Take Me Into One's Heart, Take Me Out Of My Mind: Finding God in All Places

As I was lying in my bed, drenched in sweat with the fan on its highest speed, I breathed in deeply, put my headphones in and slowly breathed out. I needed to debrief and really give myself some time to take in the last 2 weeks or so. So I did just that.

As I unlocked my iPod and pressed shuffle, the sound of the acoustic guitar, slow and beautiful, flowed and rested in my inner ears and I felt for a moment at peace. The song I was listening to was “Take Me Out of the City” by the band Dawes.

As I unwound my anxious and tired body I listened closely to the words and my feelings of perfect numbness and non-thought ended as I started to think about my time here in light of the lyrics. With that said allow me to share with you some of the last 2 weeks through the context of these few lyrics.

“Take me out of the city, where my shadow can roam”

Sunday February 5^th the Casa program went to the beach. I along with all my other classmates and newfound friends jumped into two microbuses and drove an hour and a half or so down to Costa de Sol.

The bus ride was filled with joyful anxiousness. We were all excited to get out of the city for a few hours and hit the beach. Some were excited to swim in the Pacific for the first time (myself) others hoped for time to catch up on some reading, and others just wanted to bake (and burn) under the radiating Salvadoran sun.

For me it wasn’t just any trip to the beach. I always enjoy a good beach day but this day held more weight than simply a day to laugh and lounge.

After three weeks of orientation, nonstop movement, the start of classes, the smog of the city and the loudness of my everyday life here thus far, I needed much more than some rest and relaxation. I needed a day to really stretch my wings a bit, and rest not only my body and mind, but my spirit as well. And Costa de Sol offered the perfect opportunity to do so.

When we arrived the pool area, the white sand beach, and the deep blue ocean seemed idyllic. We were warned of the strong riptides and I tried my best to avoid them, but did at one point get caught and my boy Quentin grabbed my hand and pulled me to shore. Other than that small scare I was in heaven.

There’s something about digging your feet into the shore’s wet sand, there’s something about the back and forth motion of the waves, and something about wrestling with your friends in the shallows that always invigorates my spirit.

The sky was blue and the water warm (and a bit salty) and my smile had never so real. Pure relief. We had lunch and I went to lounge in the pool a bit. I had mango on a stick (it was in the shape of a rose) and a hammock to lie in. I thought to myself “what more do I need?” As I was finishing my mango I looked up and saw two children on the beach, each leading a horse by a string and talking to one of my friends. My curious nature got me out of my shade covered hammock and onto the hot sands. I walked over and discovered that I could go horseback riding… on the beach… for $2.00.

I couldn’t believe it, and jumped at the opportunity to do this. I said to myself “I’m riding a horse, on the beach, in El Salvador. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say this again.” I mean the little girl, who led the horse to the beach, was still leading it, and I couldn’t have been going faster than 3 or 4 miles an hour, but it was still just what I needed. My mind, body spirit and shadow all got to roam.

“Let me breathe in the morning. Let my way be my home.”

This past weekend was drastically different for the one just 1 week prior. It was Praxis weekend. I would spend 3 days and 2 nights at my praxis site location with the people of El Pueblo de Dios en Camino.

I was definitely excited but part of me (actually most of me) was scared out of my mind for the weekend ahead of me.

Friday afternoon, around 4:30, I got in the microbus and was driven to San Ramon to start my Praxis weekend. Because of the duality of my site we were splitting the weekend between to locations. The first day I would stay with my Praxis partners in Anita’s house. Anita is this sweet insightful woman who helps run the Christian base community in San Ramon. After one night with Anita we would split up and spend a night in Las Nubes, the volcano above San Ramon. I would be staying with a woman named Victoria.

In Anita’s home I was very comfortable. We spent the late afternoon and early evening conversing over pan dulce and queso fresco. She spoke about the history of El Pueblo and the importance of remembering the martyrs, all of the martyrs. In her voice we heard the pain and the hope, and the sadness and the joy all at once. She was a strong woman who had survived the war and considered herself blessed to have known and worked besides some of the Salvadoran Civil War martyrs.

For dinner we had pupusas that Gustavo, another member of the Christian base community, had picked up for us. They were the best pupusas I had had since arriving in El Salvador. I had ayote and revueltas. If you’re ever in the San Ramon area, go to Anita’s house and ask Gustavo where to get pupusas. Dude knows where it’s at.

We slept that night and the room I slept in had a fan and was much like my room at the Casa. I slept fine and awoke to the smell of breakfast. We ate and at 9 o’clock Victoria arrived to walk with me to her home on the volcano.

Victoria is a short woman, who has two children and lives with her parents Nina Tancho and Jorge in there humble dirt floor home on the side of the volcano. I met her on my first trip up to Las Nubes and had heard from some friends that she was “muy carinoso” or very caring and loving. I felt safe and secure with her from the moment she took one of the water jugs out of my hands and insisted on carrying it herself.

We got to her house and her children were waiting for me. Victoria junior and Marvin were sitting at a table with their cousin Jorge. I walked in and sat down across from them. There was about 2 minutes of awkward silence which dragged on forever. I broke the silence by going to my “go-to” Spanish phrase… “Quieres Jugar?” Want to play?

Needless to say that broke the ice and I’m pretty sure we played every game that didn’t require a board or game system. Hide and seek, tag (mika), tree climbing, monkey in the middle and even a game that involved me (pretending to be a dragon) chasing after the three children who were pretending to me monkeys in a coffee bean farm.

We affectionately call the game “monos y dragones.” The conclusion of this game involved me pretending to eat them alive and them playing dead until the other 2 monkeys were eaten. They wouldn’t stop running until I pretended to breathe fire on them and rub my belly indicating I was full. A gruesome game, I know.

Nevertheless we spent most of the day playing and running through the finca (farm). It was easy to play. You don’t need a mastery of the Spanish language for that. You don’t even need words. All I needed was my legs and a dragon’s roar. It was a blessing.

Toñito the magic dragon

After that Victoria made lunch and then dinner for me. I couldn’t help but feel bad that she wouldn’t let me help with the preparation of the dinner. I also felt bad that my plate always had more food on it than theirs did, I offered to split some with the kids but nobody would allow me to. I was their guest and they were treating me as such. I still felt weird being served, and I felt useless. I couldn’t do anything for them other than just be myself.

When I say I felt useless, it certainly isn’t a good feeling but it was a little liberating realizing this. I didn’t have to “try” so hard to enjoy their company. I understood that no matter how much I offered to help they wouldn’t let me, and didn’t really need it. This selflessness seems to be the Salvadoran way, at least with the people I have encountered thus far.

The sun set and I found myself in complete and utter darkness until my eyes adjusted and the stars illuminated the sky. I sat and spoke with the elder members of the family, about my family, about theirs, simple conversations but I’m pretty fearless with my Spanish and use my hands, facial expressions and noises to get my point across. They found it funny.

I suddenly became very tired and asked them if I could sleep. They seemed surprised but obliged nonetheless. I entered the house and there was a candle in the main room barely illuminating the dirt floors and metal roofing. They led me to a room that was adjacent to the main sitting area. They opened the cardboard like door and I saw… nothing. It was dark as night and I felt fear come over me. I put my hands in front of me and felt the mosquito net and got inside and rested my head a bit.

I didn’t change my jeans because I was afraid of bugs crawling on my legs so I tucked the denim legs into my shoes and my shirt into my boxers and tried my hardest to fall asleep. As I was falling asleep I took a look at my phone. I realized then why they were surprised that I wanted to sleep. It was 7:15pm. I felt like an idiot. But I knew they understood and I felt good to hear them talk about me and say how sweet I was. They called me “Toñito.”

The next morning I woke up early and they had breakfast waiting for me. Victoria truly was lovely to me. She had asked what I liked to eat and made tomales for me that morning. As I ate she picked the leaf particles out of my hair and proceeded to ponytail what she could. They all had a good laugh from that. 

Victoria and I

She gave me a bucket of water and a seat and told me to go shower in the back. I didn’t know how to respond but I figured that I would just do as I was told. I didn’t want to take a full shower so I just washed my hair and changed my clothes, but at that moment as I was standing in a coffee finca, the sun warm and the wind blowing through my dripping hair, I felt alive. I just stood there and took in the beauty. The physical beauty of my environment and the beauty of the weekend, the people and the time spent in Las Nubes.

I know it’s a lot to take in, in one post but I still feel that my words can’t adequately do my experience justice. This past weekend was beautiful, difficult, fun, scary, sad and happy. But to simply type that doesn’t seem adequate. I could only ever give you part of my time here, never all of it. It makes me somewhat sad that I can’t but I think that’s the nature of blogs and the blogging experience. So I’m trying to be “okay” with it. 

My weeks here continue to surprise me and invigorate me in ways I never see coming. So as I am in the midst of this week and look ahead to the next, I will keep my optimism about me and allow myself to be taken by this beautiful country full of amazing truths and difficult realities. And I lie in my bed thinking about all I’ve been through I am blessed to have come this far and am humbled to know I have 3 more months ahead.

Until next time,

Much love always,

Ant