Enrique's Writings

The Atecozol River is a mighty body of water originating from the Izalco Volcano, the youngest volcano in the world. Its name, in Nahuatl, means “place of the black sands” or “place of obsidian” (itz = obsidian, calli = house/place). Rising 1,950 meters above sea level, with an inclination of around 45°, this volcano remains active, its commanding presence standing proudly amid the thick vegetation that surrounds it. Along its course, the river is fed by natural springs, known for their fresh, crystal-clear water. These springs give the river a cold, steady flow that endures throughout the year. At the foot of the volcano lies the town of the same name: Izalco. A place rich in history, it has been home to human presence for over 2,000 years. Izalco was originally founded by the Pipil people (Nahuatl), a Mesoamerican Indigenous group primarily residing in western and central El Salvador. They speak the critically endangered Nahuatl language and were once part of the historic Kingdom of ...

The first summer in our adopted new country couldn’t have arrived soon enough. Our small family had arrived in mid-January, at the very beginning of our first Canadian winter. As government-sponsored refugees, we did receive winter clothing. However, none of us had ever endured sub-zero weather before. By the time spring finally arrived, and then summer, we were exhausted, longing to be outside and eager to enjoy the warm weather. With the arrival of summer came the need to secure daycare for the children. Until then, they had been attending school while their parents studied English as a Second Language (ESL). Fortunately for us, the school the children attended had a daycare attached to it that operated year-round and was accepting new participants. On the first day of summer, I walked with my six-year-old daughter to drop her off at daycare. As we approached the building, I overheard someone in the neighborhood shouting something I couldn’t quite understand, though it sounded f...

I met Danny in the mid-nineties, when I was working as a housing worker in what was then the newest and largest non-profit housing development ever built in Toronto. Little did I know that, years later, Danny would teach me one of the most profound lessons of my career in community development. At the time, we tried to house him in the newly opened building. Danny had been living in another housing project owned and operated by Homes First Society called Street City. The newer project was located between Jarvis and George Streets, just north of Dundas Street. It was a vast complex of four buildings surrounding a shared central courtyard: two cooperatives and two non-profit housing projects, totaling almost three hundred units. Each building was managed by a different organization. Homes First Society, the organization I worked for, managed one of them9 Jarvis Street on behalf of a coalition of nonprofit organizations led by the Church of the Holy Trinity. The building was named Mar...