Espereme!

Last week I had a meeting with my girls soccer team scheduled for 1 pm to discuss fundraising so we can travel to neighboring towns. At 12pm I was to meet with Leo to price the jewelry my Artesania group made for me to sell at the Feria Internacional. And my counterpart had just notified me that there was an important ADESCO meeting at 2pm.

I rushed around the house all morning. I ran to my neighbors house to buy some soap to wash clothes. I soak the clothes in a bucket of detergent, feed the pup, wipe down the tables from the cat pawprints from his nightly adventures (I need to get window panes!), seep, yoga, make breakfast, wash dishes, scrub clothes, hang clothes, feed pup…

I run out the door at 11:45am. I lock up and turn around. I face the neighbors horses in my yard…they have eaten all of my first corn harvest and parts of 2 banana trees. Shit, I left the gate open. Ughhh, I run back to the neighbors – how do I get out the caballos? “You just shooo them”- they demonstrate with hand signals. I run back to my yard. “Vaya, vaya!” I yell. I’m standing far too far behind them for my stick waving to have any effect but eventually they bore and trot out my gate. As I walk out behind them, I notice they reciprocated the favor on my shoe.

It was 12:10pm…”I’m early” I thought. Leo arrives at 12:30, he thinks he’s early. There’s chatting…I look at my watcvh…A few girls from my team are getting to the field…it’s 1:05pm. Still missing half the team. Leo is eating pan dulce and coffee….

All meetings conveniently end up starting promptly at 3pm. I run from one to the other. I give up. I stay at the ADESCO meeting. We need to discuss our upcoming Christmas event. We end up gossiping ¾ of the time. ½ of that time is about me. What do I do when I go to the capital? Am I dating Fidel? Brock? Am I gaining weight? Will I come back after I leave for Christmas?

Today, I think about that question. Okay, not to scare people, yes I will come back. But I just got back from vacation. I was in Belize for 5 days. I didn’t have to speak Spanish…but I did anyway. (Its hard to kick the “No, Gracias” habit towards street vendors). I didn’t have to wear long skirts or closed sandals. I didn’t have to say Salu 300 times a day or deny cold cervezas. I just relaxed.

I swam with sharks. I cave tubed and zip lined through the jungle. I layed on the beach and listened to reggae music. I saw dread locks instead of sombreros and I watched the sunset with Jimmy at my side. I felt the wind and salty sea water on my face sitting on the bow of boats. I heard “Ay whats up mon?” instead of “que tal vos?”. I fell in the sand practicing headstands instead of on cement floors and rocky soccer fields. I ate fresh fish instead of fried tortillas and I drank bottled Belikin instead of bags of water.

After 5 days of tranquility I returned to La Montanita…but this time with Jimmy. If 2 gringos at one time wasn’t enough excitement for my village…the names Jaime and Jimmy sure pushed them over the edge. We played cards for countless horas with the neighbors, ate bean soup and refried beans and beans nuevos and…We had a girls soccer tournament- well I did, he had a 3 hour viewing session. We went to a tourist center for the ADESCO’s end of the year despedida party. We watched movies in my hammock. We put up Christmas lights and stocking my Dad sent me around my house. We shared cups of coffee in the morning…I learned I make it way too strong. He met vaquito, my pup. He met the roosters in the morning at 5 am :D We machete’d up a tree that fell in my yard while I was gone. Well, he did- I had an hour viewing session.

But now, I wake up alone. I sit alone, yet again, at my coffee table. I put on music to drone out the silence…the loneliness. I hear the lines “tears taste the same when they splash on our face” and I think of him. I think of my family and my friends at home. I can’t wait to see them. I see the pictures on my walls. Maddie with long hair. My friends laughing at the bar. Standing with my sisters in the upstate waterfalls. My relatives at my grandma’s 80th birthday…that was 12 years ago??? Where does the time go?

I’ll have been here 11 months upon my first visit home. Could I have really been here 11 months? Do I really have 15 more? Will I make it? Will I come back after Christmas?

This will surely be another challenge. I can’t wait to be home. I couldn’t wait for Belize. For Jimmy to come. But it is hard now. I got used to living alone. I got used to my community. But to have someone here and then taken away is really hard. And now I will have all my friends and family at home within reach. And I’ll have to say goodbye once again. Ughh.

You know, some days its so easy. Alls it takes is a hug from Lili. A “Buenos Dias Corazon” from Jose. A movie in the hammock with Vaquito. The sunrise over the mountains. A walk down the trail to the waterfalls. Someone giving me their seat on the bus. El torogoz birdie perched on the tree outside my window chirping.

But other days its so hard. I want to see Amanda playing tennis… and I want to help her pass math! I want to meet up with Christina and Danielle in DC to have lunch. I want to put up Christmas lights with my Dad. I want to set the table while my Mom cooks dinner. I want to go running with Sam and then sit on the couch with her while she growls at Amanda. I want to see my Grandma on her new bike and eat her salami pie. I want to lay on her shoulder while she pets my head. I want to laugh with my friends at the diner and get dressed up and go out.

I think about my most recent meeting with Intervida. The guy in front of my playing with his machete. The girl to my left breast feeding a baby just 15 years younger than she. The girl to my right sporting prom shoes. The guy behind me passed out, head dangled forward, rocking a hat that reads “CRAZY”. How did I end up here?

I have learned a lot this past year. I have seen a lot and done a lot. But I have missed so much. And it will be so hard while I’m home to realize what I am going to be missing next year. I often forget while I’m down here that life is moving on at home. I forgot that it was summertime at home. I forgot seasons were passing and kids were graduating. I still think it will be February 2nd when I get home. Christina will be in high school and living at home. My friends, all how I left them. I just hope nothing changes too much. And that everyone will wait for me to move back in 2012!

Zapo Verde

"Zapo Verde" literally translates into Green Frog. A lot of community members from La Montana said this to me this week. When pronounced, it sounds like Happy Birthday in English. It is very amusing to my amigos aqui...

I have smiled a lot the past few days. My birthday, lets be honest, really is not a big deal. I turned 23...not a monumental age...and the celebration was not meant to be anything grandiose. I did not tell many people about my birthday but I wanted to use the day as an excuse to sit around with all my favorite community members.

One of my counterparts and dear friends made me a lovely birhtday lunch...sponsored by another pc volunteer and friend...and then we headed to my house for a small cake I purchased. I invited my closest neighbors in the vicinity...totaling about 15 kids. I turned around with cake in my hand and looked into the eyes of 78 toothless smiling little faces.

My other counterpart showed up with a pinata and we all held flashlights as kids dodged the swinging piece of wood in Jose's hands. I took pictures and laughed as the kids ran all over the place. I tried to rescue little Vacito from the trampling feet as best as I could. And I accepted the dirty hands smearing cake cream all over my face. Unfortunately, the small cake only allowed less than a sliver for each child, but no one complained...although I did spend most of the rest of the night picking up paper plates and candy wrappers from every corner of my house and yard.

I spent the rest of the night cleaning, burning trash and packing for a long weekend. I woke up at 3am to shower in the pitch blackness but serenity of the night/morning and soon began my journey across the country. I barely put my phone down throughout the day, reading texts and answering calls from my far away family and friends...and my cheeks are still sore from smiling.

I was thrilled to receive a call from the PC El Salvador country director inviting me to participate in an international event at the US Embassy next weekend. Did I say that I won a Grant to support my Artesania group from the US Embassy? Things are going pretty well.

Excited to continue the night celebrating with my awesome Peace Corps friends...Chelsea wants a shout out for her awesomeness in particular...and will bring more updates next time. For now, thanks to all of you my dear family and friends! I love and miss you all!!!

A Christmas Miracle

Okay, I know it has been awhile. Perdon. And I actually have a few good stories to share. Espereme. But first things first.

MIRACLE #1:

A local community organization would like to setup a Christmas event for my community. The community will be providing the staff, food, music, pinatas, etc. My counterpart, a sweet lady named Dora, who I am very close with, has asked me to help donate gifts. We are going to put on an event so that the children can come celebrate Christmas and win some small toys.

That being said, if anyone is interested, please send any cheap, small toys, games to the follow address. USPS ONLY.

Jaime Posa & Maria Auxiliadora Sorto Sanchez
Barrio Centro
Municipio de Osicala
Departamento de Morazan
El Salvador
America Central

I have never had a problem receiving mail to this address as long as it is sent USPS. However, it is a little pricey so, con cuidado. If you would like to help out in another way, please email me. Posa.Jaime@gmail.com. There are other options I have in mind and I'd be more than willing to work with you!!!

Suggested items:
Think Cheap! Seriously!!
Decks of Cards
Balls
Stuffed Animals
Bubbles
Marbles
Spanish Books
Grocery Store Toys
Soccer ball pump!

Nothing big, fancy, elaborate or expensive. They won't know or cherish it's value!

MIRACLE #2

One of my schools is looking to set up a computer lab. There is an organization that Peace Corps is currently working with that sells cheap computers to schools and institutions here. If you would like to help out or have any ideas for projects, please contact me: posa.jaime@gmail.com

MIRACLE #3

Okay, my Birthday is next week and Christmas is coming up. I would ask that if you have any desire to buy/send me something, do it in the name of my community. Please contact me or my sister Danielle first if you are thinking about it so I can make sure there are no duplicates. Here are my thoughts:

1. You help out with one of the above projects.

2. My girls soccer team would LOVE some uniforms, so we could have a full set. I was thinking it would be awesome to get their names on the back...but we'll see about that.

3. We also need a soccer ball pump and whistle. Any other accessories you have lying around. But again, contact me!

4. I would love to set up a women's exercise class. Yoga Mats would be ideal. Plus healthy snacks as rewards/motivations. And to remind them, chips are not a good dinner plate!

Feel free to email me at anytime. I love to hear from you!

My next blog will have some interesting updates and stories. Te Prometo!

lots of love

Happiness

I woke up shivering this morning. I tossed and turned for a little bit. I thought to myself… I’ve rested enough that it’s time to get up. But I don’t want to untie myself from the cozy ball of my blankets. I’m still cold. And I have to pee. I want my sweater. And I want my latrine. I turn and look up at my “ceiling”. There is a little bit of light peeking through the crack in the middle, but not enough to illuminate the room. I estimate it’s 5:30am. I pull back the mosquitero, climb under, and slip on my flip flops. I reach for my phone from the shelf where service hits and look at it from beneath squinting, sleepy eyes. 5:26am. I pull my sweater over my head and head outside.

It’s so quiet at this time and I smile when I look around me. It’s been 8 months. Will this view ever get old? Will the backdrop of the mountains and the pearly white waterfall in the distance ever seize to inspire me? Will I forget the way the clouds blanket my neighbor’s farm at dawn? Will I miss the sound of crickets, birds, roosters and cows? I barely hear them anymore. It’s just music in the background now. It’s just so quiet. Well…it was. There goes Carolina’s music echoing from down by the futbol field. “And still I see no changes…” is now rapping through La Montanita. Pues, Tupac, ya tenemos a black President.

I turn on the water faucet with my small coffee tin in hand. Shit, no water. Good excuse not to shower today? It’s so cold! My mind flashes to my US bathroom. Less than 3 months until hot water…
I scoop some agua up from the water basin. I peer down into it. No mosquito larva? Cool. Luckily, I cleaned the pila Thursday. I put the water on the stove and wait for it to boil. I can already smell the coffee and I haven’t even opened the bag. I wonder how crack addicts do it.

Its 5:45am. I have 2 meetings today… First one being at 10am- girls’ soccer team practice. I’m still so proud of them for playing their first game without me being there. Sustainability!  (INSERT: Request for friends and family at home to send an old soccer cleats you have lying around. 80% of my team plays barefoot…if you think that’s impressive you should see the “field”. Not exactly the Pville turf.) Second meeting, Artesania. I’m so happy that at least 20 youth have been showing up every Saturday. We are learning how to make a lot of cool stuff and I hope to start selling in the next few months.  (INSERT: Let me know if you would be interested in buying!) I’m really proud of them for also managing their own fundraiser. Man people can be shy here. Selling raffle tickets to a bunch of strangers started out as a terrifying day. But I was really proud of my girls who ended up selling over 60 tickets. Anyway… I have 2 meetings today… I should start planning. But I’m still cold and my eyes are still sleeping. My hammock is just swaying there taunting me. I pull my blanket off my bed, wrap it around my shoulders, put on some socks (Is it really this cold? December in New York?) and grab “Buddha” (the book) off my table.

“You’d be better off with an honest living that doesn’t depend on another man’s sweat”

…I read after 20 minutes of hammock time. I think about my future. In a year and a half, I return to the states.
Wandering down the streets saying hello to friends and sharing many cups of coffee will be esoteric. A workday consisting of running the soccer field will be non-existent. And trying to find a job that is not 9-5pm is unheard of. I worry about my future. I think about this statement above. I want to work hard and I want an honest job. I want to appreciate life. I like to believe money is not that important… but than again I’ve never lived poor. I’ve never really struggled. Even now, lets face it, I have privileges my community does not. I want a job I love, I want to say “who cares what it pays if I love it” but I also want to support my family. I want to be able to give them everything. Will it be possible?

I underline this part of the book and head outside. Again, I am taken aback by the site before me. Am I crazy? Too much of a visionary? Will reality someday hit me and I won’t see the beauty in all that is simply before me? Whatever. Right now, I am happy. I take a deep breath and stretch my arms up to the sky. Ah I am so lucky. I want to feel this way forever.

November Rain

Sometimes when I’m writing these blogs, I forget that they are public. I am writing what is on my mind without the intention of offending, pleasing, entertaining, confusing or scaring anyone. I am just writing what’s on my mind. Today, my mind is heavy. So I don’t know how this blog will end up.

I feel like this:

You see that glass of anisette before you? Now you just see anisette. I, on the other hand, because I need to be inside everything I do, see the plant it came from, the storms the plant endured, the hand that picked the grain, the voyage by ship from another land, the smells and colors with which the plant allowed itself to be imbued before it was placed in the alcohol. If I were to paint this scene, I would paint all those things, even though, when you saw the painting, you would think you were looking at a simple glass of anisette.
-Paulo Coehlo, Eleven Minutes

24 year old Maria* was intriguing from the day I met her. She boasted about her 5 year old daughter who is excelling ambitiously in school and just won a dollar for dancing the best at Student Appreciation Day. Maria is beautiful without trying and so animated when she speaks that sometimes you have to remind yourself to blink. She shows up to meetings on time and participates willingly. Maria greets me by my name everytime she sees me. But just the other day I learned about a new side of Maria. She was orphaned at the age of 3 and moved houses a lot with her only sister, growing up without a home. She fell into the hands of an abusive boyfriend who is now the father of her child and owner of her house. She desperately wanted to continue her studies and to be a professional and now she needs to get permission from this man to leave her house, and who knows what awaits her when she returns.

6 year old Saira lives with her grandma and family of her 3 year old cousin, Katie. She doesn’t know her father, who left for the States while her teenage mother was pregnant. The same mother now lives 2 hours away and seldom comes to visit. Saira calls her mother by her first name. Katie is the baby and cute as a button. While Saira is washing dishes, Katie is playing with new toys her grandma brought from the market. When grandma comes home with 2 new pairs of shoes, and Katie likes Saira’s better, Katie gets those shoes. Katie whines and cries for the shoes loudly, but Saira weeps. Saira is quiet and often falls out of the picture. But her eyes light up when you acknowledge her.

I had all of my students write down 3 things they like on the back of their name tags. Many read like this:
-I like to look for firewood for the house
-I like to clean the house (coming from a young boy)
-I like to wash dishes
-I like to spend time with my family
-I like to help my mom
I smiled reading them. I don’t see little Joanna anymore. I see a 7 year old girl, proud to contribute to the family work. I don’t see Erick, but an innocent boy who does not know what “machismo” is and is happy to help with household chores. I see kids who are appreciative, hard-working and beautiful; each in their own way.

I think about how I saw my community when I first, first walked in. I saw a broken road, heard noisy farm animals and smelled burning trash. I felt the dirt floors I walked on and did not understand the language that passed through my ears. I thought to myself, how different this place is.

But now, I see my community. I didn’t see it before. I see the suffering, the struggles and the hardships. I see the longing, the hope and the aspirations. I see the kindness, the warmth and the selflessness. I don’t see Maria and Saira anymore. I don’t see my students or my canton. I see much more. When Maria greets me, I see a strong woman who is lost and asking for help. I see strength and determination in her eyes but I can feel the weight of the chains pulling her back. When Saira runs up and throws her arms around me, I don’t see a 6 year old child. I see a heart throbbing for love. I don’t feel her hug, I feel her relief. I think about people from back home and realize how similar this place is.

It is raining non-stop for day 6 now. I have not seen the sky since last Friday and the past 2 days I have not even been able to see the tree tops. Classes are canceled til Monday. The country is alternating between Red and Orange Alert, while evacuating thousands of people and clearing countless landslides. My road is flooded and my washed clothes still hang sopping wet on my lines. The rain pounds hard on my tin roof, but I don’t hear it.


*The stories are real but the names have been changed.

Independence Day

Tomorrow, the 15th of September, marks Independence Day for El Salvador. Today, I finished celebration #2, and am awaiting #3 tomorrow. As much as I am enjoying this time, seeing my community have pride in their country, I can´t help but think back on my past celebrations of Independence Day in the US. Sitting on the front of the boat with high school friends and my Dad up at the wheel, the Macy´s fireworks sprinking down upon us.

My days pass as usual. Moments of ¨what in the hell am I doing here¨ and moments of gratitude for this opportunity. I quickly looked away as we passed a dead horse, splayed in the middle of the road on our way back from town. I thought about how precious life is. I ignored the graffiti´d walls of the nearby canton and acted oblivious to the whistles from the men lurking in front.

But I turned and smiled at Naun as he yelled ¨Salu Nina Jaime!¨, as I hopped off the back of the pickup, passing a quarter to the driver and grabbing my basket off the dirt road. As the truck left me in the dust, I hesitated upon opening the fence to my little farmhouse. ¨I am so lucky.¨ I thought with a smile as I looked out at the view of the mountains and a trace of a waterfall in the distance. What a beautiful world.

I find myself having numerous moments like this. Moments that make me take a deep breathe and inhale all that is wonderful around me. Moments that make me close my eyelids and take a moment to appreciate everything before me. Moments where I smile from the beautiful thoughts that come to my mind from my precious community in the mountains. Even moments that brings tears to my eyes, but I´m not quite sure why.

I open my tiny square window in the morning to let in some light. I watch silently as Lesli and cousin Kilmer, my 6 year old nieghbors, splash happily through the giant puddles the nighttime rain has left. Their giggles make it impossible for me not to crack a grin and the buckets of ground corn they wear on their back seem weightless. This country holds so many stories...

With the news of a flight available to send me home for Christmas, I find myself spending most waking hours thinking about it. What will I do? What am I going to wear? What should I bring home? Will I remember to throw the toilet paper INSIDE the bowl? I actually started convince myself that this trip was going to be next week, instead of about 4 months away. I am more than ecstatic to see my family and friends, to shower with hot water, to eat a toasted bagel and new york pizza, to curl up on a couch with a blanket, to go running with Sam, to watch a tv...in English...and a show NOT being a soap opera...but mostly, to see my family and friends. I miss everyone so much.

And all the pride that is being spread this week in the name of El Salvador´s Independence Day, makes me all the more homesick. I am so proud to be here during this time and I am also really proud to be an American.

Some other more light-hearted news:

I believe I have acquired myself a new dog. A mangy street hound, also known here as a chucho, has set up shop on my patio-like-area. One day I was doing some cleaning and came across what used to be (before some insect munched it to pieces) a bag of Barro´s dog food. I threw it into the yard, where my new chucho came-a-running. Terribly ugly, I thought, he´s kinda cute, and threw him some more of Barro´s old junk I found. He hung out for awhile, but as the day passed he set out to look for Tramp and the junkyard dogs. Last night, I walked out to find chucho curled in a ball in the only spot my patio roof wasn´t leaking from a massive storm that hit us last night. I smiled. I kinda like my new dog.

Doble de Posa

Double Posa has officially ended and I am back to being the sole gringa in La Montana. Having my sister here for a week was an experience that I will undoubtedly remember forever. As I hand wash mounds of ropa, shaking away shards of glass and scrubbing out mud stains, I reminisce on the excitement we shared in just 7 short days. I’m filled with beautiful memories of our time together, yet overwhelmed with the current absence of her presence. My shelves are now filled with foreign food and unread novels, but my second coffee cup is empty at my table in the morning. I am so very grateful for everything my sister brought me, but it was HER that made our time so special and not the tangible amenities she spoiled me with.

I woke up at 3:30am and hitched a ride with my neighbor / landlord at 4am to the town center. I hopped out at 4:30, not a street light around, leaving behind a bottle of water, umbrella and banana in the car; 3 very missed items on a long bus ride in the rainy season. At 5am I waited for bus #2, still in absolute darkness, waiting for the door to open so I could choose my temporary bed for the next 3 hours. Que lastima que a friend recognized me and started up a rather un-entertaining conversation for me at the ass crack of dawn. About an hour into the trip, I politely said “please stop talking so I can go to sleep” and promptly passed out on the window pane. I awoke to the chanting of “terminal oriente, el terminal, terminal!, opened one eye to a slew of buses out the window and slowly prepared myself for bus #3.

I treated myself to a nice breakfast without 1 egg, nor 1 bean, reveled in an ice coffee and an air conditioned restaurant and reminded myself of the few things to be grateful for in the capital. Next, a cab to the shuttle, which was probably 3minutes away and yet cost me 4 dollars. I paid the same price to travel 3hours in the bus from my department to the capital. Again, que lastima. Then, I waited for the 10am shuttle to the airport, which would have been quite a pleasant little trip since I was the only one in there, had it not been for creepy looks and smiles from the driver via the rear view mirror.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic to see my sister emerge from the baggage claim area. My first visitor and family member I had seen in over 6 months, I was shaking from head to toe with excitement. I, for one moment, shared with the Salvadorans the excitement at seeing a gringa and just about whistled. Her backpack bulged like Santa Claus and side by side may have been bigger than her, and yet she came with just the clothes on her back. Fortunately, we had a rental car and I realized just how different the country is with your own set of wheels. The car itself is a long story on its own, but maybe Danielle will like to share that with you….

We headed off for la playa Tunco (that’s a beach) where we enjoyed the sun with friends for a couple of nights. Avoiding bolos walking down the beach, hooka nights and bar dancing, ice-coffee mornings at Dale Dale, learning to hammock and loving Anonas.

Leaving the beach was hard, physically and emotionally, but I was ecstatic to show my sister the community I live in. Albeit we had a few detours, and a 5 hour trip became more of a 9, we made it safe and sound.

We spent Sunday shopping at the morning market. We got some great CDs for 1 dolar, (can you pronounce “dolar” correctly yet?) and made a show haggling for some machetes. Danielle got her first “tipico”, eggs and beans, for lunch and then we crammed the bus to head back to my community.

I introduced Danielle to about 20 families and 20 conversations started the exact same way. “Pero como se parecen! Casi gemelas. Ella es la menor?” Yes we look alike. No we’re not twins. And No, I am not older. I wasn’t convinced that this was an insult…until someone asked if I was her mom.

I then took Danielle to our Adult Literacy Class…and she received a hand-made bag from one of the members (where’s mine?) She purchased the first hammock made by our community members :D and enough jewelry from my Artesania leader to allow him to leave work for the day and hike us through the mountains to the waterfalls. We house visited a bunch of families…of which one killed, roasted with spices and delivered to my house a full chicken. Try the “huevitos” the lady insisted. Questioning whether or not I was about to bite into the chicken’s balls entered my mind but I pushed it out as my cook watched me smiling.

My sister and I spent some quality time talking in my house, which ended in Danielle passing out in the hammock and me going for a walk to buy some stuff to make lunch. And soon we headed out for our next destination. We had to drive across country because I had another few days of training with a bunch of volunteers. She made the most of the time there, although I wish we could have spent the time doing other stuff together. But still, I was happy many of the other volunteers got to meet her.

Parting was hard, and almost a week later, I still gravely miss having my sister around. I still see her awkwardly approaching the hammock, certain its about to topple. I miss the nutella-choco-bananas. I’m still making-up car stories to the villagers. I had to put up 2 extra clothes lines to dry all the clothes we wore. My bed feels bigger than ever. I have yet to convince Freddy that Danielle does not want a long distance relationship with him. 5 community members are making hammocks because they think she will buy them all. After I answer the questions “when did she leave” I have to answer “when is she coming back”. And I long for internet connection in my house so I could flip through the pictures of our time together. It would be easier if the community would stop asking about her! Especially the police…..