February 15th 2010 – El Mozote's “Living History Farms"

Chon (our visitor from Spain) who in the past has spent substantial time in El Salvador with Sister Ana Maria – who spent even more time here during the war and after – had never been to El Mozote.  So the Pastoral Team volunteered to take her.  With yours truly as the driver of course.

I certainly don’t mind being a chauffer.  It is a part of my job really.  Especially since I’m realistically the only one who drives here…and is available ‘free of charge’ – always a good thing!

But I know the distance.  And I’ve never driven there – I’ve always been a passenger in a Microbus with our hired drivers.  And on top of that – I’m usually fast asleep before we even get to San Miguel!

It is about a 2 and a half hour drive ONE WAY.  And with the uncertainty of my ability to navigate – well – I was a bit preoccupied!  But of course, I want to go, too.  And it is an important place to learn a bit of the atrocity of the Civil War here.

We planned to do the usual visit: first to El Mozote to see the memorial and the Garden of the Innocents near the church.  Then we would drive about 15 minutes to Perquin to the Museum of the Revolution.  Then we would do lunch in our usual little hilltop restaurant.

I had my own little plan.  Since I’d been to the Perquin museum probably 15 or 20 times, I decided I would try to catch a half hour of nap. 

We ultimately made it to our destination.  Needing to stop and ask a couple times only to find out we were on the right path.  I wasn’t recognizing the scenery – but as I said – normally I would be fast asleep during this leg of the trip!!   We visited El Mozote and within a half hour we were ready to move on. 

I easily found my way to the Perquin museum.  We parked – paid for Chon, Alisha, Aminta (who also had never been) and Blanca to go in.  Idalia and I were going to wait outside.  Well – after everyone went into the museum – a sign caught my eye.  It said something like “encampment” with a hand painted arrow.  I had heard that there was a mock-up of a guerrilla camp in Perquin.  I just figured it would be quite a way outside of the town so hadn’t even asked about it figuring I’d never get to it with a delegation in tow. 

So I ambled over to the sign and a woman pointed me to a place across the street.  And there was the entrance!  So I walked over and saw there was an admission price (75 cents).  I told Idalia I was going to go check it out figuring I would have 20 minutes to a half hour while the others were in the main museum.  Heck with sleeping.

I walked into the area and was greeted by a man ready to give me a tour.  His name was Efrain.  He proceeded to guide me to several sections of the camp to explain what they were.  He had a decided limp and his left arm hung almost uselessly.  I found out he had been shot: the bullet went through his head and damaged his spine affecting his whole left side.  It didn’t slow him down though.  Well – he did walk slowly but not too. 

This place really reminded me of Living History Farms in Iowa.  It had a place displaying the clandestine Radio Venceremos, a kitchen, hospital, operating room, resting shelter, meeting shelter, escape tunnel, hand made bridges – 3 different styles to cross over high ravines.  Here I need to say that I was quite scared to cross over, but I did it anyway.

Everything was portable and camouflaged with trees, tarp, leaves and dirt. 

All through the tour, Efrain explained what everything was.  There was an unexploded home made land mine with big signs saying ‘look but don’t touch’ – and bomb shrapnel.  There was a big 6 meter deep by about 4 meters round hole in the ground where a 500# bomb fell but did not explode.   The hole was amazingly big for a non exploding bomb. 

I didn’t see the entire encampment because time was passing and I didn’t want to make those at the main museum wait for me and as it turned out, I got to our meeting place within 2 minutes of the group.  When they found out where I was, they wanted to see it as well.  So I went back with them.  I did not have to pay a second time and Efrain was our guide again.  They were glad they went.  And I really think this should be a part of the museum experience when we visit El Mozote and Perquin.  We as North Americans, for the most part, have NO idea what life is like during a war: the constant fear, the constant need for moving about to not be discovered, the harsh and dangerous environment, the filthy conditions in which they had to cook, work, relax, perform surgeries, raise their families, etc. 

I’m so glad I stumbled upon this place.  And I’m grateful for all the people that are keeping the history alive.  Those that lived the horrors and find it important to tell the stories in the hopes that those horrors never return.   They are courageous men and women.

The sad part of it is – those horrors are still happening – in many countries and for many of the same reasons.  People want to live with dignity and without repression.  People want to work and to get paid fairly for their work.  They want to feed their families.  They want to speak freely, praise without persecution.  Justice and fairness.  It seems so simple.  Why does the world make it so difficult?

Comments

[Alisha]

Por favor!! Perquin!?