroartex.org.
We had the biggest pupusas I'd ever seen for dinner on Friday. Pupusas are the national food of El Salvador: tortillas cooked with a filing of beans and cheese. They're pretty amazing creations, and delicious! Most of the ones we'd eaten were 4-5 inches in diameter, but these were 6-7!
Saturday was a very intense and emotional day. In the morning, we went down to nearby Lake Suchitlán, which is actually part of the Rio (river) Lempa, and a group of people from a nearby village took us by boat to Viejo Copapayo. There used to be a rural community there, but now there are only ruins of house foundations. It has a horrific history, which we got to hear first-hand from the survivors. They, like many other small communities during the war, were the victims of a massacre by the army. Twice. Besides the people that escaped before the first massacre occurred, only one person survived both of them: Rogelio, who was a 10-year-old boy at the time, and who told us his story.
It was November of 1983 when the army came to bomb and raze the town. The inhabitants knew what was coming and so some fled the day before, but the rest took boats across the river and waited until they'd thought the army had gone. The massacre happened when they came back, incorrectly thinking it was safe. Those that survived were rounded up and taken to an army official's home, where they were all gunned down the next day. Rogelio got lucky by hiding in the grass behind a tree and not being discovered.
As refugees, the surviving members of the community only lived in Honduras for three years before returning to Viejo Copapayo in October of 1987. That is the year Peggy began working with them. They relocated to a new site, El Sitio Cinicero, in 1990. After visiting the massacre site, we boated over to El Sitio, where we spent the night. What a wonderful little place! I really do love the campo. We visited their little library and met with the librarian, and later with the directive board of the town. In the evening after dinner, we and a number of families with children gathered in front of the new church where there is a large mural listing the names of those who died in the massacre (about 150) and scenes of the massacre and the new town. We recited the names, saying "Presente" after each one. Then we were sent off to host families for the night -- I shared a bedroom with the 5 other people that lived there.
