Experiencing the sights, sounds and people of Pushtan
This article is written by Ken Bosveld following his 2003 visit to the village in El Salvador where the Carpenteros had helped rebuild homes 18 months earlier.
Absolutely silent, staring intensely and hanging on every word from the translator, four sets of young eyes are transfixed on the six Canadian visitors.
No longer ‘boys’ though not yet teens, these four have shadowed us since our afternoon arrival in the remote community of Pushtan, El Salvador.
They came running at the sound of our van, acting as spotters as Oscar, our driver, zigzagged around boulders and roots. They helped carry our bags, food and sleeping mats to a house specially vacated for our stay. They stared through the window bars as we unpacked, and then showed us the important things, like the way to the main trail and the path that leads to the bano.
This evening the air is still, affording little relief from heat or humidity. By night, haze obstructs the stars. By day, clouds shroud from view the nearby Izalco volcano; a sleeping monster that could awake and attack with barely a rumbling of warning.
Pushtan holds a special place in the heart of our congregation. Eighteen months ago, two work teams of ‘Carpenteros’ from Calvary CRC of Flamborough came to help rebuild homes destroyed by the earthquakes of 2001. Much more than just a few houses, they built relationships. Upon returning to Canada, the group approached CRWRC for ways to further help the people of Pushtan, and those in similar communities. For each of the past three years, the ‘Carpenteros’ have held a Christian sports celebrity dinner and auction to raise funds not only for Pushtan, but in support of 61 ‘community credit unions’ in El Salvador and neighbouring Honduras.
This night, as darkness quickly descends, a number of men and women gather in front of the house where we are staying. Photos from the previous visit are passed around, sparking fond memories and much laughter. Questions and answers begin to flow, all routed through our translator, Milton. And the boys are still perfectly silent and watching, one leaning against a post, the others sitting on wooden stumps. Perhaps they are too polite to impose upon the translator with questions of their own. Or perhaps they know that if they remain silent, mom or dad is less likely to remind them that it’s well past bedtime.
We are asked how the other ‘Carpenteros’ are doing? In turn we want to know if life in Pushtan has changed in any way since the last visit? And we particularly want to hear how the ‘community credit union’ is functioning.
Of the 47 founding credit union members, just four are men – a telling comment on the demographic of Pushtan, where many of the men not killed during the civil war have gone elsewhere to find employment. Maria Santos, a leader in the community, explains that shares in the credit union were originally offered for 30 cents. “Because of our financial situation,” she explains, “we decided we needed to lower the price to 25 cents.”
Given that a river winds its way around this village, and that generous Swiss engineers built an irrigation network a number of years ago, many credit union members use their loan to purchase seeds enabling them to grow and sell vegetables. A group of ladies are forming a cooperative to make and sell crafts, while a handful of men make wooden furniture.
Housing and health care continue to be the most urgent needs. But, ever so slowly, life is getting better.
Rising to stretch my legs, I wander over to the fringe where the boys are still listening. One by one they respond to my winks and smiles. Jose, who seems to wear a constant smile, suddenly gestures that he will be right back, and then disappears into the darkness.
Two or three minutes later he returns, clutching two small sticks held together with what looks like thin strips of medical tape. Jose holds this cherished, homemade cross in front of his heart. He still hasn’t uttered a single word, yet he has perhaps made the most powerful statement of anyone there that evening. Amid crumbling mud-brick homes in Pushtan, where the past has been painful and the future holds more than its share of uncertainty, hope remains alive because Jesus Christ is Lord and Saviour. They may not possess very much, but they clearly have something far more valuable.
