Phone Call - By Nelson/Roberto

May 1982

Shortly after Eva saw our mother for the last time, my mother urged my grandmother to take the children and move to Costa Rica where they would be safer. In 1980, Mama Chila packed up the family to live with my aunt Vilma who had been in Costa Rica since 1978. Mama Chila brought with her Vilma's two children Evelyn and Jacqueline. As well as Ana's two children Eva and Ernesto. I had not been born yet and our father Luis was in Cuba recovering from the bullet wound.

Earlier that year, Vilma had married a man named Eduardo who was the son of her employer. It was not the best arrangement since Eduardo did not treat Vilma well and occasionally threatened to deport her is she ever left him. Mama Chila and Vilma both worked during the day to provide for the children. Eduardo who was not as ambitious and stayed around the house most of the day.

They didn't hear much from Luis or Ana. Because of the war it was very hard to send messages. Ana wrote occasionally and the messages where usually delved in person by someone who was involved with the revolution. It had been a few months since Ana had last written. Then one day something weird happened. They received a phone call. Ana never called because it was much to dangerous. Mama Chila and Vilma were both out but Eduardo took the call.

---

Eduardo sits at home watching TV. Its about 3:30 in the afternoon. My aunt Vilma and grandmother Mama Chila have not come home from work yet. Eduardo lazily flips through the channels waiting for the two of them to come so he can eat. Just then the phone rings. He glances over at it wondering if he should bother picking it up. Reluctantly he stands andwaldels over to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello...is this Eduardo?" an agitated voice replies on the other side.

A little surprised by tone of her voice he replies "Yes...who is this?"

"Its Vilma's sister Mila" She says nervously

"Mila! How are you? We haven't herd from you in so lo..."

Ana interrupts him "Eduardo I'm sorry but I don't have much time. Is my mother there its really important."

Slightly annoyed by being cut off he replies "No they haven't returned home from work yet but they should be home soon. You should call back later."

"No there is no time can you give her a message" She is even more nervous now as someone is yelling in the background.

"Yes of course, whats wrong?" Eduardo questions.

"They found us I don't know how." she sounds scared now "I have to go. Tell mama chila I love her and..." she pauses slightly "tell her to take care of my kids..."

The phone clicks and Eduardo not knowing what to make of this stands for a second listening to the dial tone. He hangs up the phone, puzzled by what just happened and sits back down to watch TV.

---

Sometimes I wonder what it must have taken to make that phone call. She must have known when she made the call she would never see her children again. I can't even imagine what that must have been like.

That would be the last thing we ever herd from Ana. We never knew what happened to her after that and most likely we never will.

Letter from my father - by Nelson/Roberto

November 1997

Its 6:15 pm and its already dark out. I just got back from school and I'm the first one home. I dash up to my room and drop my bag. I fire up the computer and head back downstairs to get something to drink. As I go to the turn on the outside lights I bend over and pick up the mail. On my way back to the kitchen I start to go through it. Bill, bill, junk mail...but whats this?

Tossing the rest of the mail on the counter I'm starring down at a letter addressed to Roberto Coto form a Luis Coto. Its a letter from my father... When we got the original package from Probusqueda there was only letters from my aunt and grandmother. I take a second to look at it before opening it. Its three pages of neatly written cursive. I frown for a second. It all in Spanish and I can't read any of it.

I head back up to my room letter in hand. Half an hour later my dad yells from downstairs "I'm home"

"Hi" I reply making my way out into the hall.

"How was your day?" he questions

"I got a letter from my dad." I say excitedly

My adoptive father would tell me later these words made his heart sink because for 15 years he was the only one I called dad. There is a pause..."What does it say?"

"I'm not sure its all in Spanish"

Over dinner I show my parents the letter. My mom suggests that she could have one of her colleagues translate the letter for us. I tell her that I think some of my friend at school could translate it too.

The next day I stuff the letter in my bag as I head out the door. As I'm ride in on the T I stare at it I try to figure out what it says. All I can make out is "Dear Roberto," So I just sit there staring out the window. I always sit in the the very first seat on the train. It has a window all to its self and I can get off the train quicker. I've made this 15 minuet trip for the past four years but today it seams endless. My leg is shaking in anticipation and everyone getting on the train is taking forever. Finally I arrive at my stop just in time to catch the last van.

I'm running late. Its 8:20am when I arrive and there is no time to find someone to translate. I'll have to wait until lunch. I'm restless during my classes I pull out the letter every so often to look it over. I briefly show it to my friend Eric. Finally its time for lunch.

"Julia!" I call down the hall

She greats me with a smile, "Hey there"

"I got a letter from my father in Panama" I say pull the letter out of my bad

"Oh wow that's so cool, what does it say?"

"I'm not sure. I can't read it and I need to find someone who can translate it."

"Maria might be able help you. She speaks some Spanish."

"Really? Hmm I'll have to ask her"

"She's over there, Hey I got to run I'll catch up with you later" She turns and walks off.

"yup, thanks I'll see you later"

As she's walking away she calls down the hall "Hey when are we gonna playing soccer?"

I smile "Anytime just let me know" I turn and head towards the lounge where Maria is sitting.

"Hey Maria are you busy?"

Maria look up "Not right now. Why whats up?"

"I got this letter from my dad and I have no idea what it says you think you could help me with it?"

"This is your father in Central America?" she ask examining the letter.

"Yup"

"Yea sure let me look at it"

Finally I'll be able to find out what in the letter. Its loud in the foyer so we make are way in to the stair case and sit down on the steps going down to athletic office.

She sits and looks at it for a sec. She starts to read it to me but explains that its very hard with the writing and that he using some words she doesn't know. As she tries to read it I realize that I'm not actually listening to what she is saying. I don't think its the letter that I'm excited about. I can't wait to see meet these people and see what they are like. For that I will have to wait, it will be another month before I get to meet them.

Tip of my tongue - by Nelson/Roberto

June 1998

"Roberto, levanate" my father says as he nudges me awake.

Its 5:30 in the morning and its still dark out. My flight home leaves in a few hours so I have to wake up and get ready. Sleepily I rub my eyes, yawn and head towards the kitchen. I'm greeted by Gerardo and his wife who promptly start asking me about breakfast. Being so early and my due to the little Spanish I know, all I can do is stair blankly. Picking up on this they try again.

"Cerial?" Gerardo questions. I nod. "Pan...bread?"

"Si" say while fighting back another yawn.

My father says something. He mentions Eva. I perk up a little. I haven't seen her since December when we first met. I think he says that her and Roy will be at the airport.

Time to get ready. I showered and pack up and drag my bags out to the car. The sun is up now and the air is still cool but it's getting warmer.

Its about a 30 minuet drive to the airport so I take out my CD player. I'm always listening to music whenever I travel. This time its The Notorious B.I.G.'s Life after death album. As we drive a long I start to think about camp and how I will be there in two days. "You must be crazy" I think to my self. I'm traveling over 3,000 miles in 4 days. Yesterday morning I was in panama and spent the day in a buss on there way to Costa Rica. Later today I will be back in Boston. Tomorrow I will be packing for camp and Sunday Will be my first day as a Counselor In Training.

Maybe I shouldn't have missed the week of staff training...oh well nothing I can do now. What could possibly go wrong anyway?

We're here. I jump out of the van and look around...no Eva yet. We unload my luggage and find a place to sit. It is a beautiful day. The warm air is intoxicating and makes me not want to leave. But then I remember its summer back home too and we'll probably have more weather like this.

Just then a car pulls up. Its Eva! not a moment too soon either, because its almost time to check in. We all hug and Roy starts chatting away with my dad and Gerardo.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at my sister timidly. She must have seen me because she takes my hand and places it on her stomach. She smiles and says something in the best Spanglish she can muster. I'm not really listening, all I can think of how weird this pregnancy thing is. My sister is the first person I can remember that's been pregnant. She is due any day now and her stomach is huge. I move my hand long her brown dress. No kicks, I'm a little disappointed.

I pull my hand back and look up at her. She smiles knowingly. I smile back thinking how grown up and mature she looks. There is something about her, something familiar in those eyes.

Its time to go now. We kiss, hug and say goodbye. I want to tell her something but I don't know what. Its like the words are there, on the tip of my tongue but I don't know how to say them. So I just stood there, looking at her. Someone I want to know but can't. It wouldn't be until three years later that I would realize what I saw that day.

Premonition?

My older brother Ernesto sent me this picture yesterday. Its a drawing he did when he was in elementary school. Whats interesting that it was in an envelope that had Roberto written on the front.

We both think it is a picture of us meeting for the first time. The girl and boy at the top of the picture are him and Eva. The little bot coming down the steps of the airplane is probably me and holding my hand is my mother Ana. Next to her could be Mama Chila and Luis.

Whats really weird is that this isn't far off from what actually happened. So I wonder is it just a coincidence or a premonition...

Being Adopted - By Nelson/Roberto

I think adoption is one of the most wonderful and at the same time one of the most difficult things I have experienced in my life. The joy of adoption can best be described by the quote that begins this blog.

Losing ones family obliges us to find ones family. Not always the family that is our blood but the family that can become our blood.

However, no matter how great my adoptive parents have been, growing up as an adopted child was not always easy. The most difficult emotion I have ever had to deal with was the uncertainty that came from being adopted. I imagine that most if not all adopted persons go through a similar experience sometime during their life.

Perhaps in my case these feelings might have been harder to deal with. For my parents did not even know birthday never mind how I came to be adopted. Today I could not imagine my life without my adopted family but back then having them was not enough.

There is just something about your birth-mother/birth-father that you can never forget or completely let go of. You want to know what they look like, if you look like them and what kind of people are they. But most importantly you want to know: Why was I given up?

To this question there is no easy answer. It is something that I struggled with and watched my friends struggle with. Some were more vocal than others but you just knew even the quiet ones were thinking about it too. You wonder how can the people who gave you life simply give you away? Well I'm sure it's never that easy and I'm sure they never forget either.

I used to sit at night staring out of my window wishing I could just see my my mother. I thought if I could just see her, she would make everything better. These feelings never went away, no matter how hard I tried to fight or ignore them. But that all changed when I met my birth family.

Being reunited with them was incredible to say the least. I went from not knowing my birthday to having three new siblings and a huge family that had been looking for me all along. It seamed to answer all my questions about who I was and if I looked like my parents (I'm practically a carbon copy of my father.)

However I feel like I am very lucky in this respect. I have herd a few stories of people who went looking for their birth parents only to find they had nothing in common and could not relate to each other. I wish I could say "Don't worry one day you will find your birth parent too and everything will be alright" but I know that's not always the case. Not every adoption story has such a happy ending.

In the end I wonder how much finding your birth parents really matters. Yes finding them did answer a lot of my questions and it did take away the awful feeling of uncertainty but I don't think that's what mattered most. I think what mattered the most was the family that we have became.

I hardly think of it as my adopted family and my birth family anymore. When people say "oh you found your real parents" I say no I found my birth parents. I don't even like to make the distinction between them. I just like to think I have two sets of parents and one BIG family.

Family is more than just being related because sometimes even our own blood doesn't treat us as they should. Family is about caring for people and loving them unconditionally. Family is what we found in them and what they found in us.

Not always the family that is is our blood but the family that can become our blood...


Christmas 1997

Christmas 2006

Iraq is the new El Salvador? - by Nelson/Roberto

This weekend I watched Salvador which is a movie about photo journalist Richard Boyle who travels to El Salvador during the begging of its Civil War. The movie depicted the violence surrounding the country at the time. It stars James Woods and was directed by Oliver Stone.

The movie takes place during the early 80's. This was also around the same time that I was born and separated from my family.

On one side you have the right government forces who control most of the couturiers wealth. On the other you have the peasants and farmers of El Salvador who are supposedly getting help from communist countries.

I found my self drawing many parallels with the current war in Iraq. There is a very sobering scene about half way through the movie where Richard Boyle is arguing with the US military general. Boyle has just returned from the mountains of El Salvador where he has taken pictures of the guerrilla fighters. The general is drilling him for about the types of weapons that the guerrillas have. When he explains that they have simple rifles the general refuses to believe him claiming that "military intelligence" says that they have RPGs and other weapons supplied by communists.

This sounds all to familiar to me. I remember very clear George Bush making claims that Iraq had "weapons of mass destruction" and was being backed by terrorists nations. I think its sad really. Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes?

There is also a clip of Ronald Reagan talking about the communist terrorists and how they could take over Central America and then even north America. Once again this sounds all to familiar.

In El Salvador we funded the war because we were afraid of communists. We invaded Iraq because we were afraid of Terrorists. Honestly I think the only different between then and now is September 11th. Because of 9/11 congress allowed President Bush to lead us into a war we had no business starting. Thankfully congress did not let Regan invade El Salvador because it might be like Iraq is today. Even so it is still a very violent place to be and it might be getting worse.

Another interesting scene in the movie was when Boyle interviews the guerrillas. There was footage of them training. I can only wonder if this is what my father went through. They also mention and act out what was known as "the final offensive." This was supposed to be the last big push by the rebels to take over the country. However it turned out to be just the beginning of a bloody 13 year war. My mother mentioned this in her last letter.

Overall it was a really good movie and I recommend if you are interested in El Salvador's Civil War or want to see the parallels to Iraq that I mentioned.

Was it all in vain? - by Nelson/Roberto

While surfing the web this week, looking for other blogs about El Salvador I came a across the A Different View of a Good Life blog. The author meg has spent some time living in El Salvador and she writes about her accounts there. In this post she talk about the violence in El Salvador.

El Salvador has a culture of violence and trauma reinforced by a history of a brutal civil war; a war that ended with some peace accords that basically lied to the people by saying things were going to change. It is true, things did change. Many say that the poverty rate is worse now than when it was in the war. Imagine that, the people have gotten poorer? The rich politicians have brought in their neoliberal politics and trade agreements (CAFTA) to benefit their friends in corporations. And the people are slowly losing their right to march and protest the injustice going on in their country because as the government likes to say, the protests of the left are terrorist acts, so now there is new terrorist legislation.

Then there are the gangs. The gangs of El Salvador originated in the US, but with the slick deportation process of the US government, El Salvador found a new problem to deal with. The gangs are neither leftist or rightist, but Tony Saca likes to think the gangs are all leftist (even if Arena does pinta y pega with gang members during the elections). And so, with the easy solutions of the Arena government, all the youth of El Salvador are a target. So much for treasuring your future!

So when you couple a history of violence with a people in growing need for food, shelter and jobs, youth who are being targeted, gang members who target everyone (especially busses), and the slow political process that takes human rights away one by one, one might find a breading ground for a whole mess of effects brought on by this culture. One such effect is widespread violence.

A lot goes on in this country every day. Busses are attacked and burned if they didn’t pay the gang fare. Patrons of busses are robbed or killed every day. In the night there are shootings, and we have a homicide rate that is through the roof. Occasionally there are protests, but the last one turned into a police instigated riot with helicopters equipped with gunmen.

A few months ago one of my cousins almost died her when her husband shot her and killed their baby son. This was very hard on my grandmother and it took her a while to get over it. Maybe a year before another cousins on my fathers side died in a car jacking incident.

I wasn't close to either of them but in a way this is so depressing to me. I mean my family lost so much in this war. My mother gave her life and my father lost his home, his wife and his son for 16 years. For what? so that the country could become even poorer?

He has been through some very hard times in his life and you can see how the war has affected him. I would hate for him to find out it was all for nothing...

The Back Story - by Nelson/Roberto

Most of this was taken from my college essay and was written about 8 years ago. Since then we have learned a lot more about the details, so it isn't entirely accurate. However it should give you an idea of how I was separated from my family and how they found me again. I will let my mother write about all the details. :)

With the introduction of my birth family came the information of my past and the story of my life.

My story begins even before I was born. My birth father and mother where around 20. My father had been influenced by high school teachers to join the revolutionary movement in El Salvador. Soon after he began his work he met my other Ana Milgro Escobar. Despite objections from her family she joined the movement as well. They were married shortly after in a ceremony of arms.

The group they were a part of the was called the FPL which was one of the sub groups that made up the FLMN. My father was a body guard to the head of the FPL while my mother worked to coordinate the different cells. (In the war people worked in smaller groups called cells. If one cell was captured it did not know enough to give away any information.) This was a very important potion for my mother who had just turned 20.

Later that year, my father was in a gunfight somewhere in the mountains of El Salvador. He was shot inches away from his heart. He spend 3 long days in hiding barely hanging on to life. If one of his brothers had not given him blood he would have surely died.

He was taken to Nicaragua for surgery. He managed to survive the operation but needed a second one to remove the bullet. This required him to go to Cuba. After four months in Cuba he had not gotten the operation and returned to Nicaragua to see my mother. At this point, my brother and sister had been sent to live in Costa Rica with my Grandmother. It was around this time that I was born. My mother and I lived in El Salvador for three month before it became unsafe to live there anymore.

My mother was supposed to meet up with my father in Costa Rica, but it never happened. She was reassigned on a new mission. She and two other men kidnapped a businessman in Honduras. We lived in a safe house for a few months, but the Honduran government found out where she was living. They stormed the house and killed my mother and the two men. This was three days before my first birthday. The police found me in a back room with two other little girls.

They did not know what to do with us so we were put in an orphanage. I stayed there for a whole year before I was adopted. They put sever notices in the paper saying that if any was missing children or knew the who we were they should come forward and claim us. No one came forward and after a year in the orphanage I was adopted.

Around this time my birth father had found out that his wife had been killed and his son was missing. He was furious at certain people within the FPL because they would not let him look for me or give him any information. Disillusioned he left the revolution and warned around Central America. He ended up in Panama where he worked 2 jobs only to earn $20 in a month. One of these jobs was doing silk screening. Think that he could do that on his own he set off to make a better life. He remarried and was able to create a stable business for him and his family.

Through a friend he learned that I had been adopted to a family in America. He began thinking about coming to America to look for me. However he had no idea where I lived so it would be impossible to find me.

In 1992 my grandmother began her search to find me. It took her a year to find an organization that would help her. An organization called Probusqueda spent four more years going though newspapers and whatever government documents they could get their hands on trying to find me. They finally completed their research in 1997 after doing an Internet search to find our phone number. We where contacted by a man working for the Physicians for Human Rights and given a copy of all their findings. After a blood test confirmed that they were my family we made arrangements to meet them during Christmas.

Update: I did some major editing to this entry so it would work better with the adoption story.

Read the whole story in our e-book

Holocaust Museum - by Nelson/Roberto

Today I went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC. If you have not gone to a museum about the Holocaust then it is something I would recommend doing. It's a very emotional experience. A lot of people have learned about it school and know about the death camps and other horrible things that took place. However you don't really understand what all that meant until you see some of the images in person. Even then I could not even imagine being there in person and what those people must have gone through.

This was not my first time going to this museum. I had been once before on a school trip in 8th grade. I feel like it meant a lot more. When I went last time it was a really different experience. I was having a bad day so I kind of walked trough it with out taking it in. I also think this time I had more of a connection to it because of what happened to my family. In 8th grade I had not met my family yet and I did not know anything about the war in El Salvador.

While what happened in Germany does not compare to the things that happened in my country I think there are still parallels. For example we had secret police and paramilitary squads death. Some of them would punish supporters of the revolution by steeling their children. Thankfully what happened in my country was not as horribly brutal as what happened during the Holocaust.

I think the most moving part was the hearing the survivors talking about there experiences. They told stories about walking days on end while taking turns sleeping. People being left for dead on the side of the road because they could not carry on. One women had to step on the bodies of the dead to escape a death camp. As they spoke you could see the determination they had to a live and to make it. I truly admire them for that. You could see the pain on there faces as they recalled everything they had been through. I've seen that look on my own father's face as he recalled his experiences in war.

One main cried as he described how he had to leave a 10 year old boy with a farmer. The little boy was to weak to walk with him and the farmer would take of him. The boy didn't want to leave him and asked why the Nazis were doing this to him. All the man could say is because you are circumcised and Jewish. You could see the choke back the tears as the emotions came flooding in.

That is something I have experienced before. When the pain of memory comes rushing back and it takes everything you have to fight it. Some of my own experiences have been painful enough so I can't even imagine what he went through.

I think how horrible this was all was and how horrible war is. I think many people don't realized the way it tears families a part. No matter what side you are on. I'm just lucky that even after everything that happened to us we were able to find each other again and rebuild.

I have to say I am proud of my parents for fighting. They sacrificed so much and they stood up for what they believed in. One of the reasons the Holocaust happened was people did not stand up to the government. They saw an injustice and did not stand by let it happen. People like them and others who stand up for what they believe in make this world a better place.

I also know that its easy now look back now and say that they did the right thing by standing up to the government but I'm sure at the time it was not so easy to pick right from wrong. So like my sister said I don't think my parents would have done this unless they believed it was the right thing to do.

One of the survivors said something that stuck out in my mind. She said the dead are not here to tell their story and that even the survivors will not be here one day. I that one reason I am writing this. My mother is not here to tell us her story. So by telling mine she won't be forgotten.

You gave me life - by Eva

To you:

Things haven't been perfect, I know. Sometimes I wish I could get to know you more. Even though you've been so far away from me for my whole life you've never left my heart.

I am sorry if I've hurt you, I am aware I am just human. I am sorry I am not the perfect person for you. You've gave me life, what a wonderful present that is. You've gave me strength, you showed me how to fight and not to give up, not to be afraid, you showed me how to be a person who cares.

You're a wonderful person, you mean a lot to me. You don't know how much I've loved you cause I haven't been able to show you the place in my life you've owned for all of these years. But today I gotta tell you I LOVE YOU those simple words I say even we have been apart from each other the blood call is something you cannot get away.

I wish I could tell you all what I feel, I wish I could open up my heart for you. Life has placed us where we are but love will never fade away. Like the song goes we've been far away and for so long and we couldn't help it. We've grown old and been through so much but I will always be your baby girl I know.

That is me, I am just your daughter even if I don't look like you at all. I have your blood in my veins and there is something you should know. I will never forget about you cause I love you so much Dad.

They Never Forgot - by Nelson/Roberto

2001 was a really hard year for me. I had finished my first year and half in college and hadn't done very well. Every course I took I was on the verge of failing even though I tried very hard in some of my classes it just wasn't enough. I decided to transfer schools because I just couldn't keep up. I felt like I was failing out. I had pledged in a fraternity and while it probably didn't help academically it was my saving grace socially. I had lost touch with everything I liked to do. I was missing Carolina, my love interest, all the time and I just wanted to go see her again. Our relationship was a little...dysfunctional to say the least and it was really getting to me. Not only did she live in another country but she had a boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking. Needless to say it was not an easy time for me.

I went down to panama as usual for Christmas. I was really down and my family could tell. They tried to cheer me up as best they could but nothing really worked.

One night I was sitting outside looking at the star and my stepmother Miriam came to talk with me. We talked about some of the stuff we I was going through. Between her broken English and my broken Spanish I'm surprised we talked about as much as we did. She sat there dictionary in hand and comforted me as best she could.

I'm not exactly sure what we were talking about but I remember her telling me how much my family cared for me. She said Eva, Toto and Estefany grew up knowing about their brother who had been lost. Luis had learned through some friends that I had been adopted to America. He had no idea where in America but he was saving money to come look for me. Those words cut right through me and I broke down...they never forgot about me. Even though I was lost for 15 years they never forgot. I was completely overwhelmed by that.

I'm not sure why it meant so much to me and why it still does. Maybe it has to do with being adopted. One question that I think every adopted child asks him or her self at some point is why was I given up? Even if the situation was for the best you can't help but feel like you were forgotten. So hearing those words was like an answer of my payers or something. I have no way of describing it.

Even now as I sit here reading my sister post about how my grandmother never stopped looking for me I'm overwhelmed by a feeling I can only describe as joy. However that does not even come close to the feelings that I have. To never be forgotten. There are no words. I have to be one of the luckiest people in the world. So many people are neglected and forgotten about. Not only did I have a wonderful family here in America but I also had a family in Central America that never stopped thinking about me, never stopped looking, and never stopped caring.

No matter how lost I was to them or even to myself they never EVER forgot about me...

Mila's Last letter

A letter to her mother by my Ana Milagro.

September 23, 1981

Dear Mom,

I hope that when you receive this letter you are in good health as well as everybody around you. Mom the person who carries this letter will ask about the kids and how he can help you. I want you to tell him everything that the children need. I will stay here meantime. I don't know how long but I hope that you can understand my situation. I want to see my children the more than anything but right now I can not.

I could only send you some of the things you asked for because as you know my economical situation is difficult.

On the a different note I want you to explain why you left Nicaragua and what told you those people. Finding out that you are there [in Costa Rica] was for me a great surprise because I don't know your reasons. Can you tell me where Luis is? I haven't see him since I was there.

Some people are telling me that Toto is a cry-baby and is drinking too much coffee. Please don't make them spoiled kids. Remember that they are with you for now but they will be with me again one day

and you know how I am with them.

I want to let you know that Haydee is going to move into her own house in October and we are thinking about selling the apartment. Dalila says not to sell it and Tita says sell it to buy a house instead.

My advise to you is to sell it and have the money sent there because here [in El Salvador] the situation is getting worse every day. It [victory] is not going to be as soon as we thought. Maybe it is going to take two years or more and for that reason it is better that you sell the apartment and try to start over there. Even we [in the movement] don't know how the situation is going to be and if my sisters left the country they wouldn't have anywhere to go. However if you are there they will have somewhere to go in emergency. Dalila might move in when Haydee leaves because if not we will lose the apartment.

Regarding the power of attorney I advise you to do it there with help of a lawyer. Then send it back to the country [El Salvador]. I don't advise going in person because it is too dangerous. Passing trough Honduras is to risky. They let you go inside but do not let you go out. Something bad could happen. Everybody who go inside the country is checked and interrogated. I want to tell you that some female cousins of the Haydee's midwife went there, were taken out of their house, were raped, and killed. For that reason it is better that you do not to go although you I know want to see your daughters. But it would be far instead worse being so close but dead.

Try to solve apartment's problem staying there [in Costa Rica]. Come to an agreement with them [your daughters]. You can call them by phone or write to them but don't let them know where I am because that could be risky. Please tell Vilma the same. She should not to write things that could compromise me because every letter coming out of the country is read. The same goes if you call by phone. Be careful because the risk is with your daughters who are there [El Salvador].

Tina called 5 months ago and she said that she had written several times to Vilma but Vilma didn't answer. Even more she thinks that the letters never were received because of the situation of the country

I explained to her that you were fine and I told her not to worry. I promised I would write to you but I don't know if her letters were received. Tita says that Raulito of Andreita wants to buy the apartment. He wants to get a loan. We told him that you wanted 8,000 colones for it. I Think that is a very good deal. If you still find someone who wants to buy it, sell it. Please do what I tell you because you know better than anybody that I am always truthful with you. Even if you do nothing with the money but spend it on food that money is still yours.

Lupe of Andreita came to ask for clothing and shoes. She said because you always brought her cloth and shoes she misses you. Andreita also came. She has become a fat woman and asked us to send her regards to you. They still live in “Tierra Blanca” [white land]. Alicia lives en “La Santa Lucia” and she rents a house there with a young men and Yolan. She wasn't able to get to United States. Isabel of Andreita is pregnant. La Lupe was looking for a job because Roque's salary is no enough

I sent you photos of the baby. His name is Roberto Alfredo. Tell the kids that he is their little brother. I trust god that they meet him soon. Tell me what Eva says about her father, if she misses him, if she still remembers me. I am fine although I had some problems because of the childbirth but it was nothing serious. The baby looks like Eva.

(Baby Nelson/Roberto and older cousin)

I will see if I can send you money monthly so tell me what you need and how much money you spend. I sent you some things inside of the suitcase. If you need the suitcase then take it, if not send it to me because I need it.

The things which I send are

3 panties for Eva

socks for Toto

1 pan and spoons

2 blankets

1 lotion

1 soup

1 talc

1 blouse for you (Dalila sends it)

underwear for you

1 pair of shoes (Tita sends them)

3 towels

2 pair of pants for Rene

2 shirts

socks

handkerchiefs

shoes

1 jacket

other things

Now I must I say goodbye to you.

The daughter who misses you so much,

Mila

P.S.

Send me Vilma's phone number. I will see if I can call from time to time in order to see how you are. If Luis should call Vilma's mother in law, she shouldn't tell him where you are. She should tell him that you left for the country.

A women one of a kind / by Eva

One of the things that really bothered me the most since I lost my mother is the fact that Mom and Dad had kids even though they knew they were at risk and their lives were in danger. I used to wonder: Why if I know my life is in danger would I have children? OK, let's say that one child is the legacy of the marriage, but two? and then three? I thought that it was irresponsible of them. Especially since they were actually fighting in the field and part of something really difficult in the middle of the war. And again I wondered WHY?

For so long I blamed my parents for our separation. I blamed them for loosing my little brother who I never met. For years and years of seeing my Grandma quietly suffering and for not being there...I guess that is part of the feeling you develop in these situations. I like to think about it as the way I had to comfort myself and to make sense of all the things I didn't ask for. Non of this made any sense for me during all my childhood. It took years and years for me to understand...

My last birthday, Margaret asked Roberto and I for an interview to talk about my mother. Margaret knows how difficult is for us, specially for me, to talk about all of these things. To remember and open up but I knew she really needed to do that and I agreed. During the interview I tried so hard not to cry. It is always painful to put out my Mom from my heart but there was something Margaret said that made me understand a lot of things that suddenly made sense for me that day: My Mom would never do a thing like this if she wouldn't has been 100% sure it was the right thing to do! Of course, Margaret was right! And then, everything became so clear to me. In an instant, my daughter Dani came to my mind and I knew why she was doing it and that it was for me, for my brothers, for my family!

Then, I understood that was my Mom's way to do something for other people and that makes me think about how brave she was since she actually DID something. She didn't wait to see the change, she WAS the change, the force to make it real. She fought for something she really believed in and I wonder how many of us can do that without hesitation? How many of us can fight for other people just to make a difference? My Mom was a really brave woman. She had determination and in her plans she knew that us (her children, her blood) would have a different opportunity, a chance to be better and improve ourselves, even if that didn't make any sense at that moment. Perhaps she had a vision of the future that not all the people had back then.

I use to think about me as her living memory since I look a lot like her. I like to think that I am her representation today and let me tell you, that is a huge responsibility because sometimes I am not sure if I am as brave as she was. As strong as she was. As caring and loving as she was but there is something I am sure about. I am so proud to be the daughter of my mother, a women one of a kind...

The last time I saw her - by Eva

After thinking a lot about what I should write next, the day I saw my mother for the last time came to my mind. A lot flashes through my mind, the vision I have is so blurry. I do remember that day…

I’ve never talked about it before to anyone, maybe because I didn’t trust my memory. But now it seems to flow in my mind and makes sense after all. Oh God, I was just 3 years old…

I have the feeling I hadn’t seen her for so long the day she came, the last time I saw her. I remember she was in a rush, kind of nervous, maybe anxious, but looking at her was like looking an angel. I couldn’t have been happier to have her back.

I remember her bringing a lot of presents for me, my brother Ernesto and for my Grandma too. At that time, there was just the two of us siblings. I remember I loved all the presents, but all I wanted was to be with her. However, she was having a conversation with my father and they seemed to be very serious about it. Their faces had an expression of anguish that I couldn’t understand at that moment, and now I think maybe they knew they were not going to see each other again…

After that, all that I remember is my mom packing her bag the next day…

She’s got a perceptible sadness in her eyes, a sad look that will never fade of my memories. Even so she was calmed and peaceful, with a peace that only someone who is doing the right thing can have…

She comes to me and hugs me for so long. I don’t remember the words she said to me, but I do remember her looking at me with such love. I can say it was with the love that I use to look at my beautiful daughter nowadays., As if you were looking the most precious treasure you could have. My brother Toto was standing there, the interesting thing about it is that he was calmed as well. He wasn’t crying, but he’s got those puppy dog eyes about the situation. Maybe because he wasn’t aware of what was happening and was trying to understand, or maybe because it was a prelude of his strong but calmed personality.

I wish I could remember more about her. After watching her saying good bye all that I remember is that I cried, cried from the deepest part of my heart, like I am crying now. I remember all I could say was: “Don’t go Mom, don’t go… ”

Meeting for the first time - by Nelson/Roberto

I met my birth family for the first time when I was 16 during the Christmas of 1997. It was an incredible experience. One that I will never forget. Looking back on it now, it's all a blur of memories. Filled with excitement, confusion, love and happiness. When I found them I found my self.

The first thing I remember is sitting on the plane listening to music. I'm always listening to music, especially on long trips. I don't remember what I was listening to but I think I had really crappy head phones. It always bugs me when I don't have a decent pair of head phones and for some reason this sticks out in my mind. Even though I had been to a few different countries before I had never been to Central America and I really had no idea what to expect.

We arrived late at night and as we walked thought the airport I remember going down a long flight of steps on our way to customs. I was still listening to music as we waited to pick up our bags. As we stood there a woman approached me and started to ask me in Spanish some questions. She had a piece of paper in her hand and I believe she wanted me to take a survey. Not knowing any Spanish I just stood there and ignored her. I felt bad because I'm sure I came off as being rude but I had no idea what was going on and all I could think about were the people waiting outside.

We finally cleared customs and head out of the airport. There were people everywhere and most of them were cab drives asking if we wanted a taxi. We just kept saying no and moving forward. Then there was a clearing and that's when I saw them for the first time. In front of me stood an older version of myself and by his side was a little girl of 6 years. Immediately they hugged me, my little sister getting stuck in between me and my father. For a moment I tried to let her out but it was no use, they wouldn't let go. My father had been waiting 16 years to see me and it felt like he would never let me go ever again.

After that its all a blur of meeting my older brother, older sister, grandmother, stepmother, cousins, aunts and uncles. There must have been 30 people at at the airport waiting to meet us. I have no idea how long we were outside of the airport hugging, crying and trying to communicate with each other. We have a picture from that night. Its blurry and you can't really see anything. All you can make out are lights streaking across the photo. My mother has said from time to time that this picture describes the emotion of that night and I think she is right. It was just one big blur.

The next thing I remember is piling into a car with my little sister close behind. She sat next to me never letting go. My mother snapped a picture of the two of us. Later we would make a mouse pad from this picture and to this day that mouse pad sits on my desk. As we drove off I remember feeling completely lost, everything looked so different and I had no idea where I was. Even so I felt at home and safe. I looked down at my sister. Here was this little girl who I had never met but I meant the world to her. It was a strange feeling and one that I would feel again and again as I got to know my family.



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