Perspectives

It’s the rainy season here in El Salvador. It’s hot and wet nearly all the time. The sun beats down fiercely and with merciless intentions on my pale skin. It would be an understatement at the least to say that I have a farmer’s tan; the contrast is quite glaring but thankfully a facsimile, if not an exaggerated one, of all those around me in the fields as well. The fields where I have been working for the past couple weeks, from above, might look much like a golden pool surrounded by lush, greens and dark hues of red; it might even seem picturesque from up there, and quite unlike many things I have experienced in my life it really is picturesque from the ground, in it, laboring and sweating in the sun-touched grasses. You start to feel like you’re part of the land, and the land, quite literally, becoming part of you.

The men I work with on the farm might be accused of being, or at least trying to be a rough bunch, but their inner kindness penetrates their callused hands and rusk appearance. As one would think, after years of laborious toiling in all the worst conditions, they form a very tight group. They constantly make jokes that I both often don’t understand and am the object of, but, in their defense, my inexperience does serve a lavish dish of comic morsels which they don’t hesitate to chew on.

Today in particular was especially fated with misfortune being as we were harvesting rice by hand which is common here and often very hot and tiresome work of which this day was no exception. But however many times one might wish for cloud or two to cover the blistering sun, no one expected such a speedy and exuberant response. No matter how hot it gets or how much sweat you lose (which could be measured by the cup) no one wishes for rain. But what we got wasn’t rain, no, it was more like what was left over from Poseidon’s rage with Odicious. For those of you who don’t have any experience with the art of harvesting rice it is quite simple, you cut the stocks with a large curved knife called a cuma. Following this you bash the rice like a snake by the tail on a wooden table. Usually this is quite a simple, though, very intensive, if not, exasperating process. The rain, though, frustrates the ordeal with no respect to its present difficulty, but rather making every repetition this physical mantra of rhythmic smacking even more tedious than you thought was possible; except, of course, the incredible heat which is quickly diminished and then demolished into out right cold chills. Not only this, but it affects the usual objectivity of the grains of rice in such a way that they too feel that clinging together is the only way to escape the lack of warmth.

All of this is how I came to find myself under an old, musty tarp with a bunch of El Salvadorian farmers of whom I was presently getting to know their smell much better than I knew their life history. That’s when I wondered, what on earth would I rather do than be with these guys. There must be farmers just like these on just about every continent in the world, but I am here with these ones. I am living and breathing and sharing in these men’s lives and work. What could be more fulfilling or gratifying than to realize that where ever I go in this world I can find men just like these; hard-working, honest, and sincere, or at least sincerely crazy sometimes. To have such a bond with these people here is just incredible to me. I think it shows me why Jesus spent so much of His time with the common, or rather the truly inspirational people. He understood their struggles so well, comprehended their depth where others saw only shallow minds, understood their pain where others only saw weakness, and appreciated their gifts where others only saw poverty. He gave to them dearly of Himself in life and death. He said, that what you do for the weakest and the poorest and the most humbled you did it unto Him. Think about it; you did it for Him; to Him. Don’t waste time in religious fidgeting and sophistry; don’t talk about doing good, do it. It is the currency of heaven and we can begin making an investment today.