How Could We Forgive the Water?

1.21.19

The morning came WAY too early after our late night of festival and lunar eclipse action.  We only got about five hours of sleep even though we pushed back our usual schedule by a half hour.  And right when we got up, it started to rain.  Ugh.

But then our day took a turn.  We were eating oatmeal and drinking coffee and our driver suddenly showed up.  We were panicking that we needed to jump up and run out the door.  But really Luis wanted to come by and say that we shouldn’t actually start this morning, as he needed some time to gather some materials for our projects.  

We were, of course, heartbroken that we didn’t get to run out the door and start lifting and loading rocks and bags of cement (HA!), but we managed to adjust.  Once we realized we had some time to get things done, we decided to make use of some of it to award two new purple bikes: to Jenny and Sticky, who flew back to New York today.  They, of course, were inducted into the Order of the Purple Bike long ago, but they get new recognition on each new trip.  On this one, we each said a few words about each of them and their impact on us and on our trip.  We agreed that they are true role models for all of us in the warmth of their approach to leadership, their compassion, their sincere curiosity about all of us and our interests, their health and first aid advice, and their general likeability.  We each had meaningful conversations with each of them, which is hard to make happen in a very short period of time among relative strangers. We are very glad they made time to join us; we know our trip was improved by their presence.  

Once the purple bike ceremony was over, we got on with plans for the day.  We capitalized on some of our newfound time to clean up our house, which had once again gotten out of hand.  At the same time, a contractor came to replace the whole door and doorframe for one of our bathrooms, as the frame had given way and left us operating with only one hinge (the bottom one).  We managed pretty well to keep the door intact while it was barely hanging on, mostly because that level of privacy was pretty important for us to maintain. We look forward to using the new fully functioning door for the rest of our stay. 

While the contractor was using a power saw to custom cut the door pieces, we made a chart of our program for the workday, including agendas for “workshops” (lessons?) for the kids. Each team came up with a song to sing, a game to play, an English lesson, a health/nutrition/fitness item, and an arts/crafts idea.  We made little flashcards and got the pieces together for the games we wanted to play and the exercises we needed to do.   

We were so quick about it that some of us got to squeeze in a quick morning nap to help supplement our minimal sleep from last night.  The camp crew had to deal with house towels and bathrooms, but others got to luxuriate a bit on their air mattresses before our lunchtime pickup.  

Once we got picked up, we headed for San Isidro for lunch.  Today we had lasagna, rice, vegetables, salad, dressing, and juice. They also brought out a big huge can of peaches in heavy syrup for desert.  

After lunch was complete, we headed off into the neighborhoods to try to promote our afternoon programs this week.  We walked around with some students from the university, who helped us to get some new perspective on the area.  They also translated for us with the families and helped to make us seem less alien to the community.  Because we got a late start, we didn’t do any workshops today; we just laid the groundwork to be able to do them on other days.  

We find this time in the community to be an important component of our partnership. If we just show up and immediately start swinging hammers and wielding shovels, we might seem like an invading force.  We don’t want to seem that way.  So, we come to the community, share a meal, walk around, look at things, let people look at us, ask questions, answer questions, and talk about the community’s hopes and dreams.  Doing all of this helps to ease our entry into the context, both for us and for the residents. 

Today’s walk through the community gave us a whole different perspective from our experiences this weekend in the city center where the tourists tend to be.  We appreciated our time downtown, but found that the contrasts between the commercial areas and the residential areas are very jarring.  

In our reflection session tonight, we noted that city centers tend to be placed on land that is highly desirable, perhaps because it is defensible against both human and natural assaults.  The residential areas, then, especially those that house the poor, are elsewhere. Sometimes those areas have vulnerabilities that seem untenable and that would convince most of us to live elsewhere. But we talked at length about how important the place one lives is, no matter what the deficits or detractions. 

We talked about our affection for this house, even when we just lived for a few days with the bathroom door hanging by a thread.  We noted how much we love it and feel attached to it after only a couple of weeks, making it more clear how difficult it would be to have generations of families occupy an area and then face the risk of losing that home.  

As we continued to ruminate on these important issues, we also awarded another purple bike: to Kresha. Yesterday we walked nearly nine miles in total as we made our way to the festival. Kresha had let us know that sometimes her knees give her trouble but she also let us know that she wanted to attend the festival.  She endured the full distance that the rest of us covered, as there was really no other choice.  Beyond this act of endurance, Kresha has been quite a force in our discussions and reflections.  Many of us detailed the conversations with Kresha that have really opened our eyes and helped us to see things in entirely new ways.  We also acknowledged her bravery, as she took her first plane ride ever and joined our already-existing group for a grueling one-month commitment. She is also hilariously funny, especially when she is describing experiences, whether good ones or bad ones. And further, she is a gifted poet and writer.  Tonight, she and Sophia did a performance piece featuring one of Kresha’s recent works. It might show up on today’s video, but here is the text of the poem itself:

How could we forgive the water?

How could we begin to sing with the salt and dance in the sand when in ’89, ’96, and ’17 it baptized us without our permission?

How could we forgive the water, when it didn’t listen?

It washed everything into complete submission and now these waves that once killed are healing?

But if these waves could speak I’m sure they’d cry out: intent was never to drown but to cleanse.  I’m sure they’d apologize.

For they have no control over whether they hurt or heal.  They just obey the commands of the wind. 

We have been afraid to trust.  To get in. We have been afraid to let these waves that once washed away everything wrap around us.  

But aren’t we all the ocean?

Aren’t we all hurricanes?

Intending to cleanse but drowning?

Aren’t we all hurricanes wanting to water the flowers but the aftermath of us leaves their petals floating in different directions?

Aren’t we all hurricanes? Trying to come like spring but we are fall.  

Aren’t we all Christopher, stealing but calling it discovery?

Aren’t we all the ocean?

Aren’t we all hurricanes?

Paving a road with good intentions, yet no one can drive on it?

So I guess the question isn’t how can we forgive the water, but how can we forgive ourselves?  How can we love after we have caused destruction? How can we look at the aftermath and forgive how we’ve been complicit?

We are the hurricane we need to forgive!

These waters drowned the land but we colonized it.  We are the hurricane.  Let’s step into ourselves, forgive, and let the reparations begin.  

--D’Kresha Adams, January 2019

On our walk in San Isidro, we saw many house with blue tarps. This means that they get aid from FEMA. 

A destroyed building from the aftermath of the hurricane that has not been rebuild

Surrounding San Isidro, you have beautiful views of agricultural lowland 

A local café/bar that is in the San Isidro community

The hurricane not only destroyed homes but it destroyed nature surrounding San Isidro.

As you can see, Stephane was ready to go back to San Isidro today!

Shrapnel from a house that will never be completed.

The blue tarps signifying FEMA aid.

 Houses torn from the earth, leaving only shadows from past lives lived.