It's been a long 11 weeks. At least once a week, I've had the privilege to have almost the exact same conversation. It goes like this: I start off by saying, "Oh man! I have a column to write." "Oh," the other person will reply. "You write a column? Sweet. Wait, what's it called? Oh. Wait, how do you write about El Salvador every week. What is there to say?"
In truth, this reaction is not so far from my own thought process every time I sat down to grind out another 600 words. It was helpful, during these times, to look back at the journal I kept during my two-month stay in the rural village of Santa Marta, El Salvador; I was reminded of the things that got me excited to apply to be a columnist in the first place. Each week, I tried to tackle some important questions in international development, like recognizing preset notions of what we expect poverty to look like or how we can justify our privileged position in the international system. If you read last week's column about the theme park ride Driving at Night in the Third World, you can also tell that sometimes it is helpful to take a step back and realize just how we fit into the big picture. And that sometimes it's okay to laugh.
Last week, someone asked me just what I wanted readers to take away from the experience after they had finished reading. I admit, not every column has metaphorically knocked it out of the park. But I like to think that at some level, I've gotten people to think about some of the same things I carried with me back to the States after a summer abroad. Yet even after these 11 weeks, I realize there is much that I did not decide to write about because I felt that I lacked key information and research. Principally among these things are the present-day and long-term effects of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and the connection between sweeping, first-world policy efforts and their effects on individuals. Actual people. Rural people who are influenced by power structures so far out of their reach, they cannot even begin to right the wrongs against them.
The first thing which comes to mind is the relationship between the Pacific Rim Mining Corporation, a Canadian-American venture looking to open massive gold-mining operations in El Salvador, and the people who actually live in the place they want to do the mining in. Despite the protests of local community leaders who fear for the health of their families and that local wells will dry up, it seem that NAFTA legally permits such exploitation with complete disregard for what is actually good for local people. Currently, Pacific Rim is engaged in a multi-million dollar lawsuit against the Salvadoran government, which has tried to block the project to protect its citizens. It also turns out that NAFTA contributes to the absurd reality that many corn farmers of Mexico and Central America simply cannot afford to eat their own corn and are essentially forced to buy imported, processed American products. Something, it seems, is devastatingly wrong with this system. It is impossible to have a complete knowledge of El Salvador without thinking of these issues.
In a famous homily, Archbishop Oscar Romero told his congregation that, "We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in knowing that." Reality hurts, especially for idealistic international relations students here at Tufts. But Romero continued, "This permits us to do something and to do it well." Eventually, I'll figure out just what that one thing is. In the meantime, though, I'm content wandering around until I stumble upon it.
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Jacob Kreimer is a junior majoring in international relations. He can be reached at Jacob.Kreimer@tufts.edu.
