Giving of the cheap plastic toys: Part II

This year was decidedly more fancy than last year. Some girls got Frozen princess dolls and there were minutos (shaved ice and red syrup), soda, AND cookies. The mayor also made sure to give out aprons to the moms in the crowd with his political party and name stamped on the front. Oh, and he gave a stump speech letting us know that he grew up dirt poor, too. (Just like all of you!). Oi, when are these elections over?

I wouldn't be so bitter if he didn't scoop me and a crippled boy for a photo op. I actually know this child well and I wonder if he ever gets tired of politicians asking to take a picture with him.

My neighbor who loves screaming my name when I walk by. Very docile in this pic.

The boy's line.

Much campaigning. But this is actually much more organized than last year. 

My bichos. Aysel didn't like the doll they gave her so she got a car too! Don't let the bow fool you- she's a total tomboy. 

I've also realized juuuuust how long I've been here. For example, I know women who have conceived, carried, and gave birth. Their babies are adorable. And it felt good to talk with all the moms and kids I knew in the crowd. Last year I kind of awkwardly gave out the toys. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped here for-ev-er, but then I realize I won't even be here for the annual giving of the crappy plastic toys next year. It's the beginning of the end :(

The end of a long year

I don't think I have ever been more anxious for anything in my life than to go home IN 8 DAYS. It's all I think about and all I really have to talk about. It's what keeps me calm and collected when the boys are screaming for no other reason than to make more noise and my host mom tells me off for not washing my curtain for a whole year (gasp!). Which means it's absolutely ridiculous that I'm a little sad I won't get to immediately cross off the final month of 2014 on my self-motivation poster.

I thought the stickers were fitting. I'm big on self-motivation if you can't tell. 

It's been a long year, my innumerable band of devoted followers. I know I may have a tendency to, well, complain a bit here on my blog. I'm sure if you search my blog for booming religious ranchera music (that's actually playing as I type this), inhumane heat, and dastardly failed projects... you would get many a hits. There are lots of times I come here to write something out just so I can stop obsessing over it. I do try to portray both sides of the story, but at the end of the day this is my place to share my particular experience. I even have a disclosure statement that says so! Crossing off the months has always put to rest the troubles of the previous month and given me a fresh start for the next. PC is a marathon, not a sprint. There is way too much time to focus on the bad stuff if you don't mentally exfoliate every month. Shoot, mentally exfoliate every day! Now that I'm at the end of 2014, I can look back and remember the good times a lot quicker than the bad.

And there have been many good times, too. There's a lot of good stuff that doesn't make the blog. Like, yesterday Aysel was walking around with some leaves in a giant basket on her head screaming "Fresco! Fresco for sale!" like a street vendor. She's so darn cute and I love her imagination. And there's also the times when these two girls next door call me "Ale Bonita" when I walk by. They're right- I am beautiful. And I always get a kick out of embarrassing Ana at the pupusaria. That poor angsty girl.

I've been thinking about a New Years resolution for 2015 but I haven't thought of anything that sticks. I remember what I wrote on New Years day 2014 and little did I know but that resolution was the most important thing I could have done. Sticking through the hard times, the times that sometimes overshadow the good that happens, has resulted in such a beautiful experience.

So, I won't cross off the last month of 2014 on the 31st. I'll be poppin' champagne on a boat!!! No, just kidding. My bed time is 9pm now, I don't even know if I'll make it to midnight. I will, however, do some mental exfoliation when I'm at home. After all, 2015 is sure to be a big year, too.

My girl

Everybody who's talked to me in the last year and a half knows that I'm head over heels for my girl Aysel. We've been spending a lot of quality time together around the house. Since she knows how to handle my iPad better than most adults, I let her go wild with the apps and camera. (Too bad I haven't had enough time or strong enough internet to update my apps so they tend to spontaneously shut down.) Sometimes I snap some adorable pics, too.

We like to draw together. 

On paper as big as her.

Who needs snow when you've got corn husks!?

Workin hard or hardly workin, Aysel?

Yesterday I went to the Ciudad Mujer inauguration and it was... typical. Very hot, lots of prom dresses, some woman shoved me into the curb and I got sick from the comedor food. Although the organization is technically separate from a political party the guest speakers definitely trumped up the party who largely supports them, which left me feeling awkward per usual. I genuinely do appreciate what the organization stands for and how they provide cancer screenings and reproductive health information to rural women, but of course there's got to be some political component and that may complicate things for an apolitical volunteer like me. For example, even though my three host sisters gladly participated in the sewing workshop in October they refused to come to the inauguration because they don't support the political party that supports Ciudad Mujer. I came home to a hail storm of who went from the community and who they told people to vote for and did I give a speech? (They clearly misunderstood the amount of people at the inauguration. For once I was just a nobody getting pushed around and having my seat stolen just like the rest of 'em.)

It's all very complicated and I'll be happy when the mid-term elections are finally over in March.

And for some reason the women of my casario were directed to sit in the ONE ROW that was in the gap between canopy tents where the sun was beating down. I sat for a whole 10 minutes then was overcome with a "Oh hell no" attitude and moved to a row more in the shade. I tried to convince the women I was with to move with me to the dark side, but it's typical here to only accept what is given to you so they stayed put and tried shielding themselves from the sun for the next 3 hours.

Too many people. This isn't even half. 

It was absolutely ridiculous trying to find our bus afterwards, just like the other 8,000 women who attended. That's when I was shoved out of some woman's way into oncoming traffic and hit the curb. I shouted a variety of expletives in English, my native tongue that's adapt to swearing, and I think that's about when my women's group gave up hope of leaving and congregated on the road partition. When we did finally meet up with our bus an hour later we were exhausted, sun burnt, and defeated.

I took some much needed alone time when I got home to think. When I look at Aysel I sometimes feel like I want to adopt her and take her to the US where I could give her a good education and recreation and libraries and all the amazing opportunities I had as a kid. But that's crazy. She has a loving family who would never let her go and I don't truly want a 3 year old kid. However, I think Aysel is only ever going to have those things if a million little changes happen across the country at the personal, community, and institutional levels. I have no idea if that'll happen in her lifetime.

I think the goals that Ciudad Mujer have are important and start conversations with women who don't tend to think critically about their lives' obstacles and opportunities. They have their work cut out for them. I hope that someday this country will be a safer and brighter place for all little girls, but especially my girl Aysel.

Keeping busy (or not)

I'm totally checked out right now. I would try to blog more about my daily life, but my daily life is pretty boring. I'm just trying to keep myself occupied until I go on vacation. Literally, what do I have to tell my vast population of devoted followers?

I've been super in to making homemade gourmet popcorn. Well, it's not really gourmet. I tried making a lemon zest popcorn but it was so bitter, even he dogs wouldn't eat it. I just like popping the corn!

I decorated my mosquito net with tinsel and ornaments. My host family, like many Evangelicals here, doesn't celebrate Christmas. No tree, no music, no presents. And that's completely OK. Sometimes I think how interesting it would have been to serve in a Muslim country or a country with a strong indigenous population. I've learned a lot about El Salvador, and now I can appreciate the differences a little more. Even though it was on the depressing side, I'm really happy I experienced Christmas here last year. However.... I have a X-mas playlist on Spotify that I refuse to turn down and I will put tinsel on my mosquito net BECAUSE IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR, DAMMIT!

I'll be hoooome for Christmaaaas

Aysel helped with the ornaments. So cute!

I spend a lot of time reading and listening to podcasts in the hammock on our porch. I helped move around the fijoles that we dried out for storage through the terrible, obnoxious, million degree summer coming up. Better believe I'm personally preparing myself for summer. I have a shopping list of "loose fitting comfortable" clothes that I can sweat profusely in. I hope Chicago in winter will understand my needs.

This is my view. Canello sometimes chills by the pila.

I attended a graduation for a bunch of workshops that happened in the pueblo. I feel like my pueblo's got a lot going on, but it never makes it's way out to the rural areas where my community is. I might try spending more time there next year. I have some goals for my last 9 months, and I'm sure I'll need some help from the pueblo people. Leo, my art class guy, invited me to the graduation.

There was a painting, anil, and cosmetology workshop. 

Anil is natural tie-dye. I made a shirt like this when I was in training. 

Art class is going strong. Class size is manageable, but I'm struggling with the lazy male child syndrome. I can describe this pervasive phenomenon as a male child, probably around 10 years old, who when given a simple task, stares blankly or causes a ruckus until his mother/aunt/sister/grandmother swoops in and does the work for him. My mouth literally hit the floor when the three boys from my household skipped out on the task of drawing a straight line (with the help of a ruler) when their aunt did it for them during art class. I still get frustrated when I see this because I see a million things happening: the woman is losing her own time in art class, the boys aren't learning, once again a female is taking on simple work that a male refuses to do, the boys have no grit or resiliency and those are important buzzwords! I get frustrated for maybe 5 minutes then I have to move on. If there's one thing I've learned throughout my, ahem, 18 months here it's that you can't overthink or fixate when people do something "wrong."

This week I'm heading to an inauguration for Cuidad Mujer, the organization that provided the sewing workshop for women in my community. They're sending a private bus out to pick us up, so I think they really want to make this inauguration a big deal. I have no idea what the inauguration is for, but I'm going to hang out with my friends and hopefully snag some refrigerio. Wish I had a "I just came for the refrigerio" t-shirt. That needs to exist.

A Very Peace Corps Thanksgiving

Oh, how wonderful Thanksgiving is. Friends gathered around the dinner table, the delicious smells of turkey and apple pie wafting from the buffet table, and a vomit inducing bacterial infection from hell.

Needless to say, I had a very "Peace Corps" Thanksgiving this year.

I was so excited for my first ever Friendsgiving. Last year was a bit of a romp and was really more about escaping the campo than spending time with my new PC friends. This year we rented out a cabin in the middle of nowhere to ensure maximum togetherness. The place was actually very cute and came with a helpful family who lived on the property. I don't have any pictures of the place because I spent most of the time wrapped in blankets and fighting back the urge to spew.

The whole house ran on a generator and we had about 4 hours of electricity at a time which we spared out according to what needed to be cooked. Being the hyper organizational types, we created cooking groups weeks ahead of time to figure out all of the Thanksgiving meal preparation. I was truly amazed by the food these groups were able to pull off. Everything was from scratch and used fresh herbs from the on-site herb garden. I don't think I've ever had an entire Thanksgiving meal entirely from scratch. It was delicious! I forced myself to consume every bite and hold it in as long as I could.

Unfortunately, that didn't last too long. The Friday after Thanksgiving I asked the caretaker to drive me to the road so PC could take me to the hospital. Of course, the doctor listened to my symptoms and told me "Oh yeah, you got the chikungunya for sure." Then some labs tests came back and she changed her tune to, "Oh yeah, totally a UTI." I have no faith in this doctor.

Either way, I've been on antibiotics for a few days now and I'm feeling better. I wish I could've enjoyed Thanksgiving more. It's weird to think that next year we won't be in El Salvador together, but we'll be moving on to bigger and more sanitary places. I'm thankful for the new friends I've made over the past year and all the experiences I've had.

Graduation in Year 2

This past week was graduation for kindergarten and 9th grade, and it was different in every way from last year's celebrations.  I think the greatest change is that this year I understood and accepted so much more.

Last year, for example, I was so confused as to why there were Catholic mass and culto during the graduations. I kept asking if the schools were private, thus skirting the separation of church and state. Now I understand that religion simply reins supreme in El Salvador, and education, religion, and politics are blurred together.

This year I was a participant in the graduation and not just following around my host sisters. Actually, I handed over my camera to them so they could take pictures of me! I was in the mesa de honor, which means I was responsible for handing out the diplomas and shaking every. single. little. hand. (It's ok, I brought my berry sangria hand sanitizer because I knew this was coming.)

I went to culto (on time, but we started the typical 45 minutes late) and politely abstained from talking in tongues while the pastor yelled in the mic. Geez, I really can't give the evangelists a break. It actually wasn't that bad! I know what culto entails now and I wasn't fazed by it. A year of the Jesus radio preacher and next door culto speaker distortion has really shored up my strength for respecting religious differences (even if I totally disagree with the angry screaming and no pants rule). I was happy that my students could share their special day with their main man, Dios.

I walked at the head of the parade from the culto to the school with the director and the representative from the Ministry of Education. He was a nice man and we implored him to work a little harder for our school. Like, how about a few more teachers? Enough to teach all the grades? We'll see what next year will bring. (I have some videos of the parade and culto, but I'll have to upload them when I have better internet.)

I'm notoriously silly and cheerful in my community, almost to a fault. I was a big, happy presence in the midsts of an over serious kindergarten graduation. I don't think kids should anti-smile in photos. It's just wrong. I'd crack a few jokes and get a good smile every once in a while. I think they were also terrified to walk across the stage in front of all their families.

My 9th graders were great and I was so proud to hand over their diplomas. I even gave a speech before I presented my participation diplomas for basic English class. They, in turn, presented me with a diploma. I want to frame this and hang it right next to my master's degree. Sometimes I wonder which diploma was more difficult to earn...

After the ceremony the mesa de honor ate lunch. I really enjoyed lunch. I was starving! I was so happy that the band was rented all day and kept playing during our meal so I wouldn't have to waste precious breath on conversation as I shoveled rice, chicken, and tortillas in my mouth. If you think I might be exaggerating you'd be wrong. I ate like a champ.

I scarfed down my food because I hadn't been invited to anyone's graduation party, so might as well fill up! I know that parties are a huge expense for families, and so I wasn't expecting anyone to invite me unless they really wanted me there. I walked my overstuffed butt home and almost made it when Alfredo stopped me in the street and smoothly directed me inside the house. A sneaky invite! Him and Yohanna (I suspect they are dating) had a joint graduation party and yes, I ate another plate of chicken and rice (opted out of tortillas).

I had the misfortune of sitting next to a really rude man who had just been deported from the US. He'd been there since 1999. He'd tell me a stupid story about naming his daughter after a stripper and I'd respond in Spanish with something like "Interesante," even though nothing about this man was interesting. I got the feeling that he just wanted to be a jerk because no one could understand him. Oh, and he's the pastor's brother. I bet they don't see eye to eye. He's making the camino north again on December 8. This man is honestly one of the first people I've met here that I hope doesn't make it.

Rude guy aside, I had a really great day. I'm so proud of my students and I'm proud of myself. Last year I didn't know a single person at the graduation and this year I could look out on the crowd and wave to all my friends. I'd catch the eye of a kid in my art class and make a funny face, and I know it made their day. After the ceremony I talked with the moms of my students and told them to feel proud of their kids, and they did. I hugged one of my crying students and she couldn't even talk, she just hugged me back. I guess the best way to describe how I felt yesterday would be "overflowing with love." I literally could not contain my happiness and pride, and all that after only 13 months in-site.

I think this is what Peace Corps is really about- seeing the change inside yourself.

Mesa de honor. My smile really stands out. 

Valmoris is in my art class and usually very upbeat. I think he was nervous here!

Kenny escorted his half-sister Marilu. They're super cute, if a little too serious. 

Ana has the exact same teenage angst that my sister has, so I usually make faces like this at her when she's rolling her eyes.

Me giving a speech. It was actually a good one. 

My oldest student. I'm so proud of him! His daughters are super cute, too.

Poor Ana. She can't escape me!

Over joyed parents. 

The band. Keep playing!

Ive had my camera, so of course there was a photo shoot with Aysel. 

The 9th graders with the mesa de honor. 

Gissel was crying on me.

Alfredo won a medal for having good grades. 

My kids. I'll never forget this class! 

Art class update

Oh yeah! And I've been throwing myself into art class. I've made attendance charts and permission slips and planned out gender charlas. This past week was graduation in San Lucas (the "rich kid" school), so we had 11 students in the morning and 12 students in the afternoon. It was perfect. Me and Leo are tracking absences in the hopes that we can have one class of about 20 students. The kids are allowed to miss no more than two classes, so next week will tell how many people get cut.

It's a little ridiculous, I know. Shouldn't everyone get the chance to be involved? Well, yes. We tried that.  Now we're focusing on quality and not quantity. And I really want to get started on my gender charlas.

Fewer students means everyone gets to use an easel and they all get to fall down when bumped into. 

I like that we have young men involved in a not so macho group. I think it calms them down. 

One track mind

Annnnd I'm back. I hate to neglect my blog, but I've had a one track mind lately and I think it's paid off.

Folks, it's official- I have completed the graduation requirements for my Master's degree in Politics and Government from Illinois State University! I started a Master's International program with the Stevenson Center for Community and Economic Development the year before I left for PC and wrote my capstone while I was in El Salvador.

Me and my cousin walked in the same ceremony (she's in SpeechPath) back in May when I visited home. 

Unfortunately my capstone is a little disheartening. I conducted a case study that examines just how drastically my community's development organization or ADESCO (Asociaciones de Desarrollo Comunal) has fallen in the past two years that it's partnered with a certain microfinance institution. I had a really unique perspective in all of this because COED PCVs in El Salvador are placed specifically with ADESCOs to do trainings, help them manage projects, etc. I got placed with one that just happened to, well, suck.

The decline of my ADESCO affected me personally in a variety of ways. Remember when the ADESCO was fulfilling their expectations from the microfinance institution, but not really though, and left me to invite a group of women and conduct the meeting alone? Yeah, that's not cool. It's a constant process explaining my role to the community, but you'd think after SIX previous PCVs they'd get the gist. PCVs work with communities, but they don't work for them. This was just an example of how the "opportunities" the MFI brought in weren't actually what the ADESCO wanted, or they didn't want to work for them.

Whereas the actual case study might be repetitive (people are pretty fed up talking about it at this point), the research I do regarding ADESCOs is really informative. There are NO previous resources, not even governmental resources, that fully describe the history of ADESCOs, how to form one, what they do, what are the legal frameworks in place, and what laws protect the rights of ADESCOs. These are legal entities, with legal powers to solicit their own community development projects with the government, NGOs, international orgs, banks, etc. Imagine if Englewood could just be like, "Yeah, thanks for nothing City of Chicago. We're gonna work with the UN now." It's crazy! So interesting! And yet, no one really knows about it.

I also summarize a recent report that basically quantifies the lives of Salvadorans by their income, housing characteristics, education levels, etc. As it could be expected, rural areas of El Salvador are doing FAR WORSE than the urban areas, and living in the capital can nearly double your monthly earnings. A review of El Salvador wouldn't be complete without discussing gang violence and the influx of child immigrants, two things I've experienced very personally here. It felt a little silly trying to sum up all of these things and present the "situation" in full because, as it is anywhere in the world, the statistics don't always capture the real lives of its subjects.

So besides my capstone, what else have I been doing? Let's see.

Taking pictures of our cows.

Taking selfies with Aysel, who loves my iPad.

Laughing at the boys when they come back from the milpa. Darn tootin their gonna pick those beans!

Making riguas with my favorite family. 

Corn mash, salt, oil, sugar. Looks like pancakes. 

Served with a side of cuajada. So good!

And making tamales with maiz nuevo. I like to eat mine with honey and they think I'm crazy. 

Art and... a carnival?

This week we started the Art and Gender Empowerment classes. We were awarded over $2,300 to buy art supplies for a drawing and painting class. You might think that is a lot of money, but trust me, we can spend it. For the classes I had envisioned our core 20 students, participating in fun gender charlas and learning shading techniques from Leo. A very quiet and organized affair.

OH, HOW NOT SO.

About 50 children, jóvenes, and adults showed up to class with about 10 more "looker-ons" who stood in the door ways and watched. It was a bit of a carnival. Free art supplies! Everybody run to the casa comunal!

The first class was intended to be an introduction to a more formal experience. You can't miss more than 3 classes, you can't be late, and you can't use your cellphone. I mean, common. The materials are expensive and we have grant requirements to fulfill (i.e. GENDER CHARLAS). We need some order!

Leo, being the ever patient and inclusive being that he is, insisted on passing out full sized layer paper and shading pencils to everyone who showed up. They were supposed to replicate a drawing Leo had done so we can split them into levels. Although I was pleasantly surprised by some students, others were simply too young to participate. Things like sitting still, not tracing Leo's art, not braking the pencils... These are concepts that are far out of their reach. I also had about 50 people screaming my name because their brand new eraser was "too small", poking me to get another pencil because fíjese que they lost the first one, and pulling my shirt to ask me to draw for them. That makes 100 little hands grabbing me. Obviously, personal space means nothing here. I had to take a few minutes outside before I could continue with the grabby hands.

Rules! Order! Expectations! 

Getting started on the drawing. Some blank stares. 

Ana, one of my 9th graders, is actually really good! (She rolled her eyes when I told her that. So sassy.)

Erik, too. He's taking on the advanced drawing on the nice easels the grant money bought.

We had some adult men show up. I hope they stick with it because they'll make a great addition to the gender charlas we WILL eventually start. 

It was a pretty overwhelming experience. In the midst of it all, a representative from the ARENA political party showed up and donated refrigerio (mini orange sodas and crackers) to the class. He even ran out and bought enough for 50 people. He didn't give a stump speech, thankfully, but I still felt a little weird about accepting food from a political party. We have the mid-term elections coming up in March and the parties are already getting ruthless in my community.

Selfishly, I wish we had a smaller group. Preferably teenagers and young adults. Preferably those who respect my personal space bubble. I'm genuinely interested in gender empowerment and equality here. For example, as the class dragged on a large group of young men showed up in the cancha to play fúbol. I got the same panicky feeling I always get around groups of men that at any second they were going to say something inappropriate towards me. I never used to feel this way before El Salvador, but now it's a daily fear for me. I know that after a wildly under-planned class I could not handle a rude piropo from this crowd.  And that is why I want to work on gender here. Because women should not have to feel hunted like this. I know I can't change that part of the culture, but I can at least get a conversation going among young men and women.

(In case you were wondering, I didn't hear any piropos. But I'm not so optimistic to think that nothing was said amongst the group.)

Leo asked me how I was doing and I started freaking out about the charla schedule. We're all off now! How am I going to work with all these people!? We have responsibilities to uphold the stipulations of the grant!

He just smiled and said, "Yes Ale, but we have soda." He drained his mini soda and got back to helping the kids perfect their 2D apples on a branch.

I couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of it all. Soda and some time to draw. Everyone was welcome. It was crowded and hectic, and yet all so simple in the end.

I know the group will eventually tapper off. This always happens when something is new and free in the community. I guess we'll just have to see how it all pans out. In the meantime, enjoy a soda.

Children everywhere!

The theme of this week has been children! Children everywhere! Poking me and screaming my name! Ahh, the future.

On Wednesday we celebrated the end of the school year with my 9th graders. I am so proud of them! In March I had them draw the outline of their hand and answer five simple questions: What is your name, How old are you, Where do you live, What are three words to describe yourself, and What is your favorite food? I ask the question verbally and they write the response. It's incredibly difficult, but I'm not really an English teach and at the time it seemed like a good pre-test.

Everybody, every single student, improved. Even if it was just by adding a few words where there was nothing before. I'm especially proud of one student who earned a 100% and two full sized Snickers bars.

Woo! Guess this means I'm a good teacher, right? ;)

We also had cake and they took turns one-upping each other with thank you speeches. We've come a long way since my little outburst in March. I'm genuinely sad to see this group go. I know for certain one student is going with a coyote this month to the US. When I asked him how he felt about it he said he was sad, and kind of left it at that. I wonder if he's ready to leave his family, perhaps forever. I know that if he wants to go, he's going to go. I just wish him the safest future possible. The challenge for the kids who stay in El Salvador is to either pass high school or get a job, all while avoiding the gangs. I think it's a difficult time to be young in this country.

In a few weeks I'll have more photos from graduation. I'm a guest of honor because I'm giving them diplomas. This means I have to wear a dress and something other than Tevas, and maybe do something other than throw my hair in a scrunchie (I legitimately use scrunchies here). We'll see what I can put together.

Me and the class. Notice the map of America in the background? Thanks Jodi!

Felicidades clases...! Con amor, Ale...! (I have no idea why they did this ...!)

With the cake. I got the fancy kind with fruit in the middle. 

Wednesday was also the last day of school. In El Salvador, school goes from January to November. I took the last minute opportunity to donate five soccer balls to the school. I got the balls donated from One World Futbol Project, a great organization that donates indestructible soccer balls around the world. I agree with them that you can never underestimate the power of play. I really think the soccer balls will add some fun to las días en la cancha next year!

Some of the 9th graders helped me out with the donation. 

Immediate play! 

The 4th grade girls with a ball. We played hot potato for about 20 minutes with it!