Fotos 3

The infamous Pecas. I bet I will end up adopting that flea-bitten cutie before I head out to my site.

The freaking ducks here are the ugliest things Ive ever seen. And they have toenails!
Cutest host siblings ever? Angelito, Albita, Sarita...showing off their tin foil teeth.

fotos 2

The above photos are my family working in the molienda- making sweets and molasses out of boiled sugar. It´s really beautiful at night. And to the left are my host sisters, sarita and alba.

Fotos at last

People were asking for photos...I finally found time and figured out (maybe) how to do this. However, I didn´t tone them or anything, so they might be sort of dark. I´ll improve later. This is one of my family´s horses, being caressed after getting an injection of vitamin B (I kind of want to learn how to give animal injections now, though I´m pretty sure PC prohibits us from giving any kind of injection...)

Here on the right, we have a bunch of neighborhood kids. Albita, a host sister, is on the left, and Angel, my host bro, is in the center. The rest are cousins.

This is an idea of what I come home to everyday.

Cutest host sister ever? Sarita.

Mama duck wasn´t too happy with me. And all but two of those ducklings are now dead.

party time!

A story I almost forgot to tell.

Last week in the nearby town of Vera Paz (about five minutes away in bus), there was a fiesta, and a carnival of sorts, in celebration of San José (I asked who this was….the reply I got was… “Saint Joseph…you know…la papa de Jesús?”). My host mom told me about it a couple of times, and asked if I wanted to go, and I always said yes, but she sort of kept himming and hawing around. Finally, along came a Sunday evening around 9 o’clock, when I went with my down to the neighbors (who are all family in some way), and the women chatted for about a half hour before deciding that yes, we should indeed all trek to the party.

Now…Salvadorans who don’t live in a big city (ie: San Salvador) don’t really leave the house after about 6 o’clock, when it gets dark. I pretty much have to stay home after then, unless I’m going next door to talk to Jeremy (neighboring volunteer) or something. It’s not considered safe, and people just don’t do it.

So you might be able to imagine my surprise as I find myself walking down a street with about 12 other people (mostly women). We stop at a corner to see if we can get a car to pick us up, but after several unsuccessful attempts, someone announces that we will get to Vera Paz by walking…so we walk for a while. No one had a flashlight…so we are sort of just walking along on the road under the brightest stars I’ve ever seen, and bustling over to the side every once in a while as a car passes. Finally, we get a large truck to stop, and we all pile in the back.

As if that wasn’t adventure enough…We get to Vera Paz, and all the people that I assumed should be sleeping were partying it up, full-out carnival style. The party consisted of: a bunch of venders selling sweets and toys, and 2 carnival rides: a small squeaky train ride for toddlers….which was plugged in to an electrical outlet in the center of the tiny train track. A boy of about 10 was running it, making sure the cord didn’t get tangled as the train circled around. He also had to occasionally give the train a pull, as it would get stuck on the corners.

The other ride was “El Gusano”- The Worm. It was a roller coaster…I suppose. The ladies I was with (my host mom, her sister in law, some kids, some other ladies) stood around for about ten minutes discussing whether or not we should all ride this contraption. I said I didn’t want to….which of course meant that I ended up doing it anyway. Now, I’m sot of leery of carnival rides stateside….so you can imagine how I felt about this big rickety set-up…but I got on anyway.

Before the ride, I realized that Latin parties are like middle school dances. The girls stand around in clusters giggling and reapplying their lip gloss while the boys line the fences trying to look cool and checking out any female form in their vicinity. So, already feeling that I stood out as not only one of the tallest people there, but certainly as the only gringo there, I wasn’t so keen about getting on the ride, which was in the center of all this hubbub. But I did. It went around the track two times, none of us fell off, and it was the conversation piece of the next hour.

After sitting around some more (and me wondering exactly what this big “celebration” was all about), we went down the road to a little outdoor eatery where my host mom’s sister works. Being that I probably still had amoebas, I wasn’t too excited about eating anything. They kept offering me licuados (blended fruit and milk drinks), but I wasn’t in the mood, so I was like, no, no, I’m fine, thanks…but six woman are tough to combat. They looked at me, looked at each other, and then ordered me a beer. Being that it’s really not accepted for women to drink in public here, I’m not sure what that was all about…but another woman had one with me, so I figured I was safe.

After beer and tamales (so good), we wandered down the street to see a LOT of fireworks shot off (and I’m thinking, these people definitely do not have pyrotechnical licenses!) After about a half hour of fireworks, the grand finale came: A huge monument of sorts of San José was more or less set on fire. Sets of lights and firecrackers shot off his arms, and out of his halo while the people ooed and awed. Ash filled the air, and sparks and ashes fell amongst the crowd. I have no idea why trees were not set ablaze during some part of this. (there was also a goofy sideshow of a comedian who had a lot of pretty funny sexual/gender-related jokes. At one point he asked all the men in the audience who liked women to raise their hands….and only one man did…so he says, “really? What would we do if there were no women here?” and the guy behind me was like “we’d all go to Guatemala!!”)

After some more time, around 1am, we finally head back to the house…in the back of a packed truck (larger than a pickup, used for transporting sugar cane or people), that smelled of boys who’d been drinking beer and smoking cigarettes (sooo taboo!), again under the brightest, most beautiful sky I’ve ever seen.

And so I had my first little party adventure. Well done.
Sorry this is rambly- It’s 11:15 pm. I watched Devil’s Rejects (or Hell’s Rejects?) tonight with Jeremy, the neighbor and my host mom…it’s sort of a horror/thriller. The pirated movie business is thriving here. You can usually get like 3 movies (of decent quality) on a dvd for $1.25…so when we get bored, that’s where we turn! Then, after everyone went home, my host mom told me she needed to go work in the molienda with the cane sugar, wrapping sweets, and that the kids decided to camp out over there, and she’d probably work all night…and was it ok if I stayed home alone? It took me a good five minutes to convince her that I’m not scared of being here alone. She almost didn’t go. But really…I’m inside a locked gate and a locked door. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.

Enough rambling for now. I keep promising these are going to get more interesting or organized, but it doesn’t seem to be happening. Perhaps in the future.

update 3?

Greetings to those stateside and beyond (read: Leigh)!

All’s pretty well here. I spent a few days up north in Chalatenango (check out a map of el sal), pretty much in the ideal place I’d want to live (although I’m sure I’ll have it much more rough) in the beautiful mountains last week. I missed a day of this (called Field-Based Training) due to being pretty sick from some amoebas….and I’m still on medication to eradicate them, but I think I’m doing pretty fine now. That is, if you don’t see my legs….seriously I’ve never had so many bug bites in my life, and since I’m so pale, and tend to react strongly to them, I look like I have chicken pox or something (I’m pretty sure I’ll eventually get Dengue, but hopefully not for a while at least). And I wear a lot of DEET-laden products. I also have a nice purple welt from a Frisbee smacking my shin the other day. Sigh…so prone to small silly accidents. Like the bee that got stuck in my shoe and stung my ankle yesterday. What a punk. But I’m proud to say I’m getting tougher. You get used to being dirty, and really learn to appreciate those bucket baths (the coldness is more refreshing now than shocking)..Look at me go, all adjusting like a pro.

Today in particular (march22) was fantastic. We went to a nearby little town…which was pretty depressing, actually. I’d probably cry if I had to live there. It’s crazy to me how much diversity there is in this little country, but this place was totally flat and dry, with NO shade anywhere. Just a bunch of little tiny houses made out of bamboo and sheets of metal tacked around them. Not even that many latrines there. So yeah, pretty rural, pretty poor. 12 of us went and worked with a local NGO to help build “improved stoves.” The number one problem here is respiratory illnesses (in terms of frequency), and this is partly due to the fact that a lot of people have one-room homes with crappy fire-burning stoves inside…basically filling the house with smoke- so they’re breathing that all the time. It’s hard to explain for some reason that that black stuff on the walls is the same black stuff in your lungs…

So anyway, we made these wooden molds, then constructed stoves out of a mix of dirt, clay, cement, dry grass, and water. SO fun….plus I finally got to (wait, mom, don’t read this) use a machete for the first time! Haha. Yeah…I am definitely buying a machete as soon as I get to my site. Everyone has them here. Plus they have sweet leather holders with like, leather tassels and stuff…seriously. It’s cool. Anyway, I just had to cut up this dry grass so it would mix in easier, and I basically got to use a machete and a piece of firewood to dice it up. Fun times (and yes, I still have all my fingers).

So we made four stoves in all, with chimneys and stuff, so they should use less wood and be healthier in general. That kind of work is really nice once in a while….all day in the sun, so you feel exhausted, but at least you have something to show for it, you know? Good times in “The Savior…”

Other than that….a bunch of (well most…like 95%) of the PCT’s are headed to the beach this weekend to relax (read: drink/tan), but I decided to stay home since I feel like I haven’t seen my family much lately. Luck has it: they want to take me to some hot springs! So that’s pretty sweet. Then, Sunday is my host-aunt’s 27th birthday, so we have that to celebrate, too (I think we are getting pizza and ice cream, which is a pretty awesome treat here)

In other news: (sorry this is scatter-brained, I’m really tired), we only have like 3.5 weeks of training left! This is pretty awesome and exciting…and we find out our sites in like two weeks. We’re all sort of chomping at the bit about that….but in due time, us young grasshoppers will move out of the training center and all alone out into the wilderness of The Savior. That will probably be sort of freaky…and then I’ll have to get to know a new host family for 2 or 3 months before being able to move into my own place (it’s pretty much a requirement, and a really good way to get to know your new community) and look for that sense of home that I’ve been sadly lacking since I left Iowa City.

A final side note: my handkerchief collection is expanding nicely. Those things are seriously invaluable (good for: drying your hands when you can’t find a towel, cleaning fruit, wiping off sweat/dirt from your face, color coordinating with outfits…). I now own black, green, blue, brown, and one that is green on one side and pink on the other (which people always compliment me on, so thanks for satisfying my whim and buying it for me, mom!).

Bueno. That’s all for now. I’ll update you the next time something fun happens. (oh, it rained for real for about 20 minutes last night, really hard….we had to run and get all the drying laundry, but after that it was soo pretty and cool sounding on the roof.) Take care, everyone. Much love.

Hospital Divino Niño

pues... quick story, because the A-C in this ciber cafe ain´t workin.

i´ve had a rash for a few days, right? like inside my elbows, then on the back of my neck, then behind my knees..and itchy as hell, so i finally call our medical doctor. she sends me to the hospital here, and i´m weighed. the lady says ¨ciento uno, pesa poco!¨ (101, you don´t weigh much), and i´m like. um....no....that says 121. she didn´t believe me though, and made me get back on the scale. so we got that fixed...did the blood pressure thing, then i sat in the waiting room some more. finally i get called back, and speak with a guy in a scrubs top and jeans, with no nametag. no clue...i guess he was a doctor? he wrote me a prescription for anti histamines and told me i probably ate something i was allergic to (no clue what) and that us PC volunteers are in there all the time with rashes like this because we run around in the forest not knowing what we´re touching. or something. he then tells me i need ¨un inyeccion de fenalen¨...and i´m like oh no...and all i can think of is matt´s story from argentina where he had to get an inyeccion por la veina (in the vein) when he had an allergic outbreak...so i´m like ... um....ok...

and i get sent back to the waiting room.

i´m pretty confused now...and watching sick people come in and out. one lady with a really swollen, infected eye, some other people getting some urine tests done...and finally a nurse (i´m assuming) calls me back to a tiny little apricot colored room with a bed and a desk. the only light is from a skylight. she tells me -acuestese- ...(lay down), but i don´t really listen, and sit on the bed. -no, boca abajo- (face down)...so now i´m like OH....uh....boca abajo? no se puede ponerla por el brazo?- (face down? you can´t put it in the arm?)...but no, she tells me in the arm would hurt too much. so yea. in the bum...some anti histamine...

all in all, pretty comical.
and life goes on.
we have field based training next week, so we´ll be in a volunteers site for four or five days. i got my first request though, and i´m going with a great group of other trainees, so i´m really excited.

more soon.
mel

see 3 titles below

And this blog shall be titled:
La Joya: La Vida Sin Luz
-or-
How in Shape I’m Not.
-or-
“It tastes kinda funny, but I don’t think it’ll kill me”

(we had “immersion days last week, which means we spent a few days in the sites of current volunteers. We were all spread out, staying with different families across the country. When someone in the office asked where I was going and I told her she said oh….the people there are really nice…and it’s pretty rural….)

Let me take you on a little adventure to a hidden gem in the eastern department of Morazán: Close to the pueblo, Gotera, high up and hidden in the mountains; La Joya. Bring your handkerchief, some tough sandals (I recommend Keen Newport H2’s) and your Nalgene water bottle (these products, along with my quick-dry pants, are practically indispensable in my life now), and basically as little else as possible, because you won’t want to carry it.

The bus you board in the small pueblo of Gotera (which has internet access and small stores) has to be pushed in reverse to get it started, as the battery is not currently functional. It’s an old school bus, probably from the US, but repainted and booming some of the latest latin pop hits. After a half hour, you find yourself clutching your handkerchief to your mouth and squinting to see through the billowing dust that fills the bus as it slowly bumps along a rocky road high up into the mountains. The peaks you see in the distance are in Honduras. After about an hour of driving on roads so steep and bumpy, you didn’t even know regular school buses (driven by a 17 year old, no less) could manage, the bus stops, and you realize the road goes no further. So you get off, and begin to walk.

The point of these visits, largely, is to give you a picture of what volunteer life is really like, as well as to motivate you to study more Spanish. In the end, I was just motivated to work out more, as I am sadly quite out of shape (though I doubt I have ever been “in” shape). The site of this volunteer was incredibly rural. And by rural I mean a few keys things: the houses are 30-45 minutes hiking to the nearest bus, because the road doesn’t reach the area. They are building a road currently, out of hand-carried river rocks and dirt. Walking means trudging over rocks up and down mountains in a few inches of loose dust (it’s the dry season) There is no electricity. Most of the houses are made out of mud blocks, and have dirt floors (which people like to spit on). The family I stayed with consisted of a mom, dad, 6 kids, and a lot of chickens, ducks, dogs, and a very large pig. Despite all the lacks of modern conveniences (they still have radios and cell phones!), the place was beautiful, the people incredibly friendly, and the general atmosphere bien tranquilo (really calm).

These are some really “real” people. Really rural – totally what you might think of as “Peace Corps.” But if I were placed in that site, what would I do? Opinions don’t change easily. Convincing people to brush their teeth or stop giving their children bottles with sugar-laden milk isn’t so easy. So I’m not sure. The father of the family I stayed with worked stateside for 5 years before marrying his wife. He said although work was easy to find in the states, he preferred the tranquil campo life, where you don’t have to pay rent (he owns his land), electricity, or water bills. Oh yeah, we didn’t have running water either, but little pipes from nearby rivers provided enough to bathe/wash in. (An afternoon bucket bath in 90 degree heat is pretty refreshing!)

This man was pretty educated and easy to talk to. He could climb a tall mango tree (with few branches) in his bare feet to toss down mangos tiernos (unripe, but tasty, and certain types of mangoes are better before they ripen, so we’ve learned) to his children. I sat below and peeled the fruit for them as they stared in admiration at their father. He is the secretary of the ADESCO (like the city council), and actually helped out around the house, cooking once in a while or tending to the infant. So pretty progressive in my opinion. I also saw what I considered to be the most romantic thing I’ve seen since I’ve been here, and I’m not even sure why it struck me as so: the man and his wife, both sitting in a hammock (their only furniture was 3 hammocks, pretty sweet in my opinion), along with their infant, rocking back and forth and talking to each other and their child. Don’t get me wrong; it didn’t make me want kids or anything…just sort of a sweet sight, in the dimming evening light that filled their house before the gas lamp was lit.

Speaking of the infant, I somehow ended up carrying her half of the 10 minute hike to the church for some Friday afternoon service (Catholic)…she was a pretty healthy (chubby) baby, and I was holding her while walking down a steep path covered in 2 inches of dust…And I haven’t held a child in so long, it was sort of awkward (like, “oh cute…now what do I do with it?”)..I kept thinking…damn I could trip and drop this thing…who in their right mind gives me a child to carry??? I’m happy to report she is alive and well.

While I was outside playing with the children, I happened to see a chicken perched high up in a tree. Curious, I asked why. They laughed at me. Then I realized there were actually about 8 chickens (at least that I could count) perched high above. I was baffled. Maybe you guys have seen this before…but chickens apparently sleep in trees. It’s crazy. As we were standing there looking at them, a gavilan (some sort of large bird similar to a vulture) came and stole one away….pretty crazy. It was definitely the event of the day, and was much discussed.

My religion was also discussed. I was point-blank asked if I was Catholic, if I was baptized, and if my mother attends church. I was like uh….I belief religion is a personal matter. I made the mistake of being too honest though, I think, when I was asked what type of church I plan to be married in. My “on the beach!” answer with a smile wasn’t well received, as my host dad said something like “ah….civil union eh…” Oops? My cultural mistakes sort of amuse me…although I’m trying to be a little more suave these days.

Speaking of suave….you sort of have to accept drinks when people offer them to you, even if you know the water wasn’t boiled, or the cup may not be completely clean. After this past trip though, I feel a bit stronger, and less afraid of the food and water. I’m pretty sure I drank some non-purified, non-treated, non-boiled water last week. My host mom my water was “supposed” to be boiled since my stomach is still “weak” and “not accustomed” to the local parasites….but soon after boiling some water she handed me a “fresco,” a sort of sweet juice drink, with cold water and floating lemon chunks. Basically sweet watery lemonade….but it didn’t make me sick, so I was pretty happy with myself. I haven’t been sick yet, although the winds from the North are giving me a cold with all the dust they are blowing in.

I can’t think of much else exciting that happened. (Except for the big event: the volunteer’s neighbors got out the generator and we watched a biblical story on VHS on a tiny tv with about 25 people gathered around) All in all, it was just a really great time being outside of the city. I’ve never seen a sky so bright….the moon was full, and you could go outside after dark and still see everything. It’s the most remote place I’ve ever been (followed by being lost in one of Argentina’s largest national parks, right Matt?), but for the first time since I’ve been here, it hit me that I’m happy to be here. Time is starting to pass a bit faster, and the Spanish is starting to flow just a bit easier. So things are good.

(side note: if anything crazy comes up in the news, shoot me an email and let me know, because I don’t read papers very often, and am only informed of local news like all our problems with Guatemala…)

(as a final note...all my fellow trainees are slowly falling sick! one found out she has giardia today...many have amoebas or bacterial infections. drinking the water to "get accostomed to it" isn't a great idea..since you don't so much get accostomed to things like giardia. that might be spelled wrong.)

more soon...suggestions on writing styles are welcomed as well.