My Hard Corps Life: English muffins and culturesickness

I woke up today feeling awfully homesick. Not necessarily homesick for home, though I did miss celebrating my lovely sister's 16th birthday. No, I was homesick for my culture. Culturesick? Sounds about right.

I think other PCVs will agree when I say that the months fly by, but the days are excruciatingly slow. Not everyday, obviously. Somedays I'm so busy I collapse as soon as I get home and I don't have time to reflect or complain about the power being out (again). But there are slow days, and they make me feel especially culturesick. Maybe it's because on slow days I do have time to internalize what's going on around me, and I don't like it.

I know it's childish, but on these days I feel like every flaw, hardship, and annoyance of living in rural El Salvador is a personal slight against me and my American-ness.

Sometimes it's just the giant spider living in my shower head or the wall shaking ranchera music at 5am that makes me feel completely inadequate, like campo life is spitting in my face. No one cares about my thoughts, or my feelings, or my sleep schedule. I'm the outsider who needs to fit in here, and if I can't take it I could go back where I come from!

Some of these slights are more real than perceived. Like after a meeting when my counterpart said that if I was expecting to work with a partner I should have gotten married. Or when I was called a bruja by young children when I set the minimum age for an art class at 12 years old. And how about that time I was told that I'm less of a woman because I used a machine to wash my clothes? That one hurt right in the feminism.

I do work hard to understand and integrate into my host culture, but sometimes it's just too much. The slights I feel for being an outsider are too real and they hurt. I wake up culturesick for America where independence, structure, and gender equality are treasured norms. For where I feel comfortable and understood. (Or at the very least, I'm not called a witch.)

So what do I do when I'm feeling culturesick? I make comfort food. I make... English muffins.

I endured quite a few more slights during the process of making these English muffins. No one thought I knew what I was doing, that I couldn't possibly be capable of making bread without at least 1lb of sugar, and I didn't want to listen to their sage advice regarding vegetable oil and kneading. I made them anyways, and they were the best damn things I'd eaten in weeks. The women in my host family even reluctantly admitted that yes, they were tasty (Score one for Second Goal!).

I might not always love this culture or strive to be pura salvadoreña, but I do appreciate the challenge of fitting in. Because that's what Peace Corps is- the challenge to change. Today was slow and I felt culturesick, but I'm also aware that in 16 months I'll be able to live my privileged and free American life again. This time, though, I'll have a greater understanding of what it's like to feel completely on the outside in a culture that doesn't totally accept you (or how you cook.) And THAT ladies and gentlemen will not only make me a better person, but a better American as well.

English muffins might not completely bridge the culture gap, but it's a delicious and buttery start.