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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!