Bleach

I will not get into the midst of a conflict over what exactly the resident of the White House said about bleach and COVID-19. I do not have the time or the energy or the desire to get into a senseless debate over what he said, what he meant to say, or some other debate by non-medical personnel over ways to prevent the spread of the virus or to help people recuperate from this deadly disease.

But I want to share when a few thoughts about a time I drank water with bleach.

Haciendita II, 2019

In 1992, I spent about seven months in El Salvador, mostly in the parish of Suchitoto where I helped the Salvadoran pastor and the five US women religious working there. I was assigned to one of the remotest areas of the parish, about a four hour walk from the town of Suchitoto. I spent most of my time there in the house of Esteban and Rosa Elbia and their children, usually spending four or more days sleeping there, while going out several days to other nearby communities. I slept in a hammock so that I wouldn’t take someone’s bed. I brought some food stuffs with me when I came and I ate tortillas and salty beans several times a day.

Esteban Clavel and Rosa Elbia

Every morning I heard Esteban calling his daughters to get up and go for water – about 30 to 45 minutes away. The sons also got up to begin to prepare for working in the fields or in other projects.

But every day water had to be brought in for basic needs.

I had a water bottle with a filter and so I avoided most intestinal parasites. I thought it was because of the filter but there was another factor.

The water always tasted a little funny. Only later did I realize that the family was putting a little bleach in the water to purify it. It seemed to work, though I would not recommend it now.

While I was there the community began working on a project to bring water in from the mountain. The men went up in groups to dig the trenches for the pipes. I joined them a few days for the hard work under the hot sun.  

Digging trneches for the water line, on Guazapa, 1992

Before I left the project was finished and there was a spigot with water in the middle of the community. I remember walking down the road and seeing a line of women with their water jugs lined up to get the precious water.

Last year I visited my friends. Esteban had died a few years before, a victim of chagas, a disease that comes from insects that burrow in dirt floors and dirt walls. But I saw Rosa Elbia and several of her children and grandchildren. It was a real joy to be with them. I had hoped to get back to see them this year, but we’ll see.

When I stopped in the house where I had stayed – now much nicer, one of the daughters offered me a glass of water. They have a new water project and the water is drinkable. No more bleach. They don’t even have to boil it, since they have a good source of water and a good chlorinating system for the village. No more 5 am calls to go out to fetch water. No more putting bleach in the water. Turn on the spigot and drink.

It should be clear that this is the way to deal with a real human need – long term solutions, communities working together to guarantee the community’s health, working with professionals in science and water supply.

It should be clear that I am not advocating using bleach, but when people are desperate and look for ways to survive, they look for simple solutions. Looking for short cuts can be dangerous. In addition, short cuts let us avoid asking the really important questions.

For the people of Haciendita II, the issue is community solidarity. What we all need these days.

We also need to remember that after this pandemic subsides, what we need to do is to build a world where people have decent water, decent health care, and decent education and where people begin to work together for the good of all, especially the most vulnerable and marginalized. That will mean that we begin to put the person, made in God’s image, at the center of our lives.

Celebrating Sister Water

May 30 is Arbor Day here in Honduras and many schools have their students plant trees. But today I went to the community of San Isidro La Cueva to bless their water source and to pray with them.

Some people had come to plant trees. Other came to help do some cleaning out the forest around the water source. But our reason for gathering was to bless the water source.

The community had asked our pastor to come but he was going to the nearby community of Agua Buena to pray at the inauguration of their water project. Yes, Agua Buena, Good Water, has not had a good water source until yesterday!

I met Luciano, the president of the Water Board (Junta de Agua) at the church and we walked to the watershed where the spring is. 

The watershed is four manzanas, almost 7 acres and the spring serves the eighty or so households in the village. This year they had sufficient water during the dry season in contrast to last year.

Before we had a small celebration, they took me up to the spring. As we entered the forest, it was significantly cooler, full of vegetation. It was a bit slippery and people gave me a hand trying to negotiate the path.

Halfway up the hill there was a pool that collected the water from the rock that is the source of water. We gathered at the pool and I talked for a while with the people there.

A few people took the opportunity to drink from the source, using a “cup” made by folding a large leaf!

I concluded our time there with a short blessing of the water source. I also commended them for their care of the source and the need to continue caring so that the grandchildren of the children around us could enjoy it.

We then went down to a lower pool that gathers the water from above.

Finally, we gathered below, just outside the forested watershed and prayed.

I had found a few prayers that I used, including this one from Franciscans International.

Creator God, whose Spirit moved over the face of the waters, who gathers the seas into their places and directs the courses of the rivers, who sends rain upon the earth that it should bring forth life: we praise you for the gift of water. Create in us such a sense of wonder and delight in this and all your gifts, that we might receive them with gratitude, care for them with love, and generously share them with all your creatures, to the honor and glory of your holy name.

 Then we prayed parts of psalm 65: 10-14:

You visit the earth and water it… God’s stream is filled with water; you supply their grain. You prepare the earth: you water its plowed furrows, and break up the clods. With the rains you soften the earth, blessing its plants…. The meadows of the desert turn green; the hills are robed with joy.

I also shared a legend I had recently read about Saint Isidore, the patron of this community. The saint was with the owner of the land he worked one hot summer day. Don Ivan de Vargas noted that he was thirsty. Saint Isidore knelt down, put his staff in the ground, and said, “When God wants it, here there will be water.”  Fresh water bubbled up and they drank.

I then spoke briefly about how impressed I was with the care they are giving for their water source. I also urged them to continue their care for God’s gift of water and to develop a sense of awe before this gift.

Several men also shared their concern for the water and their desire to have a larger celebration next year. We walked down the hill for a small snack.

I left filled with a deep joy, an appreciation of the labor of this community, and deep gratitude to God and to the people that I had a chance to celebrate with them the gift of water.

An unplanned week

Those people who know me are aware that I like to have things planned in advance. Honduras has helped me become a little flexible, but I struggle.

This week there was going to be a study week for clergy, but it was cancelled in part because of the death of a priest of the diocese last week. Father Henry Rodriguez, who for a short time was parochial vicar here in the parish of Dulce Nombre, died in Mexico. Details about his burial are still pending. 

So I have a whole week that is unplanned - though I'm sure that I will have some things to do - including preparing for four sets of workshops with catechists in the following two weeks.

Sunday I met with leaders from youth groups in five towns and villages of the parish. There are at least two more groups but we need to do some more work in this area. I mentioned that World Youth Day in 2019 will be in Panama. That may seem like a dream that is beyond them, but I have suggested to our sister parish that they might think of subsidizing some from here and then have a few get-togethers between the two groups.

Sunday afternoon I went to Mass in the nearby town of Candelaria. During the readings, Padre German leaned over to me and asked me, “You are going to preach, aren’t you?” I was partly prepared. I'm getting used to this deacon thing.

Monday I had planned to help with some work in Plan Grande, digging ditches to place a sewage line. I joined the four guys working near the school.

I soon found what it means to be sixty-nine years old – working with two teenagers and two guys, 34 and early forties.

I had to stop a few times and rested; the ground is really hard and the sun was really hot. I went inside to rest and took my blood pressure which was abnormally low – probably due to dehydration.

I went out a second time and helped a bit – and took some pictures. As school let out even a few kids took up the pick axes and did some work.

At about noon, I went inside to have lunch. I had aches and pains in areas I didn’t believe were part of my body. Not really, but it sounds good.

I had planned to join them for an hour or two in the afternoon but got a request to go to Santa Rosa to transport Don Justino back to Plan Grande.

Don Justino arrived here in Plan Grande sometime last year. He has no home or family. Some have speculated that he is a former Nicaraguan official who got left in Honduras sometime in the late 1970s or 1980s. He is a little unbalanced, though this is only manifested occasionally in outbursts of shouting.

But the people here have accepted him and taken him in, giving him food and they now have erected a provisional place to live. (He doesn’t want to live in a house because of his occasional outbursts.) But he goes from house to house and sometimes just sits there. The people are very accepting.

A few days ago he had severe nosebleeds and he was taken to the hospital yesterday. He was released and Juan, a neighbor of mine, who had gone in to see how he was called Gloria to ask if I could come in to get them to take Justino home to Plan Grande.  I was exhausted and sore and just asked for thirty minutes to rest before taking the trip to Santa Rosa (about an hour each way.)

Justino is now in his “home” and, according to Juan, very happy to be here.

On the way to Santa Rosa there were several poles which had fallen or were tilting – with wires in the road or at pick up cabin level. I negotiated around them both going to and coming from Santa Rosa. Who knows what happened – but it seems as if only cable and internet are affected. The internet was out from about noon until 6:30.

The road that leads to my house should be torn up for a month for the sewage project. So I’ll probably have to find another place to park the pick-up until the work is finished. That means I’ll have to do some more walking – which is probably good for my health.

One last note. It has been rather hot here but often there are torrential rains in the late afternoon of evening that cool things off quite a bit. Today I felt the heat but now the rains and winds are bringing some blessed relief.

What more can I ask – even if I have no idea what I’ll be doing the rest of the week.