Land of the free

I really miss America. I miss the ameba-free water, sewer systems, electrical grids, highways, opportunities, recreation, education... All the perks of living in a developed nation, basically. I loved America a little extra this Fourth of July now that I've lived in El Salvador for one year. Seriously, if PC teaches me anything (besides a profound appreciation for clean water) it will be that we are so fortunate to be Americans.

I use the word fortunate quite deliberately here. Illegal immigration isn't a new thing, nor is it very complicated to explain. People flock to America in order to have a better life, to provide for their families, and to escape the poor and dangerous communities they were born to. They face gangs, dehydration, dismemberment from the trains, and worse before even reaching the border. After that? Depends on how good your coyote is.

I know why they leave, and honestly, I can't really blame them. Even I get jealous when I hear about the sister who lives in an apartment in Arlington, VA with hot water, but I think the buzzwords they hear are paycheck and job. All three simply don't exist here.

It's no secret that men and women are constantly making the camino from my community. Some have even worked out a system where family members switch off years working in the US (and sending remittances home) until they are deported. One comes back and another takes their place. Those who are lucky enough to get steady work and avoid deportation generally never come back. Kids are raised by their grandmothers or aunts. A girl in my english class doubts she'll ever see her parents again. That is, unless she goes to them.

Since October more than 52,000 minors have immigrated to the United States. Most of the minors are unaccompanied and hail from Central America. They've called it an influx, a crisis, and depending on which side of the border you live, a great opportunity. America is hooking up children with their family who lives in the US! Let's go!

Wilfredo, my host nephew, left for the US with a coyote in February. He found out the coyote would take him and left within 24 hours. On his last night, family members kneeled in a circle and cried out to the Lord to protect Wilfredo on the camino. I don't believe I'll ever see such frightened and desperate praying again in my life. The next morning Wilfredo said goodbye to the only family he's known and left for a mother he hadn't seen in over 12 years. He crossed the border in 11 days, spent some time with immigration, and was reunited with his mother in 32 days total.

He'll have a deportation hearing. Sometime in the future. No one really cares or understands that now, though. He made it. And you'll make it too, if you've got the money.

There's been a big push to keep kids from leaving, even spawning a series of PSAs that show an aggressive coyote and a teen who ultimately dies from dehydration. I've never seen these PSAs on TV, and I have no idea if they'll help get the "No seriously, this is really dangerous!" message across. I'm thinking no.

America will always be there, and it will always be beaconing.

Art class

I'm so proud of the twenty kids who show up to Leo's art class on Thursdays. Right now the class is working on artesania while me, Leo and the ADESCO write a grant for painting supplies. I like being creative, but the delicate art of craft making is often lost on me. These kids definitely make better bracelets than I do! Leo's also a great teacher. He has all the patience in the world. I'll keep you all updated on the progress of the group in the following months!

Here's some photos of the class:

Before class everyone helps set up the tables and sweep the casa comunal.

Leo showing the girls how to do the thingy with the string.

Wendy lives down the road from me. She does a great job!

Daily grind

Coffee is life here in El Salvador. Growing coffee goes back hundreds of years in this region and many families still rely on the little batches they sell today. Noah and Hilary obtained nine different samples of coffee grown in El Salvador and Panama from an NGO that's trying to help growers cultivate specialty beans. So, when in El Salvador- do a coffee tasting party!

I wish I had more photos of the event itself. It's not a Noah and Hilary production if it isn't absolutely perfect and informational! We had a rating system, but the river of caffeine cursing through my veins reduced my score sheet to an array of smiley faces, doodles of coffee mugs, and "coffee" written in three different bubble fonts. It was a true party with COED PCVs, New youthies, a Response PCV and a JICA volunteer.  We had a great time!

Pre-ground beans. These grinding stones are used daily in El Salvador for grinding the wet corn into masa for tortillas. It's not a meal without tortillas! You can also grind the beans you grow by hand. 

So much coffee! 

I was actually pretty good. It's all in the wrist. 

Ready to brew!

Pizza time

Whenever people in my community ask me about about what I miss from home, I always make sure to include my dad's superb pizza from his wood-fired oven. I crave it alllllll the time. I was so excited when I got to my site and saw all these dome ovens scattered on people's property. Perfect for pizza!

Niña Orbelina, the woman who sells bread and pupusas in my community, has been hounding me for MONTHS trying to get my dad's recipe. She wants to sell real American style pizza, and who better to show her the ropes than the only American in town?! She's also seen a video of my dad's pizza oven and thinks pizza making runs in my genes.

Finally the day came when we bought all the ingredients, did a cost analysis, and made a huge batch of dough. It was a long day, but the pizza turned out great! We didn't have power all day so all hands were on deck to help cook. No power = no FIFA. We had a great pizza feast!

Working the dough.

Me and Lady, Orbelina's daughter. She has Down Syndrome and usually doesn't warm up to people, but she loves me. I submitted this photo to a PC contest because we're so cute.  

I'm trying to show Cati how to stretch the dough without making holes. 

Our ingredient boat. 

Inferno! 

Some of the pizza making crew.

Before inferno.

After inferno!

So proud! 

I brought some home for Aysel. She loves "pee-sas"

Just what I needed

Yesterday was Dia de la Maestra in El Salvador. I guess I'm technically a teacher for 1 hour every Thursday. I didn't think that would count for much, but then two of my students showed up at my house to invite me to come to the school at noon.

Now, I honestly forgot that it was teacher's day. I thought this was some meeting, or maybe the CDE (school board) was going to ask me when I'd get that shipment of soccer balls I promised to donate 2 months ago...

But no! It was a party! And I had to keep blinking so I wouldn't cry. My students couldn't have known how terrible this month has been for me. English class is one of the few things I really like, so I've always been pretty upbeat with them. I was so honored to be included in their celebration. This was JUST what I needed to get me over the dip (Thanks Jodi!).

Here are some highlights:

You like me! You really, really like me!

Drag was a popular option for the dances. We watched 4 choreographed dances and they were all great! 

I live in a very conservative community (think the town in Footloose), so I was fairly surprised by all the dancing. I think me and the other teacher's need to do a dance for student's day in July! 

THREE MEATS

Watching over my cake, giving me the creeps. 

The teachers!

The Stigma

June is the never ending month. I'm ready to get June 2014 done and over with because it's been the hardest time of my service. At the 11 month mark, I've had a lot of "Do I really want to do this for another 16 months" thoughts running through my head. Everything hit me hard and suddenly. Host family troubles, work troubles, trouble all around the country, and an overwhelming dose of culturesickness. I've had mini-melt downs before, but this time was certainly more intense. It seemed to me that if I was going to ET, it'd be now. RIGHT now. The stars were aligned and I had some serious decisions to be making.

I spent a lot of time reading blog posts from PCVs who Early Terminated. Why did they do it? How far along did they make it? Did they make the right choice? How do you KNOW it's the right choice? They all seem like fairly well-adjusted and happy people. Would I be happy if I left El Salvador and my PC family behind?

I checked out the PC manual on Early Termination and I couldn't get over the wording:

"A resignation is a decision made by a V/T that he/she no longer wishes to continue in Peace Corps service." 

No longer wishes. It comes down to the whims of my wishes whether or not to continue with service? The thing is I wish for running water, but I don't always get it. I wish for community partners to collaborate with me, but most of the time that's a bad idea. And I wish that the gangs in El Salvador would stop killing people, but that one isn't being granted either.

Early Termination is what happens when you've used up all your wishes and still, nothing changes.

Given the year of wishes I've made, do I still wish to continue with Peace Corps service? Well, yeah. I do. It's been my goal to be an RPCV for a long time. I didn't take the decision to apply lightly. I had to defend myself to a lot of people, mostly family members, that this is a worthwhile experience and the Peace Corps is a positive force for good. I've even had to convince myself at times that the small relationships I'm making in El Salvador are powerful and inspiring. (For the record- they are.) I've put a lot of time and effort into getting myself here, I definitely don't wish to quit before my service is served.

The truth of the matter is that Early Terminating is stigmatized in the Peace Corps world. It's a quiet, underbelly kind of stigma that no one really talks about but everyone knows. Don't get me wrong- no one, especially not a fellow PCV, would criticize someone's decision to ET. Only you know what's best for you, stigma be damned.

But for obsessive achievaholics like myself, the shame of leaving early is always pulsing in the back of my mind. It takes up the majority of the right column in my ET pro/con list, often disguised in different forms. Disappointment that I couldn’t “make it" and Won’t feel like a real RPCV are just two examples.

If I really wanted to go home, I would've been on a plane within days. PC staff is ready with support and a plane ticket to any PCV who makes the call. No judgement, no last ditch efforts to get you to stay. Just a ticket home.

After multiple pro/con lists, long distance calls, and panic attacks, I made the decision to stay. I thought it was weird that out of all those blogs that showed up in the Google search "Peace Corps Volunteer Early Termination," not a single one was from a PCV who seriously considered Early Terminating but stayed. I want to add this post into the mix. Ask me in 16 months if I think I made the right choice.

Maybe we don't talk about it, the stigma of ETing, because after you decide to stay things get a lot better. I mean, common guys, we have a graph about this. They don't call it the "Mid-Service Crisis" for nothin'. I feel like that's a cop out, though. Not talking about ETing just contributes to the sense of "false advertising" that trails the Peace Corps.

The entire month of June sure felt like a crisis, but in 5, 10, 50 years when I look back on this time it won't be because of my total breakdown. Nah, that part sucked. Instead, I'll look back on the great turning point of my service.

My diary/work journal. I keep general notes on every day of my service. I looked back and loved this entry so much. It's totally cool to talk to your future/past self right? 

Home life

Well, it can't be avoided any more. I'm having some serious troubles with my host site. I can be an incredibly emotional person (remember when I cried all over the Director of Peace Corps?), but I also try to counter that with cold hard logic.

After three sets of pro/con lists and talking it over with multiple people, I think I've finally narrowed down the source of what's making me feel so blue. My Project Manager is so kind and helpful, and she's going to take some steps with me to make it better.

If that's too cryptic for you, too bad. I do try to keep some things confidential while still updating the world with the goings ons in my life. The whole idea of this blog was to focus on culture and share El Salvador with my friends and family back home. Nah, I'm not having another blog crisis, but I do want to keep Third Goal in sight. After all, it'd be nice to win a trip to headquarters in Washington D. C.! (Check out some past Blog It Home winners here.)

That being said, I had a crazy experience yesterday. I was getting ready to leave for the day, packing my water bottles and snacks, when all of a sudden I hear this weird noise. It's kind of like what a lawn mower sounds like, but moving faster than a lawn mower could. The 8 year old boy I live with starts screaming and jumping around and at this point I run outside to see what's happening. And I run into a wall of ghosty white smoke.

Fumigation. The entire community, homes and along the roads, was engulfed in bug killing (and probably carcinogenic) smoke.

I freak out because, well, it's creepy and smells terrible. I run over to my host parent's house to ask if I should close the house up or if we should move to avoid breathing this stuff in. My host sister just kind of laughs. "They spray inside the house, too."

The smoke rising up through the roof of my neighbor's house.

I had a meeting with the health promotor later in the day. What's up with the fumigation!? It's part of the government's aggressive tactics to kill mosquitos and stop the spread of dengue. Some of you might be familiar with dengue. I've managed to stay dengue free for 11 months! Woo! But many a PCES volunteer have fallen victim to the fever. I guess I should be happy that my community is getting the ghosty makeover, but it still gives me the heeby jeebies. My bed sheets and towels smell like strong chemicals :(

The best news is, I'm assuming the fumes killed my little scorpion friend I shared on Facebook a few nights ago. Aw, shucks.

R.I.P. Scorpy