Letter from Carlos Cardenas Martinez in Nicaragua
April 2006
Dear Friends,
I’d like to express my joy and gratitude for your encouragement, which leads me to acknowledge that anyone can be a modest part of Christian mission and bring hope and life wherever we act as God’s sons and daughters.
My life was changed by the last three years in El Salvador, working with survivors of the 2001 earthquakes in the shelters of Soyapango’s neighborhood through Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA). I began to understand the meaning of being part of God’s mission, which starts with oneself, and with the talents that God gives each of us to bear witness to God’s love and justice. A small contribution becomes greater and greater as we discover the richness of national and global links, the will and desire for sharing our common commitment to continue being faithful to the call, and to act in justice, peace, and wholeness, which is tied to the human commitment to globalize solidarity.
It’s impossible to reflect on the lessons of our experience in El Salvador without the witness and insights of people like Otir Carolina Gamez, a young leader of the community board of trained by PDA to shape the destiny of a new urban community.
Carol spends most of time selling flip-flops and other sandals on the street. The rest of the time she dedicates to community tasks and housekeeping issues. She is the mother of a gracious and smart 6-year-old girl.
Carol used to say, “Life in the ravines [high risk places, from which the poorest families were evacuated after the earthquakes] was grey, dusty, dirty and hopeless. The first time in many years we ever heard the words "esperanza" and "comunidad" was in the dusty hot shelters. Presbyterian missionaries started to gather us into our neighborhood, with only one purpose: from the chaos rebuild hope and to encourage us to live in community. And that dream came true with our untiring work, prayers, and contributions of thousands of Presbyterians from North America.”
Maritza Hernandez and Oscar Aguilar, beneficiaries and members of the board, acted as Carol’s right hand in the daily struggle for the construction of a community identity among nearly 1,800 residents.
During a visit to the Regalo de Dios community last week, I took a walk through the rows of concrete block houses built in perfect lines around the School Center. I’ll tell you, there is no way to pass through this community without making many stops to listen to people eager to talk about the wide diversity of issues.
People want to express gratitude, worries, greetings, complaints, and advice. It’s a kind of informal counseling that PC(USA) mission co-workers Julie and Robert Dunsmore (now serving in Bolivia), Melina Santillana, Daniel García, and I used to do in order to keep an open channel to the neighborhood. We wanted people to talk about their sorrows and joys. People used to invite us to have a cup of dark, smooth, strong Salvadoran “café de alturas,” which I used to say is coffee “to keep a pair of bulls awake.” I mean that it’s good coffee.
Oscar Aguilar, a community elder and member of the local Catholic parish, was sitting in front of his new house enjoying the crowded and riotous passing of children coming back that evening from Regalo de Dios School Center. While he was sipping a cup of coffee, he told me that now he feels that life for hundreds of homes has now returned to a sense of normalcy, including hope and faith in the future.
The smiles of children, the joy and peace in the faces of women and men returning from work, the chance to rest tonight safely and to awake tomorrow, renewed. I see God in these blessings.
On this trip I came to say goodbye to my brothers and sisters of Soyapango and to share with them the dreams and challenges of a new commitment. This January I received a new assignment. Now I am a Presbyterian mission co-worker based in Nicaragua and assigned to CEPAD, the Council of Evangelical Churches of Nicaragua. CEPAD has had a long history of friendship with the PC(USA). They worked together for justice and peace during the civil conflict in Central America, and now CEPAD is involved in development work with 33 rural communities deeply affected by poverty.
In recent years, Nicaraguans have been affected by recurrent disasters. Mudslides, floods, and hurricanes have killed and hurt people, damaged crops, disrupted basic services, devastated infrastructure. The effect on lower-income families has been horrible. One CEPAD’s concerns is that despite all these tragedies there is no recognition of the urgent need to build a culture of prevention and disaster preparedness.
Those are the two areas in which I have come to cooperate with CEPAD: development work and disaster preparedness.
Perhaps this letter has awakened your curiosity about what is going on in Nicaragua. In my next letter I hope to satisfy at least a small part of your curiosity.
God is blessing us every minute, every day.
Carlos Cardenas Martinez
