By Chava Redonnet
On Wednesday, April 6, a mixed group of people sat in a circle, upstairs on a terrace of the “popular market” - el mercado popular, what we in the States might call a public market - in Santa Ana, El Salvador. Twenty-five or so red plastic chairs held Salvadorans as well as we visitors from around the United States, all here at the behest of Alex Orantes, Baptist pastor, organizer, director of the popular market, and friend to us all.
One by one, Alex introduced people to us: the man in the pink shirt, who would succeed him as director, as Alex was about to promoted to greater responsibility; a woman who spoke words of welcome; another woman whose birthday it was, and we all sang. I looked around the crowd, thinking of what we’d heard prior to the meeting, that at least one of the men here had been a torturer during the war [“the man with the scar” – but there were several men with scars], that others were members of gangs. Police officers, looking formidable, stood in a wide circle at the perimeter of our group. Alex introduced us all to each other as “good people,” as “my brothers and sisters.”
No one’s past behavior or current choices were on the table for judgment or accountability. All that was of interest was, what might we do together to make things better? All these good people, these people who are so much more than the worst thing they’ve ever done - how might we together make a better world, a better city, a better market?
Everybody knows Alex, and everybody knows he believes in them. Children, youths, tired families, police officers, gang members, visitors from the States – we’re all “good people” and potential partners in the work of healing this place, this world. Like the others in the room, I’m here because Alex asked me. Five years ago on my first visit to El Salvador, he asked me to come back. This past December on my fifth trip here, he asked me to come back in April for this study trip. Always, when Alex asks me to do something, my first response is, “it’s not possible.” Then I go away and think about it, and wonder if perhaps it might be possible, after all. Then I do it. I’ll bet that’s a pattern for lots of people, with Alex. He asks for impossible things that turn out to be possible, once we start dreaming.
After all the introductions, we are taken on a tour of the market. Twenty or so Salvadorans, including five police officers, accompany us seven North Americans as we talk to people in our broken Spanish, explore unfamiliar fruits, and each get our own coconut, with a straw to drink the slightly sour but refreshing juice. As our tour draws to a close, we are suddenly hurried away, as there has been an incident somewhere in the market.
Before I came on this trip, I prayed that I might be shown the ways that I need to grow. That prayer was answered with a resounding “Yes!” as I came flat up against some prejudices that I didn’t know I had. It would not have occurred to me that a former torturer could be an ally in the work of healing Santa Ana. Alex stretched my world with his embrace of every person as a friend and brother or sister. My companions on this journey stretched me, too. One of the great gifts of this trip was the mix of people: two American Baptists, two radical Catholics, and two Evagelical young men. I was forced to confront my prejudice about Evangelicals as being rigid in their spirituality and having a narrow theology – that prejudice got smashed to smithereens by these two, so eager to explore all the riches of Christian spiritual traditions. It gives me great hope for the church – for all the God-lovers together. May we break down the walls and find friends on the other side.
Don’t ever give up on anybody. I want to be like Alex – ready always to see “good people” and “my brothers and sisters” in every person – ready to work together to heal the world.
Chava Redonnet
May 14, 2011
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