He wasn't talking about bad hair or Duran Duran. Gael is a professor at a university in Georgia, and this was his response to my question, "when did you move to the states?"
That thing that happened in the 80's, (and in the 90's) is apparent everywhere that I have been in Central America. Contras, Sandinistas, FLMN, zapatistas. Different names in different places, all with similar history.
I remember hearing about the wars in the 80's. I remember being in middle school and my 9 yr old brother being glued to the Ollie North trials. I remember hearing about 'gorillas' in this far-away place. I had no idea that these far-away places weren't very far away.
Gorillas. Words are powerful. I knew they were speaking of men, not animals. But the images in my head were quite strong. Hairy, mud-covered men hiding in the forest shooting any moving being. Whispers and sneakiness. Che. Presently we hear the word in the media when talking about current wars and even in marketing. Gorillas.
In Spanish, the word for war is la guerra. This is the base word for 'guerrilla' , or fighter/militar. This conjures up a different image somehow, something more conservative, like a regular soldier. As if war could be conservative.
The 80's weren't very long ago. The war in El Salvador didn't end until the 90's which feels like it was just yesterday. It's been interesting to hear locals speak of this time period, especially the differences in thought among the rich and the poor, and the confusion and mixed feelings of the middle class. Life has changed in this not-so-far-away place for most Central Americans.
Gael's family had to make a decision and live with it. His father and sister stayed in Nicaragua while he and his mother immigrated illegally to the US. With the cost of airfare to Mexico and paying Coyotes for help crossing the Rio Grande, they could only choose one parent and one child. With the 100% likelihood that Gael would be drafted into the war at a very young age, his mother made this extremely difficult choice to leave her daughter and husband and save her son. Gael's mother pushed him to learn English and do well. He did. And Gael went to graduate school and now teaches international studies to some very lucky students.
And fortunately, his story has a happy ending- his sister and father joined them in south Florida ten years later. He says his sister always understood the choice. I can't imagine how difficult this must have been. The thought of not being around my brother for ten years leaves me gasping for breath. And this is just one of many many stories I've been listening to.
More of the good stuff later. For now, I'm trying to rewrite and redraw the pictures in my head to read "guerrilla". And learn again about that thing that happened in the 80's, while I had the freedom to have bad hair and listen to Duran Duran. Gael gave me his information, both in the states and here in Nicaragua. He hugged me as he and his cousin and student I jumped out of the back of the pick up.
"Please keep in touch! I need to feed off your energy," he said, as I was thinking the same thing about him, "and remember now you have family here in Nicaragua, too."
I may have to take one of his classes.
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