By Kyle Underseth
At
about 8 o'clock p.m. on May 25th, our Brophy-El Salvador group arrived
in a new world, both literally and metaphorically. As we gathered our bags and
headed out the airplane door, we were all hit with a wall of humidity. For many
of us, we had never been in a country that was 85 degrees with 85% humidity. We
walked out of the airport dripping with sweat. This struggle with the weather
would prove to be a metaphor for our new struggle to cope with the morbid and
depressing truths that we would hear in the upcoming days.
The unexpected weather was enough to
single handedly make me feel uncomfortable in this new place. I should have
realized it would rain every day, due to the humidity, but I didn't. As we
drove to the FUNDAHMER hostel, the organization that coordinates the trip, it
started raining after a few minutes. At that point, I laughed to myself
considering I had brought one sweatshirt. I had a feeling I was going to truly
be living in solidarity with the people. For the rest of that night, it
continued to rain. I remember falling asleep to the sound of rain drops hitting
the roof of the hostel, one of my favorite things to listen to.
The next morning we headed out to Morazán. It took about 5 hours to get there, but it gave me time to think and relax about what was going to happen there. The first night seemed to be pretty typical; light rain, a bit cold, and bugs everywhere. However, it was the next night where my true bravery was shown (sarcastic). There was a storm that had swept in during the afternoon and was at full force by evening. While we were dancing in village chapel, a lightning bolt hit within a mile of the building. Immediately following it, there was an explosion of thunder. At the time, I didn't know it was lightning because I didn't see the bolt, so I jumped behind a pole, crouched to the ground, and grabbed a support column and said "that sounded like a bomb!" After everyone got a good laugh at my response to the thunder, I ran back to my adobe house built by my madre, Basilia. We got to the house just before the rain started to intensify. After Bryan Saba and I got ready for bed, I slipped into my hammock. Have you ever slept in a house with a metal roof during a lightning storm? Well, I hadn't until that night and I still remember my heart jumping every time I heard thunder or saw lightning. Because I couldn't sleep, I grabbed my journal and started writing. There are words that don't make any sense because I would slide my hand across the page every time I heard the thunder or because random drops of water would drip on me from the ceiling throughout the night. Despite the terrifying storm and my incredible lack of manhood, I eventually got to sleep. The next night, at about 2 in the morning, there was a 7.1 magnitude earthquake in Honduras. Even miles away, in LA Hacienda, we felt the tremors from the quake. I heard some of the kids talking about how the hammocks they were sleeping in started to sway back and forth and how they weren't sure what was happening. Throughout the trip, the rain continued to fall every day.
With the odd weather came amazing
hospitality. I specifically remember the first night in La Hacienda when it was
raining. I was so nervous the house would fall down because the rain was coming
down so hard. I'm pretty sure my house in Arizona would have for sure. However,
Basilia convinced me that everything would be fine. She then tucked me into bed
and made sure I was comfortable. Day after day, I experienced people from the
villages going out of their way to make sure we were comfortable. It humbled me
and made me question how the United States could fund a war that harmed the
most caring, hardworking, and intelligent people. I don't understand how entire
pueblos were wiped off the map and nobody took the blame for what happened.
Nothing had been as real as the last few days; listening to stories, meeting
people, and seeing places where massacres happened. Although our government
funded a civil war here that destroyed Salvadoran society and killed more than
70,000 civilians, the people of the villages still treated us with such
hospitality. They took us in with no hesitation and shared some of the most
heart-felt stories I have ever heard.
Thus far in my experience, I am not
sure what I am feeling. I would get goose bumps and shivers during war talks
and my body would tense up. I have now been in a country for seven days that I
had no previous knowledge of, despite the book we read before coming. It breaks
my heart that everyone in the world cannot have the opportunity to spend time
with my madre, Basilia, or Anita Ortiz, who told us a story of losing all five
of her brothers in the war. I am extremely grateful for the chance I have been
given to make a change in the future. I guess it's hard to explain what I am
feeling because I am in a different country experiencing some of the saddest
events of my life.
I miss you and I love you Mom, Dad, Sam and Kelly! =]
Kyle
Your description of the environment provided us with a real sense of "being there". I had to write this email prior to your mother to tell you I saw her with tears flowing down her face as she was reading the part where Basilia tucked you into bed. It is heart wrenching to see someone, in our society terms "who have so little", give a stranger her unconditional love. I know it would be very difficult for me to display this demonstration of caring to someone I didn't know and who would be out of my life in a matter of days. I have come to realize that I might be better of having a little more of "having so little"
By the way, you still have to mow the lawn when you get back since it is getting a little long. I couldn't convince your mother to mow it last weekend.
One Love
Dad
Hi Bud (Kyle). It was a great way to wake up this morning with a posting from you. Although we have enjoyed reading the stories from the other "men" we have been anxiously waiting for yours. I smiled when I read the part about how you enjoy hearing the rain fall on the rooftop. You really do love the rain. In the 4 years we have lived in Arizona more often than not you have woken up in the morning and asked me, "is it going to rain today?" If the answer was "Yes" your face would light up just like the smiling faces of all the beautiful children in the photos we have seen from El Junquillo and La Hacienda. We are so thankful for Brophy , Mr. Broyles and all the others who have made this trip possible. There has been many comments on how you will never forget the people you have met and your experiences. I truly believe this and I think I speak for us parents that we will never forget either. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Love you lots, Mom
Kyle, let me start by saying that it's disappointing not to see a purple dinosaur shirt in the pictures. It's like Batman going out without those pointy things on his head. What's up with that? Beyond that, i appreciate your honesty in sharing that you're not exactly sure what you're feeling...it'd be easy (and unsurprising) to chuck some pathos in there for circumstance's sake, but you admit an unease with defining that which is coursing through your soul as you witness such sadness, in tension with the grace of those you're meeting. I appreciate that you identify it and wrestle with it...such is the beginnings of the change for which you potentially look. Keep looking, listening, feeling, questioning, and praying...its a good way to be. --mr walsh
Hey Kyle!
While reading your posting, memories of our years in Costa Rica came flooding back. The intensity of the electrical storms, the ferocity of the rain, the hospitality of the people, the abundance of life, the experience of a different culture, environment and language. It truly is wonderful that you are getting to experience all this at your age. Savor every moment, squeeze it, taste it, feel it, take it all in for these are but fleeting moments with which you are blessed. Be of good cheer and most of all have fun!
bb
so proud of you:) love you and miss you:)
hi kyle...iam so thrilled for you. what wonderful memories you stirred up for me and our time living in costa rica. brian used to call it "t-shirt rain". the lessons we learned about u.s. policy and how it impacts these cultures left me forever changed. iam certain that this experience will leave a indent on your heart and how wonderful it is to go forth smarter and with more compassion. you, dear heart, will make such a difference in this world...love you, aunt leslie
Hi Kyle,
What a great story you have to tell about your experiences in El Salvador. I don't think I want to be with you in a thunder storm though!!!! I am very proud of you and pops would be too I am sure he would have given you a hard time about the thunder storm!!!! I can't wait for you to get home and tell us more about your experinces. Love to you Kyle and you are in my prayers .
Grandma
Hey Kyle,
What a great experience. I think you will remember this for a long time. It is hard to image loosing so many family members due to a war. I guess we are all very lucky living in the states. Looking forward to hearing more about your trip.
Uncle Mark
Hi Kyle,
It's good to see that you've exported your own special brand of hat-wearing to El Salvador.
It's even better to read your honest and raw reactions to your experiences with Basilia, humidity, thunder, and earthquakes. Your authenticity has never been in question, Kyle. Keep telling it like it is. And your originality is such a special gift that you bring to those you are meeting in El Salvador and those you'll help later, or as you say, when you "make a change in the future," which, by the way, I think is a dandy expression.
See you in July.
Mr. Damasos
Hey Kyle Buddy-
I am thinking of our talk on the eve of your departure and of your concern of how this event might change you. Being a little farther down the road I
thought of experiences that have bumped me to look at life with a new perspective. Reading your words I feel you have been bumped a little off center yourself. Being touched by other peoples and cultures is truly a gift.
You are very lucky, but you still have to mow the lawn.
Love ya
Uncle Stumpy
Kyle, you're a stud!! I feel that you've really captured the essence of your experience and placed them into some really heart felt words! It is nice to visit another part of the world just to see how really fortunate we are to live in such a wonderful country. Can't wait to hear the stories in person when we come out to visit in a couple of months! BTW, our buddy Torrey just made the u-17 National soccer team. I think he is going to travel to south america in a month or so. Have a safe journey back, This will be an experience you'll never forget!
Ciao,
Dr D
Kyle,
For desert kids, the rain is the most calming and humbling phenomenon imaginable. I remember having a similar experience. It rained 11/12 days we were there, while tropical storms swept through neighboring countries. I too remember falling asleep to the sound of water falling on Basilia's metal roof because Mr. Broyles purposefully didn't tell us to bring ear plugs. If you ask any guy who went last year, they will tell you that "the" bonding experience of our trip was the night it rained during dinner in La Hacienda. We sat there laughing and experiencing the miracles around us, not caring at all that each one of us was dripping wet. There was just an awesome sense of humility that brought all of us down to earth that night. I think it's great that you used rain as a frame for your reflection, because as they say in V for Vendetta, "God is in the rain."
One last thing, Kyle. It's good that you don't know how to feel right now. That means the trip was a success, and that discernment is coming up soon.
Hi Kyle,
Hope you are enjoying your trip as much as my son Vincent did 2 years ago. He returned a wiser and more mature person then when he left.
I was so happy to hear how well you have been doing in school and was so pleased we were able to visit with you during our stay in Arizona.
Best Regards,
Phil
Kyle,
What an awesome description. Thanks for putting us there and sharing yourself through the blog. I agree with Mr. Walsh, was hoping for a big dinosaur shirt, but maybe it's in other pictures? :) The trip sounds like a success, no doubt in part to your openness and ability to simply be present to your peers as well as people like Basilia. I have never been to El Salvador, and your descriptions of both the environment and the tragic stories help me to picture it, although I'm sure this blog is merely the tip of the iceberg of your experience there. Thanks for sharing.
Ms. Cardinali