Sunday, April 15, 2007

Three Month Reflection

Over the past month I don't feel like I've had any personal breakthroughs or major challenges. I'm becoming more comfortable, with my Spanish in particular. I'm continuing to learn more and more about what life is like here. I successfully ate a couple meals without using a fork (in the campo they use tortillas and fingers as their utensils). Now that we only have one month left (less because I'm writing this late), I'm scared both about returning to the U.S. and about all the schoolwork I have to do in the next three weeks. I want to go home because I miss my family and my friends, but I will be very sad to leave my Salvadoran friends. I'll also be sad to leave my new U.S. friends, but at least I know I'll have opportunities to see them again. I don't have any concrete plans to return to El Salvador after this. I'd like to, but I don't know if it's something that will happen. It's possible that these are people I will never see again. I know that's the way life is - you meet new people, lose touch with them, meet more new people, and so on, but it's especially hard knowing how much the Salvadorans will need to struggle for the rest of their lives.

Something I've been reflecting on lately is how it must feel to be from a country like El Salvador. I think I would either have a major inferiority complex, or I would be very angry. El Salvador is completely dominated by the U.S. In essence, they are constantly being told they are not as good as the U.S. Their country isn't as good, their culture isn't as good, their lives aren't as good. I am continuing to realize more and more what privilege U.S. citizens have. I already knew about how difficult it is for immigrants to cross the border into the U.S. from Mexico, either legally or illegally, but it turns out Central Americans can't even get into Mexico legally without great difficulty. If I can travel to practically any country in the world I want because of where I happened to be born, and a Salvadoran has practically zero chance of getting into countries like the U.S. and Mexico, and many others, I would imagine, isn't that basically the world saying Salvadorans are not as good as U.S. citizens? Poor people are treated as if they are worth less than rich people, and people from poor countries are treated as if they're worth less than people from rich countries. As I type this, Teresita, one of the scholarship students I live with, is laying on the floor next to me studying. It breaks my heart how many privileges I have over her. She has worked so much harder in her life than I probably ever will, yet I am the one who is able to get on a plane and fly to the U.S. in a few weeks, safely and quickly, to a house with more computers than people and a university that costs nearly $40,000 a year. Tom, one of the staff people for the Casa program, recently traveled the route that immigrants take from El Salvador, through Guatemala and Mexico, up to the U.S. He said that nearly every woman he met along the way had gotten a shot that keeps you from getting pregnant for six months. There's an almost 100% chance of sexual abuse if you try to make this journey. Fortunately, I don't think Teresita has any plans to try to go to the U.S., but it is not fair that I can go there and she can't. She would probably contribute much more to society if she had the opportunities I had. It was just a matter of chance that she was born to a poor family in El Salvador and I was born to a middle class family in the United States. I really don't like borders. I don't like nationalism. I don't like patriotism. I wish we could all just respect each other's dignity. I wish we could just love one another.

Probably everyone reading this is from the United States. Imagine being from a country where you are told you're not good enough to get into another country unless you're really really rich. The two obvious responses to me are internalizing this inferiority or becoming very angry. It always pains me to hear Salvadorans who talk about how grateful or honored they are to have us here. I always want to tell them "No, we're not that great." Maybe they're just being nice, but I think it has to do with how glorified the U.S. is here. I don't want U.S. culture to spread to other countries. To me, it consists of individualism, competition, money, greed, consumerism, killing terrorists (and Communists), instant gratification, constant entertainment, glamor, and fame. I know the U.S. has many redeeming qualities, but it seems like they're always overshadowed by the bad ones. Money always controls and decides everything. I don't think Salvadorans glorify the U.S. for its values - it's the money. The remittances from Salvadorans in the U.S. bring in more money to the country than coffee, one of the country's primary crops. The economy is completely dependent on the U.S. Is that why people are so nice to us here? We have power over them. In a few years, we could be the powerful ones in the U.S. We're college educated, mostly middle and upper class, almost entirely white (among 24 students, there's one African American, one Asian American, two Latin Americans, and 20 very white people) U.S. citizens. We are potentially the ones who will be making decisions that affect the lives of Salvadorans in very big ways. That's why we're here: so we'll make the right decisions, based on what we've learned from our experience here. The structure of power in the world is so distorted. It has everything to do with money and nothing to do with merit.

I ran across a Bible verse the other day that I thought would be good to end on: "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good" (Romans 12:21). Whether I like it or not, I (and you) have a lot of power over a lot of people. Let's use it for some good.

1 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

Yes, lets.

:)

You rock, rock! Er.. Amber! I am all for less consumerism and greed, and more giving of ourselves and appreciating the good in the world.

7:33 AM  

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