When Prayers Seem Insufficient, Solidarity Fills the Gaps

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Dear friends,

I am writing this in early July as I prepare for a big move. After almost five years out of Haiti and back in Virginia, I’m moving to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, in a couple of weeks. A very big move indeed.

It became apparent over the past year that I would not soon return to my home in Haiti, so we (World Mission and Presbyterian Hunger Program colleagues) planned for my return at least to the island of Hispaniola. The people of Haiti continue to suffer greatly, even with the promise of security in the streets. A United Nations mission led by the police of Kenya along with specially trained officers from various other countries started a few weeks ago.

By the end of July rather than separated from my beloved community in Haiti by an ocean, I’ll be across the land border from them.

I grieve being away from so many friends and colleagues, even as I anticipate a new call.

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My work also is more complex than it was when I left Haiti in 2019. Then I served as facilitator for a network of grassroots organizations, all of them individually and collectively working toward the right of all to have access to food and clean water.

The work through Joining Hands has evolved to a wider approach, working closely with leaders of similar networks in other countries. It’s exciting and challenging.

And it is often difficult to describe.

You are going to meet so many people from around the world through my stories. So many people and so many places, in fact, you will say: Hey! I thought you were in the Dominican Republic! In fact, though I will live in the Caribbean, my work that absolutely fills me, will take me to places all over.

In Global Solidarity Collective as this new iteration is named, our core group (Valery Nodem and Eileen Schuhmann, international associate and mission specialist with the Presbyterian Hunger Program (PHP) Jed Koball, a fellow mission co-worker and catalyst for extractives, human rights and the environment and I) gather people who are working toward a better life in their communities together.

These include our Joining Hands networks in Haiti, Peru, El Salvador, Democratic Republic of Congo, Cameroon and Sri Lanka, as well as Indigenous folks in the U.S.

We call it solidarity.

Our colleague Fabienne Jean calls it working together.

“Do you know what makes people want to work together?” she asks.

“When they can come together and share their pain.”

On a March trip to El Salvador to visit members of our Joining Hands Network in El Salvador (Asociación Red Uniendo Manos El Salvador (ARUMES)), I was asked to offer prayers for people in pain.

Rosalía Lopez de Grande and her family live within an arm’s reach of sugar cane fields. Every man in her family has worked in the fields, carrying loads of chemicals to treat the crops, hiding to avoid those toxins dropped by helicopter or drone, and covering their faces from the heavy smoke as sugar cane is burned before being harvested.

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Rosalía has buried her husband and three of her seven sons since 2012. They all died after being diagnosed with chronic kidney disease. Her son Oscar travels four hours for dialysis twice a week.

The remaining three men refuse to be tested for fear of knowing they likely will die from the illness.

Sugar cane is the predominant crop grown in El Salvador. The country is the 8th largest exporter of sugar in the world and the second largest in Central America.

Refined sugar sits on just about every breakfast table in the U.S.

Rosalía’s family is only one of many tragically sacrificed for a simple, ordinary sweetness.

ARUMES has joined a number of other organizations in an advocacy campaign called Azúcar Amargo.

Bitter Sugar.

I doubt I will forget sitting in the open-air kitchen at Rosalía’s small house. She uses a wheelchair after losing her right leg to infection. She sat beside her son Oscar who told us about rigorous trips for dialysis. She listened while he said he lost of his fear of speaking out, even though the well-established wealthy sugar cane companies minimize the risks of the sugar cane workers.

“I do not want any other family to go through this,” he said firmly.

But I was watching Rosalía drop her head even more, gripping the arm of her wheelchair, wiping tears.

The prayer I offered was not sufficient. As we prepared to leave, I approached this once vital mother and grandmother and held her hands in mine.

She bent her head toward mine.

Prayers are needed, but so are hands joined together in solidarity.

While I thank you again so fervently for all the support and care you offer me, I invite you into the scope of Global Solidarity Collective. Contact me through my email: cindy.corell@pcusa.org.

Join us to share in the suffering, to pray for justice, to work toward the Abundant Life for us all.

More information:

The Global Solidarity Collective (GSC) sheds light on the injustice our siblings around the world suffer every day. By delving into these issues that are not told by the media – often not even by the church – we come alongside our global partners in their pain and challenges. This article shares our aspirations as GSN moves forward: https://www.presbyterianmission.org/together-justice/2023/06/08/network-invites-us-to-build-harmony-bring-justice

Together for Justice blog – Presbyterian Hunger Program (PHP) https://www.presbyterianmission.org/together-justice/global-solidarity-collective

Find stories of how global partners examine the root causes of hunger and poverty and advocate for lasting change. Be inspired by what is being accomplished, not fearful of how great the problems are. https://www.presbyterianmission.org/together-justice

Cindy