So what exactly is a life changing experience?

          So a few posts ago I wrote that my trip was a life changing experience. And then over Christmas break family began to ask, “how was it a life changing experience”?

Well let me begin with a quote from James Burke, “We are what we know and when what we know changes, we change”.

                  Last semester I learned and witnessed things that were previously unknown to me. I heard stories of war, oppression, of struggles and brokenness, but also of love and solidarity --stories that changed me. Granted hearing a story first hand is very different than my second hand retelling but I guess I will venture there now.

            There are two stories I will share now. But there are many others to share that also have a strong sting.            

           

            The first took place in Suchitoto, El Salvador. It was a beautiful morning and we were staying the weekend at our Professor’s Art Center for Peace. A place that harbors the creativity of youth to work towards restoration in an area heavily damaged from the war. That morning we went down to the lake where we hopped on a boat to learn about a community that had endured a massacre during the war. Unfortunately there was too much “lechuga” in the water and we weren’t going to make it in the boat through the “lechuga” to the community so we sped across the water to a field to listen to two people from the community share their testimonies. Honestly, I wasn’t the best listener this day. I was tired after little sleep the night before after a bat decided to fly around our tiny room. It was hot. There was no good place to sit, it seemed that wherever I sat, ants decided to find me. I literally had ants in my pants. Biting ants in my pants. But aside from these distractions the testimonies of these two people still managed to hit hard. 

The man shared about being a little boy at the time when the army came to the community. Men were separated from the women and children. The men disappeared and the women and children were lined up into 4 lines. The first line was brought to the front and within seconds they were slaughtered, like tin cans on a shooting range. Torn up, no longer with life. Then the second line, the third, and finally came time for the fourth. The screams were too much to bear and this young boy was about to become another innocent victim. However during this fourth round he was missed but he too dropped down and played dead. Eventually the soldiers left and he was alive. Now I wish I could tell you this better/more accurately but remember, ants in my pants. The man went on to tell us about the terrifying times of soldiers shooting at them from helicopters, and the helicopters being so close you could see the whites of their eyes. Just as he said this, a helicopter flew over our heads. I’ve never felt such a shiver run through my body. Imagining the terror that the sound of helicopters must make them feel. Sick. Disgusting. Honestly the idea of killing anyone ever is mind boggling to me, regardless of who he or she is and what they’ve done. And then children. Wow. And then you turn and think of children around the world, children in the middle east and the terror they must feel when they hear a US helicopter flying over, not sure if it’s going to kill them or their loved ones. US or whatever country. Doesn’t matter. Regardless it was such a chilling moment. And something no one should ever have to experience. Where is our humanity? What the fuck is wrong with us? Where is our creativity? Really, all we can turn to is guns? bombs, grenades? coool. so creative.

            The second story is from Nicaragua. It's related to this earlier post. After visiting a Free Trade Zone (a zone with foreign factories, almost 100% tax-free & there are lots of incentives for foreign businesses to be there) we visited with a women’s organization. One woman, María, shared a devastating story about when she was working in a Chinese factory. She had just been moved up to a manager position, alongside a Chinese woman. That particular day a pregnant woman working on the floor was starting to have pains. María tried to let her leave but the Chinese manager wouldn’t let the pregnant woman leave. Finally after a while the pregnant woman just left her spot and headed for the door. The Chinese manager blocked the door. In pain the pregnant woman sat on the floor and as soon as she did the manager grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, yelling at her to get back to work. And as she pulled the woman up, she aborted right there on the factory floor. Why? All because the Chinese manager wouldn’t let her go. Why? Probably because she would have lost her job. Why? Because losing an employee in the middle of shift means less production, less production means less profit, less profit means only one beach house for the owner, not two. Sorry that’s a lot of assuming at the end but you get the idea. The hard part is so much of what we buy is produced in free trade zones and it is hard to know what is actually produced in FTZ because companies go in under different names. So what do you do? Buy used. THRIFT SHOPPIN! Or be creative, make yo own shit.

I hope that now some things that you know have changed and maybe just maybe these second hand stories will change you too.