A first impression rarely matches preconceived ideas. I came to El Salvador with a handful of previous notions about life here. Other than my prediction about the sweltering humidity, which can easily be compared to living in a steam room, I've been wrong about most of my ideas.
My appreciation for the people of El Salvador sparked when my plane landed and the people on our flight, mostly Salvadorans, began clapping excitedly as we reached the ground. These people were clearly proud to be home. In my sheltered American mind I actually sat there in a stupor wondering how these people could be so happy to return to such an impoverished state. Don't they know that they live in a third-world country? I soon realized my thinking was wrong. This green land, covered with coffee plantations, rain forests and volcanoes, is home to them - a place they know, love and live their lives.
One day I visited a local university in San Salvador. I was stunned at many similarities between Salvadoran university students and students at BYU. They were dressed fashionably for school. They walked to class in groups of friends and carried backpacks with textbooks. The buildings on campus were clean and divided into departments, much like any other American university.
This a-ha moment gave me the opportunity to step out of my narrow-minded attitude. I came here assuming the living conditions in El Salvador were sub-standard, and therefore inferior, to my own living conditions. Their poor situation may be upsetting for me to see, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are unhappy.
We're building a modest cinder block home for four homeless women. A brigade of nine volunteers follow directions from Salvadoran masons. They don't speak English and we don't speak Spanish, but there is a universal code of body language we follow on-site that we all understand. The Salvadoran work ethic is impressive. The masons work all day and I have yet to see any of them take a break. Masonry is a highly respected career in El Salvador. They typically earn $6.00 a day.
The poverty here breaks my heart. The streets smell of urine and pollution. Houses are lined with barbed wire to keep criminals out. Starving stray dogs wander streets looking for trash piles to eat from. People are friendly but fear the ?gringos? who visit their city.
In years past, Americans supplied violent tools like land mines and machine guns to El Salvador bringing violence and loss of life to their society. Many Salvadorans seem to harbor resentment about that. A man told me there are 10 army soldiers from Zacatecoluca serving in Iraq, working on the reconstruction of the cities in Iraq. He was wearing a T-shirt with a picture of a Salvadoran soldier from here who died fighting in the war. I couldn't help but shake my head in disappointment.
Zacatecoluca's housing doesn't come close to the worst poverty in the U.S. Why take the 10 most able men from here and send them to Iraq to rebuild cities there? Their hard work and dedication would be much more useful in their own country where they are used to the conditions and can stay near their families. Spending time here has made me extremely aware of my own country and its relations with the rest of the world. It's definitely something to think about.
I came here with a superhero mind-set and two suitcases filled with medical and school supplies, prepared to build houses for the needy, hoping I could consider myself the ultimate humanitarian. But in reality I am just a neighbor to my brothers and sisters, helping them because it is the right thing to do.
Volunteer work cannot be completed with the ulterior motive of selfish validation. We are all living in this world together and our similarities often outweigh our differences. The key to volunteer work is through understanding and celebrating our similarities rather than judging our differences.
Lindsay Cusworth is a junior from Tigard, Ore., majoring in communications. She is doing volunteer work in Zacatecoluca, El Salvador.