As I lie watching the sun rise over the glistening palm trees, I wonder, what is the point of this war? Will it ever end? Is it just like the other 42 wars that have left this country in ruins? Not only do we have a volcano for a mother, a jaguar for a father but also a civil war for a brother. War has ruined my family and stolen my childhood. Why have we let it go on? The captain had no answer to my question; he himself fights to survive, not for the cause. The cause has long been forgotten; we are fighting the loyalists, but why, aren’t we all men? Does the logo of war really separate us that much? Today’s burial opened up an ocean of grief inside me; what had the dead men achieved in their short lives. Does Juan really believe in the war? How can his life’s ambition be to become the perfect solider? Why did he drop out of school to come here, to fight, and to give up any possibility of a better life in exchange for death? Even if this war is ever won, I’m sure that there will be another. The ruling class would become selfish, the lowly peasants would rise up again, and the vicious cycle would go on. Picture from: http://geology.com/news/images/tungurahua-volcano.jpg
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