Green thumb

Every weekend I go down to the garden to check on the plants. No, I'm not the one doing the daily watering. That falls to my host dad, and he seems to like taking care of the plants. I'm more of the emotional support rather than the green thumb.

But hey! The climate is so perfect for growing here we don't even need luck! While I'm sweating buckets the plants are growing at ridiculous speed, and every week I'm closer to my grilled zucchini and basil pesto.

Calabacines.

Albahaca.

The green beans are up to my shoulders, which is equal to one Otinia. 

Last night, so frustrated with trying to explain what a zucchini is, I Googled it for the whole family. We looked at recipes, full grown plants, and translated it (calabacin). We did the same thing for basil, because THAT was hard to explain as well. They'll probably be ready just before I leave for Italy. What a nice send off :)

Woo Leo!

Yesterday I went to an inauguration for a new tourism store in the pueblo that will sell local artisan's work. Of course my highly esteemed counterpart, Leo, had a huge presence in the store. He also teaches groups of women and youth how to make handicrafts and lamps out of henequin, a fiber stripped from maguey plants (aka agave) that is plentiful where I live. Actually, Osicala is the maguey capital of the country. Betcha didn't know that!

I'm very proud of Leo. He was a great counterpart during the art classes. I'm happy that the pueblo and more organizations are noticing him and including him in projects.

A bunch of different government and NGOs showed up for the inauguration. I mainly showed up to support Leo and Dana, another PCV who helped with the store. Oh, and I assumed there would be refrigerio.

They're still working out some details like who's going to work in the store, and how the artist will get paid. But as soon as that's figured out, I'm sure it'll be great for economic development. The store is beautiful, Leo's work is amazing, and it was a fun day.

Leo talking about his work. 

A slew of organizations.

Cutting the ribbon. 

Dana and Leo, def getting photobombed by Lucio.

Me and Mayra with our pieces of ribbon. How cool?

"You're all safe here"

Tell me something you know about El Salvador.

I bet many of you were thinking about child immigration or gang violence, and well, you wouldn't be wrong. The two are tied together- kids leave because it's not safe, young gang members are deported from the US, thus making it not safe. It's like a wheel.

This week we had another incident in my community and it'll probably never be solved or understood. The gossip was rampant, but now it's dying down. I'm hearing more of "Asi es la vida" than frivolous chambre.

This week we also celebrated inter-murals with the school. They don't have P.E. class, so they only get one week out of the year to play together outside. We make a big deal out of it. There's a parade with madrinas and posters, and some students have uniforms. It's supposed to be fun and unify the school.

Madrina Marilu with the 6th grade boys team.

My 9th grade girls.

3rd grade boys reppin Baca.

We walked up the highway that runs through my community. 

Talking with the students. 

When we made it to the cancha, the teachers explained to the kids that they are safe here. It was such a weird juxtaposition- these little kids with their posters and the dark cloud of violence hanging over them.

These pictures show a sea of faces, but they're individuals to me. I know these kids and I feel invested in their future. I don't want to say "Asi es la vida" because they deserve more than that. They deserve true safety and support.

I wish I knew how to make that happen.

Show me your team!

 Here's something I bet you didn't know about El Salvador: the people are more resilient than you can could ever imagine. Try to remember that when the statistics and dark clouds obscure your perception.

My two little neighbors who were madrinas eating their panes. 

Check out last year's inter-murals here.

Putting time in

I really wanted to come back to the campo after going to the beach.

That might seem like an odd statement coming from me, but it's true. I hadn't left my site in what felt like a million years and so when I finally did I felt hurried and sweaty and tired. After a 5 hours stint waiting for the micro to arrive, I came home and nearly kissed the gray cinderblocks. Home sweet home!

So what have I been doing the past few months that I so desperately wanted to come back to? Have a look:

English class is... going. I realized that I actually love teaching, but I hate dealing with kids. I don't really have a good vibe with the new class. There are too many students crammed in to the small classroom, and they feel like they have to be there and so that makes it boring. Part of that was a mishap with the Directora, when she came in to my class and warned the kids that if they miss my class they won't be allowed to enter their other classes all day. I'm grateful that she values my time and is trying to impress that on to my students, but damn! I don't want kids getting kicked out of math class because they couldn't make my extra, apart from normal hours English club/class. Math is important, learning colors in English is not. It really isn't! One hour of English a week is not enough to really learn anything, but I do it because some kids want the exposure to something new. The other 80% of class though has been acting up and I'm getting real impatient.

I hope that the Directora approves my financial literacy classes to start next month. Understanding money and how it works is so much more useful than my not-really-English-class. Literally, no one cares if you can say "yellow" and "green". What's much more time worthy is learning how to save and budget money, even if it's a few dollars a month. Those skills alone will be relevant for life.

Of course, even of the Directora approves my classes there is a strong possibility that the kids won't show up. But I'm prepared for that. In fact, a part of me expects for this to fail. I really hope it doesn't though. Keep your fingers crossed.

One day I was coming to English class and I saw the 3rd graders playing COED SOCCER (whoa) with the soccer balls I got donated at the end of last year. It was a real pick me up to see them play. 

I attended the graduation party of my old host sister. She graduated college, which is a huge deal. She is the first in her family to go to college and I'm very proud of her. I think she's a good role model for other youth in the community. I came over before the party to help with all the balloons and paper mache. Sooooooo much paper mache. It was fun though because I got to spend some valuable time with my sobrina Aysel.

Everyone called her liscenciada all day, which means college graduate. It was fun!

I got to hang out with Aysel and take lots of selfies!

My adorable old host parents. My host dad walked my sister down the aisle for graduation, so he has a matching tie. I was so proud that my host mom tried out a new dress for the occasion. So fierce! 

There was a religious mariachi band, too! And I mean religious. Part of the deal is that they lead culto during the party. It was very them.

My host mom was overjoyed to see me. 

We also planned an elaborate surprise birthday party for my current host sister. This literally took weeks to plan and I don't know how but we kept it a secret! I think she knew something was up when Orbelina made bread early and her mom cooked a full meal and put it in tuperware. Me and the other bichas schemed a "trip to the waterfall" to get my host sister out of the house. I said I wanted to take a break from walking in the shade of the school and I snapped this pic right before my host family showed up in the back of a pick up truck. Surprise! We're going to Apalipul! The waterpark was actually really nice, and had lots of slides and a deep pool. I was of course the only one in a swimsuit, as the typical dress for swimming here is jeans and a t-shirt. We ate cake and rice and tortillas, and came home tired but happy.

Look more surprised! 

My host fam. Happy birthday! 

With the cake.

In February I planted seeds my dad sent me last year. I now have basil, zucchini and green beans growing alongside the green peppers my host dad planted. Before he went to health promoter school, he used to sell whatever he could grow in the market. That's what he lived on. I believe him because all of our plants are growing well! He and the neighbor kid made a bamboo/garbage/old door garden to keep the chickens out. 

We started the seeds in a big bucket. This was the end of February.

Then we built this! With old soda bottles, bamboo and the door. 

Zucchini coming in strong! 

These were my great grandfather's green beans. How cool that they're now in El Salvador!?

The basil, slow but sure. 

The door serves a new purpose. 

Rereading things

I've been feeling a little guilty about writing the last angry blog post. I honestly set out to write an "update" post just so people would stop asking if I dropped dead, but then when I got on a roll I couldn't stop.

Obviously, I'm over it. Just another ~experience~ brought to you by Peace Corps.

An update on Touristgate: there's really nothing my PM could do. The mayor doesn't identify us as PCVs, nor PC, nor is it an advertisement for prostitutes or drugs. She did try seeing what could be done, but alas, there is nothing to do.

I love that this is just a typical PCV thing, though.

Most of my frustrations with PC rules and policies can usually be cheered up by endless clicking through How a PCV puts it gently. We all gotta deal with some annoying crap, but at least we do it together!

I'm also going to the beach this weekend COME HELL OR HIGH WATER, so that's got me looking up. I still really need this break. It's been over 3 months since I left my site, and the pain is real. I'm honestly just looking forward to getting a decent night of sleep.

My host dad, being the caring and thoughtful person he is, allowed the 7th Day Adventists to host teen culto at our house every night this week. They have a speaker system, keyboard, and Spanish language bible enactment movies. And they really love to sing.

It hasn't been too bad though. Last night me and seven members of my host family crowded within 3 feet of the television so we could watch our novela. We'd try to turn the volume off when there was a break in the preaching, but it just got too ridiculous. What was more ridiculous was when a big norte blew the door open and about 50 community members saw us pagans watching tv! I knew I was finally with the right host family when we just giggled and closed the door again.

Haters gonna hate!

I also found this article on another PCV's blog and it is the best advice article I've ever read for future PCVs. It's just... perfectly summed up. And it even made me think about some things regarding my service and how I sometimes feel so useless, or angry, or like I want to throw my hands up and walk away. It's a must-read for all PCVs no matter how many months in you are. Read it here.

Peace Corps Week II

Happy Peace Corps week! Does it feel like a year? To me if feels equally like a few months and a few decades. A lot has changed between this year's PCW and last year's PCW. I think the biggest difference this year of service has made in my life is a greater sense of self-awareness. I've clearly had a lot of time to think about why I chose to do Peace Corps and all it entails, what it is I'm doing here, and why I feel motivated to keep it up. Processing every experience is helping me become a stronger person. 

I've learned to love people, whom I've only known a short time, unconditionally. 

I don't take much for granted anymore.  

I know my breaking point and how to deal when I've been brought to the edge. 

I have zero tolerance for first world problems. 

I value my independence so much more. I'd say that's the number one thing I'm looking forward to getting back in 6 months. 

And yes, there are have been ups and downs. Actually saying "ups and downs" doesn't even scratch the surface. I'm coming to the realization that I'm going to go home and no one will know what I experienced. I won't have a friend or family member I could turn to and say "Remember eating pupusas at Niña Orbelina's?" or "I'm really missing Otinia today." Blog posts only tell so much, and I think I can see why people say reverse-culture shock is a lot worse. 

I'll need to join a RPCV group real fast. 

Way to go, PCVs, whether you're just starting training or heading into COS. The Peace Corps experience is truly one of a kind.

Aw, shucks

Sorry again for never reading my blog post comments. You're all the best! Special shout out to Shalom Corps, B.D., and of course, Jodi.

Thanks for reading!

Peace Corps is not for hippies

I used to get really annoyed when people called me a hippie for wanting to join the Peace Corps. Yeah right. Like a real hippie could stay in one place for two full years and complete monitoring and evaluation reports. It just goes to show how little people actually know about the Peace Corps.

I now live with more rules, regulations, policies, and expectations than ever before. 

The tail end of February wasn't the best. I slid into a slump in the post-fair emptiness that was my schedule. I spared you all the sad blog posts, because I've written sad blog posts before and people don't really get it. It's hard to make sense of crushing loneliness in so many words, and make it entertaining to boot.

Valentine's Day, a day I don't normally care for in the US, just seemed to amplify my loneliness. Buying tons of internet saldo didn't help the situation either as everyone was too busy with their loved ones to Skype.

Then I found out that the mayor running for reelection in my pueblo used a photo of me and two other PCVs in his campaign propaganda without my permission.  I have no idea how he got the photo, but I was pretty damn pissed off. Obviously, it's a big fat NO for a volunteer to support a political party. It diminishes my credibility and violates the relationship with Peace Corps. And to add insult to injury he calls us "tourists."

So many things wrong with this.

I know this particular man isn't above staging photo ops, but I felt like this warranted some kind of retribution. I wish my supervisors could have called him to explain that this isn't ok. Send an email? A text? Common! Nothing ended up happening and I'm left denying rumors that I voted for the mayor (or that I'm swaying the vote somehow). Fortunately all that died down when he didn't win. Guess the gringos didn't do you any favors, bub.

Adding to the general crappiness of the month, my host mom's mom is sick. I really like this lady and I feel terrible that she's in pain. I went to visit her with my host mom who, despite having nine other brothers and sisters, is the only one to care for her. I figured it'd be nice to brighten her day, but I couldn't do anything to make her feel better and her groans of pain were almost too much to bare. It felt eerily familiar to watch a daughter care for her sick parent, and I had to get out of there. I stayed the appropriate three hours then caught the first bus heading back to site.

Throughout this slump I had something I was looking forward to, keeping me going during the "total lack of control" days. Kai, my trainee friend from San Antonio, was making it back to El Salvador! It was just me, Maria and Kai back when we first got here and we quickly came to rely on each other. I was so excited to see him in person because social media and Skype could never capture his personality. A bunch of us made plans to avoid the elections (which I was especially trying to do since my house served as headquarters for the local FLMN chapter and, well, Touristgate...) and spend standfast weekend at the beach with our friend Kai.

Standfast, like I explained last year, basically means you can't travel or leave where you're at typically due to elections or earthquakes. So that could mean 3 days in site or... 3 days at the beach? They've been drilling it into our heads for the better part of a year that it's better to text Whereabouts whenever you're out of site than to be scared about taking too many nights out of site (we get 3 nights off a month). I think it makes sense. Better safe than screwed. I and the other PCVs took this "text whereabouts" campaign verbatim and planned to bunker down at the beach, follow the transportation policy by taking the PC micro, and allow one more night at the beach to avoid travel over the standfast.

Then all hell broke loose and we were politely informed by senior staff that if we were to carry out this trip we would be administratively separated. Read: kicked out. Over one more night at the beach.

Now I should probably get this out there to avoid confusion: I understand why we have safety and security policies, I abide by them, and I generally approve of their existence. I don't feel angry with PCES staff (anymore) and I can see why they felt the need to come down hard on this policy. (In fact, this post describes how much I like staff members and our 3 night policy. This is my attempt at being neutral on this.)

But why was the policy enforced this time? I thought our texts to Whereabouts were more or less private? Why did senior staff have to vote whether or not to even enforce this policy? Why aren't our policies uniformly enforced?! Is it really a policy to administratively separate a PCV who spends one more night out of site a month? What happened to all that bonding that took place at the Staff/PCV retreat? Aren't these kinds of oversights and mixed messages the reason we needed a retreat to begin with?!

As you can see, I have a lot of questions and I don't think they'll be answered. This bothers me. Even though the average blog reader might not care about policy distinction, it feels very important to me. I've been in El Salvador for 586 days and I've followed the rules and tried my damnedest to live up to the core expectations. It's a shame that this weekend, which I so sorely needed, was taken from me last minute. It's a bigger shame that I don't feel like I can trust staff.

So with all my newfound alone time I wrote this blog post. Why, though? The fight was beaten out of me, literally, years ago. I know PC is a huge government agency just like any other, and like any other they're bogged down by policies and regulations which sometimes are executed and sometimes lost in translation. Being a PCV puts you at the bottom of the agency totem pole, and you just gotta deal with it. There's no point in fighting. You're not going to "win."

Remember when I told you to take the application power into your hands and ask about the prospective PC country's safety and security policies, program indicators, transportation policy, etc? It's because these things will heavily influence your life for two years. Like... when you want to see your friend at the beach but you can't. If you value independence, do you think you could live with the housing policy or implement the program goals? Do you? DO YOU!?

I guess I just want to tell my story. I want to cite true examples from my PC experience and share them with the world. In my way, I'm trying to correct the ridiculous notion that Peace Corps is for hippies.

Because what hippie would really put up with all of this?