El Salvador: Migration Conference and Adventure

Katie D.

July 7, 2011 - 2:36 PM

I have spent the past three days taking part in a tri-national conference on regional migration. I went as the "official representative" of the organization I work with here in Honduras. Official only in that I was the one person not 100% busy in getting ready for another conference that will take place later this week. But whatever the details, I had the fabulous opportunity of attending this conference, meeting people from Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador, and learning from them about immigration as it occurs between Central American countries.

It was a great learning experience, and a great adventure.

Let me say first that I was poorly prepared. I am not qualified to be the official representative of anything in this part of the world. I am learning. People are very forgiving, but I still felt kind of silly as I left my house at 5:00 in the morning to get on a bus and attend a conference. Imagine how much sillier I felt when we finally arrived at the conference on Monday night, and I discovered that not all of El Salvador was hot. And some of it was covered in beautiful, hikable mountains. I spent the three days borrowing shoes and clothes, and stumbling over Spanish and still-not-fully-formed ideas. So I was clumsy. But it was also an amazing few days.

The best thing about the conference was the diversity of voices present. All three countries were represented by members of the government, civil society, and academia. The purpose was to discuss a report in progress, which explored Central American migrants living in El Salvador, Guatemala, and Costa Rica. The purpose was to examine the state of these migrants' lives and decisions to migrate, and to work to better protect these individuals. As was said at the beginning of the program, it was easy to see how migrants were suffering in the United States, but much less common to turn the magnifying glass on Central American countries.

So that's what they did.

Some migrants end up in countries like Guatemala because they set out for the United States, and for whatever reasons don't complete the journey. But I also learned that many migrants come to other countries in the hope of simply starting over. They don't expect sweeping changes, and they don't imagine the context to be greatly more favorable than at home. But they hope that a move will allow them and their families to be safer, or more financially stable. Sometimes this is true. But often, they are victim to labor violations, social isolation, and poverty.

In groups, we discussed what could be done to change these situations. We discussed the borderlands, where populations often mix in a combination of citizen, documented foreign worker, and undocumented migrant. We discussed passport law and labor inspections, and returned again and again to the theme of political will and social support. When I use the word "we" to describe these discussions, what I mean is that I listened as the others talked, and tried to imagine some way of fitting myself into the story, and somehow intervening to be of help.

What I am coming to see more and more is that this is a region of immigrants. In the face of economic and social immobility, people mobilize. This plays out differently in different places, but what this often means is that individuals and families choose to move: to seek a better future through hard work and taking action. Migration is not a political topic here. In fact, the politicians are mostly silent about the phenomenon. Instead, migration is an intimate and shifting reality of life. And here, like in the US, there is an enormous need to respond with reasoned thought and compassion. I was truly inspired by the people I met and the work they are doing.

But, the conference wasn't all work. We were staying in a beautiful retreat center outside of Juayua, El Salvador, set on a coffee plantation in the mountains. After a week in Tegucigalpa, hemmed in by buildings and crowded streets, it was amazing to be out in all that beautiful SPACE. I woke up early both mornings to walk by myself: I explored and hiked and wandered. On Tuesday during lunch time, six of us participated in a high ropes course, including tightrope walking and a zip line. It was awesome. Wednesday morning was a hike to a beautiful lake that was not the promised quick trip over a flat road, but rather a scramble and slide up and down two mountains, before arriving at the beautiful (but shockingly tiny) lagoon.

It kept slipping my mind that this was how I was celebrating the 4th of July. But I think it all came out about right. I hiked, sat at a camp fire, stayed in a lodge with Native American décor (strange in this context), and worked on political change. I'm back in Tegucigalpa now, with blistered feet and a sun burn, and a lot of new motivation. Refreshed by some time outside of the city, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

Whatever's coming, I'm looking forward to it.