These days I am preparing my next trip to El Salvador. I am excited about teaching again at the University of Central America (U.C.A.) for the Casa de la Solidaridad Program. Years ago, visiting El Salvador for the first time with a delegation from Santa Clara University and learning about the influences of Ignatian Spirituality all over Latin America, I felt at home with an experience that encompassed multiple languages and countries. But what impressed me most was learning about how people linked their spiritual practice to social justice.
We met true companions of the suffering poor. I was impressed by many but I remember especially Zoila Benavides. When we went to La Chacra the first day of our visit, she walked with us, introducing us to the people living in the neighborhood. She wore a long green skirt and a simple white blouse. Her long black, beautiful hair hung loosely down her back. We visited the houses of some of the people she was trying to help. Some houses were just barely standing up, their walls made of filthy pieces of laminated cardboard. Inside there was a tremendous unidentified sour smell. The darkness of some of the rooms considered “living rooms” was depressing. The television set in most of the houses projected images of rampant consumerism, in sharp contrast to the reality of their lives.
Zoila photographed by David Pace
After our official walk I talked informally with Zoila in Spanish. Her expression was calm but what she told me about the conditions of the poor people living in the slums was overwhelming. She remarked especially about the children. Some women would have up to eighteen children to feed. Some children would end up involved in prostitution, sexual abuse, or even sell their organs.
When I arrived at my hotel late at night, I tried to assimilate the stories I’d heard during the day. Some nights I could feel a deep sadness for the tremendous suffering of these people. Other nights I felt a growing sense of admiration for their courage, faith and tremendous love for the world. How did Zoila manage after all those years to be there, to be with the poor, to be present to their experiences and their needs?
The more I reflected on it, the more I felt the courage of her presence in other people’s lives. Her stories and experiences emphasized the power of being able to listen to each other, and to ‘accompany’ others. I wanted to capture that, the power to be open to others, even in the midst of difficulties and challenges. I wrote this poem after spending the first day in the Madre de los Pobres parish:
OUR FUTURE
The school Fe y Alegria photographed by David Pace
Our future is in the here and now
In the village without water
In the child without shoes
In the mother with the empty pot of food.
Our future is in the here and now
It is being written
In the hours we spend in forgetfulness
In the minutes we don’t allow them to speak
In the second they are looking at us
without being seen
Our future is not a future without them
We don’t exist when they stop existing
We die when they do.
Living close to the mystery of our lives, writing about it, involves really paying attention to the person in front of you. When you can really “see” the person in front of you, then you can really understand and help this world. I also believe that sharing with people this basic element of life helps us get closer to our authentic self. It opens the door to a new way of experiencing our life with the capacity to reveal different modes of consciousness, understanding and self expression in a deeper world.
So now ask yourself, “Am I experiencing things in an authentic way? How is my writing affecting the way I understand this world?” Allow yourself to visualize a more authentic way of being in your creative work and in your life.
Juan