Las faldas del volcan

Activista de la Semana

“De donde son tus padres/Where are your parents from “
“De un cantoncito que se llama el Carmen, por el Escalon/From a little town called El Carmen, by El Escalon”
“A alla por las faldas del volcan/By the skirts of the volcano”
“Si!”

Bobby knew exactly where I was talking about. He asked what part of El Salvador my parents were from. I asked confidently “Cuando fue la ultima vez que fuiste/When was the last time you went to El Salvador” I was hoping he had gone recently so I could follow up with his thoughts about the political climate. “Tengo 22 anos de no poder ir” “Oh” I said. It had been twenty two years since he had seen El Salvador. I knew that Bobby had not returned not because he didn’t want to but because he couldn’t. It was an all too familiar reality of some of my cousins, aunts, and cousins who had migrated from El Salvador but because of their immigration status could not travel back. Bobby then begins to talk about how he dreams about El Salvador. He had had a dream recently about his uncle. In his dream he asked where his aunt was. I dream about it like it was yesterday, he told me. I assume he has a photographic memory. Memories that sustain him. They become his visa, they become his air plane ticket to El Salvador. In Bobby’s dreams ICE doesn’t’ exist. Even border patrol can’t take the love he had for the motherland. And he dreams about it often. That is the power of the mind. And for reminding me of my roots, and who I am, Bobby is my activista de la semana.