I am considered one of the lucky few, that was able to not only survive in the midst of an ongoing war, but more so, I was able to be taken out of a country, where blood shed was becoming out of control and life, as it had been known, was far from gone, and instead, there was a feeling of despair and loss of all hope.
Being born in El Salvador, in the 1970's, pretty much placed anyone in the midst of a nasty, conflicted enviroment, where, the government was trying to contain the pheasants, and the villagers from overthrowing the existing president and get control back of its country.
As I look back into the time of my birth and the time of my adoption, I rarely would have known as a babe, why there was so much fear, of going out onto the streets. I was brought to the state of Virginia by all legal means, and was raised in the U.S. Little did I even know, that during my early years of childhood towards my preteen years, such war was ongoing, in my birth country. I would hear whispers and rumours, of news, that would come from relatives, living in El Salvador, but I was so inclined to deny that I came from such country and I would choose to ignore or accept that no matter what, my roots came from the Mayan Indians, and that indeed, I was conceived and born in El Salvador.
In fact, the way, that I learned all about the war, that was fought was when my family, moved back to El Salvador during the end of 1993. Little did I know, that only a year ago, had a treaty been formally signed and that the country was struggling to come out of its post war depressive state.
I was not attracted to any of this, at the beginning, not until I started attending the Jose Cañas University Of Central America, that this was brought to my full attention, due to the University's own role within this war. And slowly, but surely, I started feeling pulled towards learning, the commence of this war, the ideaology behind it, and the misleading information given to the world, as well as the atrocities committed towards women, children and the ederly. My eyes were opened, and my heart started reeling to find out if somehow my own birth mother or birth father had had anything to do within this war.
After years of denying my heritage and even being ashamed of it, I finally got to a place in which I felt compelled to not just do more research on such sensitive subject, but to find out more in regards to my own birth parents and even if I was ever reported as missing or stolen. Believe me, most of what I read and uncovered, left my mind shaking, and my heart broken, for all those who lost their lives or a loved one. No one can really say, if there were any winners within this war. All that is known, now, is that the country is still struggling to regain its own identity and reconnect with its own beginnings.
I had started writing a book, with fictional characters yet, interwined with real settings, and real events that took place within the war. Throughout this entire blog, I will do my best to post links that have more information available in case, I leave or forget something. Including pictures and images taken from those years.
My primary focus will be in regards to how, this was was started, followed by how the people chose to get involved and the consequences that this brought upon many. I will recount certain events, that I feel are worthy to mention and to bring to light, around the children that were somehow forgotten as innocent victims during the time that this war took place.
Including some stories I was able to pick up from my adopted relatives and people I interviewed, during my years at the university. In the end, I am not sure, if I will ever complete this essay, or not, and if this will truly become a book someday, but I just want to share, what I have learned and hope to reach out to those whom are still lost, and unsure of where they really come from.; to the ones that have looked for years for their lost loved ones, and have not found them yet.
Once I am able to regain internet at my new home, I will be doing most of blogging from there. As a prelude to what is to come I want to share this poem:
The Missing Children
Why is it so quiet at this time of day?
For, the children, are normally running and playing along the side of the roads...
Why are the elders, wandering around, as if in search of something they have lost?
For, the children would keep them company and help them cross the street....
Why are the women wailing and no one comes to comfort them?
For, the children, normally are always near their skirts, clinging to every word they say....
Where have the children gone, where have they been taken to?
Oh, why do you keep on asking, for they are gone, all gone!
How is this so? What about the babes that cling to their mother's chest?
They also have been taken from us. Dead! Dead!
Oh, the pain, oh the misery, for the children are no more, no more....
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