Breaking Home Ties

     [In July of 1980] the gruesome activities of the death squads compelled Victor and me to make plans to flee El Salvador. I knew that I could escape and go into the mountains and fight with the muchachos. I also knew that

Victor, as a student and a teenager, was not prepared for this kind of life or death situation.

     Just before dawn, we awoke, climbed out of the tamarindo tree, and went home. Two weeks had gone by without sleeping in our own houses due to the war situation and the fact that the army was looking for us.

     While I was stuffing my backpack, my sister Beatriz stood next to the bed where my clothes were piled. I whispered to her, “I’m not sure where I should tell Abuelita I’m going. Maybe I can tell her that I’m going to the capital to look for a job.”

“That’s a good idea. That way she’ll think that you can come home in case there’s an emergency,” Beatriz whispered softly.

     I went back into the kitchen and sat down next to my grandmother, who was drinking her morning coffee.  Beatriz brought me a plate of tamales.  I couldn’t speak for a while. After a long silence I started discussing the pros and cons of living in our small town versus living in a bigger city, then asked my grandmother her opinion.  She wasn’t fooled for a minute. She asked, “Where are you going?”

    “To San Salvador,” I lied.

     She gave me a sad look and replied, “I’m going to miss you.”

    “I will miss you, too.”

   “We will be waiting for you,” she said. “Follow my advice and you will not have any problems.” She was referring to her frequent admonition not to keep company with bad friends.

   “Yes, I'll follow your advice. And I will write to you.” I hugged her, and bowed my head while she blessed me.

   “Remember, my son, if you don’t like the new place that you are going to, know that you can always come back home anytime. We will always have something to eat here.”

   My eyes were full of tears. “I know, Abuelita.”

   Then I went back into my bedroom and picked up my backpack. I moved slowly and reluctantly out the door to the street.

-excert from BREAKING HOME TIES : A Salvadoran’s Journey, 2003