More cake

Before I left for the USA we celebrated my host mom's birthday. It was a good time and we got to eat more cake. People are getting older, but I'm just getting fatter!

I taught the kids some yoga poses. David is pretty good!

Host mom's new shoes. They're actually super popular with nurses here.

Yum.

The family!

Of course, she has to have some cake on her face. Felicidades!

Disciplina

Ask PCVs what they think about the youth in El Salvador and they'll tell you three things: they eat too much junk food, they're poorly educated, and they have absolutely no discipline.

Discipline. We're all twenty-somethings, so what do we know about disciplining children? Well, we have our own childhoods to go off of. Whether it was spankings, time-outs, or the gold star system, we all had some kind of adult figure telling us when we were acting a fool. And one way or another we learned how to behave.

This isn't the case in El Salvador. The adultos mayores in the community blame the schools. Back in their day, they assure me, you greeted an adult with respect and knew how to act right in school. (I think corporal punishment in schools also played a role in their education.) Young parents blame other young parents for raising troublemakers that corrupt their perfect little angels. Oh, and it's also the school's responsibility to teach proper behavior and discipline.

But the school system is a wreck. To this day I have never been in a school that was not in the middle of recess. Never. Ever. Kids go to school for 3 hours and 30 minutes, Monday through Friday (if there are no community events and their parents care enough to send them), and roughly 1/3 of that time is recess. Hmm, can you even call it recess? The kids scream like banshees and literally swing from the rafters. They eat churros and dulces, then get a orange soda to wash it all down. There's not enough space to play sports or even draw hopscotch. It's chaos, it's loud, and doesn't instill discipline.

Certain behaviors are bound to emerge when you grow up with this kind of "learning" environment. Short attention spans, disrespect, an overwhelming sense of "who cares?" Add raging teenage hormones to that and you have my 9th grade English class.

I teach English to fourteen 9th graders every Thursday for one hour. It's the comprise I came to with the Directora. I like teaching English. Just the other day I taught them how to read numbers. I can write "sixty-five" on the board and they'll read it out loud. That's a huge success! I was so proud!

I have three rules in my class, just THREE RULES you must abide by: 1) be on time, 2) be respectful, and 3) participate.

Today they broke all my rules. We started 15 minutes late, which I don't like but it's an improvement from the last week. We were learning years, dates and ages to build off of the last two weeks of "numbers." It's kinda a big deal, because if you get across the border and an Arizona cop asks you how old you are, you better be able to say "sixteen" convincingly. But I digress...

Two kids are copying each other's math homework. Three guys sit stony faced with their arms crossed, clearly too cool to say dos mil catorce en ingles. The girls are chit chatting about- oh, I have no idea. Boys? College? Preventing teenage pregnancy? I'm getting upset, so I ask "How do you feel about years. Can you tell me all the years just by reading them?"

The sassy pretty girl that reminds me of my little sister tells me yes. But when I ask her to say  dos mil catorce en ingles, she says she forgets. I insist she look at her notes for help. Uh, she didn't take notes. No notes? Qué lástima, you didn't learn. I go around the classroom calling each troublemaker out one. after. the. other. And they all think it's a joke until I end the class. This is extra for me, I tell them, to teach you kids, the only kids in the entire community who are receiving English classes. You kids, who only have to follow THREE RULES. If you cannot or will not follow these rules, do not come to the next class.

Some of the bookish kids come up to me as I roll up my charla papers and apologize for their classmates. I feel bad for cutting their time short, but it doesn't change my mind about disciplining the others. I leave somewhat angry and a little distraught. I know there will be some kids at the next class, but who's to say they'll stay? Did I invoke the wrath of God when I embarrassed these kids in front of the class? Are they going to egg my house? Everyone has chickens here!!!! It took me 2 hours to think of activities to teach numbers, dammit! I keep telling these people I'm not an English teacher! Why couldn't they just listen!?!

Afterwards I had a long day of meetings and house visits, and arrived to my house exhausted. As I peeled off my sweat soaked clothes, someone said "Hola" at my window. It was the kid who was copying math homework. Oh boy.

Seven of the troublemakers came to my house to apologize. They do want to learn, and they'll be better. They promise. I apologize too. I'm new to teaching, it's true, but I'm well versed in respect. I want to create a positive learning space for everyone who wants to participate. Together we're going to make the classroom into a place of learning. It's a new concept to them.

I feel good now. They know I'm strict and they know bad behavior won't fly. I know that I need to take three deep breaths before I embarrass a kid in front of the class. It's a beautiful move forward, I think.

I have hope for discipline in El Salvador, if there are adults that take the initiative. The hardest part is finding a punishment that sticks. For teenagers, I knew embarrassment would, like, totally ruin their lives. It works! Ive, my host sister, knew that forced love is the best punishment for her son and nephew who were fighting.

Candid photo of the two boys on their knees with their hands on the other's shoulders. They sat like that for 30 minutes. It  was the funniest thing I've ever seen because they were still so mad at each other.  

I learned a lot about myself today. For example, I'd probably be fired from a formal teaching position very quickly. I also gained a new found respect for my father who teaches technology to 4th and 5th graders. My hats off to you, dad!

Command center

Check out my beautiful, custom made cedar table! My host uncle is a carpenter and I commissioned him to build me a mesa so I could finally get work done on my capstone. I've never missed Milner Library more than now, even with all the chatty freshmen and the guys who listen to music on their ear buds WAY TOO LOUD. 

I do everything at this table- plan english classes, eat meals, skype, work on El Camino, practice spanish, plan for world domination. I'm glad I got to pay a community member for his handiwork! Looks like economic development is starting to pay off. Get it? Pay off. 

I crack myself up.

Nuts!

Do you know where cashews come from? Before Saturday I had no idea. I figured they grew on a bush or something.

Not so! Meet the marañón fruit. It grows on big trees and has a little seed on the bottom.

Marañón fruit tastes great cut up. It's sweet and has the consistency of jellyfish.

On the tree.

One that fell and exploded. The bottom seed has a cashew in it!

Roasting the seeds from marañón we found on the ground. The coals are from the fire Orbelina made in the oven.

Boom! Roasted.

Crack em open with a rock.

Dig out the nut inside. 

Cup 'o cashews!

YUM!

Just another great experience I wouldn't get from freezing in Illinois ;) 

Pan dulce and economic development

It took me 6 months in the field to realize just how difficult community development is. I endured 6 months of failed meetings, late meetings, long meetings, nonexistent meetings. I've heard multiple points of view from angry people, defeated people, and people in control. I've learned a lot.

In COED we have two project goals: the CO is community development and the ED is economic development. I've decided that for the next 6 months I'm going to pour my time and energy into the ED goal. It's not that I'm abandoning my community development goal- I just think ED has more tangible pay offs. People can touch money, and that's what they ultimately need to support their families. Hopefully after some success in ED, the CO will come naturally. (There's a lot of if's in that sentence, but I have hope.)

I have ideas for groups, projects, grants, and so much more. There really is a lot of opportunity in my community and I always see new start-ups looking for development. The first step in my ED takeover is doing a slew of business diagnostics in the community. PCES is improving our MRE (monitoring, reporting and evaluation) tools, so in order to give good feedback I need to get out the clipboard and clicky pen.

Here's some photos from my first business diagnostic with Nina Orbelina, the woman in my community who bakes bread and makes pupusas. She's an intelligent woman and I really get along with her kids. I buy her bread every Saturday along with the rest of the community. It's great dipped in coffee! After figuring the costs of every ingredient, we found out that Orbelina makes about $40 every Saturday (for 6+ hours of work). She was very satisfied with that number. Check out the bread process:

Whipping up 60 eggs.

Teamwork! Mother/daughter style. 

Mixing the eggs into 50lbs of flour.

A lot of stuff goes into the mix, like 3lbs of fresh cut pig fat.

Greasing up the latas with more fat.

Scooping it in.

She has about 60 latas of different sizes.

The oven. Looks familiar? 

Putting in the latas. 

Each lata gets a healthy dose of sugar on top. They don't call it pan dulce for nothing!

Finished product!

PC guilt

I had always wanted to write a witty, well written blog post about the pitfalls of PC guilt. It's an outrageous, only-happens-with-Peace-Corps-Volunteers phenomenon that one day I will rant about. But this is not that day.

Honestly, I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally I am spent. This week I've had to deal with death, suicide, near death experiences, and so much else. (Before you get all up in arms- none of these things happened to me or were malicious in any way. Just a sad week in the community.)

I'm leaving for the US soon for my first trip back. It's been 9 long months without American comforts, my family, my friends. It's all too easy to take a mental vacation and think about what I want to order at Starbucks (though it's almost always a coffee frap), what nail color I want to get with my mani/pedi (I'm thinking Tiffany blue), and just check out completely. I really, really can't wait for this trip.

That's where the PC guilt kicks in. PC guilt comes in many forms.

Feeling sick and watching 30 Rock all afternoon? Guilty.

Hoarding Cheese-itz from your host family because they're SPECIAL from the US? Guilty.

The PCV next door legalized a woman's group, built a bridge, and saved a basket of newborn puppies from drowning? Guilty.

The last PCV did all these great things, when are you going to do anything? Guilty. 

Also, when you get home after teaching English class, and your class went well and you visited a community member so.... you get to take a break now. Right?

It had been a long, terrible week. I earned a break. I needed a break. But I saw on my calendar that it was my community guide's granddaughter's 9th birthday. Her mom left to go to the US in January and I think she's been pretty torn up about it. I mean, who knows when she'll get to see her again? My host nephew went 11 years without seeing his mom. All I have to do is wave my American passport and get on a direct flight home.

Guilty.

So I drag myself outta the hammock, put on some stretched out thread bare clothes and hike it up the mountain to her house. And you know what? I'm glad I did. I always feel better after listening to the angel on my shoulder, even if she makes me feel like a guilty turd.

Gettin stuff done

I've been pretty busy this week gettin' stuff done. Some things have really sucked, but I've also had some major break throughs.

I met with a representative from the microfinance institution I want to do a case study on for my master's. It's been a ridiculous process trying to pin down people and get a better sense of their involvement in my community. I'm working on it, though, and that's all that matters.

One of the ADESCOs I work with is making significant steps in planning a water project. I've been working with the treasurer and the president to explain the grant application, find out where we get land titles, and unite the directiva. We have an important meeting tomorrow, and we're expecting a strong turn out!

I taught my first official English class on Thursday. I've been negotiating with the local school for the past two weeks on how many hours I'll teach, which grades, how many students at a time... What it all came back to is that I can't/won't do the job that a Salvadoran can earn a salary for, therefore, I will NOT be the English teacher. I'm also not big on classroom management or children, so we decided on 1 hour outside of school time for 9th graders only. It's not the best situation, but I'm hoping to gain more confianza with the director and get to use the school on Saturdays to teach English for all ages. (The class went really well, btw! There are 14 students and they respond well to my kookiness!)

And this morning I cooked more comida tipica with the women's group. Today we made fish tortas (because of lent). I forgot to bring my camera, but I wanted to show you what Salvadoran tortas are. Just like how Salvadoran enchiladas are nothing like their Mexican counterpart, tortas are meat filled fried corn mash in the shape of falafel. They put them in a tomato soup broth with cabbage and guisquil. They were good! And they completely sold out, which is always a good thing.

Perhaps the most important task I've had this week is deciding where I'm going to order take out from when I spend the night in San Salvador waiting for my flight to AMERICA. PCES is making me use one of my hard earned, only-get-2-a-month vacation days while I'm in SanSal so I plan to use it wisely. I keep changing my mind between chinese, indian, greek and a platter of chicken wings. Either way, I'll be sure to have a Cadejo Roja on the side. I'm super excited to go to the US, even though I'm only spending 3 days in a city I've never been to before. But me, my parents and my hermanita are going to eat and shop our hearts out. (Big ticket items- deodorant and earplugs.) They're hoping for warm weather, I'm hoping for snow. I need a change from this 100+ degree weather!

I need to bring back this Salvadoran microbrew!

Aysel's birthday

Aysel turned 3 years old on Sunday. She's the most interesting little human I've ever met, and I'm so excited to watch her grow and develop!

The fancy shamncy cake (Aysel's middle name is Nahomi, which they sometimes call her if she doesn't come quick enough.)

Birthday girl cuts the cake!

It's tradition to smash the birthday person's face in the cake. Aysel was scarred for life and absolutely REFUSED to "sniff the cake" or "lick the cake." Did I mention she's smart? They smeared cake on her anyways. 

Birthday girl and mommy. 

The Salvadoran anti-smile.

Me and my Aysel!

I took a bit of icing off her face. She was not amused. (I love her face in this one!)

Happy Peace Corps Day!

On this day 53 years ago John F. Kennedy established the Peace Corps. All over the world and back home in the US, Peace Corps staff and Volunteers celebrate March 1st as Peace Corps Day. I've never worked for an organization that has it's own holiday. I think it's pretty cool. 

Today I'm starting my 6th month as a Peace Corps Volunteer. That makes 9 months in-country. I'm a little astonished at how quickly the time flew by. As much as I miss bacon and hot showers, I hope the time doesn't go by too fast. I love being a PCV and I don't want it to end. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I applied to Peace Corps because I wanted to be a PCV. If that seems simple, it's because it is. PCVs are a special breed of people. There is no other organization that does what we do and lives how we live. It's challenging, and it's awesome. I'm awesome. I'm a PCV. 

I'd be more modest, but it's Peace Corps Day and I'm a PCV. So let me reflect on how great it is to be a Volunteer. Little by little, I'm becoming fluent in another language. I'm bringing new projects into a rural community- projects that will better the lives of community members and open them up to more opportunities. I have so many amazing friends, both unique Peace Corps Volunteers and host country nationals. I'm learning to be more patient and to think critically when things don't go as planned (and things rarely go as planned). I'm integrating into a new culture, taking on new customs and eating food I never knew existed. I'm living a completely different life, and how many people can say they've done that? I'm a new person, really. I even changed my name to fit in. It was so damn hard in the beginning, but the Peace Corps wouldn't be the Peace Corps if it was comfortable or easy. 

Oh, and did I mention that I'll have a master's degree in a few months? An even smaller number of PCVs are Master's International students as well. It is not easy to write your thesis from under a mosquito net, combating the scorpions and mentally blocking out the screeching roosters. But it's doable. And I'm getting it done, one page at a time. 

To be honest, I haven't done much to celebrate today. I woke up, hand-washed my clothes, make some coffee, played hide-and-seek with the kids. I chatted with my host dad and then I swept the dirt from my room. It's hot today, about 100 degrees. I'm sitting here drenched in sweat, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm a PCV after all, and just being here is awesome.