An Equal Apocalypse

Salvadoran citizen Ermelina Ramirez cooks pupusas in her home in Ahuachapán, El Salvador while plastic bottles full of collected rainwater line the counter in front of her on Wednesday, April 13. (Katheryne Menendez | The Corsair)

Every winter, Salvadoran citizen Ermlinda Ramirez and her family fill as many bottles and containers as they possibly can with rainwater. Year-round, bottles of shiny glass and multicolored plastic line every corner and crevice of the family’s house. As winter comes to an end, the family must prepare to weather the dry arid climate of summer. 

Ramirez, my grandmother, was born and raised in Ahuchapán, a rural town near the Guatemalan-Salvadoran border. My mother, Ramirez’s daughter, as well as the majority of my family, spent the majority of their lives in a small Central American country with fertile highlands and lush forests. Their upbringings were marked not only by rich cultural practices and beautiful landscapes, but also by war, poverty, and violence. Water in El Salvador was never guaranteed. When running water was not available, access to water relied on water that had been collected prior. They use pilas, or water basins, as well as spare bottles and containers for storing water used for anything from drinking, showering, to washing dishes, preparing food, and cooking. 

In their adulthood, both of my parents immigrated to the United States in order to support their families back home. Hence, my sister and I were born in the United States, and live very different lives than the ones my parents lived. During spring break, I had the privilege of being able to travel to El Salvador to visit my family. But besides the excitement of exploring a new place and spending time with my family, I witnessed many Salvadorans living without access to essential resources. 

Before collecting rainwater, my family used to get water from El Rio Paz, a river that flows through my family’s property. Around the same time, pollution from factories, industrial agriculture, trash, and mining has made a lot of water sources unusable. In a 2020 Report on the nation’s rivers, the Salvadoran Ministry of the Environment reported that 71.3 percent of sites evaluated had water quality classified as “bad.” So my family has resorted to collecting rainwater, and when their income allows, buying bottled water. 

According to the Salvadoran University Institute’s Water Bulletin, water crisis affects 90.6 percent of the Salvadoran population. Meanwhile, 99.2 percent of the U.S. population has continuous access to potable water. As we have more and more discussions about the climate crisis and the environment, it is important to remember an important fact: environmental issues will impact the disenfranchised the most. As Earth Day 2022 falls on Friday, April 22, let us remember that the poorest people worldwide continue to suffer the most from the climate issue. It is our role as members of this planet to hold the politicians and companies that are polluting our earth accountable, and collectively reducing our waste. The privileged in regards to the climate crisis, such as myself, do not have to worry about daily access to usable water, food, and shelter. It is time we use our voice to stand for the voiceless, whose homes and livelihoods are being impacted more than we can ever imagine.