One of the biggest complaints of Americans living in El Salvador is the noise. Roosters, trucks, dogs, children, and a laundry list of other obnoxious sounds tagteam your eardrums to the point were you can't take it anymore. I haven't decided whether Salvadorans have developed a super human strength at blocking things out, or they've never developed the concept of loud noises being annoying in the first place. I've yet to see it, but I'm certain that a Salvy baby could slumber peacefully while occupying the same room as a running chainsaw. They're that good.
This phenomenon is particularly relevant during the month of February. It's election season, and the cacophony is swelling. Sometime, long ago, a Salvadoran politician decided that there was a congruous relationship between political vitality and noise: the more noise a campaign makes, the more successful it will be. Candidates plaster pick up trucks with their own faces and party colors. In the bed of the pick up are two massive speakers, turned up to arena rock decimal levels, blasting their political aspirations and theme music into the head of any innocent bystander lucky enough to lie in their wake. You're sitting with your friends, having a nice afternoon chat when you're instantly transported to the front row of the worst concert of your life.
In order to eloquently state their political cause, many local candidates have resorted to the purest of all art forms: karaoke. Their ingenious political advisors have found the instrumentals to well-known pop songs like Darte un beso, hijacked the melody and superimposed their wild array of grandiose accolades and political promises. Living in a small Salvadoran town embroiled in a close political race is like owning an ipod filled with six of the worst songs imaginable, and being forced to listen to them of shuffle for a month straight.
But my question is, if Salvadorans are so good at ignoring the existence of heinous sound waves, why do candidates still blast their message to potencial voters in hopes of being heard? I think that this realization makes it all the more depressing. All this constant, aggressive, all-out audio assault and it most likely changes nothing.
As a representative of the United States government, I'm disallowed to engage in Salvadoran politics and I must flee any situations that could be considered even remotely partisan. On a certain level it's nice to see groups of people unified in a cause and exercising their right to vote, a right that many had to wage a long and bloody civil war in order to obtain. However, I can't help but find it all distasteful.
It's not just the noise. It's the combative partisanship, the impossible promises, the clientelism, and the naïve belief that, if elected, one person will single-handedly solve all of the community's problems that makes me feel disenchanted with the political process as a whole.
In a way, I find being a volunteer forcibly removed from politics quite therapeutic. Who ever wins on March 1st, whether they're left, right or ambidextrous, I must work with them, something that a lot of people here will not do on principle in order to show allegiance to their hapless political party. This leads to deeply partisan communities and increased inefficiency as large sections of the community are obstinate to collaborate.
Soon that will all change with the recent passage of the legislative reform known as Consejos municipales plurales, or Pluralistic Municipal Councils. Under this reform, candidates who've lost the mayoral elections in their municipality will be afforded the opportunity to occupy a position on the winning mayoral candidate's council. The hope is that the integration of minority political parties with cut down partisanship and encourage political parties to work together for the good of their communities. It's an ambitious political reform that will no doubt create trouble and controversy when it is implemented next election cycle, but it's a creative approach to solve an obvious problem.
Who knows, maybe a less partisan political environment will even allow me to sleep at night.
