Here's what Eric Ryerson, RN, has to say about his volunteer experience at the Mission during first two weeks of October 2001.
I participated in the PeaceHealth Medical Mission to El Salvador the first two weeks of October 2001. I'm an R.N. with a smattering of Spanish, not good enough to discuss medical problems but good enough for a beer and the political discussion that usually follows. I was looking forward to this experience to improve my Spanish comprehension, become acquainted with the El Salvadoran people and hopefully to provide some medical care. Fortunately for me, I was able to do all three. My experience impacted me visually, moved me viscerally and improved me vocationally.
The visual aspects one first encounters are the colors; the pastel blue skies, the tropical green lushness, the multicolored buses, different hued buildings and homes, and the unabashed wearing of colorful garments all competing for attention and admiration. This is contrasted by the razor barbed wired coiled and stretched along the high walls and eaves of houses, the tall opaque gates and armed sentries everywhere. All businesses had armed guards at their entrances and loading docks, neighborhoods were enclosed with ex-military patrolling and deciding who could enter, banks with metal detectors, similar to our airport security, at the entrance.
People walked, sashayed down the sidewalks smiling at on-comers, uninhibited by the security precautions. Their possessions were safe and their minds free. The capital of San Salvador was bustling and giving evidence to a burgeoning middle class while the rural areas remained impoverished. Traffic was chaotic, rivers not slowing down for pedestrians, not acknowledging any road dividers/white lines, and everyone always in a hurry. In the rural areas, where vehicle ownership was rare, the people shared giving rides to anyone, usually in the back of a pick-up or the flatbed of a truck. It was not uncommon to see every available space taken with up to a dozen standing upright in the pick-up bed and 25-30 on the flatbed.
The Americanization of this country was obvious. From the proliferation of fast food joints – Wendy's, Dominos Pizza, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, to name a few. Texaco gas stations with their mini-marts, mall and ice cream stores lined the paseos of San Salvador. A few blocks away, beggars asking for a handout, kids walking among cars selling gum, newspapers, cell phone cases or anything they can. The hills surrounding the city topped with cell phone towers because the phone system is unreliable.
The people were/are friendly, greeting new friends with a firm handshake and the women with a peck on the right cheek. Human contact is accepted and welcomed whereas I feel in our Puritan-based country human contact is considered sensual/a come on/something to be suspicious of. I recall sitting one evening with Sister Eleanor watching CNN news (yes, we had cable TV) showing the memorial service for the September 11 terrorist attack. The people were asked to join together arm-in-arm. I told Sister Eleanor, "It's about time Americans held onto each other." And she replied, "Yes, it is." It's about connecting as human beings. The El Salvadorans greet each other when walking the street and when they see a foreigner, they especially watch their eyes. It is expected that one will greet them with a 'Buenas Dias' or 'Buenas Noches'. The know tragedy. They lost 60+ people in the Twin Towers and over 72,000 (dead or missing) in a 12-year civil war, which ended in 1992. All this occurred in a country the size of Massachusetts. Yet these people can undulate down the street to the rhythms of life, smiling even after the devastating earthquakes this past winter.
This was part of my visceral experience. There were American backed 'Death Squads' that assassinated Maryknoll nuns (Alexander Haig, then head of the Department of Defense said to the people back home they were gun runners for the leftists), six Jesuit priests that taught at the University of Central America (liberation theology is giving the people the wrong ideas) and finally the murder of their own Archbishop because he cared more for the poor than rich. Learning this history, seeing the museums and its documentation of the terrorism moved me. The horrible torture of people to terrorize a nation for the sake of business and profit appalls me. While Sister Eleanor was showing us this part of El Salvador's recent history, she shared some of her experiences related to her humanitarian aid. This too, was part of my visceral experience.
I was hooked up with a volunteer organization that offered free medical advice, consultations and medicine for those who couldn't afford it. This group, called Los Comandos de Salvamento, function solely on donations, mostly foreign sponsorship. I went out daily with one doctor and one nurse and was later joined by another doctor and nurse when the clinic at the Comandos base of operations closed. We went to prearranged sites and setup our clinic, rurally it was usually schools and in San Salvador it was usually a barrio meeting room. Dr. Douglas would greet the people who had gathered and gave them the rules for our service plus some general hygiene and nutritional tips. The rules were basic: all children were to be with their parents or responsible adult (usually an older sibling or neighbor at least 13 years of age), no more than three children could receive prescriptions if the parents were also getting medicines (too easy to mix up the meds and give the wrong dose) and the parent/adult needed to be able to read. The people were given numbers and waited patiently until it was their turns. The first days I just sat and listened, jottings few notes and tuning my ear for the language. Between patients Douglas would talk to me about the signs and symptoms he'd look for and the key words or phrases that offered clues to the illness. It took the first few days for me to notice similarities in the stories, to see what Douglas was looking for to aid his diagnosis and to get familiar with our routine. Then I felt I could participate as a team member rather than as an observer. I did the nursery things, urine dipstick tests, blood sugar checks, dressing changes, listening to lungs and taking blood pressures. I was a big curiosity to the kids because blue/green eyes are a rarity in Central America and found them starting intently into my eyes. I'd just smile; sometimes I'd pull out my camera and take their picture. I made the mistake once of blowing up and exam glove into a balloon for an infant who was crying. When every following kid came in and wanted one and realizing that the Comandos didn't have an abundance of supplies, I had to say no.
© El Salvador Health Mission