Tranquilo Chica

What a difference a few hours makes. My last post was written just before dinner, and yes, I was absorbing the culture shock. Sorry, not sorry. Get used to it. I need somewhere to vent and this blog will most likely be that. But not every post has to be sad, so here's a good story- 

Tonight my whole family was together for dinner, which only happens on the weekends because my host dad works nights at a bank. We ate beans and rice and tortillas (duh) and a special potato salad type thing made of the national flower. It was good! I don't need to eat it everyday, but I'm loving the new flavors. I was feeling a little down so dinner was quiet. After a while my host sister started asking me questions and my host father helped with los verbos. A lot of words are similar but the verbs are killing me. Oi, and I only speak in the present unless I've somehow internalized the conjugation. Anyways- we're laughing because I called the cat piccachu and my host brother brought out all these Pokemon pogs. Remember pogs? Yeah, me either. They are sooooo happy for me to go to church with them tomorrow. Now, I'm familiar with catholic masses- if this goes beyond 2 hours I'm gonna be in trouble. I told them I used to sing in the church choir when I was young and now they want me to sing tomorrow. I haven't sang in a church in years, but hey, esta la vida del campo. My family is awesome, they don't care that I speak at the level of a 3 year old. 

My host dad missed my presentation of photos (which I noticed too late are incredibly offensive for El Salvador. Women do not drink beer, even delicious craft beer, and they do not wear short skirts. All of my pictures were one of the two or both.) He asked me some questions about my family, which I'm glad I knew how to answer. But then he asked me something new, and after some creative go around, I realized he was asking if my family needed me in the United States. If we were close. If we spend a lot of time together. 

That's about when I started crying on my beans and rice. Most of you probably know my family's position on Peace Corps. It's not always the brightest outlook. Yes, it's something I struggle with because 1) if someone's constantly telling you to come home and you just pooped your pants, you're gonna want to quit and 2) I always worry about my family back in the states. 

I pulled myself together long enough to brokenly say that yes, my family needs me in their lives but PC is an important goal for me. Because they love me, they can let me come here. Yes, we are close. And yes, we spend a lot more time together than some other families in the states. 

I think they were happy with my answers. I'm happy too, because they're very true. 

I really have to wrap up. I have a paper to write for my summer class. I'm literally writing in the dark under my mosquito net. And I thought dorm rooms were rough. 

Love and kisses, 

Ale 

Ps- Ahhh crazy news! Alex is a man's name in Latin America so I had to change my name. I chose Ale because I hate it when people call me Alexandra and Alejandra is the same. Ale has an accent over the A, but I have no idea how to do that on the iPad. 

Pss- I can tell that I'm learning Spanish because my last post had a lot of if-thens. Like, before I go to sleep tonight, I need to tuck in my mosquito net. It's just a weird grammar thing. Hey Tate!