How to Keep Track of Time

Okay Im back...

So last week, when my computer charger conveniently died and refused to come back to life and I woke up early to get to town to use the internet, only to find no signal and then it finally came back on and my blog got erased...

I was writing about how I have noticed that time, in fact, moves on. Sometimes youre just not so sure here. But when I looked at photos on facebook of my puppuy (do i talk about him too much?) and see how big he is already, I realized that he will be my judgement that the days are becoming weeks and a month will pass soon enough.

I had also written about the community diagnostic and census I have been doing. And while I thoroughly enjoy meeting all the different community members, the smiles on their faces when I enter their houses, paying careful attention not to smack my head on the roof as I do everytime I enter my counterparts, it is hard. To start the perspective off of how the day first day went, I walked into my counterparts house to meet her to start the house visits, and their were men their cutting her wires because she can{t pay her electricity bill. I should have seen this coming, as we would often sit in the dark of her house, struggling to make eye contact as we spoke over coffee. Its cooler with the lights out, she would tell me.

At the houses, the questions are awkward. When I ask if they have studied in school, they respond ^yes, up to second grade^. When I ask the women if they work, some say yes, in the house. When I ask if their 15 year old daughter is in school, they say no, she has to take care of her baby. When I ask if their husband works, they say, no because their is none. Or maybe in the fields, twice a week. Some make 30 dollars a month, and others are lucky to have 100. Few make more, but only because they have a son, a brother, a mother, in the states who sends them 50 bucks every 2 months.

Some houses are made of mud, others sticks. Some have torn up plastic somewhat sheltering the ceiling. Most just eat beans and corn and tortillas...when they can afford it. I feel very out of place at times and uncomfortable that I have so much more than they have.

But I can see potential for projects. I{d like to start some small businesses. I think I can get people to learn how to make hammocks and sell them. Id like to do a water project. A waste project. The roads need fixing. The children need better education. The adults need education. I hope I can help.

Unfortunately, its sometimes hard to not like it all get you down. I get sad and sometimes I feel a little helpless.

Its the little things that pick me back up. Like when my counterpart asks me if I would like to eat ¨pupusas or comida¨. I still dont get what that means. pupusas are also comida. but it makes me grin. I still am amused, and thoroughly repulsed, at how socially acceptable it is to hawk up a huge loogy and spit it on the floor of your house, your friends house or straight in the middle of your ADESCO meeting, as long as you smear it with your foot afterwards. I can{t open the side door of my house without 3-9 children running in, torturing my dog, sweeping my floor and offering me paternos. mmm good fruit.

My mornings usually always start off well. A book in the hammock. Mangos freshly fallen on the ground outside. A refreshing outdoor shower. But everyday is sure to have hard moments. You just have to keep the right mindset.

That being said, I am extremely homesick right now, and would like nothing more than being in an air conditioned house, watching a movie on the couch wrapped in a blanket with my mommy close by. I better look at photos to see how much my dog has grow...its been 3 weeks since I got him...