It´s here. The raining season has officially started. And no one needed to tell me, ¨Gringa, es invierno. Va a llover todos los dias!¨ Instead, the clouds have dumped bucket upon bucket for the past week and there is an ever present puddle on the left side of my fridge. Those misty mornings turned into torential (why can´t i spell anymore?) downpours, washing away my poetic moments of cloud watching at 6am.
You can compare the sound that echos in my cement house with tin roofing to 50 drums being banged simultaneously, inches from your face. Its loud. Anyone who has tried talking to me on the phone while its raining can guage for that.
Besides for the hours I go questioning if I have lost my hearing, the only other major downside of the rainy season is the fact that your clothes don´t dry. I urge anyone down here NOT to wait 2 weeks to wash nearly all of your clothes...its a struggle to find something to wear right now. My clothes have been on the line, inside my house, for 3 days, and show no signs of drying.
So, being that I have to pack all these clothes to go to San Vi for the next 3 weeks, I decided to lug them into the nearest town to find a drying machine. After much skepticism from everyone in my canton, I finally stumbled upon a Lavanderia. With a drying machine!! I was shocked to see it. After 4 months of handwashing, I had begun to believe the whole world used a stone and their strong hand to clean their ropa. I shall head back there shortly, to see if it is true. That clothes CAN dry in the rainy season.
Besides for the rain, I´d just like to reflect on Awkward Moments. Is there every a day without them?
My counterparts granddaughter decided the other day, that she was craving some milk. Breast milk that is. And after much whining, her mom finally gave in a whipped out her right side. Mind you, the little girl is 3 years old. But she was satisfied when she soon realized her mom was not lying. ¨Y Usted tampoco?¨ She asked me. No, me neither.
I have given in to spitting on the floor. I brushed my teeth the other night in my bedroom. I brushed and I spit toothpastey water all over my floor. It was kinda nice. Liberating.
Vendedors on the bus can sell ANYTHING. I giggle to myself everytime they come on and I hear their pitch. ¨Think 1 dollar is too expensive for this pen, well I will give you 2 pens. Still too much, well I´ll give you 3!¨ But nothing excites the ppl more than when he brings out the highlighter.
And now I head back out to get pelted by the rain.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Living in the Desert
This Friday marks the last day at my site, for 3 weeks. Our group is heading back to San Vicente for 3 weeks of training.
While I´m excited to see everyone again, it´s going to be weird to go back to the training classes. Where days are structured, there is a lot of speaking English and I live with my host family.
I´m worried my Artesania class will fall apart while I´m gone for 3 weeks, but I do have a lot of faith in my community.
I run out of things to say in my blog, and I fear that this is because the novelty has begun to wear off. I still pause and watch the cows in the morning, and now the newly born baby horse, on my way back from the letrine. And I still enjoy yoga in front of the misty mountains just before 7am. But less and less mangos fall from the trees. The exhilaration from being on the back of a pick-up is gone. And I can safely say my taste buds have gone numb to eggs, beans and pupusas.
I have a long list of projects that my community wants to work on when I return in the end of June. Hopefully that will bring some new excitement.
In the meantime, I live vicariously through emails from home and photos on facebook.
It´s weird to think of summertime in NY without being there. I am desperately nostalgic. The May weather. The flowers and rain. The end of school. Parties in my over ground knee-deep pool :) Train rides to the city with half of pleasantville. Hot morning bagels. Cold afternoon ice coffee. Dinner with friends. Sun bathing... on pavement in NY.... or Martha´s Vineyard! and I can´t even begin to think about the chicken fingers at the diner (preferrably at 4am)...
But ah, alas, I am still in El Salvador. Where the weather ranges from really hot and humid, to slightly hot and humid. Where you complain about the dry weather, because the dust burns your throat and eyes. And you complain when it rains, for you can hardly walk in the mud. Where there is no variation in the food, and no parties for anyone except the bolos. Where coffee grows nearby in the mountains, but the only thing people drink is ¨NesCafe Instant Coffee¨.
So I think back to the reasons I joined. And bit by bit it comes together. I think of another Paulo Coehlo line, ¨Maybe the desert was created so we appreciate the date trees¨.
While I´m excited to see everyone again, it´s going to be weird to go back to the training classes. Where days are structured, there is a lot of speaking English and I live with my host family.
I´m worried my Artesania class will fall apart while I´m gone for 3 weeks, but I do have a lot of faith in my community.
I run out of things to say in my blog, and I fear that this is because the novelty has begun to wear off. I still pause and watch the cows in the morning, and now the newly born baby horse, on my way back from the letrine. And I still enjoy yoga in front of the misty mountains just before 7am. But less and less mangos fall from the trees. The exhilaration from being on the back of a pick-up is gone. And I can safely say my taste buds have gone numb to eggs, beans and pupusas.
I have a long list of projects that my community wants to work on when I return in the end of June. Hopefully that will bring some new excitement.
In the meantime, I live vicariously through emails from home and photos on facebook.
It´s weird to think of summertime in NY without being there. I am desperately nostalgic. The May weather. The flowers and rain. The end of school. Parties in my over ground knee-deep pool :) Train rides to the city with half of pleasantville. Hot morning bagels. Cold afternoon ice coffee. Dinner with friends. Sun bathing... on pavement in NY.... or Martha´s Vineyard! and I can´t even begin to think about the chicken fingers at the diner (preferrably at 4am)...
But ah, alas, I am still in El Salvador. Where the weather ranges from really hot and humid, to slightly hot and humid. Where you complain about the dry weather, because the dust burns your throat and eyes. And you complain when it rains, for you can hardly walk in the mud. Where there is no variation in the food, and no parties for anyone except the bolos. Where coffee grows nearby in the mountains, but the only thing people drink is ¨NesCafe Instant Coffee¨.
So I think back to the reasons I joined. And bit by bit it comes together. I think of another Paulo Coehlo line, ¨Maybe the desert was created so we appreciate the date trees¨.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
A Journey
A Journey:
I was headed to Jocoro, normally about a 2 hour bus ride from my site, to visit a friend who is a volunteer there. He has art classes and I would like to have the same at my site, so I was excited to observe. I waited out front of my house for the bus, but a pick-up came first. There were people in the back so I decided it was safe to hop on.
Since the closest spots to the cab were taken, I clung for dear life on the back corner of the truck, clenching my bag between my legs and occasionally daring to lift a hand to readjust my dress. In the nearest pueblo we lost most of the passengers (by choice, they didn´t fall) and I was starting to get comfortable. By this I mean I had lost feeling in my thighs, my backside was numb and my neck was stuck slightly cocked over my right shoulder. But I had the best seat in the back of the truck. Just then, it started to rain. Luckily, the driver pulled over and let me get inside the car. I was hesitant, but there was a little old lady in the front so I figured it was safe. Also fortunate, I could get a right practically all the way to Jocoro.
Once there, or at the diez y ocho, I waited in the pouring rain for the bus to take me to Brian´s site. Many people asked for my umbrella, and while I was slightly ashamed to be the only one sheltered by the rain, I wasn´t about to give it up. I was in a dress! I quickly boarded the bus, leaving behind a slew of dripping Salvadorans at my heels, only to sit down next to a lady who was either drunk, crazy or I had hit one too many bumps in the back of that pick up. The 10 min bus ride consisted of me buying some weird fruit filled marshmallow that was placed on my lap by a cute 6 year old boy that I coudln´t turn away, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the lady screaming profanities in my direction, and taking only the minimum breaths possible to keep my blood pumping, as I´m pretty sure someone on the bus had pee´d themselves.
I was entralled when I finally reached my destination, despite my very dirty feet, wet dress and the awkward taste that coated my mouth after the marshmallow ¨treat¨.
The art class and visit were what was expected. Now that I´ve reached the point of my journey... let me get on to the travel home.
Seeing it was 3:30, I knew I had to catch the very next bus from the diez y ocho, for the last bus from the pueblo to my canton was at 6. I patiently waited, as someone who I thought was a nice young man, advised me when the next bus was coming. He worked for the bus route and was explaining how soon all the buses would use tickets, to be more accurate, blah blah. And certain as the sun sets, the conversation ended with him hitting on me and me feeling extremely awkward and without an emergency exit route. When the bus pulled up, I practically cried in relief and spent most of the bus ride praying I never encounter that man again. Note: do not wear dresses while traveling ever again.
The second bus, on the way to my pueblo, I sat next to another seemingly nice ¨lady¨ (well she had a mustache). She lived in my pueblo and was a kindergarten teacher there. We talked for a long time and I concluded she was very nice... but was also questionably hitting on me. She gave me her number, and I took it, just glad I didnt have to give her mine. We pulled up at the pueblo at 5:58 and she watched me longingly as I sprinted for the next bus......which pulled away just as I arrived. I took out my phone, ready to call my new ¨friend¨ when I remembered I knew someone who lived on the corner. The problem was really that my dog was alone in my house. The guy on the corner was the first genuine Salvadoran encounter I had all day, and he, gracias a dios, had a friend with a pick up who was heading to my canton.
And so the story ends as it started. Me on the back of a pickup heading to my house. This time, I was surrounded by approx 30 men coming home from the fields, and I was in no mood to talk, or should I say be harassed. I stood in the corner, looking up at the sky, thankful that I would make it home before the last ray of light.
I hopped off at my counterparts house, not wanting the herd of men to see where my house was located, and then ran home to my Barro. He had successfully eaten everything in the garbage, including half a styrofoam plate, a new sponge from my shelf and had finished chewing up the sandal he had started on yesterday, but he did manage to poop (solid!) only inches from the door. And so I was happy. I collapsed on my bed at 7pm.
Whoever said, ¨Its not the destination, its the journey¨ must have served in peace corps el salvador.
I was headed to Jocoro, normally about a 2 hour bus ride from my site, to visit a friend who is a volunteer there. He has art classes and I would like to have the same at my site, so I was excited to observe. I waited out front of my house for the bus, but a pick-up came first. There were people in the back so I decided it was safe to hop on.
Since the closest spots to the cab were taken, I clung for dear life on the back corner of the truck, clenching my bag between my legs and occasionally daring to lift a hand to readjust my dress. In the nearest pueblo we lost most of the passengers (by choice, they didn´t fall) and I was starting to get comfortable. By this I mean I had lost feeling in my thighs, my backside was numb and my neck was stuck slightly cocked over my right shoulder. But I had the best seat in the back of the truck. Just then, it started to rain. Luckily, the driver pulled over and let me get inside the car. I was hesitant, but there was a little old lady in the front so I figured it was safe. Also fortunate, I could get a right practically all the way to Jocoro.
Once there, or at the diez y ocho, I waited in the pouring rain for the bus to take me to Brian´s site. Many people asked for my umbrella, and while I was slightly ashamed to be the only one sheltered by the rain, I wasn´t about to give it up. I was in a dress! I quickly boarded the bus, leaving behind a slew of dripping Salvadorans at my heels, only to sit down next to a lady who was either drunk, crazy or I had hit one too many bumps in the back of that pick up. The 10 min bus ride consisted of me buying some weird fruit filled marshmallow that was placed on my lap by a cute 6 year old boy that I coudln´t turn away, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the lady screaming profanities in my direction, and taking only the minimum breaths possible to keep my blood pumping, as I´m pretty sure someone on the bus had pee´d themselves.
I was entralled when I finally reached my destination, despite my very dirty feet, wet dress and the awkward taste that coated my mouth after the marshmallow ¨treat¨.
The art class and visit were what was expected. Now that I´ve reached the point of my journey... let me get on to the travel home.
Seeing it was 3:30, I knew I had to catch the very next bus from the diez y ocho, for the last bus from the pueblo to my canton was at 6. I patiently waited, as someone who I thought was a nice young man, advised me when the next bus was coming. He worked for the bus route and was explaining how soon all the buses would use tickets, to be more accurate, blah blah. And certain as the sun sets, the conversation ended with him hitting on me and me feeling extremely awkward and without an emergency exit route. When the bus pulled up, I practically cried in relief and spent most of the bus ride praying I never encounter that man again. Note: do not wear dresses while traveling ever again.
The second bus, on the way to my pueblo, I sat next to another seemingly nice ¨lady¨ (well she had a mustache). She lived in my pueblo and was a kindergarten teacher there. We talked for a long time and I concluded she was very nice... but was also questionably hitting on me. She gave me her number, and I took it, just glad I didnt have to give her mine. We pulled up at the pueblo at 5:58 and she watched me longingly as I sprinted for the next bus......which pulled away just as I arrived. I took out my phone, ready to call my new ¨friend¨ when I remembered I knew someone who lived on the corner. The problem was really that my dog was alone in my house. The guy on the corner was the first genuine Salvadoran encounter I had all day, and he, gracias a dios, had a friend with a pick up who was heading to my canton.
And so the story ends as it started. Me on the back of a pickup heading to my house. This time, I was surrounded by approx 30 men coming home from the fields, and I was in no mood to talk, or should I say be harassed. I stood in the corner, looking up at the sky, thankful that I would make it home before the last ray of light.
I hopped off at my counterparts house, not wanting the herd of men to see where my house was located, and then ran home to my Barro. He had successfully eaten everything in the garbage, including half a styrofoam plate, a new sponge from my shelf and had finished chewing up the sandal he had started on yesterday, but he did manage to poop (solid!) only inches from the door. And so I was happy. I collapsed on my bed at 7pm.
Whoever said, ¨Its not the destination, its the journey¨ must have served in peace corps el salvador.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Poems, Propositions & Please Send Mes
First, a Poem I spontaneously wrote this morning...
Misty Morning
Looking out the window on a misty morning.
Everything is very still and quiet.
Nothing moving except for a few leaves on the nearest tree.
A blanket of undefined clouds weaving in and out of the coco trees.
I can´t help but want to just sit and watch all morning: The nothingness.
That makes me think of everything.
Until the rising sun burns it away.
The fog creates a calm feeling in me.
A sort of peaceful serenity.
Like the warmth of your bathroom, the moment you step out of a hot shower.
Barely able to make out your contour in the misty mirror.
The feeling is that that I get from leaning over a steaming up of coffee,
The moment when my body has just gotten up
but my mind is not yet awake.
The warmth of the rising heat enveloping my face.
The cloudy treetops, the dream-like opaqueness of the scene captured by my tiny window lense:
It reminds me of the split second of sky diving when I passed through the clouds.
A feeling of gentle coolness that relaxed my whole body.
For one moment, the adrenaline subsided and I was floating in the exhalations of my breath on a cold day.
If I close my eyes I can be in that moment. All those moments.
If I open them to the scene before me, I wear the same complacent smile.
And if I look, I can find those moments everywhere.
Next, a proposition...
Walk Slowly
The next time you have an opportunity to do so, walk slowly. I mean, mentally concentrate on it. Walk at least half the pace you usually do. Instead of thinking about your destination, pay attention to your surroundings. Listen to the sounds of your surroundings. Hear the interaction of your feet with the ground. Notice the buildings or trees you are passing by. Smile at people. See children laughing or couples hugging. Smell the different aromas of the area. The food or the flowers. Enjoy these moments. It will slow things down. It gives you an appreciation for the world. For me, it is extremely calming. Try it!
Back to My Regular Thoughts...
(Not related to anything above, nor to one another.)
Thought 1. I was watching Friends on my iPod the other night (after reading)...the episode where Joey is reading The Shining and he puts it in the freezer when he gets scared. Also, Little Women when he gets sad. And I thought of my trip to Vietnam with my sister. Danielle, remember when you were reading American Psycho (and me The Art of Happiness... say something about us? lol...) and you got so disturbed, that you threw it out? Not just left it behind the many places we had hip-hop-ed to and from. Or gave it to someone else. You had to throw it out. And then I thought of the Friends episode (and you) again when I got sad putting my Kindle in my drawer in the morning. I have an obsession that has led to starting at least 5 books at once. Have any ¨must read suggestions¨?
Thought 2. My older counterpart started laughing as she walked with my the other day. ¨I forgot to put on a bra!¨ She proclaimed. Umm, since when does that matter here? I thought to myself.
Thought 3. I took out a deck of cards to play with some little kids. My instincts immediately went to Egyption Rats Screw. I´m sure Kim, Jackie, Lisa, Cate´s do too! I think its fortunate that I would never be able to describe how to play to a group of little spanish-speaking kids. The community may never feel the same about me!
Thought 4. I texted my friend Jordan the other morning ¨How long is it unacceptable to stay in my hammock for?¨ I thought back to college. Freshmen year. Kristen, remember when we would stay in our beds, all day, side by side watching Americas Next Top Model ReRuns? The only time we left was to make repeated trips to the dining hall. Where I would eat chicken nuggets, sandwiches (patiently waiting for that very very slow lady to mayonaise), rice and more, while you had your vege platter. Only to return back to our cocoons in our below freezing dorm room?
WISH LIST
Supplies for an Arts & Crafts class
Dog bones
Yoga books, CDs, DVDs, music and other exercise materials
Yoga pants & tank tops
Misty Morning
Looking out the window on a misty morning.
Everything is very still and quiet.
Nothing moving except for a few leaves on the nearest tree.
A blanket of undefined clouds weaving in and out of the coco trees.
I can´t help but want to just sit and watch all morning: The nothingness.
That makes me think of everything.
Until the rising sun burns it away.
The fog creates a calm feeling in me.
A sort of peaceful serenity.
Like the warmth of your bathroom, the moment you step out of a hot shower.
Barely able to make out your contour in the misty mirror.
The feeling is that that I get from leaning over a steaming up of coffee,
The moment when my body has just gotten up
but my mind is not yet awake.
The warmth of the rising heat enveloping my face.
The cloudy treetops, the dream-like opaqueness of the scene captured by my tiny window lense:
It reminds me of the split second of sky diving when I passed through the clouds.
A feeling of gentle coolness that relaxed my whole body.
For one moment, the adrenaline subsided and I was floating in the exhalations of my breath on a cold day.
If I close my eyes I can be in that moment. All those moments.
If I open them to the scene before me, I wear the same complacent smile.
And if I look, I can find those moments everywhere.
Next, a proposition...
Walk Slowly
The next time you have an opportunity to do so, walk slowly. I mean, mentally concentrate on it. Walk at least half the pace you usually do. Instead of thinking about your destination, pay attention to your surroundings. Listen to the sounds of your surroundings. Hear the interaction of your feet with the ground. Notice the buildings or trees you are passing by. Smile at people. See children laughing or couples hugging. Smell the different aromas of the area. The food or the flowers. Enjoy these moments. It will slow things down. It gives you an appreciation for the world. For me, it is extremely calming. Try it!
Back to My Regular Thoughts...
(Not related to anything above, nor to one another.)
Thought 1. I was watching Friends on my iPod the other night (after reading)...the episode where Joey is reading The Shining and he puts it in the freezer when he gets scared. Also, Little Women when he gets sad. And I thought of my trip to Vietnam with my sister. Danielle, remember when you were reading American Psycho (and me The Art of Happiness... say something about us? lol...) and you got so disturbed, that you threw it out? Not just left it behind the many places we had hip-hop-ed to and from. Or gave it to someone else. You had to throw it out. And then I thought of the Friends episode (and you) again when I got sad putting my Kindle in my drawer in the morning. I have an obsession that has led to starting at least 5 books at once. Have any ¨must read suggestions¨?
Thought 2. My older counterpart started laughing as she walked with my the other day. ¨I forgot to put on a bra!¨ She proclaimed. Umm, since when does that matter here? I thought to myself.
Thought 3. I took out a deck of cards to play with some little kids. My instincts immediately went to Egyption Rats Screw. I´m sure Kim, Jackie, Lisa, Cate´s do too! I think its fortunate that I would never be able to describe how to play to a group of little spanish-speaking kids. The community may never feel the same about me!
Thought 4. I texted my friend Jordan the other morning ¨How long is it unacceptable to stay in my hammock for?¨ I thought back to college. Freshmen year. Kristen, remember when we would stay in our beds, all day, side by side watching Americas Next Top Model ReRuns? The only time we left was to make repeated trips to the dining hall. Where I would eat chicken nuggets, sandwiches (patiently waiting for that very very slow lady to mayonaise), rice and more, while you had your vege platter. Only to return back to our cocoons in our below freezing dorm room?
WISH LIST
Supplies for an Arts & Crafts class
Dog bones
Yoga books, CDs, DVDs, music and other exercise materials
Yoga pants & tank tops
Friday, May 14, 2010
Happy Birthday Mom!
This week has been my hardest yet down here. For one thing, it´s my Mom´s 50th Birthday and I´m not there to spend it with her. You never really appreciate things until they´re not right there with you do you? I wish I had spent more time with her while I was home. Happy Birthday Mom. I love you. I miss you every day. I read your letter all the time, and cry everytime.
Every single person that meets me down here asks to see the picture of you. ¨Y la foto de su mama?¨ You´re more important here that I am! They say you look like a doll. They can´t believe how young you look. And how beautiful you are. You stole all my thunder! And they haven´t even met you. They haven´t laughed at your corny jokes or eaten your special chicken dish. They haven´t seen you play softball or go bowling. They didn´t see you rub my back at night when I would cry about leg pains. They don´t know that the reason I don´t mind sweeping my house everyday is because I think about how you told me ¨its good exercise¨. They know you´re beautiful, but they don´t even know how special you are.
I hope you have a really good day and I hope that lots of happiness always finds you. I love you mommy.
The other reason is because I thought my dog was dead. 2 nights ago, he started vomiting. He tried to walk to the door, but fell. He was shaking, even his head was trembling. He wouldn´t eat or drink. He was just lying there, crapping himself. I thought for sure he would die. An hour into his seizure, a scorpion ran by on the floor. As I frantically tried to kick it away from Barro without getting stung myself, in sandals half falling off, since Barro had eaten the strap of one, I wondered if maybe he had gotten stung. Or maybe it was something he ate. WHY does he have to eat poop, balloons, leaves, bugs, FROGS? Or maybe he had eaten ant poision. I don´t know. But I was hysterically crying watching him suffer. There was no vet, let alone a person down here than actually CARED about animals. So I wrapped him in a blanket and sat on the floor with him (and his falling feces) on my lap, crying my eyes out on the cement floor. After 2 hours of desolation, I used my last 10 cents of saldo on my phone, and called my counterpart. In the middle of the night, she came over with her granddaughter who shortly fell asleep in my hammock. It was really nice of her to come, and I was really glad for the comfort of company. Unfortunately, she told me Barro had ¨Ojo¨. A sickness only cured by witch doctors. I was NOT allowed to bring him to the AgroServicio aka ¨vet¨. Instead, she took a chicken egg, rubbed it all over his head and body. Gave him a bath in alcohol covered leaves that made him smell really bad and attracteed A LOT of bugs. And told me to crack the egg, dig a hole outside, and bury it. For the disease was now out of his system and in the egg.
I don´t exactly believe that the chicken egg saved Barros life. But 2 days later, he can walk again, is not vomiting, ate some food this morning (still has a rancid lime green diarrea) and is alive. I hope that he will be okay. And now he will be staying on a tight leash. It was hard to think I was losing my best friend and roomate here. As big of a pain in the ass he is, I love him.
The other reasons, are the normal homesickness. I miss life back home. I want to share stories with Danielle, probably about guys or going out, laughing on the couch. Maybe looking in the mirror about whose stomach is fatter. Are you still detoxing? I want to watch Christina from across the rooming, typing on her computer. So concentrated that she can´t hear me talking to her. I want to help her get ready for college. Tell her about my experiences and get excited with her about how much fun she will have. Are you sure you wanna go to Maryland and not Florida? I want to hug Amanda...I want her to be a baby again when I would rock her to sleep on the blue chair or make her say bad words with my friends. Oops. Or at least I want to watch her grow up. 7th grade! Thats when everything starts getting bad... I had my first boyfriend...but we didn´t hug til 8th grade dont worry. I DONT wanna be there to help with math, but I DO wanna be there to see your 100s! Not even kidding, Justin Bieber is on in the Internet Cafe right now! I wanna be watching him on YouTube with you in my room :( I want to be with my Dad, eating strawberrys that he has cut the stems off of for me. Or sitting on the couch while he cooks me eggs and then watching Goodfellas for the 70th time together. I want to do situps on the floor with my Mom. Go grocery shopping with her and be really excited for juice on sale but spending way too much on Warm Delights and Chocolate Chip Cookies and then hiding them in unsuspecting places in the house. I want to sit in Grams house, watching her cook dinner, smelling the sweet tomato sauce, and afterwards re using the tinfoil for the 15th time. I want to be with my family.
But I´m building a family here. I have started an Artesania group. A guy in town makes really awesome jewelry out of natural seeds that grow here and he wants to teach people. I am in contact with an organization to request materials or funds for our group. Once everyone can make stuff, we are going to try to sell them at tourist fairs or larger pueblos. People are really excited about it. We have a group learning to make hammocks. Including me. Does anyone at home realize how comfortable these things are? I haven´t been to a house yet that doesn´t have one down here. Anyone want one at home? I am also going to give art, gym/yoga and english classes at the school. I´ve been observing classes this week at 2 schools the children attend here. And I´m helping teach adults reading, writing and general education. It´s nice now to walk through the community and hear these people, who I call friends and hope to call family soon, say Hola Nina Jaime, instead of stare and whisper Gringa, like they did before. It also helps playing soccer on the guys team every Sunday, but I´m pretty sure the group of teenaged guys would have accepted me before I did that anyway...
And I just read an email from our Peace Corps Country Director here. In it was a section about rebuilding the Guinea program. It made me think about how different things would have been if I actually ended up there. I was told I would have contact with home once a month. No water. No electricity. FRENCH with a local dialect. Learning 2 languages! A desert with hardly ever rain. The ivory coast. Could I have done it? I don´t know. Maybe there´s a reason I ended up here. But maybe I could have. Everything is about your attitude. It´s all in your mindset. You can do anything you really put your mind to. And I´ve learned here that its not about whether you have a mud hut or house of cement blocks. Its not hard to take bucket baths and you get withstand eating beans everyday. What matters is people and relationships. I could have survived Peace Corps Guinea. Maybe I would have turned out more like Bear Grylls, than the slightly less high maintenance form of myself that Ive become... but I think I could have done it with the help of the people of Guinea around. I´ve been asked how to change the world? Is it possible... I don´t know. But what´s the hurt in trying. HOW is the question. For me, this is it- people. Loving people. Seeing the beauty in everyday, even if it means finding it. Appreciating what you have, even though it may be less than others, or not much at all. Doing things that make others happy... and will... without a doubt, make you happier in return. Holding the door for someone. Saying hello, or ¨Salu¨ to people who pass by. Maybe you can afford to give back in bigger ways. Do things with good intentions. Follow your dreams- its one of the HARDEST things to do. But if you do what makes you happy, it will rub off on others. Think that we were all born the same, we all want to be happy, and we all deserve to be happy. So have compassion. Don´t let little things make you angry, and don´t be angry at other people. It does nothing for yourself. Guinea would be hard place to live. But people there deserve to be happy...and people there are just as sweet as the people here in El Salvador. So as much as I miss home, I will keep appreciating the little things here. The greenish blue bird that sat on my tree this morning, singing me a morning tune. The baby horse that Barro and I watch frolick behind his mama...never 3 steps away. The easy access to freshly fallen mangos, papayas and avocados. Doing yogo infront of the misty mountains in the morning. Hugs from little kids I barely know and even kisses on the cheek. Living Life.
Every single person that meets me down here asks to see the picture of you. ¨Y la foto de su mama?¨ You´re more important here that I am! They say you look like a doll. They can´t believe how young you look. And how beautiful you are. You stole all my thunder! And they haven´t even met you. They haven´t laughed at your corny jokes or eaten your special chicken dish. They haven´t seen you play softball or go bowling. They didn´t see you rub my back at night when I would cry about leg pains. They don´t know that the reason I don´t mind sweeping my house everyday is because I think about how you told me ¨its good exercise¨. They know you´re beautiful, but they don´t even know how special you are.
I hope you have a really good day and I hope that lots of happiness always finds you. I love you mommy.
The other reason is because I thought my dog was dead. 2 nights ago, he started vomiting. He tried to walk to the door, but fell. He was shaking, even his head was trembling. He wouldn´t eat or drink. He was just lying there, crapping himself. I thought for sure he would die. An hour into his seizure, a scorpion ran by on the floor. As I frantically tried to kick it away from Barro without getting stung myself, in sandals half falling off, since Barro had eaten the strap of one, I wondered if maybe he had gotten stung. Or maybe it was something he ate. WHY does he have to eat poop, balloons, leaves, bugs, FROGS? Or maybe he had eaten ant poision. I don´t know. But I was hysterically crying watching him suffer. There was no vet, let alone a person down here than actually CARED about animals. So I wrapped him in a blanket and sat on the floor with him (and his falling feces) on my lap, crying my eyes out on the cement floor. After 2 hours of desolation, I used my last 10 cents of saldo on my phone, and called my counterpart. In the middle of the night, she came over with her granddaughter who shortly fell asleep in my hammock. It was really nice of her to come, and I was really glad for the comfort of company. Unfortunately, she told me Barro had ¨Ojo¨. A sickness only cured by witch doctors. I was NOT allowed to bring him to the AgroServicio aka ¨vet¨. Instead, she took a chicken egg, rubbed it all over his head and body. Gave him a bath in alcohol covered leaves that made him smell really bad and attracteed A LOT of bugs. And told me to crack the egg, dig a hole outside, and bury it. For the disease was now out of his system and in the egg.
I don´t exactly believe that the chicken egg saved Barros life. But 2 days later, he can walk again, is not vomiting, ate some food this morning (still has a rancid lime green diarrea) and is alive. I hope that he will be okay. And now he will be staying on a tight leash. It was hard to think I was losing my best friend and roomate here. As big of a pain in the ass he is, I love him.
The other reasons, are the normal homesickness. I miss life back home. I want to share stories with Danielle, probably about guys or going out, laughing on the couch. Maybe looking in the mirror about whose stomach is fatter. Are you still detoxing? I want to watch Christina from across the rooming, typing on her computer. So concentrated that she can´t hear me talking to her. I want to help her get ready for college. Tell her about my experiences and get excited with her about how much fun she will have. Are you sure you wanna go to Maryland and not Florida? I want to hug Amanda...I want her to be a baby again when I would rock her to sleep on the blue chair or make her say bad words with my friends. Oops. Or at least I want to watch her grow up. 7th grade! Thats when everything starts getting bad... I had my first boyfriend...but we didn´t hug til 8th grade dont worry. I DONT wanna be there to help with math, but I DO wanna be there to see your 100s! Not even kidding, Justin Bieber is on in the Internet Cafe right now! I wanna be watching him on YouTube with you in my room :( I want to be with my Dad, eating strawberrys that he has cut the stems off of for me. Or sitting on the couch while he cooks me eggs and then watching Goodfellas for the 70th time together. I want to do situps on the floor with my Mom. Go grocery shopping with her and be really excited for juice on sale but spending way too much on Warm Delights and Chocolate Chip Cookies and then hiding them in unsuspecting places in the house. I want to sit in Grams house, watching her cook dinner, smelling the sweet tomato sauce, and afterwards re using the tinfoil for the 15th time. I want to be with my family.
But I´m building a family here. I have started an Artesania group. A guy in town makes really awesome jewelry out of natural seeds that grow here and he wants to teach people. I am in contact with an organization to request materials or funds for our group. Once everyone can make stuff, we are going to try to sell them at tourist fairs or larger pueblos. People are really excited about it. We have a group learning to make hammocks. Including me. Does anyone at home realize how comfortable these things are? I haven´t been to a house yet that doesn´t have one down here. Anyone want one at home? I am also going to give art, gym/yoga and english classes at the school. I´ve been observing classes this week at 2 schools the children attend here. And I´m helping teach adults reading, writing and general education. It´s nice now to walk through the community and hear these people, who I call friends and hope to call family soon, say Hola Nina Jaime, instead of stare and whisper Gringa, like they did before. It also helps playing soccer on the guys team every Sunday, but I´m pretty sure the group of teenaged guys would have accepted me before I did that anyway...
And I just read an email from our Peace Corps Country Director here. In it was a section about rebuilding the Guinea program. It made me think about how different things would have been if I actually ended up there. I was told I would have contact with home once a month. No water. No electricity. FRENCH with a local dialect. Learning 2 languages! A desert with hardly ever rain. The ivory coast. Could I have done it? I don´t know. Maybe there´s a reason I ended up here. But maybe I could have. Everything is about your attitude. It´s all in your mindset. You can do anything you really put your mind to. And I´ve learned here that its not about whether you have a mud hut or house of cement blocks. Its not hard to take bucket baths and you get withstand eating beans everyday. What matters is people and relationships. I could have survived Peace Corps Guinea. Maybe I would have turned out more like Bear Grylls, than the slightly less high maintenance form of myself that Ive become... but I think I could have done it with the help of the people of Guinea around. I´ve been asked how to change the world? Is it possible... I don´t know. But what´s the hurt in trying. HOW is the question. For me, this is it- people. Loving people. Seeing the beauty in everyday, even if it means finding it. Appreciating what you have, even though it may be less than others, or not much at all. Doing things that make others happy... and will... without a doubt, make you happier in return. Holding the door for someone. Saying hello, or ¨Salu¨ to people who pass by. Maybe you can afford to give back in bigger ways. Do things with good intentions. Follow your dreams- its one of the HARDEST things to do. But if you do what makes you happy, it will rub off on others. Think that we were all born the same, we all want to be happy, and we all deserve to be happy. So have compassion. Don´t let little things make you angry, and don´t be angry at other people. It does nothing for yourself. Guinea would be hard place to live. But people there deserve to be happy...and people there are just as sweet as the people here in El Salvador. So as much as I miss home, I will keep appreciating the little things here. The greenish blue bird that sat on my tree this morning, singing me a morning tune. The baby horse that Barro and I watch frolick behind his mama...never 3 steps away. The easy access to freshly fallen mangos, papayas and avocados. Doing yogo infront of the misty mountains in the morning. Hugs from little kids I barely know and even kisses on the cheek. Living Life.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Life is Beautiful Around the World
As I said, yesterday I was invited to do something called the ¨via de cruz¨ or also known as ¨la oracion de cruz¨. It was some sort of religious celebration for the dia de Santa Cruz.
I put on a nice skirt and shirt. I had on my fancy sandals. I fixed up my hair the best I could in this humidity and wore some dangley earrings. No one had warned me for what was to come.
The walk started off nice, me and a few kids, one man leading the way. It was a hot day in La Montana (this is the name of my canton and foreshadows whats to come). The dirt road was rocky, as always, but a relatively flat plain. Then it got steeper. Gradually at first, and then abruptly. We made a left turn down a smaller dirt road and then a right into a path that was only marked by the man ahead cutting through the brush with his machete. By the way, machetes here, on guys, are like handbags for girls. You dont go anywhere without them. Church and the letrine included. And there is even a ¨machete¨ coat check at some supermarkets. Anyway, in a matter of minutes I found myself lost in a maze of green.
My legs were cut and my skirt dirty. I stretched my limbs more than I do in my morning yoga sessions. I was drenched in sweat. I lost an earring. My hands clawed for something to grab above to hoist myself up on large boulders. My legs were more sore than the day before when I played soccer for an hour. But when we got to the top, 40 minutes later, it was all worth it.
There was about 25 people gathered in a small clearing in the middle of the tall grass, corn fields and green trees that surrounded. I caught my breath, only to lose it again when I looked out over the cliff side. You could see mountain range after mountain range until they disappeared over the horizon. There were birds circling silently overhead, and you could only tell the clouds were moving by the shadows that changed the colors of the fields below. There were no houses, no cows. It was so quiet, that only barely could you make out the sounds of the chickens in the distance. But it wouldn´t be El Salvador without that.
Next time, I will wear hiking boots, bring carabeeners, rope and a camel pack. Long pants. Bug Spray. Maybe a helmet and knee pads. Energy drinks and sunscreen. Trail mix and a first aid kit. Well maybe I´m exaggerating...
I will bring my camera. My sketchbad. A book to read. I will come alone. And just be inspired by la naturaleza.
Or maybe I will bring nothing. Maybe I will just do the entire hike without stopping. Exert all my energy to the point of exhaustion and then collapse in the clearing. Surely the sweat with torture me as it trickles down my forehead and dissipates on the earth below, but I will just let it happen. I will take every moment for what it is. I will not interfere with the nature of how things work. I will revel in the simplicity of the experience. Lying there, all appendages open and responsive to the world. Completely relaxed and still, except for the rise and fall of my chest as I breath in the fresh air. After absorbing it all, how the wind interacts with the trees and the mountains with the clouds I will close my eyes and reflect...
Just as I did during the Via de Cruz yesterday on mountain side. I tried to listen at first to the words of the Bible. I did enjoy the songs. But soon my mind drifted away from the disciples, as I stared past the preachers and into the faces of the mountains in the distance. I pictured myself on the back of a motorcycle, clinging onto my sister´s shirt and laughing as we bumped around the mountains of northern Vietnam. I closed my eyes and felt the same breeze as I did that day. I floated over to Honduras, to the island of Utila. I was sitting on the dock of the bar, Tranquila, that protruded out into the sea, where you could see the mountains of the Honduran mainland in the distance on a clear day. I got a little lightheaded when I thought of the terrain of Bolivia, and how at some points, if you avoided the altitude sickness, you almost felt like you were in a state of euphoria. I drifted back 5-6 years, to a cliff in Portugal with my best friend. Salty sea water splashing in our faces as we admired our tans and giggled about the cute Portuguese boys we had met the night before. And I smiled. I opened my eyes back up to the beautiful view, and I smiled at the beautiful people around me. Many smiled back, with their eyes, as they sung along thanking God for the bread, the rain, the sun... I was thankful too.
Because, as the Red Hot Chili Peppers often remind me....
¨I know. I know for sure. That life is beautiful around the world.¨
I put on a nice skirt and shirt. I had on my fancy sandals. I fixed up my hair the best I could in this humidity and wore some dangley earrings. No one had warned me for what was to come.
The walk started off nice, me and a few kids, one man leading the way. It was a hot day in La Montana (this is the name of my canton and foreshadows whats to come). The dirt road was rocky, as always, but a relatively flat plain. Then it got steeper. Gradually at first, and then abruptly. We made a left turn down a smaller dirt road and then a right into a path that was only marked by the man ahead cutting through the brush with his machete. By the way, machetes here, on guys, are like handbags for girls. You dont go anywhere without them. Church and the letrine included. And there is even a ¨machete¨ coat check at some supermarkets. Anyway, in a matter of minutes I found myself lost in a maze of green.
My legs were cut and my skirt dirty. I stretched my limbs more than I do in my morning yoga sessions. I was drenched in sweat. I lost an earring. My hands clawed for something to grab above to hoist myself up on large boulders. My legs were more sore than the day before when I played soccer for an hour. But when we got to the top, 40 minutes later, it was all worth it.
There was about 25 people gathered in a small clearing in the middle of the tall grass, corn fields and green trees that surrounded. I caught my breath, only to lose it again when I looked out over the cliff side. You could see mountain range after mountain range until they disappeared over the horizon. There were birds circling silently overhead, and you could only tell the clouds were moving by the shadows that changed the colors of the fields below. There were no houses, no cows. It was so quiet, that only barely could you make out the sounds of the chickens in the distance. But it wouldn´t be El Salvador without that.
Next time, I will wear hiking boots, bring carabeeners, rope and a camel pack. Long pants. Bug Spray. Maybe a helmet and knee pads. Energy drinks and sunscreen. Trail mix and a first aid kit. Well maybe I´m exaggerating...
I will bring my camera. My sketchbad. A book to read. I will come alone. And just be inspired by la naturaleza.
Or maybe I will bring nothing. Maybe I will just do the entire hike without stopping. Exert all my energy to the point of exhaustion and then collapse in the clearing. Surely the sweat with torture me as it trickles down my forehead and dissipates on the earth below, but I will just let it happen. I will take every moment for what it is. I will not interfere with the nature of how things work. I will revel in the simplicity of the experience. Lying there, all appendages open and responsive to the world. Completely relaxed and still, except for the rise and fall of my chest as I breath in the fresh air. After absorbing it all, how the wind interacts with the trees and the mountains with the clouds I will close my eyes and reflect...
Just as I did during the Via de Cruz yesterday on mountain side. I tried to listen at first to the words of the Bible. I did enjoy the songs. But soon my mind drifted away from the disciples, as I stared past the preachers and into the faces of the mountains in the distance. I pictured myself on the back of a motorcycle, clinging onto my sister´s shirt and laughing as we bumped around the mountains of northern Vietnam. I closed my eyes and felt the same breeze as I did that day. I floated over to Honduras, to the island of Utila. I was sitting on the dock of the bar, Tranquila, that protruded out into the sea, where you could see the mountains of the Honduran mainland in the distance on a clear day. I got a little lightheaded when I thought of the terrain of Bolivia, and how at some points, if you avoided the altitude sickness, you almost felt like you were in a state of euphoria. I drifted back 5-6 years, to a cliff in Portugal with my best friend. Salty sea water splashing in our faces as we admired our tans and giggled about the cute Portuguese boys we had met the night before. And I smiled. I opened my eyes back up to the beautiful view, and I smiled at the beautiful people around me. Many smiled back, with their eyes, as they sung along thanking God for the bread, the rain, the sun... I was thankful too.
Because, as the Red Hot Chili Peppers often remind me....
¨I know. I know for sure. That life is beautiful around the world.¨
Monday, May 3, 2010
Clarifications
Barro Lives!
I now wake up differently each day. Wait, Clarification: Did I ever explain why I have to go to the bathroom in the morning so bad? Well my latrine is approximately 100 feet from my house, good thing because nobody wants a pit full of feces in close proximity to where they eat and sleep, but not a good thing when its the middle of the night and you have to go. I get a little scared walking out there. For one thing, there are cockroaches, giant toads to avoid and my dog´s diarrea. But I dont want anyone to snatch me or enter my house in the darkness. For this, I am in pain in the morning.
So anyway, today I woke up to the cat. The cat came back. I was wondering why Barro was running circles around my bed. The cat had climbed through my window once again to steal the food that Barro does not eat. It was 515am, I ¨chh chh´d¨ the cat away, put some coffee on the cocina, and sat on the hammock until my eyes adjusted to the light. But, on a good note, after I wiped away the boogies from my tear ducts and regained full vision, I was pleasantly surprised to see a semi-solid poo poo on the floor. Clarification: Barro lives to see another day. He has had 2 injections, and will only eat chicken and tamales, (he is quite an expensive pup), and I force some vitamins, of I know not what, down his throat every morning, and one or the other is helping him surpass his ameobas or parasites.
The muscle that I pulled in my quad last week has healed and so I resumed my position on the futbol field Sunday. This time I introduced myself to all the guys, hoping this would encourage them to actually involve me in the plays. I was hoping that changing in front of them also would have helped, but it didn´t. One guy, proud that he knew some English, told me, in English, ¨I will always pass to you.¨ Clarification: You will never get the ball. I think maybe I got 2 passes, because they ricocheted off the legs of someone else and landed by me, but it was still fun. I was happy to play again. Afterwards, I brought the softball that I had purchased by mistake, to the cancha and got a group of girls to play. Before I knew it, boys were running over, leaving the futbol behind, the neighbor was chopping off a tree branch, rocks were placed at first second and third base and we had a game going. By the time we shattered the third bat (branch), my finger was swollen (its hard without gloves), and we could barely see the ball. Time to head home to bathe before its too dark and scary.
So I get to use the internet 3 times in one week this week. It actually kinda sucks coming into town because its very hot and the buses are crowded. Plus it wastes a lot of my day. But since Barro has been sick, I´m obligated to take him to the Vet for 3 days. Later, I´m going to do the Stations of the Cross. I kinda got suckered into it, but since no one has made me go to church yet, I´m trying to build confianza and I also am kinda interested to see this procession, I´m gonna go... con ganas.
Here are other ways I have built confianza:
After numerous refusals to give my number to my little lover... also my necklace, my bracelets, my soccer cleats, my watch... I finally gave in... To a piece of my pupusas. I ripped a piece off and went to hand it over. Before I had a chance to retract, he had taken it with his mouth. In front of about 1000 people. Oops.
I made tortillas with my neighbor the other night. And for the first time they actually came out circular.
My counterpart gave me a dress. Its bright red, with polkadots, It is tight on my chest. There is a large slit up the side. I kinda look like I´m going to the prom...50 years ago. I feel its a little inappropriate but my counterpart was really excited to see it on me. So I wore it at her house for the evening....
I made choco-bananas at my house, with 7 neighborhood kids, and we distributed them to friends passing by. I also brought guacamole to my counterparts house and everyone was shocked to see that there were no eggs involved.
I got my third offer for a beer. But refused. Its tempting but not good for my image.
Off to be productive. Ljavascript:void(0)
Save as Draftove hearing Lady Gaga leaving the internet cafe...
I now wake up differently each day. Wait, Clarification: Did I ever explain why I have to go to the bathroom in the morning so bad? Well my latrine is approximately 100 feet from my house, good thing because nobody wants a pit full of feces in close proximity to where they eat and sleep, but not a good thing when its the middle of the night and you have to go. I get a little scared walking out there. For one thing, there are cockroaches, giant toads to avoid and my dog´s diarrea. But I dont want anyone to snatch me or enter my house in the darkness. For this, I am in pain in the morning.
So anyway, today I woke up to the cat. The cat came back. I was wondering why Barro was running circles around my bed. The cat had climbed through my window once again to steal the food that Barro does not eat. It was 515am, I ¨chh chh´d¨ the cat away, put some coffee on the cocina, and sat on the hammock until my eyes adjusted to the light. But, on a good note, after I wiped away the boogies from my tear ducts and regained full vision, I was pleasantly surprised to see a semi-solid poo poo on the floor. Clarification: Barro lives to see another day. He has had 2 injections, and will only eat chicken and tamales, (he is quite an expensive pup), and I force some vitamins, of I know not what, down his throat every morning, and one or the other is helping him surpass his ameobas or parasites.
The muscle that I pulled in my quad last week has healed and so I resumed my position on the futbol field Sunday. This time I introduced myself to all the guys, hoping this would encourage them to actually involve me in the plays. I was hoping that changing in front of them also would have helped, but it didn´t. One guy, proud that he knew some English, told me, in English, ¨I will always pass to you.¨ Clarification: You will never get the ball. I think maybe I got 2 passes, because they ricocheted off the legs of someone else and landed by me, but it was still fun. I was happy to play again. Afterwards, I brought the softball that I had purchased by mistake, to the cancha and got a group of girls to play. Before I knew it, boys were running over, leaving the futbol behind, the neighbor was chopping off a tree branch, rocks were placed at first second and third base and we had a game going. By the time we shattered the third bat (branch), my finger was swollen (its hard without gloves), and we could barely see the ball. Time to head home to bathe before its too dark and scary.
So I get to use the internet 3 times in one week this week. It actually kinda sucks coming into town because its very hot and the buses are crowded. Plus it wastes a lot of my day. But since Barro has been sick, I´m obligated to take him to the Vet for 3 days. Later, I´m going to do the Stations of the Cross. I kinda got suckered into it, but since no one has made me go to church yet, I´m trying to build confianza and I also am kinda interested to see this procession, I´m gonna go... con ganas.
Here are other ways I have built confianza:
After numerous refusals to give my number to my little lover... also my necklace, my bracelets, my soccer cleats, my watch... I finally gave in... To a piece of my pupusas. I ripped a piece off and went to hand it over. Before I had a chance to retract, he had taken it with his mouth. In front of about 1000 people. Oops.
I made tortillas with my neighbor the other night. And for the first time they actually came out circular.
My counterpart gave me a dress. Its bright red, with polkadots, It is tight on my chest. There is a large slit up the side. I kinda look like I´m going to the prom...50 years ago. I feel its a little inappropriate but my counterpart was really excited to see it on me. So I wore it at her house for the evening....
I made choco-bananas at my house, with 7 neighborhood kids, and we distributed them to friends passing by. I also brought guacamole to my counterparts house and everyone was shocked to see that there were no eggs involved.
I got my third offer for a beer. But refused. Its tempting but not good for my image.
Off to be productive. Ljavascript:void(0)
Save as Draftove hearing Lady Gaga leaving the internet cafe...
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The Big Meeting
How do you guys feel about Jaime being here in the community?
Bien….Good.
That´s how my General Assembly meeting ended. Pretty much sums it up. I talked for about 30 mins, showed photos of my family, talked about my hobbies, showed my sketchpad, explained the Peace Corps, pointed to posters I had made, revealed what I had learned about the community and where I thought I could help... all while about 90 expressionless faces stared at me. Some were talking to there neighbors, semi-oblivious that I was talking. Some clearly had no effing idea what I was saying, some slightly mesmerized by the chele gringa standing before them speaking spanish, and maybe a handful listening to what I was saying.
And after all that talking, mine and those who were talking over me, an awkward silence ensued. I smiled awkwardly. Not sure if I should bow or something. Or not knowing if an applause was coming or if maybe I should say something else.
But finally some guy wanted to know how the community felt about me. And in a place where ¨pena¨ or embarassment is at the forefront of everyones personality, I was happy that I actually got a response. Even if it was just Bien. Good- they liked me.
Anyway, my boss said that the meeting went well and was as thoroughly surprised and impressed as I was at the turnout. I was worried at first since the meeting was supposed to start at 130 and at 2 there were about 10 ppl there. But before I knew it, there were ppl spilling out of the Comunal House and passerbyers on the street were pausing for a glimpse at me in action. It felt good.
For me it means that I have a community who wants to work. People will help me find ways to improve the houses, the roofs, the streets. People will show up to learn how to make hammocks, jewelry, soap, bread. I will be able to form committees for education and youth groups. The girls will assemble to form a soccer team. We will find a way to improve the water system to the lower part of town and possible irrigate the fields. Adults will show up to learn how to read, write, multiply and even learn how to be better parents and role models. Maybe we can start farms, maybe we can make a business out of selling their fruit, maybe we can find new ways to prosper from the hemp that grows here plentifully. All I know is that I am lucky to have a community like mine and I need to start to find ways to capitalize on the human resources I have here.
Unfortunately, I have been pretty occupied cleaning up diarrea that seems to be spraying from my dogs backside in all directions. Sorry to be vulgar but its just how it is. I can´t sugar coat it. And it went from funny, to disgusting, to pull my hair out annoying, to mornings where gagging got me out of bed even before the kidney infection onset. And now, I´m scared. He has had diarrea for 5 days. He is tired. He refused to eat besides his frequent visits to the neighbors lawn for a helping of cow caca or chicken shit if thats all there is to offer nearby. Probably the cause of the parasits or amoebas which I´m fairly positive he has. He may die. Either from the diarrea or from the injections that I have succumbed to letting the AgroServicio (pretty much means chicken breeder) give him. And I haven´t decided whether the beetles, spiders and ants he eats are good or bad for him. He needs protein from somewhere...
Lets think funny thinks so I dont worry about him too much:
My little lover, a 20 year old, semi-bolo who I cant understand but have received several marriage proposals from, repeatedly blew me kisses and interrupted my interview with my boss to ask if we could go somewhere together.
Showering in the rain feels really awesome.
I ripped my pants during a house visit. I swear Im not that fat its just scrubbing jeans with a brush does a lot of wear and tear..... mas yoga. And since my clothes are instantly dirty after 5 mins out in the campo, I have amassed 2 large bags of dirty ropa and I will now be paying the neighbor to do half on her rock.
I may or may not be counting down the days to a beach reunion with other volunteers :/
I am now cooking refried beans and platanos on a daily basis. But throw in some pasta every so often. I also average 5 mangos a day. And have learned that you can eat fruit here at any stage of the game. While in the US we only like fruit ripe, here you eat them ripe, semi'ripe and unripe, all are different flavors. And I now like green mangos better...
One of the many ninos that run into my house as soon as I opened my door asked if she could pee in my bathing area yesterday. I said, well there is a letrine over there. And she said, yea, but can I pee here? Okay. Not sure why but I guess thats fine with me...
As for you Amanda, yes I think you need to start my own blog because it now takes me just about as long to read your comments as it does to write a new post. Danielle, you always have underestimated me. And I miss you both, plus Christina even though she is too busy with high school drama to read my blog! Mom and Dad, I love and miss you too.
Other friends who read this, thanks :) Glad to know people still remember me even though I am lost in some little piece of central america.
xoxo
Bien….Good.
That´s how my General Assembly meeting ended. Pretty much sums it up. I talked for about 30 mins, showed photos of my family, talked about my hobbies, showed my sketchpad, explained the Peace Corps, pointed to posters I had made, revealed what I had learned about the community and where I thought I could help... all while about 90 expressionless faces stared at me. Some were talking to there neighbors, semi-oblivious that I was talking. Some clearly had no effing idea what I was saying, some slightly mesmerized by the chele gringa standing before them speaking spanish, and maybe a handful listening to what I was saying.
And after all that talking, mine and those who were talking over me, an awkward silence ensued. I smiled awkwardly. Not sure if I should bow or something. Or not knowing if an applause was coming or if maybe I should say something else.
But finally some guy wanted to know how the community felt about me. And in a place where ¨pena¨ or embarassment is at the forefront of everyones personality, I was happy that I actually got a response. Even if it was just Bien. Good- they liked me.
Anyway, my boss said that the meeting went well and was as thoroughly surprised and impressed as I was at the turnout. I was worried at first since the meeting was supposed to start at 130 and at 2 there were about 10 ppl there. But before I knew it, there were ppl spilling out of the Comunal House and passerbyers on the street were pausing for a glimpse at me in action. It felt good.
For me it means that I have a community who wants to work. People will help me find ways to improve the houses, the roofs, the streets. People will show up to learn how to make hammocks, jewelry, soap, bread. I will be able to form committees for education and youth groups. The girls will assemble to form a soccer team. We will find a way to improve the water system to the lower part of town and possible irrigate the fields. Adults will show up to learn how to read, write, multiply and even learn how to be better parents and role models. Maybe we can start farms, maybe we can make a business out of selling their fruit, maybe we can find new ways to prosper from the hemp that grows here plentifully. All I know is that I am lucky to have a community like mine and I need to start to find ways to capitalize on the human resources I have here.
Unfortunately, I have been pretty occupied cleaning up diarrea that seems to be spraying from my dogs backside in all directions. Sorry to be vulgar but its just how it is. I can´t sugar coat it. And it went from funny, to disgusting, to pull my hair out annoying, to mornings where gagging got me out of bed even before the kidney infection onset. And now, I´m scared. He has had diarrea for 5 days. He is tired. He refused to eat besides his frequent visits to the neighbors lawn for a helping of cow caca or chicken shit if thats all there is to offer nearby. Probably the cause of the parasits or amoebas which I´m fairly positive he has. He may die. Either from the diarrea or from the injections that I have succumbed to letting the AgroServicio (pretty much means chicken breeder) give him. And I haven´t decided whether the beetles, spiders and ants he eats are good or bad for him. He needs protein from somewhere...
Lets think funny thinks so I dont worry about him too much:
My little lover, a 20 year old, semi-bolo who I cant understand but have received several marriage proposals from, repeatedly blew me kisses and interrupted my interview with my boss to ask if we could go somewhere together.
Showering in the rain feels really awesome.
I ripped my pants during a house visit. I swear Im not that fat its just scrubbing jeans with a brush does a lot of wear and tear..... mas yoga. And since my clothes are instantly dirty after 5 mins out in the campo, I have amassed 2 large bags of dirty ropa and I will now be paying the neighbor to do half on her rock.
I may or may not be counting down the days to a beach reunion with other volunteers :/
I am now cooking refried beans and platanos on a daily basis. But throw in some pasta every so often. I also average 5 mangos a day. And have learned that you can eat fruit here at any stage of the game. While in the US we only like fruit ripe, here you eat them ripe, semi'ripe and unripe, all are different flavors. And I now like green mangos better...
One of the many ninos that run into my house as soon as I opened my door asked if she could pee in my bathing area yesterday. I said, well there is a letrine over there. And she said, yea, but can I pee here? Okay. Not sure why but I guess thats fine with me...
As for you Amanda, yes I think you need to start my own blog because it now takes me just about as long to read your comments as it does to write a new post. Danielle, you always have underestimated me. And I miss you both, plus Christina even though she is too busy with high school drama to read my blog! Mom and Dad, I love and miss you too.
Other friends who read this, thanks :) Glad to know people still remember me even though I am lost in some little piece of central america.
xoxo
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