Sunday, February 05, 2006
cinderella in colonia libertad
| man, i'm not entirely sure how the time manages to fly by at an alarming rate. but that's just the way life goes. it's almost springtime up there. of course it's been warm with sunny sunny, bright blue skies in el salvador since november. you know the national anthem is right--el salvador does wear a blue hat, it's that amazing sky! i was shocked when i went to Tegucigalpa, Honduras a few weeks ago and it was cloudy and raining. the flip flops that i've been sporting for 5 months just didn't cut it. i had forgotten about all that rain stuff. i guess that's one good thing about deforestation--it keeps things all nice and toasty and cuts down on that pesky rain. so out of the fields and into the city--yet again. i finished my tour of duty in the community--and just in time too. i was so ready to get the hell out of there. and i think it was obvious--i gave my last class on a friday and saturday morning me and my fat backpack got on the bus to san salvador. you know i can complain about a whole lot of stuff that goes on in the U.S., but let me tell you that after 3 months in the el salvadoran campo the SEXISM was practically more than i could handle. not to say that sexism doesn't exist in the US, because obviously it does...it's more that it's practice in the campo is like SEXISM--THE EXTREME SPORT!! just huge and undeniable and in your face. it was the christmas experience that put me over the edge. at first things were super relaxed and fun--i went around to people's houses and ate christmas sandwhiches, chatted with the ladies, danced with the kids--a wholesome jolly experience. people go crazy with fire works for christmas, too. so beginning around sunset, there were intermittent explosions that steadily increased in frequency. around 7pm or so i was tantalized by strains of dance music coming from a neighboring house--so i went a danced with the younguns, whilst the older crowd sat around watching and chilling out. but little by little i noticed that the men and boys were disappearing...and the women too. but not together. all the "decent" women, girls and little ones go and lock themselves into their homes, while the men and older boys get drunk and set off fireworks, all night long. doesn't seem too bad, right? well, that's because our idea of getting drunk and the community's definition of getting drunk are two different things. see the women lock themselves away because the men use christmas as an excuse to get drunk and take out whatever aggressions they have built up, on women, or on generally whoever happens to be around. the women don't get drunk and party with the men, because it's dangerous and they can get raped or killed. so of course me, from the city and from the u.s., am used to partying with both sexes and celebrating and laughing and having a damn good time during the holidays. i wanted to hang out with the boys and set off fireworks all night long--not even drink--just participate in the festivities instead of going to bed at 9pm. sorry, not possible. and maybe it's difficult to understand my point--like who cares that lisa had to go to bed early on christmas. well, i had to go to bed because men prey on women in the countryside--becuase they know that they're stronger, because they can get drunk and take out their aggressions on people perceived to be weaker. because nobody's going to stop them. since this is a known and well understood fact, the women lock themselves away on christmas and don't open the door. nor do women lock themselves in and drink in safety: they don't drink. drinking basically means looking for trouble, being mean and getting into fights. so women don't drink. the same shit goes down on new year's too. for the women the holidays are a time to be very, very cautious, a time to worry about the welfare of your family and yourself. the holidays mean nights when it's difficult to sleep because of all the fireworks and drunken shouting. so, i had a relatively strong bout of man-hate going on around the holidays. sorry male readers, but it's the plain truth. there were a variety of other reasons that also contributed to me strong desire to leave the community, but that's enough for now. then i got back to the san salvador, decompressed, partied and went to Honduras to renew my visa. poor, poor honduras. the capital tegucigalpa doesn't even look like a city--just a sort of mismatched jumble of neighborhoods, scattered across a bunch of hills. there's no sidewalks in the city center--just tiny streets filled with taxis, buses, vendors and pedestrians all messed together. apparently after haiti, honduras and nicaragua regularly switch places for second most poor country in well--all of the americas. but i think of all the central american countries, you hear the least about honduras--it sort of doesn't exist in the world news. i went to the capital and hung out with jason and some of his pals from chicago, who were visiting some campesino communities in resistance there. then i went to the copan ruins--absolutely stunning mayan ruins. the center of an ancient city, with temples, a ball court, residences, stelas--covered in heiroglypics! gorgeous, but i also remembered that i hate tourism too. especially after seeing the extreme poverty that exists throughout honduras, being in this town literally called Copan Ruins (in spanish copan ruinas)--a town that was basically a shopping mall, with shiny pretty stone streets, dozens of stores and restaurants and white people walking around speaking english, gleefully unaware that the actual descendants of the mayans were living extremely close by, but in shack houses out of sight of pretty pretty copan ruinas. and these descendants of the maya don't get any of the proceeds from the ruins. it's ten bucks to get in. but let's get a little bit of monetary perspective: there's about 18 or 19 lempira (honduran currency) for each dollar. my seven hour busride from the capital to copan ruinas cost around 7 dollars (150 lempira). street food cost about 10 lempira. a banana cost 1 lempira. so ten bucks goes a long way, but none of it goes to the indigenous people whose ancestors built the city of copan. in fact these people have to pay to enter, just like everybody else. needless to say, that situation pissed me off. other big news: the longtime political leader of the fmln--schafik handal--had a heart attack and died while i was in honduras. there were a number of events around this. including a funeral procession with 100 thousand people from all over the country. it was amazing. just a sea of fmln red, with everybody chanting, singing, remembering and reaffirming the power of the movement. a few days later there was a march against CAFTA, put on by 8 separate groups (unions, students, religious groups, teachers), who each went to different parts of the city to voice their resistance against the free trade agreement with the US. i went with the students from the national university--it was fun and according to the peeps here, things went very smoothly. the crazy thing about central america is that i could literally participate in a political action somewhere in the region every single day. there's always strikes, marches, gatherings, what have you. the people are used to being organized, and it's very clearly seen. but i have to lay low, because if the government gets wind that i'm a leftist supporting the movement here, i could be deported for no other reason than being seen at a peaceful march. pretty crazy being on the other size of the fence! these days i'm living with some friends of ale´s, settling into city life again (which means meeting a bunch of people and partying way too much). i'm actually renting a room--a room built for the maid. it's totally wacked--the apartment buildings in my neigborhood have three bedroom flats. there's two apartments per floor, with all the normal apartment stuff. but these apartments also come with maid's quarters on the roof: a little tiny room, just four walls and a ceiling, near the sinks for washing laundry. this is where my room is. so when i need to go pee, i walk out of my room, lock it, go down a flight of stairs to the actual apartment where my roommates live, unlock the door and go to the bathroom. these days, people don't generally have maids living in these rooms. usually they're storage spaces or they get rented to poor students. but still--maid's quarters! it's nice and private. we painted it pretty colors and i can look at the sky when i step out of my room. i'm comfortable. can't really complain. i'm about to start my position coordinating the elections delegation and political school. i'm getting a serious trial by fire political education. i feel well adjusted and sort of strangely taken aback by how well adjusted i feel, considering i was just living in the countryside for 3 months. but i'm used to the city, so it's easy. plus i'm surrounded by good people. until the next episode: i'll be thinking of you when i look out from my rooftop, this cinderella in colonia libertad. love lisa |
# posted by lisa @ 1:15 PM 
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There are tons of Honduran migrant laborers here in New Orleans rebuilding the city and working in the worst conditions... -Sera B
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