Civil war in El Salvador fuels love of country

One Salvadoran girl’s story of growing up in 1980s

Abstract: I was born and raised in El Salvador during a Civil War which ended with the signing of a peace treaty when I was ten years old. The historical events that I witnessed have molded me into the person I am now: a fervent patriot, a believer in dialogue, and a lover of politics and development.

I was born in 1982 in San Salvador, El Salvador to a patriotic family who decided to stay in the country despite the hardships brought about by the Civil War that began two years before my birth. When the war started, my father was a member and one of the founders of the country’s only development think tank at the time. He would later be appointed President of the Central Bank becoming directly involved in the government that was struggling to end the war. My mother, with her heart-felt patriotism, supported his excessive work hours. She, also, would later work for the government.

Many of my kindergarten friends and their families fled elsewhere, to countries where dinner conversations were about class field trips office meetings, and soccer games, rather than about emergency kits, bullet shell collections, and political decisions. We stayed.

Lago Coatepeque, my  father's favorite
weekend spot.
Guanacos Online

My parents valued the country in which they were born and raised and in which they had developed endless memories with family and friends. They appreciated the majestic volcanoes and the luxury of having the beach only minutes away from the city. They cherished the characteristic hard-working nature of most Salvadoran and their light-hearted way of celebrating the joys of life. My parents wanted to stay. They were unwilling to give up their right to live in the country they loved. In that context, my brother and I were raised by two role models who continuously elucidated all the wonders that our country had. Thus, from early on, we both learned to sing the national anthem loud and wave our the blue and white flag with pride.

 Izalco Volcano, nicknamed "Lighthouse of the Pacific",
is one of my mother's favorite scenic views.
Efegé

Growing Pains, Lessons Learned

I was born in a war-torn and chaotic city. However, I was blessed to be born to a family with enough resources to live in one of the safer areas of town. My parents were able to give me the best protection considering the circumstances, to provide me with a good education, and to shelter me from much of the horrifying realities occurring in the country. Nevertheless, as hard as they tried, they were unable to shelter me from it all. All around us, conversations were dominated by politics and everyone was more interested in learning the day’s death counts than finding out the weather outside. Television channels were scarce and mostly occupied with crude and blunt news reports. As a child, I saw what war did to a society and I understood how violent humans can be. I also acquired an understanding, far more developed than would be expected of a child, of the role our violent nature can plays in politics. Today every time I confront a decision, consciously or not, I factor this awareness in.

As children, my generation witness stark violence, but also patriotism, sacrifice, and solidarity. As bullets were flying from one side of the city to the other, common, yet bold, citizens were helping the injured and providing hideouts for those in danger. Firm believers of either extreme of the political spectrum were risking their lives in order to defend their values. People were exposing themselves to the enemy in order to advocate for the system in which they believed. As a child, I witnessed how brave people can be. I know that when it comes to their country, their compatriots and their city, people are able to find courage to respond. Today, I keep that in mind as I try to build up courage myself and find ways to help.

The January after I turned nine (1992), I laid in my couch watching how government leaders and guerrilla commanders sat on either extreme of a table and signed a piece of paper in which they both committed to peace. At the end of the ceremony, people on both sides stood up and shook hands. At that point, they were no longer leaders or commanders. They no longer belonged to the government or to the guerrilla groups. That day, they were all Salvadorans. They had reached an agreement, decided to put the war in the past, and work together for the sake of their country. Today, there is still much political and social polarization in the country and, there have been times when it seemed that war might erupt yet again. However, when I witness people differ, in politics or in my personal life, I’m able to remember that dialogue is possible, and more importantly, that it is preferred. I intensely dislike conflict and am always seeking the way to reach an agreement through amiable conversation.

A Child of the War, who became an Adult of Peace

Having been born and raised during a civil conflict marked me significantly and has shaped me into who I am now. I wouldn’t say I was severely traumatized by my childhood environment, but it certainly influenced my interests, my values, and my decisions. The lessons I learned as a result of living through a war guide my daily actions.

My car and my blue and white flag.

Thinking back through the past month, I can identify situations, albeit small, in which those lessons learned have been my guide. Last week, the first of September, I purchased the Salvadoran blue and white flag and proudly attached it to my car window. Independence Day takes place on the September 15th, but my patriotism induces me to celebrate the entire month. The following Monday, I accepted that I can’t always trust my fellow citizens and decided to go home before sundown. The government had just passed a law to penalize gang involvement more severely. I knew, from my childhood days, that when it comes to defending their territory, values, and way of life, humans can be violent.

Furthermore, about a month ago, I heard the President of El Salvador deliver a speech* replete with polarizing messages, alluding unjust gaps in wealth. I was peeved at his divisive intentions and, seeking to vent my distaste, I wrote him a letter*. I did not intend to publish it because it had a few strong points that could be considered offensive. That was until I thought about how necessary it was to defend ones values for the sake of the country and bravely sent it out to get posted. Finally, on a different day this month, I had a strong disagreement with my coworker that impeded the completion of the project and that developed into resentment. Even though I still did not agree with her and was still upset, remembering lessons from the past, I decided to put my pride aside. Hoping to find some consensus, I invited her to a civil discussion of the issue. Every day, whether I’m aware of it or not, my behaviors and reactions are shaped by the way I grew up.

I’m good with numbers; perhaps I would have pursued a career in finance or accounting. However, my surroundings growing up, the fact that my father was involved in politics, and the loud noises that made it hard to fall asleep during so many nights, have infused in me a love for politics, development, and communications as a means to make a difference in the former two. I currently belong to a political organization, CREO*, that seeks to involve youth in national issues and I’m part of a committee that aims to promote corporate social responsibility. At the same time, I’m polishing my communication skills through formal education and practice.

Considering the extent of globalization and professional mobility in the world today, had I been raised in a different environment, I would probably be living and working somewhere geographically distant from home. However, the events and the lessons of my past impelled me to return to live and work in El Salvador after I finished my undergraduate studies in the United States. Living through the war, gave me a sense of patriotism that pulls me back home. Whatever I choose to do next and wherever I opt to go, I’m sure the love I have for my country will always affect my decisions, in the same way that my parent’s decision to stay in El Salvador during the war was affected by their patriotism.

* Source available in Spanish only