Massacres, tractors, thankful not to be in the boonies.

Imagine this. Around 1,000 people are killed by government soldiers. Men, women, children, babies. Everyone in town is brutally massacred. Then the government says it didn’t happen. But there are 1,000 people missing and photos of the mass graves exist.
Crazy? Couldn’t happen? Right?!?

This week I visited a town called El Mozote a few miles from my site where just such a massacre occurred. During the civil war here, from 1981-1992 , the U.S. backed Salvadoran government soldiers massacred an entire town as a part of their “scorched earth policy”. The Salvadoran army flat out denied that it happened and the U.S. was eventually forced to admit that it maybe, well, could’ve possibly, sorta happened. Only one woman survived while she hid and had to watch her children, husband and neighbors be executed. Crazy.

There is a mini-monument here to the people who were killed (although the number of people killed is still disputed). It was a pretty somber experience because on these plaques you see things like: Moises Claros, Eugenia Claros and 5 children, dead, and similar plaques of entire families who were murdered. Disheartening, depressing, heartbreaking, but all the while amazing. The people here are resilient. My town was the capital of the guerilla forces and my pueblo, along with the entire department were the most affected areas during the war. The Peace Accords were signed in 1992, and the area has a long way to go, particularly in the schools where I have been spending a majority of my time.

So, after the sadness that is El Mozote I went to visit another volunteer, a Rural Health volunteer. That means he’s RURAL. I had to take a pretty sweet downhill 30-minute hike to get to his site from El Mozote (beautiful views, I’ve included photos). There are roads, just no transportation. WHEW. Obviously I was excited to get there and didn’t let the fact that a downhill arrival would mean an uphill return, not fun. Jimbo, the volunteer who I visited, requested a special bio in my blog. Height: six-two Weight, when he doesn’t have amoebas and parasites: 170-180 lbs. Devastating handsome. Voted as his Peace Corps Superlative: Most likely to be Don Juan of both Peace Corps Volunteers and Salvadoran women (big honor, right?!).

So, I arrived to his house where there was a giant tractor that broke in his front yard. To date, there are no plans to remove the tractor. Jimbo, the surly, manly man he is, has purchased a machete to cut through the undergrowth on the way to and from his site. Machetes are common here, almost every man carries his machete, around town, on the pick up trucks (the main mode of transport here) and for various agricultural endeavors.
I thought I would wield a machete on top of the tractor, because, hey, when will I ever take a photo with a machete on top of a broken tractor? Every day is an adventure in Peace Corps.

Also, I have been asked out by a 17 year old kid. Awkward. He came up to visit me to get help with his English homework, and was apparently expecting some Chemistry. I let him down easy, don’t worry.

Oh, and for my weekend adventure, I got parasites.

Oh, and I went to church because a few people from town invited me. It was three hours. Jesus Christ! He’s serious business.