This one time in El Salvador…

Have you ever woken up to the sound of automatic guns firing off? (All my homies from the ghetto say “Ay!”) That’s really not a common occurrence in my life, and I’m very thankful for that. But this has happened to me once before (unfortunately I’ve awoken to the sound of ‘regular’ guns firing off a few more times). I’m reminded of this incident on this day that we vote here in the USA.

The year was 1994. Were you alive then? I sure was. :0) I was in post-civil war San Salvador. The utter chaos of a 12 year war had substantially decreased by the time I had arrived, however, the effects of poverty and fear remained with many people. If you want to learn the background of this war, I highly recommend the movie Romero. Basically, what had happened was not uncommon to many Latin-American countries: “…peasants living at subsistence level without running water or electricity, while a tiny privileged minority lived in wealth and opulence…” Thank you, Wikipedia. And of course you’ve got the crazy government-backed military being countered by guerilla forces. And the Catholic church decides to take a moral stand, and pays for it with lives. And the events went on and on. But back to the machine guns.

I was asleep with several other friends of mine in a small apartment room. We were there on a trip to work with children of El Salvador. I was fairly young (shall I reveal my age here? … nah), and I didn’t entirely understand the situation I was in. I had known others who had gone down prior to my trip, and had been on a bus that was hijacked by men with guns. So I knew the situation was a little out of control. But, I was wrapped up in being surrounded by these awesome, lovely children. But then I woke up to machine gun fire.

The rounds went off and off. I awoke not really knowing what the heck was happening at first. It was early morning, if I remember correctly. I was startled not knowing if those shots were going to be coming my way. It sounded far enough away that I would be in safely for a little bit. The rounds continued. Were they just showing off? Were they hitting buildings? People? Later that day, my El Salvadoranian hosts made no mention of it. Neither did I. I wasn’t sure what to think. I was just thankful for being safe. But how about the people outside of my little apartment? Were they safe?

OK, so nothing big or scary happened that January morning. Hallelujah. But today, on the day that we assert our rights and our voice here in this country, I remember this time. As El Salvador was recovering back in 1993 from a horrendous war, I wonder now if my incredible hosts had gotten to experience the freedom to vote without oppression? My little apartment in San Salvador was safe… just as I am safe here in the US. But outside of these “walls” there are terrible things happening. The human rights violations that occur across the world… will those people be allowed to “stand up” and share their opinion? I don’t know. But I do know what he have in the US is truly an amazing experiment. It’s not perfect that’s for sure. However, I do know that I did not wake up to gun fire this morning. What a relief. I woke up to people Twittering about how they voted and were happy to do so. And what a challenge for me to wake up and remember that I have a major responsibility to help people on this earth, in my nation, my community and in my family.

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