Illinois Visitors Help Heal Wounds of War:
A Yearly Pilgrimage to El Salvador
For nine years St. Mary Church, in Champaign, Ill., has had a sister relationship with Calavera, a canton of five settlements connected only by mountain trails in northeastern El Salvador.
Together Gimilile, El Salamo, El Rusio, San Miguelito and Guachipilín have 1,200 inhabitants. They have no roads or electricity. Because this was a conflict zone during the 15year civil war that ended in 1992, they suffered extreme hardship and heartbreaking tragedy. Since the war they have been struggling to rebuild their lives.
In spite of their poverty, these communities always give us a warm welcome and great hospitality. The people say our sister relationship is very important.
In recent years St. Joseph Church, in Ivesdale, has also been a partner. Last year Provena Covenant Hospital, in Urbana, also joined us. Since 1996, four Maryknoll affiliates have gone with us to El Salvador.
In 1998, five delegates visited Calavera. Kathy Fries, our parish musician and organizer of every delegation, taught special classes in the five schools we visited. Maryknoll Affiliate Ann Carr, a pediatrician from El Paso, conducted clinics daily. She was assisted by Anne Volk, of St. Mary's, a second-year medical student. Bob Jarrett, a water engineer from Atlanta, made his second visit and stayed in San Salvador, the capital, working on a water project with government and funding agencies. I celebrated the Eucharist and gave the Sacrament of the Sick.
Pastoral leader Tomasito Luna, led us as usual, this time joined by Samuel Guzmán, who had been a medic with the rebel Frente Farabundo Marti para Liberación Nacional (FMLN). He joined after his father was abducted, tortured and executed by the Army. He served in the very mountains where we were walking and told many stories about the struggle.
Carr and Volk held their clinics from early morning till mid afternoon for five days. Local health promoters participated in the consultations and received valuable training. Maxima Argueta, eight months pregnant, worked until she herself had to be treated for exhaustion. Over 250 patients, many still suffering from deep psychic wounds of the war, came to the clinics. Most were sent home with medication donated by Provena Covenant Hospital. Carr made a few house calls to shut-ins. Santos Arriana Martínez, a tiny 18-month-old girl, had trouble breathing, eating and sleeping. She was very underweight. Carr diagnosed a hole in her heart. Later, at a children's hospital in San Salvador, Carr made arrangements for the surgery that would save the child's life. María Pérez García had delivered her child, Teresita, in the mid-1980s while fleeing for her life from the Salvadoran army.
Teresita is now a beautiful young girl, but her mother is still haunted by terrifying memories. I gave her a blessing, but it is I who should have knelt down to receive hers.
On our way to El Rusio, Tomasito took us to see Santos Martínez, a man in his fifties with Parkinson's disease. His whole body shook with tremors. Santos wept as he remembered his two sons killed in the war. We all wept with him. After I gave Santos the Sacrament of the Sick, we held hands around him and prayed the Lord's prayer. Carr arranged for medication to alleviate his tremors. As we walked along, Samuel pointed to a field where many war victims were buried. Darkness overtook us on a path made slippery by rain. After I tripped and fell several times, a man pointed his flashlight to guide me and another held on to my belt. Samuel encouraged me by saying "ánimo" (courage).
At each Mass the gospel was that of the Good Samaritan. I thought of the many good samaritans we met: Paz Pére, the young man who spent two days searching for a pharmacy that carried the drug needed by Santos Arriana; Maxima, the pregnant woman who worked herself to exhaustion; the men who helped me on the night walk to El Rusio; the men who carried their sick friend on a stretcher to the clinic at El Salamo, and the men who slept on a table or on the dirt floor near us for our protection. Most people on earth live in Calaveras instead of Champaigns. Dialogue with them is necessary if we are to overcome our global illiteracy. Their welcoming spirit teaches us that kinship is possible across the miles and cultural differences that separate us. Their sense of humor in the midst of their struggles teaches us an important lesson. Our annual walk in the mountains brings us to another level in our spiritual journey. Their stories shed light on our own stories, their faith like the flashlight lighting my path. I can hear them shouting encouragement when the path turns difficult.
By Father Tom Royer (of St. Mary Parish)
