De maravilla

I just spent a few hours in the museum with a guy (a kid? he's my age, so more or less) who tried to kill himself the weekend before I came to Suchi. I don't even know him that well, since he's kind of quiet and I'm kind of awkward, but I was realizing this morning that he would be only a story in my life if he'd been successful. I am so, so grateful that he is here.* (The word "here" - specifically in the sense of "I am glad that you are/I am/she or he is here" - is coming to have so many meanings for me. Here in this town or municipality of Suchitoto or in El Salvador or in the world or, more philosophically, existing in the same time and place as I/you do. Hard to describe, but I am glad that he's here, present in every aspect of "here.")

There is a woman named Yanira who lives on the street in town. Generally she sleeps in front of the police station, because some people harass her a lot. I think she comes in and out of her direct relationship with this reality. This, mixed with Spanish, makes it sometimes really hard to carry on a conversation with her. Sometimes she gets really angry, and sometimes she is just happy as a clam. Today, yesterday, and the day before, I saw her at least once per day and every time she was in a good place. I am so glad that she seems, at least in this moment, to be doing well. She is so wonderful. It doesn't matter that she always asks where I've been - usually leading with some version of "it's been a long time since you've been in Suchi, hasn't it?" even though I generally have been around. Yesterday I saw her with two bags of groceries and other general needs. And a huge smile on her face.

We had a big concert last night of Christmas music. The harps played - or rather, the harp students played their harpsicles. (Sorry, I just can't help but use "harpsicle" whenever possible.) Ariel's kids choir sang a few songs, including a couple with the harps(icles). A couple of kids from Alex's poetry and rap class read their own poems. The adult choir sang Dona Nobis Pacem and Capilla Celestial (Angels We Have Heard on High). And then we all came together with Paul's guitar class and performed Somos El Mundo (We Are the World).

We were not always (ever?) fully in key, but my God did we do a beautiful thing in that chapel. To see Alex (my neighbor) and Angel, both of whom come and skate every day, come in their dress shirts, looking kind of awkward, because they're 15 and 17 (respectively) and suddenly dressed up; to hear Alex read his poem about nature; to get bumped into by Luis Felipe, who has the most physical, bouncy interpretation of the "Gloria" ever -- these were extraordinary, but also such ordinary experiences. So wonderful.

After the concert, Ariel and I were sitting together just watching people eat sandwiches and drink hot chocolate. Angel sat with us and asked, "¿Cómo están? ¿De maravilla?" - How are you? (And the only way I can think of translating 'de maravilla' is the lame and clunky "marveling".) But yes, we were indeed marveling at what had just taken place. Marvel seems the perfect partner for the anticipation of Advent.

This morning Suchi held the pre-inauguration for the newly-founded farmers market. Now, being from Minneapolis, I was proud of how normal it was to stand at 'my' farmers market and watch my mayor talk about the city being committed to finding a permanent location for the market. (Turns out this is an international problem. :) But even more so, I was thrilled to see the vendors, the buyers, the produce (all of which was from the municipality), the artisan foods produced with other local stuff, and the Centro Arte youth drum corps, a couple of whom had sung in the concert just 12 hours before.

Marvel. And anticipation. We await the market's growth into something more permanent and secure. We anticipate concerts to come, in which at least half will sing on pitch(!) at least half the time. And I marvel at the smiles of two wonderful people whom I would not have known if circumstances had not proceeded as, thanks be to God, they did.