Women, credit, and fiscal responsibility

Peace Corps really likes to push working with women. Which is great, I'm all for women. Especially if it means I can help them gain some financial independence and self-esteem.

FUNDESA is an amazing organization that reached out to my community's women's group about starting a grupo de ahorro. Women often get rejected for loans because they have little to no income, formal work experience, reading or writing ability, etc. Oh, and sexism is a problem, too. Savings groups help women put away small amounts of money like a savings account, but when one woman has an emergency and needs a loan she can ask the group to give her a credit from the total savings in the caja. The FUNDESA promotora visits every week for eight weeks to help establish the group's administration and elect internal rules. We're on week three and it's going very well.

I'm excited because money management is a huge part of my PC service. I'm piloting a fiscal responsibility class for youth in my community and I plan to tailor some of those lessons for the women's savings group. Fiscal responsibility, described as "living within your means, regardless of the level of those means," is hard, especially when you're trying to live on a few dollars a day. But the women genuinely want to learn how to use their money wisely so they can help their children make better choices in the future. Isn't that amazing!?

I'm so fortunate to have grown up with fiscally responsible parents. I have no idea how they managed to put themselves through college, all while working full-time jobs and raising the world's most perfect little angel. I'm assuming it had something to do with a lot of hard work and Republican bootstrap mumbo-gumbo. I love my parents from the bottom of my heart and I am so proud of them. Now I get to carry on the economic privilege they invested in me by living in a very poor developing nation! (Ok, that one mighta sent mom over the edge. Sorry!)

I accepted the role as Community Organization and Economic Development PCV thinking I'd use my PR background for the CO in COED. I'm finding out that I can do the ED half, too, and I can see the coveted change all PCVs yearn for in the women of this savings group. I gotta say, it looks pretty good:

The treasurer, promotora, and secretary leading the group in deciding the minimum savings required per week. They voted on $.50. 

The first woman to put savings in the caja! Woo!

Swearing to abide by the internal rules they voted on so the group can be successful. 

Everything is upside down!

I just have to write something because everything is UPSIDE DOWN town over here!

It all started when I visited my community guide today. I told her that I cannot be a candidata for the upcoming fair. It wasn't a complete lie, but I probably twisted the truth a little much. I just feel really uncomfortable asking the community to buy votes from me. Oh, and my biggest competition is a 3-year-old girl. I explained that there is a rule that PCV's can't handle community funds, therefore I will not be representing them in the pageant.

I expected her to get mad. We're less than 2 weeks away, and about $3,000 away from what we need to put on the fair. But she didn't get mad. In fact, I think she realized how awkward I felt telling her no and eased up on her typical "you never do anything" tirade. I was grateful for that and played with her grand kids a little longer than usual.

Then I got home and was surprised with not only a new flat screen TV, but CABLE tambien! Um, what? I haven't had a TV the whole time I've lived in El Salvador and now I have TV and cable?! Other PCVs have their favorite telenovelas scheduled into daily life and complain about the constant campaign commercials. I was pretty indifferent when I saw in October that my house didn't have a TV, but it does help with learning Spanish. Meh.

It's been on since it got installed. We have over 20 channels and even a few of them are in English. I know, because when my host sister was channel flipping I saw the Jersey Shore flash on the screen and I started screaming! "That show! Jersey Shore! When we got here everyone thought we were like them, but we're not! We're not like the people on TV! I'm not Snooki! I'm not Snoooooookiiiiii!" I think I scared her so much she put on CNN and left the room.

Then later tonight I was doing the Insanity fit test, because what else would I be doing with my Tuesday night? I heard a Spanish speaking man talking about unemployment and the economy, so naturally I assumed he was one of the presidential candidates the country will elect on Sunday, February 2. Another commercial, right?

WRONG! My main man Pres. Obama was giving his (Spanish dubbed) state of the union address! And my 16, 25, 27-year-old host siblings were listening. I was seriously confused/intrigued/amazed. Why would they care? I bet you 75% of all the Americans I've ever known didn't watch the state of the union address tonight, much less listened to it without live tweeting. (Ya know, so people think they're into politics.)

I thought about it in the shower. I mean, on second thought it makes sense. They all have loved ones who live in the US, and they want to live in the US someday, too . The US gives some outrageous amount of aid to El Salvador (I'm too lazy to search now, but here's the Embassy webpage.) Big American brands like Coke and Doritos are sold in every corner tiendita, and fake Hollister and Ralph Lauren labels are sewn onto knock off pencil skirts. The state of the union is one way to keep tabs on their favorite country, straight from the horse's mouth.

When I came out to watch the address they quickly switched to the pageant. The pageant in my pueblo. The pueblo that's 10 minute bus ride away. Possibly the biggest event of the fair, the biggest event of the year! Wait.. why does my pueblo have a cable channel?! I caught myself saying "This is soooo Putnam." Then I realized saying things like that is why I'm still single.

My host sisters proceeded to call every girl who got up on stage in 5 inch stilettos gorda, fea and aburida. Half the girls were 13 or 14-years-old. "Common, Ale! Gossip with us!" I mean, me and my roommate Raechel used to eat pizza and yell at the TV during the Victoria's Secret fashion show? But supermodels earned my jealousy disdain with their conventional hot bods and perfectly tousled hair. These girls are just kids. And they can walk in stilettos. I didn't add to the chambre, but I did make some comments when they came out dress as corn, beans, the catholic church, cocoa, maguey, and other symbols that are significant to Osicala. I loved it.

So now I'm sitting here, my extension cord strung from my bedroom to the living room, typing away on my computer. With my internet modem. That works well enough to skype. They're gonna announce the beauty queen soon.

Folks, I've officially crossed over to the Posh Corps life. And it feel soooo good.

Boda

I've been to a funeral, birthday party, and graduation. I learned a lot about Salvadoran culture, food and family dynamics by participating in these celebrations. I was thrilled to be invited to a wedding. One more cultural experience to check off the list!

Well... I experienced it. And it's checked off for good. I'll try to give a fair and balanced review of the boda... 

If you follow my blog (ahem, Sara Lubke), you would know that I've been avoiding the Evangelical church. My host family is Evangelical, my neighbors, my ADESCO members. It's kind of a big deal, and it affects every aspect of their lives. I mean, one woman told me that she's only allowed to wear skirts because Jesus said pants were made for men. She doesn't remember which line in the Bible says that, but it's there.

I have a very hard time reconciling the message of the church and my personal beliefs. I won't get on my soap box, but geez. Imagine what we would call "bigoted, racist, and ignorant" in the United States then funnel it into the words and actions of the church. (I feel like this is where that disclaimer at the top of my blog comes in).

But no, that's not the whole picture. Evangelists swarmed on the country after the war, leading women to convert in mass because the preachers were against drinking and violence (two things their husbands loved). There's been a lot of good that came out of that. Families are stronger, young men spend less time in the streets.

I just can't take the "town in Footloose" method seriously. Do people really enjoy being yelled at, the preacher always telling them that hell is just around the corner? Apparently they do. Every Friday morning I wake up to the boombox blasting the Screechin' Preacher whose choice messages revolve around fiery interpretations from the Bible and the saving graces of socialism. It's downright uncomfortable when Mr. Screech denounces my heathen American culture of gays and black people (I can't make this stuff up). I know I'm a guest in this culture and home, but I just want to make my coffee and oatmeal in peace. So I bite my tongue and turn up some religion of my own. Beyoncé, any one?

All that being said, yesterday morning I put on a dress (I didn't want to push my luck with pants) and headed over to my friend Mirna's house before the boda. I like her daughters. Glendis is the oldest at 12, but the way she works around the house you'd think she's older. We had a photo shoot because the kids looked so cute.

The females. Glendis chose to start wearing the velo this past year. 

In their best dresses. 

 We piled in the back of a pick up to get to the church, and besides the stares and overall "Look, a gringa!" commotion I felt fine. I stayed close to Mirna and asked questions as I saw fit. I took this on as a cultural investigation and she acted as my guide.

The bride and two little girls carrying pillows with screen printed pictures of the novios. 

People praying. Women and men generally sit on opposite sides of the church. Ya know, to keep their thoughts pure. 

 At the front of the church there are about 10 men sitting behind the mic. I notice the president of my ADESCO. He seems happy that I'm there. A few moments later they greet Alixsandra, la voluntaria de cuerpo de paz, on the loudest speaker system I've ever been so unfortunate to sit in front of. The wedding starts and the men at the front come up to the mic one by one. They're the church facilitators. I quickly learned that to be a facilitator, you needed to prove that you can scream and yell into the mic just as loud as Mr. Screech. Some of them read from the Bible, some adlib a sermon, some sing.

I get a throbbing migraine from the speakers. I'm literally writhing in pain after the second hour. At the third hour I'm devastated when my kind, mild mannered ADESCO president gets his turn at the mic and denounces "those countries" that allow gay marriage and divorce. Because, ya know, divorce is an invention of the devil and you two love birds are bound FOR LIFE. A couple times everyone gets on their knees and prays out loud. I opt to be a conscientious observer and stay seated.

Finally, it's over and we're eating panes. You might remember this chicken leg and hotdog bun delicacy from graduation. I'm chowing down because all that Bible thumping makes me hungry. Glendis insists that I take a picture with the bride and groom, and that she uses my camera to take the picture. I awkwardly push my way up to take an even more awkward picture, that doesn't even take because Glendis didn't push the button for long enough. It's ok though. I didn't need to stand in line again to take another.

Of course, multiple women approach me to ask me how I feel. How I feel? Annoyed, sweaty, in a ridiculous amount of pain. Instead, I smiled and complimented the church's infrastructure. They took that to mean, "See ya at the next vigilia!" I'm doomed.

I got home and went immediately to sleep. I woke up to eat an apple (I really need to go grocery shopping) and then went back to sleep. I felt absolutely whipped out, but I'm happy I went. I'm not gonna like everything here in El Salvador, but I still want to have the experiences. My checklist is waiting.

Lot's of wedding gifts! 

PDM

This past week COED '13 had yet another training, Project Design and Management. We were asked to bring a member of our communities as a way to promote sustainability. I asked la nina Otinia because she's my good friend and I think she'd like to spend a few nights in a nice hotel with great food. We had fun, even took a few selfies. In hindsight, the training would have benefited a member of the ADESCO that is planning a water project. Good thing I took notes so I can have my own mini-PDM with them!

In the 3-day training we planned a community project from community voting to budgeting to grant writing. It was a LOT of information to take in, but I felt like it was all a review. I'm so ready to start projects, it's crazy. I feel like grad school and the past 6 months have been one ridiculously long training in community development and all I want to do is prove that I get it. I can do this!

I had to remind myself that all of this was new, intimidating, and strange to the salvadorans. My own community has had many PCVs in the past and they're not unfamiliar with the solicitud process. But that doesn't mean they're ready to go like me. They're slow to get started, difficult to stay motivated, and scared to take the first step. They don't teach you that in grad school. They tried to make it clear in PST1&2 that salvadorans have a history of self-doubt and false starts, but you'll never really know the perils of pena and in-fighting until you try to plan a meeting/project yourself.

This training gave us the tools to plan. And so I plan to use big charla poster paper to outline the general process of project planning. I'm an impressionist sort of thinker: I start with the big picture than make hundreds of little lists with every detail possible. (Shout out to grandma and our favorite impressionist painters!)

Starting with the general idea- we want clean water- then breaking it down by concrete steps we need to take is why PCVs exist. It's this kind of planning and thinking that may fall short with salvadorans, and where the PCV can really be a leader in the community.

Post diploma ceremony. Otinia's in the pink!

One part of PDM I absolutely loved was that all the PCVs snuggled slumber party style in one casita to catch up, chambre, vent, and honestly, just speak English. There was a Beyoncé dance party and awkward childhood picture show. Some PC countries have cohorts of 50+ and it's impossible for all PCVs to spend time together as a tight knit group. Just another reason I'm happy to do PC El Salvador!

Body By Ale

Have you gained the “first-year fifteen”? Feeling out of breath as you walk to your community guide’s house? Want to get beach-bod ready for the next swearing in party? HIIT can help with that!

What is HIIT? High Intensity Interval Training involves short but challenging bursts of activity followed by a period of rest. The athletic community has replicated HIIT into many different regimens such as CrossFit, Insanity, and boot-camp style classes. HIIT is hardly a new phenomenon but it’s recently become a favorite among medical professionals and athletes alike. In 2012, a study lead by exercise physiologist Martin Gibala, PhD, found that HIIT workouts can provide the same cardiovascular and muscular benefits in half to one-third the time as typical, longer endurance workouts[1].

Why is HIIT ideal for PCVs? HIIT cycles typically last between 20-30 minutes, which is perfect for the hardworking PCV. Workouts take up minimal space, with most exercises only requiring your body weight, an interval timer, and a yoga mat or towel. It’s easy to design your own workouts and the quick pace will keep your mind from wandering. Exercise is also a great stress reliever. Would you believe me if I said it was fun, too!?

There are tons of resources for HIIT workouts on the internet. I suggest www.dailyhiit.com and www.bodyrock.tv to get started. Try swapping exercises and experiment with work/rest intervals to find what works best for you. Interval timers are free in the App Store or you can keep an eye on your digital watch. HIIT may seem intimidating at first, but after a few weeks you’ll step up to the timer ready to rock!

I like to structure my workouts starting with pure cardio, then legs, arms, and abs. I also pick exercises I can do barefoot because I hate washing my socks (lame argument, I know).

***It should be said that I am in no way a medical professional, nor have I ever been certified as a personal trainer. I’m just a fellow PCV who loves to work out! As always, consult your PCMO for medical advice and treatment before starting any exercise program.

Alex’s Four by Four Workout

4 cycles of 4 sets of exercises. :45s work/:15s rest. Push yourself during the work periods. You shouldn’t be able to talk because you’re working so hard. Take an extra :20s break between cycles. Remember to breathe deep through your nose and drink water during the :20s break. It’s just you against the clock, baby! Let’s go!

1.       Squat jumps into streamline

·         Squat low with your buns behind you. Keep your knees behind your toes. Jump up, fully extending your legs, abs drawn in tight to your spine. Shoot your arms into a streamline position, one hand on top of the other. Land gently into another low squat. Targets: quads, calves, buns, abs.

2.       Curtsey lunge with side kick (optional pichinga weight)

·         Stand with feet hip width apart. Take a giant, diagonal step back with your right foot. Bend both knees like Sansa Stark curtseying. Keep your abs contracted so you don’t lose balance. Push your body up with both legs, slowly and carefully bringing your right leg up for a side kick, toes pointed, knee facing forward. Bring your feet back to hip width apart and repeat with your left leg. Targets: buns, obliques, calves.

3.       Push-up with side plank

·         Do a basic push up. Make sure your back doesn’t slouch. When you push up, rotate your body weight on to your right arm, reaching with your left arm straight to the sky. Don’t lock your elbow, but try to keep your right arm straight. Your body should be flat as if you’re up against a wall. Push your hips up to tighten your obqliues. Hold for 5 secs, breathing steady. Rotate your body down to a high plank, arms directly under your shoulders. Repeat the push up and alternate to your left arm. Targets: abs, obliques, inner thigh, triceps, biceps, chest, shoulders.

4.       2 V-ups, 2 bicycles  

·         Lie flat on your back with your arms at your sides. Contract your abs, bringing your knees to tabletop position and lifting your flat back to make a V. Keep your arms parallel to the ground. Lie flat again, repeat. Contract your abs bringing your right elbow to the left knee, pointing the toes on your right foot. Repeat on the other side. Targets: abs, obliques, inner thigh, back.

(Adapted from an El Camino article)

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[1] Gibala, M. et al. (2012). Physiological adaptations to low-volume, high-intensity interval training in health and disease. The Journal of Physiology, 590, 1077-108.

El Camino

Some of you may know that I took on the role of Co-Editor of the PCES publication El Camino. I love the magazine, and I'm so thankful my fellow COEDs are entrusting this responsibility to me. Honestly, editing this magazine is peaceful for me. It's one thing I know I can do well!

Past 2 covers of El Camino

Can you believe that you can't rotate images in Blogger? It's like the dark ages.

Not every PC country has a PCV publication. In fact, most don't. It's a very special opportunity we have in El Salvador and a great souvenir from PCES. 

Here's a special treat- my first Letter from the Editor. I won't share all my Camino edits here, but I'm especially proud of this letter. Hopefully it'll give you an idea of how much I love El Camino! 

Hello Peace Corps El Salvador! 

I'm so grateful to take on the role of Co-Editor alongside Jade. Trust me, our beloved Volunteer publication is in good hands! Jade has done an amazing job compiling articles and heckling you all for submissions, and I'm here to join in the fun.

I love El Camino and everything it represents for Peace Corps Volunteers. I remember reading the July/August 2013 issue during the first weeks of PST thinking "Wow, what a cool Peace Corps time capsule!" El Camino is what we're thinking, feeling, doing and eating right now. Someday when we're old and wrinkly (and thanks to the Central American sun, we might be wrinklier than we wish), we can pull out El Caminos and reminisce about swearing-in, community projects, and so much more.

Throughout my career as a PR yuppie turned Peace Corps Volunteer I've been responsible for seven organization's press releases and editor of four publications. Although I enjoyed writing for each of them, I've never felt as deeply invested as I am with El Camino. My goals as Co-Editor are to gather up our memories and freeze 'em like Han Solo in carbonite. I honestly couldn't think of a less-nerdy way of saying that. 

Here is a special place where we can connect, share our pride, and laugh at our mistakes. El Camino belongs to us. It is our responsibility as much as our opportunity to uphold this Volunteer tradition. I mean, how else will incoming PCVs know about the perils of leaving home without a stash of tp!?

Pep talk aside, I want to congratulate everyone on the small victories, big projects, and overall successes of integrating. COEDs will celebrate their 6 month mark in country in January, and Youthies are planning a swearing-in party for February I know we’re all excited for. I also want to welcome the 2014 Youth Development Trainees! Take a deep breath, you’re one step closer to becoming PCVs. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes and take every opportunity that’s offered to you. We’re so happy to have more members of the PCES family!

I hope you enjoy this issue of El Camino. As always, we welcome your comments, questions, suggestions, and personal anecdotes. And remember, it’s never too early to start writing for the next issue of El Camino. Submit those memories! I’ll keep the carbonite ready.

Alex Trimble

Co-Editor 

Life stuff

I've had an interesting couple of days.

It all started at 4am yesterday as my host sisters woke up to help their mom make over 800 tamales for the vigilia we were going to host. Every week someone from the church hosts a vigilia for the whole congregation. It typically lasts from 6pm-midnight but my host mom has stayed out to 2 or 3am before. My host sisters didn't ask if I wanted to help (RE: 4am wake up call), but I tried to do what I could during normal people hours. I didn't understand how important this vigilia was until they cleared out all the beds and dressers from my host parents house and trucked in about 100 plastic chairs. Uh oh, this is gonna be big.

I had to dodge my host mom all day, and I felt terrible about it. I really did. I'm not a good lair and I can't come up with good excuses, but there's also no way I'm going to participate in this vigilia. I will do a lot of things for cultural integration, but I will not do that. It's where I draw a personal line in the sand and respectfully retreat to my room.

I caught a break during mid-day when my presence was requested at one of my ADESCO's general assemblies. I was surprised to be invited since they've been avoiding me for weeks. (I had a miscommunication incident in which people thought I was selling high-interest loans....) I showed up not really knowing what to expect.

The agenda was to discuss the organization's options for fixing the water crisis. Sometimes the pipes will be dry for 3 or 4 days at a time and no one can wash their clothes, bathe, cook, drink. Just think about that next time you take a long hot shower. And these people have to fight for a water source. The mayor's office doesn't guarantee access to basic services (though by law it should).

We started off the meeting with my introduction. I stood up in front of about 50 of my neighbors and extended host family, ready to give my typical PC spiel. "Hola. Soy  Ale. Soy la voluntaria de Cuerpo de Paz..."

A man in the crowd begins to clap. Slowly. His neighbor joins him. A woman to my left joins, then the old men in the back.

They slow clapped for me. 

I could have cried right then and there. Being a PCV is often a thankless job. Some people just don't understand what you're trying to do here or why you're going about doing said thing that way. People in the US are just as bad. My own mother had the gall to ask me when I was going to start "working." As if assuming a completely new identity and gaining an entire community's wholehearted trust happens over night.

Inspired by the greatest slow clap of my life, I continued to tell the community how I'm not only the PCV but I'm also a neighbor. I live and work and eat in the same dusty mountainside as them, and I care about this community because it's my home. (Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a political campaign speech writer? Maybe I should've stuck with that.)

People really do like me here. They don't mind my Spanish mistakes, and they laugh at my jokes. I felt good  after the meeting, like I got one step closer to "working."

I got home just as my host family was greeting their fellow Evangelical worshipers into the house for the vigilia. Thankfully our vigilia was over at midnight. Six hours of the pastor screaming into the mic, calling on the congregation to repent, repent, repent! Six hours of shouting "Jesus Christo!" and feverish praying. Six hours I spent hiding out in my room drinking my emergency stash of box wine and watching Fight Club.

The first rule of Fight Club is... aw, you know the rest.

I surprised myself by getting out of bed this morning at the ripe hour of 6am so I could catch a bus into town and buy water, fruit and veggies. I don't like waking up before the sun clears the mountain side. Sooo early. Yuck. But I'm out of water again and I'm thirsty, so I grab my 5 gallon pichinga and wait for the bus to pass. And oh, the bus passes. Without me. I've never known a bus to be "overfull" with paying customers here so I was NOT IMPRESSED by the bus driver's decision to nix the gringa.

I couldn't sleep when I got back home, so I did some angry Pinterest pinning. So many recipes I want to make. Grrr. My host sister got my hopes up by promising a trip to Mundo Aquatico, the town pool I've been wanting to go to for months. But almost as soon as I put my suit on she cancelled on me. I read microfinance articles for the rest of the afternoon, only taking breaks to boil drinking water.

I've gotten better at recognizing when I'm letting a meh day turn into a bad, boring day. Boring is toxic around here. Boring days make you think of your bed at home and pizza and holidays, and all the other things you're missing. Boring takes you outta the mental game.

So I've decided to live up to my slow clap and get my butt moving when I feel the day lagging. Today I had English class with my host family. It's a small thing to do, but a huge step forward in my development as a PCV.

Aysel leans English

Today I had a preview English class with my host sisters, niece Aysel and nephew Edwin. We learned greetings like "Hello" and "Good  afternoon." We tried carrying simple conversions like this-

Hello.
Good morning. 
What is your name?
My name is Alex. 
How are you?
I am good. 

They loved it. Some people think English is hard to learn because we write differently from how we talk. But think about this- English has three tenses TOPS, no genero, and no subject-noun agreements. I mean, it does, but not in the same way Spanish expresses itself. So in a way, understanding English is pretty simple. Pronouncing English words is a whole 'nother story.

I actually enjoy teaching English, even though it's not my work area as a Community Organization and Economic Development Volunteer. We can teach English as a "secondary project," and many PCVs do because everywhere you go, everyone will ask you when you're going to teach English. With half of El Salvador's population living in the US and there being all the "good jobs" in call centers requiring English proficiency, it's pretty much given that you will be teaching English.

I didn't think I'd like teaching English, but I do. I'm a visual teacher so I use a lot of colors and grouping. My loud, clear presentation voice also comes in handy. I'll probably start offering classes to the public when the kids go back to school on January 20th. Looks like I have some lessons plans to write!

Go tell it on the mountain

Noah and Hilary, two amazing PCVs in my cohort, visited my site on Monday. They had friends visiting and wanted to show them the beautiful land of El Salvador. Of course, I took them up the mountain to see my favorite waterfall!

Me in my favorite spot. 

Only Cori made it up the ledge with me. 

Probably because it's stoopid dangerous. 

The PCVs

All the Americanos

What's cookin' good lookin'

Last Saturday I cooked chilate and nuegalos with the woman's group in my site. Chilate is a corn based drink and nuegalos are like deep fried yucca puffs with honey. Everything turned out delicious and now I know how to make something new for you all when I get back to Chicago!

Prep work: cutting up yucca so we can mix it with fresh corn kernels to make the 'mash." 

So much yucca!

Mixin' the yucca shavings with the corn. 

Adding fresh cheese into the mix. 

Squishing it all together. 

Carrying the yucca/corn/cheese mix on my head in the salvadorena way. On to the molino!

Pouring in the mix to make mash. 

Everyone in town pays a couple bucks to use this molino. It's the cleanest one I've seen here!

We made a ton of mash!

Deep fry that mash!

just to give you an idea of how much smoke there was in the kitchen. Respiratory infections are common among women here. 

Stirring the chilate.

Raw and fried nuegalos. 

Pour in some honey, and presto! 

I forgot to take a picture of the chilate, and I also forgot to taste it. My host mom was so excited I brought home chilate that I gave her the bag!

Celebrate!

Congratulations y'all, my blog hit 5,000 page views!

Thanks for following my great adventure :)

I almost forgot!

Did I ever tell you about the time THE Rosario Dawson gave me some words of wisdom?

Thanks, Christi :)

NYE 2014

I love New Years. I always have. I love getting dressed up and spending outrageous amount of money, because duh, it's the last sheebang of the year and the first of the new! You gotta bring it in right!

I decided to spend NYE with my host family because my host sister's birthday is on December 31. I honestly didn't have high expectations what with the lack of Christmas celebrations. But everyone kept talking about how fun NYE is, so I let myself get a little excited.

We had the whole family over for some fun. We spent the first 3 hours in darkness because, apparently, they turn the electricity off every year so homemade fireworks don't explode the lines? Something like that. We played dinamicas (short ice breaker type games) and destroyed two pinatas. After the pinatas, around 11pm, everyone moved to another family's house. I counted down the new year with my immediate host family and watch Wil shoot off some fireworks.

I got to call home for a few minutes after the new year. It felt good to hear my family. Luckily, Chicago and El Salvador brought in the New Year at the same time!

Our homemade pinatas.

Tamales, of course.

Some of the family after a dinamica.

Poor Santa. I thought we didn't celebrate Christmas?!

They really wanted the gringa to participate.

I broke it.

Mad rush!

I did it!

Me and my host sisters. Who's from the conservative culture?

Belky and Aysel, who stuffed all her candy in her shirt.

My cute old host parents.

The fam.

One picture Salvadorena.

One picture Americana.

Everyone wanted to take pics with me.

My Aysel!