Tag Archives: Travel

Stuck between worlds, hoping I never have to choose.

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It’s my last night in Panama. My birth father and I are sitting at the dining room table eating dinner. My stepmother and sister are away, so it’s just us. As we finish, he looks at me and asks:

“So, are you Nelson or Roberto?”

I pause for a second before replying “Both.”

I don’t think I’ve always felt this way. When I first found out my birth name was Roberto, I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

“I don’t feel like a Roberto.” I would say to myself.

Over the years, as I grew closer to my family in Central America, the name grew on me as well. It even got to the point where I would secretly cringe when family in Central America called me by my American name. In this place I was Roberto.

Of course, the reverse was true in the US. There I could not be anyone other than Nelson. Occasionally when I told friends my birth name was Roberto, they would proclaim that they would start calling me that. To this day no one who has met me as Nelson has been able to call me Roberto. Even my Spanish speaking friends can’t make the transition.

Somewhere over the years I absorbed this other identity. I never changed who I was but I allowed this other world to become a part of me. Now, many years later, the two lives and worlds pull me in different directions.

So now what to do? Now that I have these two identities and two lives what do I do with them? I feel like the world wants me to pick.

“You can’t be both you have to choose one.”

I think somewhere deep down inside I am afraid that picking one of these lives means giving up the other.

From time to time my birth father asks when I am going to “settle down.” When I am going to get a job that is going to give me a stable base. I hesitate to tell him that I would not see him as much.

When I finished college, I worked a job that only gave me two weeks of vacation. Sure it provided security, but I sacrificed this whole other part of my life.

Of course, he has his own ideas. He would love for me to live there and work in the family business. Unfortunately, staying in Panama is an equally tough decision. I’ve realized many of the activities that I love are a lot easier to come by in the US. There is also the honest truth that there are more opportunities in the US than Panama.

I try to explain this to my father. I tell him how no matter where I go I’m always missing someone and the only solution I see is to always be traveling. I’m not sure if he understands. How can he? This is his world. There is no other life waiting for him in some far away land.

So here I am stuck. Stuck between worlds. Stuck between lives. One foot in US the other in Central America. One day I may have to choose but I hope, with all my heart, I never have to.

The Power of Culture

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During my life I’ve been exposed to many different cultures. I’ve been very fortunate to have lived and traveled to countries all over the world. This has been extremely fascinating because its given me insight into how people all over experience life.

The more I travel, the more I realize how powerful culture is and how much it defines us. It influences us in so many ways that we are not even aware of. I think cultural differences only become apparent when you are constantly being exposed to people in different countries, states and regions. You get to see the differences between the way they talk, dress, interact and even drive. Some of these differences are easy to spot but most are often so subtle that we don’t even realize it is culture.

When I first started going to Central America I noticed that many men and women made stiff hand gestures. When talking or resting, their hands seemed rigid as if they all had arthritis. At first I assumed this was the case because people here work more with their hands. As I spent more time in Central America I started to notice more people making the same gestures; people of all ages who weren’t old enough to have arthritis and didn’t work manual labor jobs. My next thought was that perhaps this was due to culture.

I know that people often share accents, but could they be sharing physical gestures as well? I had never heard about this happening before, but the more time I spent in Central America, the more it seemed to make sense. If this is the case, it’s fascinating to think that culture can influence us on such an unconscious level.

Culture effects everything from how we talk and move to the way we think. In my experience, the way culture impacts our thinking can be both good and bad. It’s good because we need various view points for new and incredible breakthroughs to happen. However, it can be bad because it can build barriers between people and ideas.

When people are confronted with an idea that is outside their cultural expectations it can be hard for them to accept, even if this new idea could help them. This can be very challenging when you are trying to help people and share a different perspective on a problem. It can also make people feel torn between worlds or ideas. Working through cultural differences can be very challenging and can take a long time.

Over the next couple of posts I want to share both my good and bad experiences with culture and the role it plays in our lives. I’ll talk about how growing up in multiple cultures shaped my world view and how I’ve noticed that people can struggle to accept the cultural expectations that have been placed on them.

I’d love to know how you think culture influences your life.

Return to El Salvador: The Escobars

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For most of the past 12 years I have gotten to know my father’s side of the family more than my mother’s. This is because I usually stay with my father and sister. My family there is very “Coto,” and it’s easy to see how similar we are. When I first met my family, I noticed right away that the Cotos walk the same. We have a distinctive duck waddle that is easy to spot when we are together. The more time I spend with my bother, sisters and father, the more of these traits I have noticed.

Since most of the Escobars are still in El Salvador, I haven’t had a chance to get to know them as well. During this trip I really got to see what the other side of the family was like.

One night after going out to eat Pupusas, a typical Salvadoran dish, we stopped by my Aunt Haydee’s house. As she was talking, I noticed right away that my brother Ernesto and she make very similar facial movements. I chuckled a little and hoped she didn’t notice. I could just picture Ernesto making the same face.

I looked over to my aunt Tita on the couch and there she was, sitting just as I would. Back to a corner, one arm stretched resting on the sofa back, the other in the air supporting her head. Up until that point I always thought my mannerisms came exclusively from my father’s side. It was nice to see one from my mother.

I’ve often wondered what else I got from my mother. Looking so much like my father, I thought a lot of my personality might have come from her. Watching the family interact, I got to see their characteristics. My Aunt Tita and her daughters are warm, fun loving, and silly. My Aunt Dalilla and her sons are more quiet, reserved, and pensive. What a wide range of personalities! I definitely see these same traits in myself. It appears my hunch was correct, I am very much an Escobar.

That weekend was my cousin’s wedding. It was one of the reasons that I decided to go back to El Salvador. In attendance were all but one of my aunts and cousins I had not seen in 12 years. Some of them resembled my sister and her daughter. Others reminded me of my late grandmother. My cousin Cesar bares a striking resemblance to Ernesto. He was there with his wife, daughter, and newborn son. Again I’m reminded of the life I might have had. We danced and laughed the whole night.

Besides figuring out which family members looked alike, I also learned more about our family history. I learned that my grandfather, Hector Escobar, worked in construction and even helped build the Panama Canal. It’s very cool to think that our family had a small part to play in its creation.

Getting to know the Escobars was a lot of fun. I got to see another side of my family and myself.

Return to El Salvador: Exporting Americanism

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“Welcome to San Salvador,” says my cousin as we reach the city limits.

“Now, roll up your windows.”

One reason I hesitated to return to El Salvador was the fact it’s not as safe as Costa Rica or Panama. It is still a post war society, and riding down the streets this is very clear. Most major establishments have armed guards outside; “vigilantes” as they are called by the locals. The fire arm of choice seems to be a shotgun the size of my arm. It makes me uneasy and very conscious about my personal belongings. The guns are meant to scare robbers, but I find they have the reverse effect. They intimidate the very people they are meant to protect.

My first outing in San Salvador was to a flea market to pick up some decorations for my younger cousin’s wedding. It’s an interesting place with lots of people and stuff to look at. I wanted to take a picture of everything, but I didn’t bring my camera. I didn’t know if I could walk around here with it, so I thought I better not take the chance. What a big contrast from my visit to London earlier this year. There, I walked all over the place taking pictures and never once had to think about personal safety.

We left the flea market and headed toward the mall. “Empire state of mind” by Jay-Z was playing on the radio. Less than two weeks ago I was in NYC, one of the biggest global hubs, walking through Times Square listening to this very song. Now I’m driving down the streets of a Latin America, in a country that the world has pretty much forgotten about.

Listening to this song reminds me of my first visit here, 12 years ago. My adoptive parents and I went to a remote village in El Salvador because they were sponsoring a child there. As we walked down the dirt roads I heard “California love” by Tupac Shakur playing in the distance; a song I listened to a lot back then. I remember it amazed me how this tiny little village in El Salvador had the same music as I did. It was the first time I experienced the reach of American culture.

12 years later, I’m walking around the mall I again and I notice America’s reach. Many of the people here are very fashionably dressed. This is not the first time I have seen a culture of fashion in Latin America. San Jose, Costa Rica is also a fashionable city. However, this is different. The fashion in Costa Rica is Latin, whereas the fashion here is “western.” There are hairstyles and clothing that I’ve only seen in the US. When I point this out to my cousin she commented that it could be because of all the Salvadorans in there. It seems they are not only sending money to their families back home but also culture.

It’s fascinating to think that our biggest export in America might not be goods or services, but culture. Our music, fashion and way of thinking reaches all corners of the globe, infecting the people who live there. People in countries where the “American Dream” is a lot harder to come by. People who have to constantly worry about the well being of themselves and their family.

How ironic, we spread Americanism to all corners of the world and then turn away the very people who buy into it.

Returning to El Salvador: The Life I Might Have Had

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It has been 12 years since I last set foot in El Salvador. When I first came, I was 17, I didn’t speak any spanish, and had just met my birth family the year before. My adoptive parents, my brother and I had decided to spend the holidays of 1998 touring Central America. We went to Panama, Costa Rica and then El Salvador. I don’t remember much from back then, only meeting lots of people who looked like me that I knew little about. I had a feeling this time it would be very different.

As my plane made its final decent, we flew past the city and out towards the coast. We headed out to sea, as if we only passing by this tiny country, the same size and population of Massachusetts. Over clear blue waters we did a 180 degree turn and headed back toward land. Moderate winds bounced us up and down some as we got closer to the runway. Instead of thickly settled housing I saw small shacks and green fields. Instead of grid locked city traffic I saw famers on horse back.

I got off the plane and headed toward customs. An agent greeted us and directed us into the appropriate lines. She asked me if I was Salvadoran and with a little smirk on my face I replied no. After sorting through all the days luggage at the only operational baggage carousel, I was on my way. Walking out of the airport I was confronted by a couple hundred people waiting for various family members to arrive. This was a little overwhelming, but luckily I found my cousin without any difficulty. We then made the 45 minute drive back into the city.

That night my cousin, her two sisters and my aunt took me out for buffalo wings. Watching the three of them interact and joke around reminded me of me and my siblings. They seemed so close and…almost normal. Then a strange thought hit me. Am I looking at the life I could have had? Is this what it would have been like if we had never been separated?

Rarely do we get to experience “what could have been.” We often imagine how our lives might have turned out, but to be confronted by it is something else entirely.

It made me question the choices my parents made. El Salvador is still a mess. There is still a lot of crime, violence and lack of opportunity. Did the revolution really change anything? If they had not joined, would it have mattered? My aunts and uncles didn’t fight and their lives seemed to turn out alright. I’m sure life in El Salvador isn’t easy, but at least they have each other. At least they are together.

The Hardest Question to Answer: What’s next?

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Funding Graph

After an amazing ending to our Kickstarter project, people have been asking me “What’s next?”.

It’s a great question and a hard one to answer. How do we keep up the momentum and gain more support for our project? Films are typically done with little or no interaction from the outside world. Is there a way we can include everyone in the making of this film?

We would love to make the filming process as interesting and engaging as possible. This is something John and I have been talking about at length. We have some ideas about how to accomplish this. For example we want to broadcast as many of our interviews as we can over the internet. This allows everyone to watch and ask questions during each interview. We might do this in a type of web series. We are still trying to figure out what the format of this type of show would be.

I wish I had more of a concrete idea about all of this, but I think this is part of the process. This type of interactive filmmaking is a very new concept, and it’s hard to say what the correct approach should be.

Looking for ideas

Keeping to the ideals of the project, we would love to hear your feedback about any aspect of this project. What would you like to hear about? What would you like to be part of? What parts of the story are most interesting to you?

I’ve talked with friends about everything from what the web series would look like to a music score or the film. If you have some ideas or questions I would love to hear them. Please feel free to contact myself or John if you want to talk about anything.

A Week in El Salvador

This week I’m in El Salvador visiting family. I’m going to go through old family photos and build a list of people to interview. It’s been really interesting reconnecting with everyone. I even learned that my grandfather helped build the Panama Canal!

I’ll have more thoughts and photos from my trip in the next couple days. Hope everyone is doing well and is getting excited for the holidays.