By
Jennifer Hsieh
On January 20, 2005,
I made my second trip to El Salvador as part of Tzu Chi's
ongoing earthquake relief efforts since 2001. Cheered by the
thought of revisiting the approximately 2,000 homes located
in Tzu Chi's Great Love villages, believing I had seen the
best, and the worst of El Salvadorian life on my previous
visit: I expected only a slight emotional shake-up, and spiritual
development. How wrong could I be? As I wound down from the
trip, I became aware of a greater passion for my life, and
a firmer, more solid footing on my lifelong journey with Tzu
Chi.
Villagers on Water
January 21. 2005: Having boarded our van,
we headed towards the "Village on Water". I held
a naïve playful-like notion that it could resemble the
city of Venice; I could not have been more startled than when
we drove into the neighborhood.
Our van inched slowly through a very narrow
alley until finally, there before us was an almost indescribable
sight. As I stepped down out of the van, the overpowering,
nauseating smell of decaying trash engulfed me. We were informed
that the village functioned fine during low tide, but often
the water rose and flooded the homes, bringing trash to the
surface and leaving a permanent hideous odor.
At the entrance of the Cideco village, I
faintly heard Brother Peter Yao advising the group to split
up into two teams of six, as the bridge that lay ahead may
not be strong enough to support all of us at the same time.
Mechanically, I walked across the bridge with the group, too
preoccupied to think of anything but our survival. Composed
of long, thin sticks bound together, the bridge wobbled so
much that I gripped the railing tightly. The long thin stick,
which was the railing, appeared to be close to breaking point.
My trepidation grew by the second as I saw
huts walled with torn plastic bags and pieces of cardboard,
looking more pitiful than the most battered tent I have ever
laid eyes on. There was filth-ridden clutter that would make
the dirtiest junkyard in the United States a palace by comparison;
an endless cluster of these huts for as far as the eye could
see.
I was convinced only a war zone could look
so appalling. No one wore shoes, and people were so unbelievably
messy and ragged, that my clean white pants seemed contemptuously
extravagant. A man walked by below the bridge, treading in
muddy water with trash everywhere, a pigsty was nearby, and
a child used his cupped hand to sip from an outdoor basin
containing what appeared to be rainwater. Inside one of these
tiny huts, four soiled, hole-ridden hammocks were hung and
used as beds, and rice bags were stitched together to be used
as blankets.
I fought hard to conceal my intense sorrow;
at length we got back into the van. I managed to maintain
my composure, until Brother Martín commented that we
had seen the "best" and more normal families, he
had not wanted to overwhelm us. In actuality, rape, incest,
and substance abuse was prevalent in these communities, mainly
because very often three to four generations of families lived
together in these horrible conditions. Martín's next
words became inaudible to me, because his description of cruelty
was so unbearable, I blotted out the sound and I began to
silently cry uncontrollably.
However, I remembered their innocent smiles,
and thought to myself that ignorance is indeed bliss; they
would probably never leave the village, and would know no
better.
Only Miles Away, But A Whole Different
World: Villa de Tzu Chi
Hundreds congregated at Tzu Chi village
to attend the grand opening of its new job-training center.
When the first lady of El Salvador arrived and walked down
the aisle, the uproar and the wild waving of Tzu Chi and El
Salvadorian flags by hundreds of schoolchildren made the atmosphere
so incredibly cheerful. The children who lived in Tzu Chi
village, wore uniforms and shoes; they showed such carefree
jolliness that I was reminded of the contrast between them
and the villagers on water. I knew then that Tzu Chi had made
a world of difference and I was grateful to be a part of it.
More importantly, Tzu Chi not only bettered lives but also
opened up hearts.
We were told that the villagers gathered
and raised money for Tsunami victims, and the locals enthusiastically
participated. Although they were poor, they were grand at
heart, giving the little they had, and helping others, was
their way of expressing their thanks and appreciation, and
a way of repaying Tzu Chi for helping them.
Lessons Learned Along the Tzu Chi Path
Although sleep-deprived for the majority
of the trip, I relished every minute with my Tzu Chi family.
I was most grateful for the hard-working local volunteers,
especially Inéz and Martín, who seldom slept,
yet were the last to claim credit; Aunt Huei Ju, for bringing
me into Tzu Chi about eight years ago; Mary, for bringing
me back into full swing, Mary and Aunt Hui Ju's dedication
inspires me to this very day; Peter and Yuru, for their willingness
to sacrifice worldly successes for a life of contributions
to Tzu Chi; Frances, for winning over crowds with her graceful
elegance as emcee; James, for conducting a workshop so engaging
that all the students refused to leave; and my adoring roommates,
Liyun and Lijen, for long chats and laughs until the wee hours,
as if we would never meet again, even though we live in the
same neighborhood.
Profile of a Leader
Finally, I must pay tribute to Austin Tsao,
CEO of Tzu Chi USA, for the spiritual lessons learned, ironically
less through his precious words of wisdom than through his
carrying them out in real life. I had had little contact with
Austin until now, and I found him soft-spoken, humble, so
low-key, and so unconcerned with drawing attention to himself,
that his prominence at Tzu Chi would easily go unnoticed.
It is against this backdrop that Austin gave his opening address
on January 22, 2005, the day of our medical outreach. Like
Master Cheng Yen, he used simple, unembellished language,
and yet in doing so, he powerfully touched their hearts. He
spoke not about how great Tzu Chi was, and how many people
we have saved and helped; instead he told them that we felt
their pain and suffered their sorrows, and thanked them for
the opportunity to serve and heal them. I have sat through
thousands of speeches in my day, but never before witnessed
one where they clapped after EVERY sentence uttered from beginning
to end (thanks partly to Frances' superb translation); and
that same air of gratitude lingered throughout the sign language
performance that followed.
A similar phenomenon occurred at the January
24th grand opening ceremony for the job-training center. Austin's
speech was followed by tours of the facilities, and various
other events; and nearly an hour later we headed towards our
bus. Suddenly I saw a group of schoolchildren running up to
Austin. Through France's translation, I heard one child say
that they were so grateful to Tzu Chi because they lost their
homes, had neither water nor electricity, and Tzu Chi helped
them to recover everything and so much more. Instantly I teared
up, as I knew these were truly heart-spoken words of gratitude.
Again I could not recall an instance in the past where the
people we helped, mostly under-privileged with low self-esteem,
had the courage to speak to our head "hero." I could
not help but think that it must be Austin's completely non-imposing
and benevolent air that made him so approachable. Later Austin
sat with the kids and asked them what they wanted to become.
Austin encouraged them by telling them that Master started
forty years ago by saving twenty cents per day, and dreaming
big dreams of improving lives, so they could also accomplish
great things.
My previous notion of leadership revolved
around high-powered executives, who exuded the dazzling presence
of being "the best & the brightest" and the
"next big, big thing." Austin is the complete antithesis,
yet I could not but be in awe of Master's foresight and wisdom
in selecting him to lead Tzu Chi USA, because he wholly radiates
Master's grace, and mirrors Master's leadership by example.
Knowing Austin's unassuming demeanor, I expect little to be
written about his persona and thus felt obliged to share more
of my observations so that we could all feel proud in having
the guidance of a true leader:
-
In a video we watched during volunteer training, a little
girl was completely intimidated by Master Cheng Yen. Master
gently patted her and reassured in a motherly voice, "Don't
be afraid. I won't hurt you." Similarly, perhaps Austin
saw that some, like myself, felt intimidated by him, so he
made little jokes (i.e. nicknaming me "Jenni-fol,"
because Buddha is pronounced "fol" in Mandarin),
he signaled for us to sit next to him, and recalled little
details about each of us, details we would not expect him
to remember.
-
While walking through village homes, we happened upon an old
man with an infected toe. Austin and Peter Yao disregarded
their high status, crouched over the man, cleaned his foot
with tissue, and applied ointment medication. It is as Austin
taught us: minimize your sense of self down to a grain of
sand, and find power in operating in the realm of nanotech.
-
He accepted the CEO post from Master and moved to Los Angeles
years ago while his family remained in Northern California.
It will be ten years until they can reunite, when his wife
retires. One can imagine the sacrifices made by each family
member, particularly Austin, who left the responsibility of
raising their daughter to his wife. Yet, when I asked merely
in passing whether it had been difficult for him, Austin did
not voice a single word of complaint. Like Master's teaching,
he contributes his life to Tzu Chi enthusiastically, and in
the same spirit, he gladly accepts the imperfections that
come with it.
A Surprise Visitor in a Foreign Land
January 24, 2005: At last, we wrapped up
the grand opening, the last agenda item on this El Salvador
trip. Our bus made several stops in the Tzu Chi village, and
while we waited in the bus, I heard someone asking for "Jenny".
After ignoring it several times, because I did not go by Jenny
and simply did not have friends in this land, I opened the
curtains and saw Xiomarra waiting outside!
Two days before during our medical outreach, I played with
Xiomarra and having no gifts, gave her a pair of Hello Kitty
chopsticks from my Tzu Chi dining ware. It turned out that
she resided in Tzu Chi village and heard afterwards about
the Tzu Chi grand opening, so she went all around searching
for me.
We only talked for a few minutes before our bus was ready
to leave. I hugged her tightly and refused to let myself cry.
Xiomarra waved and blew kisses as we drove off: I wiped away
a tear when she disappeared from sight, and wondered if I
would ever see her again.
I was reminded of the Tzu Chi song about
love that "transcends all boundaries". With thousands
of people like Xiomarra in El Salvador, we came together because
our love transcended the boundaries of race, religion, and
language. As with the universal calling of all Tzu Chi people,
we will continue spreading that love to every corner of the
world until that very day when humanity will prevail, and
hearts will unite to attain peace on earth.
