Hasta la ultima gota…

Pit, pat.  Drip, drop.  What noise does your rain make?  Does it whisper sweet dreams as you fall asleep to the comforting rhythm?  Does it shout in it’s loudness, in the thunder that accompanies, and keep you awake?  Does it call to you, asking you to come play in the puddles it creates? Does it celebrate with you as it brings refreshment to your most important crops?  Does it make a splash into your open containers to be used throughout the day, en vez de a tiring trip to get water another way?  Does it speak words that break your heart, as it unknowingly but deliberately begins to cover and saturate and rise?  Does it run past you, without saying a word, bent on having it’s way with your home, your family and your friends?

Just like the rest of life, rain seems to be inevitably complicated.  We can’t live without it, but sometimes it’s the death of us. Literally.  The communities where I spend time are particularly vulnerable to threats of landslides as a result of heavy rains.  Yesterday we only visited Las Lajas (El Plan de Cocoa) for a short time…. just long enough to see little David and his mom, who cautioned us about going up to Blanca’s. Even so, we walked all the way to Blanca’s house in the rain…. to sit in a little room with an oven burning newspapers and plastics to keep warm and cook tortillas.  In the afternoon we caught word of a meeting at La Casa de La Mujer in San Ramon. Who knew there would be media galore, the vice president of the republic, and governor of the department of San Salvador?  There is supposed to be a lot more rain today, though so far it’s been fairly light.  With the rain that has already fallen, though, the volcano has been saturated…..so it apparently wouldn’t take a lot more to for danger to become reality.  Whereas it’s common to see water and trash from further up come flowing down the roads, replacing that with huge rocks and trees could be devastating. This isn’t a theory, it is a reality.  A landslide of that nature occurred in 1982, on a Sunday morning, and is estimated to have killed between 500-600 people in a nearby zone.  This isn’t history, it is the present.  The officials present quickly left the casa to request that people, particularly in Las Lajas, evacuate their homes and go to La Casa de La Mujer.

Okay, well, that’s fine right?  They’ll just wait it out in the shelter, getting the basic necessities, and eventually return to their homes and their “normal” lives.  Unfortunately, no.  The thing is, no one wanted to leave their homes.  And no one did.  They were supposed to evacuate Sunday as well, but only a handful of people left then.  This time, it’s even more serious.  In the past the Army has had to force people to leave, but what does that say about the country?  It seems to scream that there is no trust in the government.  Why would people leave their warm beds and store of food and all things familiar to sleep on a cold floor with no food, taking the chance that their homes could be robbed?  Last time there was no food, why would that change now?  Todavía there isn´t money for all this “stuff.”  There isn’t money to construct the safe apartments the government promised months ago.  There isn´t money to take care of the people who hold the economy up with the strength of their backs as that same money pushes back down on them, waiting for them to collapse.  I think a government has a responsibility to protect it’s people, before anything else.  The rain doesn’t listen to our calls for help, but our governments should.  I have some hope that they will help from the action I saw yesterday, but perhaps I am naive.  I will be keeping the communities of Las Lajas, La Valencia, Las Nubes, and other zones affected in my thoughts hasta la ultima gota and beyond…. I hope you can do the same.