5 December 2009

A few weeks ago, we went for a hike up a mountain that overlooks Estancia, called El Cerro Pelon. We started early in the morning, with a large group that included Rebecca and Neal, the other volunteer couple, Miguel, in charge of all of the maintenance of the clinic, Juan Carlos, the recent graduate of medical school, and Cesar and Javier, two early adolescent boys who live in Estancia. After a breakfast of plantains, tortillas, and cuajada, a soft cheese, we headed to the bottom of the mountain. After a forty-five minute walk, we began the ascent.

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The mountains around Estancia are of particular historic importance. Many people say that the civil war, which lasted from the late 1970´s until 1992, was fought mostly here. Every family was affected. Some families left under the cover of night to cross the border into Honduras, where they stayed in refugee camps until the end of the 1980´s. Others stayed, but were forced to flee into the hills almost nightly, as bombs dropped from airplanes onto houses and schools. These families took cover in the numerous caves that cut into the mountains. Still others joined the resistance army, and fought against the United States’ trained and funded Salvadorian army.

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The top of the mountain is flat like a table, and, once there, we sat and enjoyed oranges, chocolate, and sweet breads with pink frosting on top called novias. We watched the birds fly below us, and chatted about how small the River Torola looked from so far away.

We descended the mountain around noon, and shortly thereafter the sky broke open and rain poured down. The road back to our house turned to slushy mud, and in parts was covered by water that rose up over our ankles. However, we made it home and dried off. The difficulty of the climb in daylight left me both in awe of and horrified by what the people of Estancia have suffered. They have lived through things that I cannot imagine in nightmares.

--Calla