las madres

it has been an intense couple of days.

we took a long hot bus ride from leon to esteli. it was an old american schoolbus (remember the bluebirds?) and chris and i squeezed our bums into a seat made for children. i slurped a fried banana out of the bottom of a plastic bag and chris slept on my shoulder.

there is a saying in nicaragua that if someone smells on a bus, it is probably the cheles (white people). i think that we proved them right.

in esteli we visited las madres, a group of women who lost their sons and daughters in the revolution. they created the ´gallery of the heroes and martyrs of the revolution´ so that their children will be remembered. so that their stories will be told.

the first time that i met las madres i was 19 years old. it was my first time visiting a country where the scars of war were still so raw, and i had no concept of grief on such a grand scale. the mothers told us about their individual stories of loss, and then they spoke of the pain of a town devestated by war. of a community that had lost its young men, and many of its young women. of a people steeped in grief. they spoke of children leaving for war and not returning. of torture and brutality that they had witnessed, and of bodies that were never found.

and once they were done telling their stories, they comforted us as only mothers can. they wiped away the tears of the strangers from another country who had never experienced war. they held us as we cried for their loss.

even though i have been back to nicaragua several times since that first visit, this is the first time that i have returned to visit las madres. chris brought his camera, and the mothers sat for interviews. they took chris around their gallery and showed him the photos of their sons and their daughters. they thanked us for being there, and for allowing their voices to be heard. they asked us to tell their story and the story of the revolution to our friends and family back home.

there is no government support for their museum, and they getting older every day. they are so afraid that when they die this history will be forgotten.

after the interviews chris and i walked for miles together. we wandered aimlessly around town, trying to digest what we had heard. we have both experienced the grief and pain of loss within our own families. how can we even understand loss on such a grand scale? and if we can personalize the loss of this group of 1500 or so women in esteli, nicaragua...how can we maintain distance from the loss of the mothers in afghanastan, of the mothers in iraq, of the mothers in sudan? how does all of the grief and the loss not eat us alive?

i cried like a baby before i went to sleep last night. chris held me and comforted me.

nicaragua, nicaraguita. this country always brings me so much joy, so much hope, and so much happiness. but it also challenges me in a million different ways.

the acupuncture brigade arrives tomorrow night. i am looking forward to starting a new chapter of this trip, and to introducing three amazing women to this beautiful country that i love so dearly. i am filled with hope.

abrazos,
jania