Exchange
and Solidarity By
Harriet Mullaney
This summer I traveled to El Salvador to study
Spanish for five weeks at El Centro de Intercambio y Solidaridad
(CIS). While there, I became totally immersed in everything
Salvadoran through the classes, the political cultural program
(a mini-delegation experience), and the family with whom I lived.
It was an invitation-at risk to mental, emotional and spiritual
comfort-to begin to understand a reality completely different
from my own. It was an opportunity to bear witness, if but briefly.
Certain phrases seemed to ring through almost every conversation
and continued to spin through my head: la realidad, la conciencia,
solidaridad, el pueblo, la guerra, revolución, la lucha.
One speaker said, "La realidad es muy triste."
("The reality of El Salvador is very sad.") It can
be called sad because it reflects 500 years of oppression. The
conclusion of the bitter civil war in 1992 brought an end to
violent physical fighting, but new forms of economic violence
are manifested through neoliberal economic policies, Zonas Francas
(trade areas exempt from regulation where maquiladoras are located),
and the Plan Puebla Panamá. The specter of the proposed
Central America Free Trade Act (CAFTA) weighs down on people
like a massive black cloud. (Since I was there in the rainy
season, I have personal appreciation of the power of Salvadoran
black clouds!)
Why is la realidad of El Salvador so sad? Well, over one million
people do not have access to health coverage (which in actuality
works out to about the same percentage of Coloradans who lack
health insurance). Countless others contribute to the health
system by payroll deduction only to find out when they try to
use it that their payments have been diverted and are now lining
someone else's pockets. So, in reality, they do not have health
coverage. There are harsh contrasts between city lives and those
in the campo. This is especially apparent with regard to access
to education. Approximately one quarter of the country is illiterate,
and many children who live in the campo can only expect to go
to school for 2-6 years.
Pay scales differ radically, as well. The minimum wage in the
cities is $144 per month, and in the country, $80-neither a
livable wage. High rates of unemployment and underemployment
drive people to the cities, or north to the United States. Remittances
from Salvadorans working in the U.S. are now the largest form
of "foreign" investment, and El Salvador leads all
other Central American countries in this form of income. Any
rights of labor to organize are not followed or respected. As
a rule, access to the justice system is limited, and while there
are protective laws on the books, they are rarely enforced.
The gap between the rich and the poor widens daily. Almost since
its independence from Spain, El Salvador has been controlled
by "The 14 Families". It is said that this power concentration
now resides in only five families. (Globalized consolidation
seems to be striking at all levels!) Meanwhile, the number of
people selling candy and stickers on street corners and the
buses, i.e. beggars, increases daily.
Since the end of the war, delinquency and gang violence have
escalated. While I was in El Salvador, President Flores initiated
a very controversial plan, Mano Dura (Hard Hand), to apprehend
gang members often without specific cause. His approach, which
entailed immediate implementation without benefit of legislative
authority, was decried by every human rights organization in
the country. Methodology aside for the moment, however, the
crime rate has dropped drastically in the last 60 days. The
saddest part of the story for me is the fact that of the almost
2,500 taken into custody, the majority are between the ages
of 10-25 and, in most cases, not first-time offenders. What
an incredible indictment of the "sadness" of the society.
About halfway through my stay, I wrote to family and friends
and throughout found myself describing all the massacre sites
I had visited. I allayed any concerns that this experience was
one big downer because it wasn't at all. The people of El Salvador
are just amazing and offer a hope that most people in the developed
world cannot even conceive of. What is really important in life
becomes readily apparent when not much is to be had in the way
of consumables.
Another of our speakers explained that foremost among the positive
outcomes of the struggles of the last 25 years is that people
are regaining and reclaiming a sense of their own dignity. They
are realizing their own identity and recovering their roots.
By doing so, they are participating in the transformation of
la realidad. Even though the system appears to perform in spite
of them, greater numbers are assuming positions of responsibility
and becoming forces with which to be reckoned. Salvadorans are
very analytical by nature, and with la conciencia are critiquing
the present economic, political and social systems. This is
taking place at all levels of society, not just among the educated.
The proposed privatization of the health system and other CAFTA-related
proposals have become lightening rods for those with a new vision
for El Salvador. So, for all the sadness, there is a more pervasive
sense of vibrancy, determination and hope-by and for el pueblo.
It is palpable!
This is especially reflected in the women's movement. Most of
the women's organizations grew out of the political movements
during the war. They focus on training and organizing women
to analyze their place in society, now and for the future. They
devote energies to developing women's abilities so that they
can be agents of change in Salvadoran society. In discussing
empowerment, one speaker described how many women have to overcome
the fear of knowing their labor rights because many feel that,
"If I know my rights, I'll make demands, and I'll be fired".
This anecdote is telling of the distances to be covered.
Earlier I mentioned gang violence, but violence is also on the
rise at the domestic level. The prevalent attitude is that "violence
is normal". So, it is necessary for the women's organizations
first to describe what violence is, that it is not normal, and
then to address the physical, emotional, psychological, economic
and legal consequences of it. This involves education both for
women and for children. Interestingly, no one seemed to talk
about trying to educate the men. But certainly for children,
there is a strong concern among women to provide gender education
and stop machismo before it gets too far.
One woman, a psychologist, spoke passionately about violence
as an economic issue. She believes that frustration with the
current economics ends up getting played out at home. She argued
forcefully that the struggle against capitalism, particularly
in the form of CAFTA, belonged to both men and women. But she
is convinced that the political-economic reality cannot be changed
until the power relationship between men and women is changed.
This seems like an almost impossible task, but maybe the women
of El Salvador are the ones who can do it. For them, the problems
are so immediate that they don't have a choice but to try.
How can one make sense of an experience like this? I'm not sure
that I know, but maybe this passage from my journal is a start.
"So what's happening here? I'm certainly being exposed
to, and being able to bear witness to, incredible courage, tenacity,
hope, dignity and faith. And these are not just one-time acts.
These people live each and every day in a continuing and evolving
embodiment of their experiences, and their own characteristics,
values and beliefs. You can see it in their faces. They have
not and cannot put their experiences behind them, but instead
live out of them and, from there, with hope for the future."
Related
Articles:
Trade
Marches On (September 2003)
Silver
Lining to Free Trade in the Americas (September 2003)
Free
Trade for Whom? (April 2003) |
