Monday, December 16, 2013

The best day EVER

Ladies and gentleman, today Tuesday, December 16, 2013 is the best day of my life. Why has it been the best day of my life (and it’s only 2:30pm)? Here’s why:

I woke up at the ripe hour of 8am without the typical 
bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp bomp” 
of Christian rancherra music. Where was everybody? Eh, no matter. I made a cup of coffee and got to read a few chapters of Clash of Kings in peace.

Then I got a call from the post office telling me that it’s here. MY PACKAGE IS HERE!!!!! I got my butt outta bed, showered and ran for the bus. 

I got to hang out with my neighbor on the way. She said she really missed me. Awww, that’s sweet but MY PACKAGE IS HERE!!!!!

I got the added bonus at the post office of getting THREE hilarious cards from my grandma. She’s so funny and she doesn’t even know it! I love cards from my grandma, they always make me feel special. I miss her so much! Did I mention that MY PACKAGE IS HERE!!!!!?

Miss you grandma!
Since I was in town, I stopped to buy some veggies. A guy in the store said, “Hey, are you American?” Claro que si, seƱor! He must have had a good experience living in the US because he gave me a lift home. ‘Murica! Damn, I had missed riding in the back of pick-up trucks. I waved hello to Manuel the Health Promoter going on his daily route and got dropped at Otinia’s chalet so I could show everyone waiting for the bus how happy this crazy PCV can be. I carried my package on my head like a true Salvadoran woman and gave the men cutting manguey a good laugh. I didn’t care though because MY PACKAGE IS HERE!!!!!

It's really here!

I got home and ripped open the greatest package of my life. Some of the amazing things my family sent me: Chili Cheese Fritos, candy, pretzels, my Teva sandals and tennis shoes that fit perfectly, a singing Spanish Christmas card purposely left unsigned so I can give it to someone in my community (smart), new nalgene water bottle, my stocking, one of my favorite Christmas ornaments, FOAMEE, a shirt, gingerbread cookies, Cheez-its, and little notes on everything. Thanks to my sister Tate for drawing crosses on the box. Honestly that’s probably why I got it so fast!

So many good things

I shared some of the chips with my host family. They had never tasted Cheetos or Sour Cream & Onion Lays before. I also gifted Aysel with Dora stickers. She came into my room later with half the sticker book all over her arms and dress. She was so happy!

So adorable! 

I was having SUCH a good day that I felt justified in opening another “Open when…” card from my cousin/bestie. She told me to share the good days with everyone back home, so I got a kick of motivation to start writing in my blog again. This is why I love her.

Miss you Christi!

I love and miss my family so damn much. I’m so lucky to have them! They keep me going J

Futbol Diaries

On Saturday, December 7 we had the annual Peace Corps/JICA/JOICA futbol tournament. I had no idea there were so many Japanese and Korean volunteers in El Salvador! Our common language was Spanish, which seemed fitting for a game of futbol. My team ALMOST won, but I missed the penalty kick. Hey, I never said I was good! I had so much fun, and I can’t wait to play again next year! 

Hey girl.
Zumba break!

My team!

Team Pupusas! 

I’m normal, I swear!

Peace Corps has a way of really, REALLY messing with you. I’ve personally experienced so many highs and lows, often immediately back to back and without compromise, that my emotional equilibrium is the most savage teeter-totter in the world. Ya know, the one they had to remove from the public park because too many kids broke their necks. That’s me.

But guess what? It’s normal. I’m normal.  It’s gonna be ok.

You could see the collective flicker of light bulbs above every PCV’s head when Mary the Psych Lady revisited the “Cycle of Vulnerability” during PST2. We’d seen this chart before, but that was before the lowest of the lows set in- oddly enough around the 3-6 month mark.



I mean, it makes sense. Everything here makes sense. And it’s all true, I can attest. So I’m sharing this with you all so you get a better sense of what it’s like to be a PCV and why I write about wormholes. And so you send me Chili Cheese Fritos around the 12-14 month mark in July.  

The Best Thanksgiving EVER

I was really nervous to spend my first major holiday away from home. Luckily, like with my birthday, Thanksgiving El Salvador was a huge hit. When I heard we’d been invited to spend the holiday with a family from the US Embassy, I had envisioned an old wrinkly man. Some PCV’s did get matched with old people, and they had a very lovely time. Me? I’m happy me, Maria and Greg, another PCV from the previous group, got matched with an awesome, young, single guy from the US Embassy.

Entonces, we had an amazing time. Chris from the Embassy lives in the penthouse of a beautiful apartment building overlooking San Salvador. We enjoyed chilled wine and shopping sprees. We did flood his apartment, but it only took a few hours to clean up. We cooked all day. Nay-freakin-ib came to Thanksgiving dinner. Marine House. Tunco.


I won’t go into much detail, but I will say this- Thanksgiving 2013 will never be beat. 

My new bestie lookin cute

Chris, one of the coolest guys I've ever met

Greg, carving the turkey like a boss

I sorta helped cook this meal. I was more interested in the wine. Delish!

Beautiful balcony. Sargent Hotness. Friendship. 

Nayib Bukele and the beautiful Gaby came for dinner. He's kinda a big deal. 

Damn, I miss the beach. 

Los Juegos del Hambre

I was so surprised to find ridiculous amounts of love waiting for me back in San Antonio. My host family really missed me for the 7 weeks I had been in site. They even made me a sign!
That's right, I'm a VOLUNTARIA now!
And of course we have another puppy. Where do they get these flea ridden creatures!? Panda’s cute though.

So tiny! 

I was happy to see Christmas paraphernalia as well. Most of my community in Morazan is Evangelica and do not celebrate Christmas… which is the day their main man Jesus was born, but I digress. Christmas is too much fun, so they put the kibosh on it. Ain’t no thang to my Catholic host family in SanAn, which was a comforting relief.
Oooooo, festive. 

The first week of PST2 was for Spanish classes. I’m amazed at how much I’ve improved. I came here with basically no Spanish, but now I can gossip and barter with the rest of them! I swore on the beaches of El Salvador with a wishing rock (it’s a COED 2013 thing) that I’d leave this country fluent in Spanish, and I’m getting closer to that goal with every day here.

I was really caught off guard by how different things are closer to the capital. (Insert Hunger Games reference here). I guess I just settled into campo life and didn’t look back. I forgot that there are other parts of the country where people aren’t super religious or relying on subsistence farming. It was interesting, but exhausting. Don’t get me wrong- In a recent “low” swing I talked about how lonely/frustrating it felt to change my life so I could integrate with my campo community. And now? The capital’s nice, but it’s not my home.

In fact, I more than identify with campo life- I defend it. A few days before I left for PST2 my family and I went to a graduation party for one of my host cousins. Everyone was SO excited I was coming because of Jose. (I honestly forgot his name, but he has a 75% chance of being a Jose). Jose is young, probably 19 or 20, and American. He was born in New York and has lived there with his mom ever since. He came to El Salvador for the first time to visit his dad who was deported when he was a kid.

I could immediately tell this guy was not Salvadoran. Sure, he might have Salvadoran blood but he is not about this life. The kid looked like he raided a Lids store, for God’s sake. He also didn't speak any Spanish. We sat together at the mesa for chicken leg sandwiches (a delicacy) and talked about campo life. I told him that I’m gonna live here for 2 years. No, I don’t mind latrines. Cold showers suck, but its 90 degrees every day. I noticed that he wasn’t eating his chicken leg sandwich- a huge mistake. You always eat what they give you, with a smile.

Jose said I was crazy for willingly living here. He hates El Salvador. He never wants to visit again. He doesn’t care if that means he’ll never see his dad again, because he can’t live without wifi and ESPN. The girls aren’t cute here. Everyone’s so religious. Why are they so poor?

My host sister told my host mom that he doesn't understand any Spanish, don’t even bother talking to him. I felt pretty cool because I’M usually the one Salvadorans say that about! Jose’s unfinished sandwich was just as conspicuous as his English- he ain’t about this life, but I am.

I was thinking about Jose The Jerk a few days later when I was back in San Antonio. I really had to pee in the middle of the night, so I strapped on my headlamp and headed for the latrine. When I got there I knew to look down and check for cockroaches, since they often party there at night. Sho’ nuff, two ugly cockroaches danced around the rim. And you know what? I wasn’t even mad! 5 months ago that would've freaked me out, but now it’s just part of my world to check the latrine. I just know to. And in that moment, I felt immensely proud.

Ain't even mad, brah.

I’m getting better at this. And the better I get at fitting in, the more I appreciate El Salvador and its people. Here’s to the next two years!



Rapid fire succession

Hello devoted followers! I’m back in site after a very crazy, fulfilling, inspiring, exhausting Pre-Service Training-2. I’m sorry I didn’t keep up with my blog during this time, but you might remember where I lived in San Antonio and forgive me. I had a bigger job of fending off las cucarachas than writing blog posts.


Where do I even start?! So much has happened, and so much has changed. Bear with me during the rapid fire succession of posts. I swear it’ll be worth your time.