“Are you flexible? How well do you work without structure or direction?” I remember when I was applying for the Peace Corps and these questions were asked during the interview. What my recruiter was trying to tell me was that if I am not EXTREMELY flexible, I will never make it through 2 years of service because there is absolutely NO structure and nothing will go as initially planned. I still don´t know if I can make it 2 years without Haagen Dazs Coffee ice cream at least once a day…but I have learned to accept the local Neveria´s offerings. So, Yes, I can be flexible. In other ways too…
Saturday I was supposed to meet with my Artesania group to discuss our Business Plan. I woke up early and had it all planned out…spent the time to lookup all these technical terms in Spanish. Low and behold, come 2pm…3pm…4…no one showed up. It was semi-expected since it was pouring and people don’t like to leave their house when it rains. I don’t blame them since it takes me about 20 mins to walk 20 feet through the swamp that used to be the road to the Community House. Can someone send me a pair of boots?
But since my meeting was a complete failure, I did get to watch the entire USA-Ghana game… I got to watch the 4-6 open shots on goal the US had and every single one miss. About halfway through the game, the storm picked up and the signal went from fuzzy to barely visible and I got a headache as I scooted my plastic chair up inches from the screen and frantically tried to distinguish between static dots and the ball. I heard the “GOOOOOOL!!!!!” about 10 seconds before I could actually see who it was that scored in the overtime and my heart raced in that time before it plummeted in my stomach when I saw Ghana cheering in a huddle. Well, at least I won’t get anymore headaches from sitting in front of that television…
Sunday morning was spent sweeping out my house and throwing water. A peaceful Yoga session interrupted by 17 neighborhood children walking into my house, attempting a Half Moon pose and wandering back out, bored and confused. Organizing the hundreds of books, notebooks, magazines, papers, folders I’ve accumulated in 5 months. Fixing the plastic walls of my shower. And waiting for the rain to stop. Eventually, at 3:30pm, it subsided and I decided I was going to get my garden started. Phase 1: make organic compost. The real reason I decided to start the garden on this particular day was that my bag of fruit and vegetable peelings was near overflowing and the fruit flies had begun to form their own army. So Nina Edith lended me a few machetes, a shovel…and 5 of her children…(all under the age of 12 –but hey, it was voluntary) and we went to work in my hard. At first I felt bad that these 9 year olds were machete-ing my overgrown lawn but then I saw their faces light up when I said we needed to collect animal poo poo, so I let them go at it. It was a sight to see… 5 little smiling girls and boys, sprinting into my neighbors yard, bare-handed, scooping up cow and horse dung. And running back to me like I was their proud Mama. I did kinda feel that way…
And Yesterday I woke up early to head into town. I had to use the internet before my interview with the Mayor. I got my research done and walked into his office where I waited almost an hour. Then our meeting started. I asked 1.5 questions before someone else walked in to get him to sign something. Followed by another 7 people and 13 more phone calls before I got to question 10. When I asked how his relationship was with my community he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes and head for 11 seconds before he said “figese que…” which roughly translates into “I’m going to kinda bullshit you right now because, the thing is, I’m going to say what you don’t want to hear”. I assumed this was coming since he is from a different political party that the majority of my community and so he refuses to work with us. As it sounds, it was another very successful meeting.
After that, I took the bus to one of the schools my community uses, where I was supposed to help with a Computer Class. Waited another 30 mins for the teacher Not to show up and then decided to call it a day. I headed home by foot, initially, but after a few minutes the sky unleashed some more fury so I hopped on a passing bus. I jumped off at my counterpart’s house, where the teacher that was supposed to be teaching my computer class was sitting having a cup of coffee. I asked him what happened and he said “figese que…”
I, too, welcomed a cup of coffee and got comfortable in my plastic chair. For the rest of the day I would surrender to the Salvadoran ways and tomorrow I would get back to trying to find a way to organize work in a structure-less society.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Your Fly is Open
I really want to get my yard into shape. Another thing that happens when your gone for 3 weeks, is your yard becomes a jungle. Besides the fact that I cant walk to the letrine without getting covered in moisture from the tall grass, I want to plant a garden.
I was inspired during pre service training 2 last week to make a garden after visiting the sites of other volunteers. Organic composting. Growing my own food. Eating healthy. Setting an example for the community. I´m in.
So my landlord-neighbor was walking by and I asked if he had some tools I could borrow to fix up my lawn. Sure he said with a smile and walked off towards his house. I went back into mine and continued my yoga (also in 3 weeks, you lose all flexibility you gained from the first 2 months of yoga). Just as I was reaching up into the sky, balancing on my left leg in tree pose, I saw Don Emilio returning with 2 large tools in hand. A horse and her colt. Less labor for me I thought. Although, I have to admit, I was semi-excited about hacking the crap out of my lawn with a machete. ¨Just make sure they don´t eat the yuca plants and baby mango trees¨ Emilio warned me. Right, because 1. I can distinguish between the roots of a yuca plan and the weeds that are rampantly growing across the entire manzana of my yard and 2. if that huge caballo walks over there to the mango tree, I´m going to know how to call him away in campo-spanish-horse language, while simultaneouly beating him with a stick.
Don Emilio brings me to my next train of thought. If there is one thing about El Salvador that will be sure to impress any of my visitors (my first is on her way: my older sister Danielle!!- August)…its the zippers on pants. If you are running late for your flight, Danielle, and wearing jeans, have no fear, there is NO NEED to zipper up here. It´s simply accepted that we don´t zipper our flies. If they are in the front, the back, the side, they stay open. After chatting with other volunteers, we still haven´t come to the conclusión as to why the population of El Salvador wears their flies undone, but some of us have opted to assimilate and forgoe the effort of zipping up before heading out into civilized society.
Lastly, we are knee deep into the Winter here. Winter here means rain and frogs. That´s the only way to describe it. I may have said this already, but a frog here is not a frog. It is the size of a squirrel and impeccably more annoying. They don´t really move. They just sit their fat asses at your door step and croak all through the night. They even show up in your shower, sitting their behind the curtain…making you feel uncomfortable as they watch you in the nude. It POURED the other night. I mean, Emilio´s house had a lake out front. And guess what, that meant infinitely more fat toads. The wáter and the amphibians spilled over into my yard, and I swore, as I lie in my bed reading that I was perched on top a lily pad, and surely into the night I would morph into one of those disgusting critters. It didn´t help the fact that all these Little nats were flying around my head lamp, just watiing for me to stick out my tongue and suck one up. I didn´t, but if it would scare them away for the night to let me sleep in peace, I´d consider having them as a midnight snack.
That being said, hope you´re excited to come Danielle! We´re going to have a great time. It´s sooo relaxing here :D
Maybe some of you are actually interested in my WORK here and not my interesting observations of life in the campo. Well, you´d be pleased to know that, as often happens, my meeting with an NGO to help out with my Artesania de Jewelry got canceled. But hopefully he will come through next Wednesday. We´re trying to get our group organized so that we can start a business out of it. Training was helpful as that I plan on sitting down with the leader of the group this week to make our business plan.
I have made 2 appointments for next week to interview a local NGO and the Mayor of my Municipality to discuss their work and projects. I will be starting classes next week at both schools that the youth of my canton attend. At one, I will teach physical education- sports (others besides soccer- they might be flabbergasted to know they exist), yoga, stretching techniques and the importance of being healthy, other fun games. And at another the Director wants be to teach art which I´m pretty stoked about. Still working on the soccer team for the girls…the men dominate the soccer fiel d on the weekends so its been hard to organize time there. And the community wants to start a fish Project where everyone has their own Little pond. I know NOTHING about how to go about doing this so we´ll see when that happens. Also have to start writing a grant proposal for some Money that has been offered to our business group. Before I tell my community about this, I´m going to try to get them to do some fundraising of their own. However, if any of you at home has old sports equipment laying around…balls, softball gloves, bats (is there a way to send that?) feel free to send them! Also, drawing-art supplies.
I miss everyone at home IMMENSELY. Now that I´m back in my community without the other volunteers, the loneliness returns. I miss home, I miss my home…and while it´s nice when I refer to my community as ¨home¨, its a Little scary. I think about everyone at home all the time. The weirdest things remind me of my family, like the tea bags that my friend sent me make me miss my Mom. And sleeping with the teddy bear my Little sister gave me makes me miss my friend and Mr. Bear. I love and miss you all! Come visit!
I was inspired during pre service training 2 last week to make a garden after visiting the sites of other volunteers. Organic composting. Growing my own food. Eating healthy. Setting an example for the community. I´m in.
So my landlord-neighbor was walking by and I asked if he had some tools I could borrow to fix up my lawn. Sure he said with a smile and walked off towards his house. I went back into mine and continued my yoga (also in 3 weeks, you lose all flexibility you gained from the first 2 months of yoga). Just as I was reaching up into the sky, balancing on my left leg in tree pose, I saw Don Emilio returning with 2 large tools in hand. A horse and her colt. Less labor for me I thought. Although, I have to admit, I was semi-excited about hacking the crap out of my lawn with a machete. ¨Just make sure they don´t eat the yuca plants and baby mango trees¨ Emilio warned me. Right, because 1. I can distinguish between the roots of a yuca plan and the weeds that are rampantly growing across the entire manzana of my yard and 2. if that huge caballo walks over there to the mango tree, I´m going to know how to call him away in campo-spanish-horse language, while simultaneouly beating him with a stick.
Don Emilio brings me to my next train of thought. If there is one thing about El Salvador that will be sure to impress any of my visitors (my first is on her way: my older sister Danielle!!- August)…its the zippers on pants. If you are running late for your flight, Danielle, and wearing jeans, have no fear, there is NO NEED to zipper up here. It´s simply accepted that we don´t zipper our flies. If they are in the front, the back, the side, they stay open. After chatting with other volunteers, we still haven´t come to the conclusión as to why the population of El Salvador wears their flies undone, but some of us have opted to assimilate and forgoe the effort of zipping up before heading out into civilized society.
Lastly, we are knee deep into the Winter here. Winter here means rain and frogs. That´s the only way to describe it. I may have said this already, but a frog here is not a frog. It is the size of a squirrel and impeccably more annoying. They don´t really move. They just sit their fat asses at your door step and croak all through the night. They even show up in your shower, sitting their behind the curtain…making you feel uncomfortable as they watch you in the nude. It POURED the other night. I mean, Emilio´s house had a lake out front. And guess what, that meant infinitely more fat toads. The wáter and the amphibians spilled over into my yard, and I swore, as I lie in my bed reading that I was perched on top a lily pad, and surely into the night I would morph into one of those disgusting critters. It didn´t help the fact that all these Little nats were flying around my head lamp, just watiing for me to stick out my tongue and suck one up. I didn´t, but if it would scare them away for the night to let me sleep in peace, I´d consider having them as a midnight snack.
That being said, hope you´re excited to come Danielle! We´re going to have a great time. It´s sooo relaxing here :D
Maybe some of you are actually interested in my WORK here and not my interesting observations of life in the campo. Well, you´d be pleased to know that, as often happens, my meeting with an NGO to help out with my Artesania de Jewelry got canceled. But hopefully he will come through next Wednesday. We´re trying to get our group organized so that we can start a business out of it. Training was helpful as that I plan on sitting down with the leader of the group this week to make our business plan.
I have made 2 appointments for next week to interview a local NGO and the Mayor of my Municipality to discuss their work and projects. I will be starting classes next week at both schools that the youth of my canton attend. At one, I will teach physical education- sports (others besides soccer- they might be flabbergasted to know they exist), yoga, stretching techniques and the importance of being healthy, other fun games. And at another the Director wants be to teach art which I´m pretty stoked about. Still working on the soccer team for the girls…the men dominate the soccer fiel d on the weekends so its been hard to organize time there. And the community wants to start a fish Project where everyone has their own Little pond. I know NOTHING about how to go about doing this so we´ll see when that happens. Also have to start writing a grant proposal for some Money that has been offered to our business group. Before I tell my community about this, I´m going to try to get them to do some fundraising of their own. However, if any of you at home has old sports equipment laying around…balls, softball gloves, bats (is there a way to send that?) feel free to send them! Also, drawing-art supplies.
I miss everyone at home IMMENSELY. Now that I´m back in my community without the other volunteers, the loneliness returns. I miss home, I miss my home…and while it´s nice when I refer to my community as ¨home¨, its a Little scary. I think about everyone at home all the time. The weirdest things remind me of my family, like the tea bags that my friend sent me make me miss my Mom. And sleeping with the teddy bear my Little sister gave me makes me miss my friend and Mr. Bear. I love and miss you all! Come visit!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Back to my Site...
Where is the House I left Behind?
Arrived yesterday at approximately 5.27 pm at my site in Morazan. I jumped off the bus, watched the cobrador drop my 2 backpacks into a puddle of mud as I opened the fence to my house and sighed as the bus drove off into the distance. 3 weeks I was away for training. Do you know what happens in 3 weeks? Scorpions come out from the woodwork and successfully place themselves in unsuspecting areas so that just when you turn the page of a suspenseful book you look up and gasp in horror at a stinger and two claw- like appendages in your face. Spiders create an obstacle course of webs stretching from doorway to window to refrigerator to chairs so that by the time you have walked through 17 and swallowed a couple pieces more, you have stopped noticing they are there. Clothes mold. Flip flops. Pillows. A stove burner (I didn’t know that was possible). Towels. Tables. Everything grows fungus. Dust coats everything so that you feel like your house has been abandoned for years. Swarms of mosquitoes make it impossible to use the latrine without getting bitten at least 3 times on the most difficult part of your body to scratch in public. Your pila grows green algae and larvae, requiring you to clean it thoroughly with bleach in the dark of night so that you have some clean water to wash the mud off your hands from the suitcases…
It is not the same as the lively little house I left behind. It is dirty. It is gloomy. And it is quiet. Barros toys are tossed on the ground. Dirty and smelly but still with his teeth marks. There is no music, since my iPod decided to break after downloading about $200 worth of music and videos. And my friends are not here. After 3 weeks of training, surrounded by other volunteers, and a beautiful weekend at the beach with my friends…. My house is suddenly a very different and unfamiliar place.
Just as quickly as I entered, I left. I walked down the dirt road to Doras house, knowing that her cute little grand children would be sure to cheer me up. And even before I got there, at least 3 families stopped me with bright smiles upon my return. Jaclyns father actually got up from his hammock and walked over to the fence, as opposed to his usual wave to welcome me. Marjorie and Caterine called my name from the hill above my house and I could even make out the smiles of their limited teeth supply in the dark. My dear little Karime road up on her grandpas horse…a 3 year old clinging to his back- picture perfect. We shared stories and hugs at Doras until my yawning become way too uncontrollable to have pleasant conversation any longer…and I headed home. It started pouring and I hoped that the awkwardness of my time gone was being washed away. I pictured the dust, the mold, the spiders and scorpions cleansed away. Barros belongings tied up away in a bag, awaiting a new recipient. And the rain became my new music to lull me asleep. I am ready to start working in my community!
Happy Fathers Day
I took some time to reflect today about my Daddy…I don’t know about your dad, but mine is really talented. He can perfectly remove the stems of strawberries so that alls I have to do is dip them in sugar without worrying about a little leaf sneaking in. He can give horsey rides and play hide and seek better than any 5 year old…even if it means winning by falling asleep in the basement. He can build pools and swing sets, drive motorcycles, boats and planes, cook breakfast and grill steaks. Most importantly, he can always make me laugh. Maybe at times it has come down to the “pull my finger” trick… but he always can. And I miss him a lot today. I love you Dad! Happy Fathers Day.
Arrived yesterday at approximately 5.27 pm at my site in Morazan. I jumped off the bus, watched the cobrador drop my 2 backpacks into a puddle of mud as I opened the fence to my house and sighed as the bus drove off into the distance. 3 weeks I was away for training. Do you know what happens in 3 weeks? Scorpions come out from the woodwork and successfully place themselves in unsuspecting areas so that just when you turn the page of a suspenseful book you look up and gasp in horror at a stinger and two claw- like appendages in your face. Spiders create an obstacle course of webs stretching from doorway to window to refrigerator to chairs so that by the time you have walked through 17 and swallowed a couple pieces more, you have stopped noticing they are there. Clothes mold. Flip flops. Pillows. A stove burner (I didn’t know that was possible). Towels. Tables. Everything grows fungus. Dust coats everything so that you feel like your house has been abandoned for years. Swarms of mosquitoes make it impossible to use the latrine without getting bitten at least 3 times on the most difficult part of your body to scratch in public. Your pila grows green algae and larvae, requiring you to clean it thoroughly with bleach in the dark of night so that you have some clean water to wash the mud off your hands from the suitcases…
It is not the same as the lively little house I left behind. It is dirty. It is gloomy. And it is quiet. Barros toys are tossed on the ground. Dirty and smelly but still with his teeth marks. There is no music, since my iPod decided to break after downloading about $200 worth of music and videos. And my friends are not here. After 3 weeks of training, surrounded by other volunteers, and a beautiful weekend at the beach with my friends…. My house is suddenly a very different and unfamiliar place.
Just as quickly as I entered, I left. I walked down the dirt road to Doras house, knowing that her cute little grand children would be sure to cheer me up. And even before I got there, at least 3 families stopped me with bright smiles upon my return. Jaclyns father actually got up from his hammock and walked over to the fence, as opposed to his usual wave to welcome me. Marjorie and Caterine called my name from the hill above my house and I could even make out the smiles of their limited teeth supply in the dark. My dear little Karime road up on her grandpas horse…a 3 year old clinging to his back- picture perfect. We shared stories and hugs at Doras until my yawning become way too uncontrollable to have pleasant conversation any longer…and I headed home. It started pouring and I hoped that the awkwardness of my time gone was being washed away. I pictured the dust, the mold, the spiders and scorpions cleansed away. Barros belongings tied up away in a bag, awaiting a new recipient. And the rain became my new music to lull me asleep. I am ready to start working in my community!
Happy Fathers Day
I took some time to reflect today about my Daddy…I don’t know about your dad, but mine is really talented. He can perfectly remove the stems of strawberries so that alls I have to do is dip them in sugar without worrying about a little leaf sneaking in. He can give horsey rides and play hide and seek better than any 5 year old…even if it means winning by falling asleep in the basement. He can build pools and swing sets, drive motorcycles, boats and planes, cook breakfast and grill steaks. Most importantly, he can always make me laugh. Maybe at times it has come down to the “pull my finger” trick… but he always can. And I miss him a lot today. I love you Dad! Happy Fathers Day.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Malas Noticias
RIP Barro Zeus
I have now come to terms with the fact that Barro, my little puppy, has passed away. So I am saying goodbye and would like to share it with my friends...who mostly never got to meet him, but seemed to also revel in his cuteness with me. He became very ill for the 3rd time and this time he couldn't pull through. He passed away in the night last week, the 8th of June. I came home to him vomiting and severely dehydrated and skinny after 3 days without food. He looked up at me, his eyes barren, tried to take one sip of water, and had little energy left for anything else. He crawled to a nearby bush and I covered him in his towel. It started to rain and when he didn't come inside, I knew he was saying goodbye. I am very sad that he is no longer with me, but I'd like to think he had a happy little life with me. The truth is, he suffered a lot and perhaps it is better this way. May he rest peacefully now.
a Barro, con carino...
Tengo un dolor del corazon,
Porque no estas aqui conmigo.
El tiempo que tuvimos fue corto,
Pero siempre estaba contenta contigo.
Se dice que duermes en el cielo de perros,
como en el pie de mi cama dormiste.
Espero que sigas sus amigos alli,
como cualquier lugar you fui, tu fuiste.
Pieno que tuvieras una buena vida,
pero sufriste un poco en realidad.
Ahora, puedes descansar en paz...
muchisma gracias por tu amistad.
A poem for my little guy. Since I did not get to give him a proper burial... and his home is not here, at the San Vicente training center but in my site in Morazan, my plan is to have a little curial for him when I get back. With this poem.
The next few months I will focus on myself and my community...perhaps it was too soon for a puppy. So don't be sad for Barro, because he was always sick and now he is not in pain. And don't be sad for me, because life goes on!
And I promise my next entry will not be so depressing!
I have now come to terms with the fact that Barro, my little puppy, has passed away. So I am saying goodbye and would like to share it with my friends...who mostly never got to meet him, but seemed to also revel in his cuteness with me. He became very ill for the 3rd time and this time he couldn't pull through. He passed away in the night last week, the 8th of June. I came home to him vomiting and severely dehydrated and skinny after 3 days without food. He looked up at me, his eyes barren, tried to take one sip of water, and had little energy left for anything else. He crawled to a nearby bush and I covered him in his towel. It started to rain and when he didn't come inside, I knew he was saying goodbye. I am very sad that he is no longer with me, but I'd like to think he had a happy little life with me. The truth is, he suffered a lot and perhaps it is better this way. May he rest peacefully now.
a Barro, con carino...
Tengo un dolor del corazon,
Porque no estas aqui conmigo.
El tiempo que tuvimos fue corto,
Pero siempre estaba contenta contigo.
Se dice que duermes en el cielo de perros,
como en el pie de mi cama dormiste.
Espero que sigas sus amigos alli,
como cualquier lugar you fui, tu fuiste.
Pieno que tuvieras una buena vida,
pero sufriste un poco en realidad.
Ahora, puedes descansar en paz...
muchisma gracias por tu amistad.
A poem for my little guy. Since I did not get to give him a proper burial... and his home is not here, at the San Vicente training center but in my site in Morazan, my plan is to have a little curial for him when I get back. With this poem.
The next few months I will focus on myself and my community...perhaps it was too soon for a puppy. So don't be sad for Barro, because he was always sick and now he is not in pain. And don't be sad for me, because life goes on!
And I promise my next entry will not be so depressing!
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