Thanksgiving Thanks

Thought I would just write a quick note to commemorate today and express how incredibly thankful I am for all the friends and family I have been so abundantly blessed to walk through life with.

I was thinking the other day about how in the states we have so many "security nets" that we buy or practice to make us feel protected from god knows what. There's everything from life insurance, health insurance, car insurance, house insurance, fire, flood and renters insurance, security systems, seat belts, air bags... all of which I do not have now nor does anyone in my community. Funny thing is, I feel no less safe. I know that if something was to happen to me I'd have several dozen families here and abroad doing whatever they could to help me. These are my true security nets. If my house was to burn down or get burgularized or my health fail I would NOT find my solace in a late coming check from an insurance company but I what I would need most is you. Your love, support, care and protection.

Fortunately most of us have the choice to buy all types of insurance to protect from all sorts of problems life might throw us, but most people in the world including Salvadorans do not. When all goes to hell they turn to each other because that's pretty much all they've got. And not surprisingly, they seem to always bounce back on their feet. The human race is so amazingly resilient, but I believe it's only because we have each other to hold us and patch us up through horrific and often unbearable situations.

It was amazing to see the help pouring in from the Salvadoran population to help out the victims of the recent flood in the San Vicente area. Donations, volunteers and support from people who probably don't have much themselves. We worked all day and into the night receiving LOCAL donations. Honestly, it was shocking and beautiful.

All this to say THANK YOU, to all of you, my security blankets. You are the ones who make the difference, who make laughter ignite amongst grief, smiles appear in sadness and joy fill hardened hearts and THAT'S really what life's about. Happy Thanksgiving!

Side Note: Dad is here visiting me this week. We are on the Isla Meanguera today and about to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner prepared by an American-Salvadoran family, sitting on the dock surrounded by volcanic islands. It smells SO good. They even had the canned cranberries shipped over. I can't wait!

House Visits = Lots of Eating

House visits are a part of orientation into our community and help to us meet people and get integrated. I have been doing them off and on for the last month wandering down the street and up to doors that look friendly enough. They are usually open with several kids and dogs running around outside wondering why the gringa is at their house.

This past Saturday I set out to do a couple house visits and meet some new people. What I found along the way were several new tasty delights and a very full belly that I would like to share with you.

At the first house I went to was a family I already knew. They were out back all standing around the wood burning oven waiting for it to heat up so they could sweep out the flames and bake some TOTOPOSTES. Totopostes are a baked crunchy bread thing made from corn and cheese. The roll them into little donuts and dip them in coffee, because if you don’t you might break your teeth. They aren’t my favorite corn product here, but they serve to help stomach the bad coffee.

Next I went next door to Flori´s house. She is one of the girls I have gotten to know pretty well, however she had never invited me to her house, which is weird. I asked her why and she said "Porque es fea." (Because it’s ugly.) Well, I’m not going to argue with her, but more importantly what sort of afternoon snack were they going to inevitably provide? Moments after greeting and sitting to chat a plate of NUEGADOS little fried donut things covered in a brown syrupy sauce were handed to me by one of their 8 kids. They were sort of like fried totopostes covered in a “miel” they make out of sugar cane. Although far less healthy, they were much more tasty than the dry totopostes and coffee. (They are fried and covered in sugar. You pretty much can’t go wrong!) They apologized I had to eat them with my fingers because they have no silverware. Eating with utensils is very optional here and often enthusiastically avoided. It grossed me out at first but I have grown used to it and was happy to get my fingers sticky to enjoy the conversation and yet another Salvadoran food.

The house visits continued to the next house, also family of the first two houses. It was the last house on the road and by far the shabbiest. Never the less, I was attacked with hugs by 3 filthy barefoot kids I recognized from the school. This family also has 8 precious kids of which sadly only 4 are in school. They invited me in and I found their mom relaxing in the hammock. Had the kids not been there, I still would have known exactly who her kids were. They all have these strong black eyes and big-teeth white smiles. I honestly did not think she would offer me any food or drink because of the extreme poor conditions they live it, but here it came, a plate of atole de ayote, which is like corn flour drink with pumpkin, however it was served thick on a plate with a spoon. I love ayote (pumpkin) so I happily ate my third plate of the day while I chatted with Niña Luisa.

After that I had to take a short break, but later had to run an errand to my dear friend Victorio’s house. He is a farmer and LOVES to plant crops. He has no kids, which is very strange for this part of the world, so he pours all his energy into farming and sharing his crops with friends and family. Without fail there is always some sort of fresh dish to try made entirely with ingredients from his garden and fields. So far he has shared with me his corn, pumpkins, squash, coconuts, green beans, red beans, oranges, coffee, 4 different kinds of bananas, and anona. That day it was ayote en dulce, which is pumpkin that has been baked and sweetened with sugar cane. You can eat it with a spoon or just pick it up and eat it like a slice of watermelon. It’s delicious!

It was a barbaric quantity of food I ate that day, but fortunately I didn’t have to worry about lunch or dinner. Culturally it would have been really rude for me to deny their offers to feed me. Salvadorans show their love with food, so at least I feel very loved… and stuffed. Salvadorans desire and capacity to share all that they have amazes me. If they make something it never only reaches just the tummies that inhabit that kitchen, but will always be shared with visitors neighbors and if there is any left, the dogs. Several times a week a son or daughter will show up at my house with a gift of cheese, tamales, papaya or some other offering. They don’t have much, sometimes its just beans and tortillas, but it is always there to be shared and enjoyed amongst good company.

A day in the life

I've been in Las Marias now for almost 3 weeks and time is flying by. I remember my first week in San Vicente and how it felt like an eternity. Life here is just easier, nicer, and more comfortable. I have grown accustomed to the chilly bucket baths, tortillas and beans at every meal, saying hello to everyone, never being alone, sunset at 6pm, making house visits, walking an hour to the post office, jogging up and down the steep hills and constantly being stared at for being the only gringa in town. I actually love the tortillas and the beans AND the cuajada (cheese curds) now. Funny how liking where you are changes everything. The food tastes better, the sun shines brighter, people are more friendly, and everything is greener and prettier.

A normal day here starts with breakfast, a run and a shower or bucket bath depending on the time of day and if we have water. Then I head up to the school, which is just up the only paved street in town. I don't really have a schedule at the school. I just show up and walk into whatever class and all the students shout "Bienvenida!" It's awesome. I try to learn their names by signing "Flor, Flor, Bo, Bor, Banana, Fana, Fo, For, Me, My, Mo, More, Flor." They love it and then they want a dinamica or song. I have taught them "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" and that shark song we used to sing "Baby shark toot toot toot toot" among others. They laugh at me a lot. Probably because they think I'm nuts, but that's OK.

In the evening I try to do at least one house visit and community investigation. These can be awkward at first, but I always end up learning something and having a good time. I walk up to any random house and just introduce myself. They are generally super welcoming and invite me in to sit and have corn coffee, which is exactly what the name suggests. They drink this watery corny coffee because it is cheaper and easier on their stomach. But in a country where the number one export is coffee, I just don't understand why they wouldn't have good strong coffee. I've come to realize though that there are just going to be things that I will never understand here, and that's OK.

After dinner Lety, my host mom, and I hang out. She is awesome. She has three kids who all live between San Salvador and San Miguel, but after her mom passed away she came to Las Marias to take care of her father. She has such a positive and cheerful out look on life. She has really helped me meet people and integrate in to the community. People are constantly stopping by for charamuscas, chocobananas or just to say hi. We talk about everything and watch our novelas, which are basically Spanish soap operas. They are terrible but so addicting. Hahaha! We cenar more tortillas and lots of beans, eggs, and cheese and I eat it up. Could this be love?

I am off to San Miguel for the weekend to visit Lety's kids. I am really loking forward to it. That's all for now. Que le vaya bien!

Jennifer...we´re home.

Milking a cow at 6am with my counterpart, Tommy.
Top of the Cerro de Las Marias with some kids. Awesome view! If it was clear you could see all the way to the Pacific.


Celebrating Central America`s Independence week at school. Aren`t they precious?!!

Swearing in. Shaking hands. Ceren, El Salvador's Vice President, is second from the left. We felt like kind of a big deal.

I have enough stories and emotion built up over the past two weeks to write a book, but I will try to condense it all to one bearable sitting.

“Jennifer, we’re home.” is what Grant, a fellow PC volunteer, said to me the first day we arrived to El Salvador. We were taking to bus from the airport to San Vicente were we would stay for two months of training. I was excited to be here, but “home” is not exactly what I would have called it at the moment. Nor throughout training would I say I was comfortable calling it home, not because I was hesitant to accept my new life here, but because I knew that in a few weeks I would move off to my permanent community, an unknown place at the moment, to stay for the duration of two years. THIS was the place I wanted to call home, but I would have to wait. And wait. And wait some more.

The day finally came, August 27th, when we would be informed of that mysterious point on the map where we would be sent for better or for worse to live, love and work. The energy in the room was electric, everyone crossing their fingers for at least running water and electricity. I was the last of the 33 trainees to receive my site. Drum roll… Canton Las Marias, Nueva Esparta, Departamento La Union. Yay! But it still was just a green star on the map that looked really far away. I heard it was a beautiful little town, about 800 people, set in the mountains close to the northeastern Honduran border, and best of all the weather is cooler! I still had to wait 9 more days to actually get there to see the setting my life would take place in for the next 24 months. By “cool” did they mean I would just sweat less? By “little” did they mean so small I would not have any friends? I had so many questions, but I would have to wait some more for the answers. Patience is definitely something you learn or at least try to practice when living in a Latin American country.

We swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers on September 4th at a beautiful ceremony at the US Ambassadors Residence in San Salvador. But the real BIG day was the fifth when we would finally board the bus to La Union. There were several other volunteers headed in the same direction so poquito a poco we said our goodbyes to those headed west and boarded the Super Especial from San Salvador to San Miguel. It had been a long night and an early morning but I was in good spirits and feeling fine, until the bus started to twist and turn up and down the hills. As a kid I would have puked immediately, but I guess I’ve grown up a bit… I held it till we got to the San Miguel bus terminal. There it was finally time to say adios to my security blanket of fellow gringos and venture off on my own. I found the 390, a rickety old school bus painted bright colors which had faded to pastels over the wear and tear of the years, and settled behind the driver with my overstuffed backpack, a soda, and my pillow. I asked the driver how far the ride would be to Las Marias and he looked at me a little surprised and said “cuatro o cino horas.” What?!! Four or five hours. Dios mio! I had better get comfortable. Fortunately I ran into a veteran volunteer who turned out is my neighbor and had a teacher picking her up in a truck to take us the rest of the way. Que suerte!

The drive up into the mountains was beautiful, green and really bumpy. The sweat had finally stopped running down my back and I felt the air cooling off. Just outside Las Marias Isaac, our driver, stopped the SUV and said, we’re almost there but check out the view. To my left was a sea of mountains shared by the Honduran border and at the horizon was the Pacific Ocean. It was incredible! At this point I was super excited for all I could see of the area, all that was left was to meet the people.

I had seen pictures of my new casa were I would live with Nina Lety and her father, Tio Raul, but I was anxious to meet them. Then we pulled up in front of a cheery yellow and blue traditional Salvadoran home. She greeted by with a big hug and kiss and I knew I was finally somewhere I would one day call home. She invited us into her (clean!) house and offered us charamuscas de leche, which are little bags of frozen sweet cinnamon milk heaven. My counterparts Maritza, the school director, Tilo, her husband, and Don Catalino, the English teacher also came over. They were all so very kind and could not have been more welcoming. I could feel the warmth in their hugs and see the sincerity in their eyes. We sat around in hammocks on the porch talking, laughing and sucking on our charamuscas.

I have been here a week now introducing my self, greeting EVERYONE (that’s what you do here), visiting the school, teaching English, celebrating Central America’s independence week, walking the town, meeting with a group of kids with excess time on their hands since dropping out of school, milking cows, making tortillas and enjoying cool breezes and afternoon rains. I could not be happier or feel more blessed to be where I am, my new home. The waiting was worth it and the worrying wasn’t.

If you come to visit I will great you with hugs, kisses and sweet charamusca heaven. Start planning!

Resilience and Forgiveness

Despite all the little nuisances that I am slowly getting used to, there is undeniable tangible and intangible beauty here in The Savior. Green hills dive into the big blue Pacific, delicious, strange colorful fruits, cooling evening downpours to the tune of terrifyingly loud thunder, finger licking good pupusas, anything you could ever want made out of fresh sweet corn, volcano studded horizons, afternoon hammock naps, sincere smiles, kind resilient spirits, and Paula.

Paula is 94 and has lived in Tecoluca her entire life. I first met her when assigned to interview a community member about the history of Tecoluca. She is, Sarah, a fellow PC trainee’s host family grandmother. It took very little time for me to recognize and fall in love with the sweet motherly spirit of this precious white-haired, toothless woman who has lived through disastrous earthquakes that destroyed her town and home, a devastating civil war, and the death of her parents, husband and countless friends. Despite all this, Paula is such an encouraging and positive person. I have visited her several times since our first interview and I always leave with a smile on my face and a bit more hope in my heart. She offers uncomplicated words of wisdom and never forgets to express her appreciation for the work we are doing here. Her words are honest and simple, but profoundly cut to the heart of the matter.

A few nights ago I stopped by to visit Sarah and got to talk to Paula. I had been feeling down and lonely, but I put on a smile for Paula because she is always so happy to have visitors. She had no idea what was going on in my life, or my need for motherly affection and yet our conversation led to faith, angels and the hardships of life. She said that she has lived such a long and healthy life because she has learned how to forgive and not hold grudges. In her matter of fact way she explained how important the forgiveness of others and herself is to health and life. It was a simple message but one I needed to hear. I often find it relatively easy to forgive others, but not as simple to forgive myself. So tonight I forgave myself for not living up to the often impossible standards I hold for myself (among other things). I have to remind myself to do this on a regular basis. Ask for forgiveness. Forgive others. Forgive yourself.

Paula’s bittersweet story is not unusual. The Salvadoran people as a whole have not had it easy and continue a valiant battle. Only a mere 17 years ago the Peace Accords were signed to end their brutal civil war that tore the country apart for long over 12 years. Then came the earthquakes, landslides, volcano eruptions and hurricanes that plague this little piece of Pacific coast, it’s as if they will never be given the chance to get back on their feet. But they do, every day, with, from what I can tell, hearty helpings of forgiveness, faith, hope and love in their hearts… and of course plenty of rice, beans and tortillas.

P.S. I stopped by to say hi at Paula's house yesterday and I gave her a big hug. She was so thankful and said hugs added happiness and days to her life. I'm thinking about having her adopt me or maybe I can just pack her up and take her with me to La Union.

Loca For Luca (Training In Tecoluca)

Crap in the streets
All the bolos are creeps
Tortillas, rice and beans
Are all food here means
The occasional fried plantains or pupusa
Make things a little looser
Sweating all day and night
Makes me quite the site
The pastelitos de piña and frequent trips to the Nevi
Make me happy but heavy
But the drunks don’t seem to mind
As they shout piropos at my behind
Bugs in the kitchen
Not that I’m bitchin’
But the ants in the food
Puchica! That’s too much, dude
Getting wet in the rain, swimming and ice cream all give you toss
According to Merecedes and she’s the boss
The zancudos keep bitting
And the chuchos never stop fighting
At the end of my rope
About to loose all hope
I need a fun day
Then we take a trip to the Sheraton Sunday
Relax in the sun
And have a little too much fun
Then it’s back to San Vicente
For another medical session with Charro and my gente
Diarrhea, chinches, and STD’s
This life is a breeze
Let your hair loose
And learn about AIDS and condom use
Hours of lectures, investigations and classes on dichos
Would be unbearable without all my bichos
But soon training will be a thing of the past
And we’ll be off to our sites at last
I will look back on this time and laugh
Fill up the pila and take a cold bucket bath
The constant itch of the days bites
Roosters that crow all through the nights
Fearing the outcome of every meal
And that rumbly in my tumbly feel
But from East to West
We will give it our best
With faith and hope from the One above
It’s the hardest job you will ever love

De-coding the Caliche (Slang):
Bolos- the town drunks
Pupusa- typical Salvadoran grilled corn cake filled with cheese, beans, or chicharon
Paselitos de piña- sweet baked buttery heaven, 3 for .25 cents. I can afford that!
Nevi (La Neveria)- the ice cream shop
Piropos- whistles, hisses, shouts from men on the street
Puchica!- expression of surprise
Toss- cough
Mercedes- my Salvadoran madre
Zancudos- mosquitoes
Chuchos- street dogs
Sheraton- hotel in San Salvador; Salvadoran luxury at its best
San Vicente- Peace Corps training center site
Charro- Peace Corps dry humored, long winded staff doctor
Gente- people/ my bichos
Chinches- kissing bugs
Dichos- colloquial sayings
Bichos- kids/friends
Pila- the water tank you bathe and wash everything in

Coo Coo For Coco Puffs

The Tecoluca Cinco

Me, Marissa, Eric, Sarah & Kalli

It’s hard to believe I have already been in El Salvador for over a month and there’s only 3 weeks of training left. September 3rd we will swear in, put on our big kid pants and venture off into the big bad real word of volunteer life. Training has been informative and helpful, but I am ready to move on to the real adventure. Most of all it has been great getting to be so close to all the other trainees and spend so much time together speaking Spanglish, swapping crazy stories about our host families, bugs and buses, sweating profusely, swatting mosquitoes, and spending the majority of our stipend on lots and lots of ice cream at La Neveria.

Lesson Learned: Don Jose, the English teacher

As part of training we are expected to observe and teach an English class at the local school. A few weeks ago we went to the school to introduce ourselves to the English teacher, Don Jose, a short Salvadoran man with thick glasses, some serious silver dental work, and a wiggle in his walk. At first I wasn’t sure if he seemed a little off because we were speaking in English and it was his second language, or if he is really a little bit crazy. So we tried speaking in Spanish, but he insisted we speak in English even though we had to repeat and reword a lot in order for him to understand. After canceling his class and sending all the students out to play so that we could sit in the classroom (odd), he was extremely excited to tell us about his teaching methods, share his materials with us, and explain his philosophy of “hacerse payaso” which basically means acting like a clown to get your students attention. In his case however it might just mean being himself! The objective of the meeting however was just to set up a time we could come observe one of his classes. Unfortunately even though he had his schedule in front of him he had no idea what time any of the classes begin or end, so we just decided we would come by another time. On a subsequent visit with the school director we caught Don Jose in his arts & crafts class. They were making piñatas to the tune of a 70’s disco mix blaring across the schoolyard. The best part however was watching Don Pedro display his dance moves for everyone. He was having a grand old time shaking his grove thang, grabbing students to dance and laughing so that all his silver teeth shone in the sunlight. The bewildered teenagers didn’t seem to mind much and even seemed to enjoy the spectacle.
This morning we stopped by the school for our surprise observation. Don José was happy to see us and let us each take a tiny desk in the back of the class. The class went (surprisingly) really well. He taught the majority of it in English, sans disco music, and I think about half the kids knew generally what was going on. The funniest part to me was that out of the 32 students there he did not know a single one of their names. He called them all “you” and was playful in the “payaso” sort of way. I am not going to deny I think he’s a little nuts, but the kids love him. They pay attention even though he doesn’t call them by name, they laugh and they participate. I can’t always say that much for my students. So I guess all this to say he may be coo coo for coco puffs, but the kids are too! Lesson learned here: perhaps sanity is overrated, which in my case might be a good thing sometimes.