Article from “EDGEWOOD TODAY” SPRING 2000

El Salvador [education & experience ]

By Mitch Klabough

As an incoming transfer student, I was unaware of the Human Issues requirement for all Edgewood College students. It was neither a deterrent nor a reason I chose to attend the college. I found that it is unique to require a student to choose an issue, and to explore the ins and outs of it at length through differing perspectives and disciplines. It follows the Dominican course of learning: study, reflection, and action. And although I had little opinion then, I certainly do now. I learned more about the true concept of Human Issues as a whole through this experience.

In the course of our class, the Dominican values were not overly stressed. We rarely covered a topic and then stopped to reflect on how that topic pertained to the Dominican system of beliefs. On the other hand, if you asked me whether this class and this trip taught me to search more closely for truth and to seek out the just solution, I would not hesitate to tell you yes. If you asked, I would tell you that this experience was the greatest of my life. As a result of my experience in El Salvador, I now yearn to help others as best as I can. Most importantly, I feel the Edgewood College Human Issues requirement has been an essential and irreplaceable piece of my growth as a person.

The moment I decided to enroll in the Human Issues course "El Salvador: The Land and The People," my life was changed.

This particular experience included a class where we not only learned the history of El Salvador, but also took a trip to the country itself - to see it and feel it firsthand. Another classmate, Jessica Jerman, feels this type of hands-on learning to be the most effective. She states that, "Time and time again, I have come to the awareness that experience is the essential key to education. My experience in El Salvador has intensified my support for this claim. No matter how long or how much I would have studied El Salvador in a classroom setting, there is no way I would have gotten the knowledge that I received while actually being there with the people and in the reality of El Salvador."

Once in El Salvador, the roles we occupied would change throughout this experience. For instance, we acted as delegates representing Madison on our visit to Arcatao, Madison's sister city. Later, we represented the United States as national election observers. We also acted as representatives of Edgewood College, Madison, and the U.S. on trips to the universities, churches, and neighborhoods. Finally, we were vacationers as we strolled through small area shops, ate at local restaurants, and swam at Lake Coatepeque. It became necessary for me to avoid a label and remain a student throughout. Though my roles would change, I focused on soaking it all in and sorting it out later.

The bus ride to the capitol of San Salvador was exhilarating. I sat right in front for a better view through the large window. The air was warm, and sweating felt good as the breeze from the small side window pounded my face, cooling me. Throughout my life I have had moments of introspection. While looking off into the horizon with questions in mind, I would wonder, who is out there, and what are they doing at this very moment. Then I would pick a land and a people and put together images using my imagination and what I had seen or heard in the media. But there I was, in the now. I would liken my spirit to that of a child who is seeing something for the first time - something they always thought too amazing to really exist. Maybe it was the first time I saw Santa, or drove my dad's car. Either way, I hadn't felt that tingling in a long time. In my adult life, so many of my experiences have become dulled by my own pessimism. I realize it is hard for an experience to turn out well with that sort of attitude, and slowly it makes your life seem mediocre. I would venture to say this stems from rarely being forced to look at life in the context of a bigger picture. Nonetheless, at that moment the pessimism was gone. I was riding a high, a constant weightlessness. I struggled to see every sign, each person, all the buildings, and each tree; I didn't want to miss a thing.

One of the more inspiring aspects of this trip was our visit to Madison's sister city, Arcatao. Arcatao became a sister city to Madison in 1986 during the height of the El Salvadoran civil war. Representatives of Madison traveled to the rural village to escort displaced members safely back to their homes and their families. As representatives of the country that financially supported the El Salvadoran military, the participants hoped that their presence would discourage any violence toward those being escorted. Finally, Madisonians were present after the relocations to help in organization and training. From the start of the class, we were well aware of this situation, and how the people of Arcatao felt about Madison. They considered us to be friends, although we'd never met. They felt indebted to us. This was a confusing concept; that they feel indebted to a city that, in the larger sense, was a part of the country partially responsible for the war that displaced them. It was clear they knew that government and individual actions are not one in the same.

The often washed-out, winding road to Arcatao was a long one. The trip allowed ample time to talk with new friends, view the countryside, and imagine what Arcatao was like. I wondered how they would really receive us. My questions were soon answered. We entered the town late, and went directly to the church for Ash Wednesday Mass. There were no evil stares, just curious ones. There were no frowns, just smiles. The children were electric, playing and laughing, wanting to hold our hands or sit on our laps. The exception was a little boy who slept at the altar. The elders wanted to shake our hands, say hello, and thank us for coming. We presented them with a skit, a song, a candle and a few thankful, grateful words. With each presentation, the whole congregation became still and quiet.

In the next few days, I had the opportunity to be with them and experience, in small ways, their town and way of life. We swam with them in the Rio Sampul, hiked up the mountainside to see their wartime environment, and played them in a game of soccer. On the last night, we had a fiesta, complete with music, poems, and dancing.

Though the experience in Arcatao meant the most to me, there were other aspects of this journey that enlightened me to the injustice, pain, suffering, and everlasting spirit of the El Salvadoran people. We visited the tombs of the Maryknoll sisters who were murdered on a deserted highway. We attended the popular mass at the National Cathedral, held by recovering drug addicts and former gang members. We toured the Maria de Los Pobres, a parish in a ghetto village in San Salvador. There we saw the extreme poverty and all that goes with it. But we also witnessed the amazing spirit and kindness seemingly unattainable in such conditions. We visited the University of El Salvador and the University of Central America: both institutions full of life, and the spirited struggle for justice and equality through education. Finally, we had the opportunity to listen to personal stories of Archbishop Romero as we sat in the church were he was assassinated. Moreover, through these combined experiences, we were made aware of the many issues El Salvador and other third-world countries are dealing with - issues such as privatization, poverty, illiteracy, unemployment, sweat shops, drug abuse, domestic violence, and questions about land use.

My classmate, Ben Weiderholt, sums up the feelings shared from our experiences studying, reflecting, and acting, "The eleven days that I spent in El Salvador were the most intense eleven days that I have ever had. The Dominican values now have a whole new meaning for me, and I now realize why Human Issues is a requirement for all Edgewood graduates. The trip was a tremendous blessing and I will spend the rest of my life sorting out the implications of what I experienced as I continue to discover what it means to be human."

Mitch Klabough is a senior psychology major from Madison.