Kidnapped?

The following story is typical to the Peace Corps.

Yesterday, I was finally eating a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in the comfort of my home when Maricela, one of the youth in my community, dropped by and asked if I was free to hike down to the river "tomorrow."

No, I said, I have to go to the capital tomorrow.

What about tonight? she asked.

Sure, I said, I can go tonight.

I met up with Hernan, her brother, and their friend Anibal at 3:30 p.m. and we started walking. On the way, we stopped by Hernan and Maricela's house.

When will you be back? their dad asked.

Tomorrow, Hernan said.

My mouth dropped open. How could they forget to tell me an all-important sentence like, Hey, we're spending the night?

I can't do this, I said. I have to be on a bus at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow.

Eventually I was convinced to continue with them and book it out of there at first light. I had no toothbrush or change of clothes, but I was more worried about things like, where will we sleep? And, will it be cold? I had to call my host family and tell them that this wasn't the quick hike I thought it would be. I resisted saying I had been kidnapped, please send money.

We hiked down to the river, a pretty easy 45 minutes except for the crossing where there was no bridge or stones (Hernan ended up carrying me across.) When we got to our campsite, which was on land owned by Anibal's family, we cooked corn, bananas and other vegetables that were growing nearby (boiled bananas are the best food ever.) Everyone had planned on bathing in the river, but only Maricela ended up doing so because it was pitch dark.

In answer to my sleeping question, we slept in hammocks and yes, it was cold. It was so cold that I couldn't sleep at all. At 12:30 a.m. I left my hammock and decided to sleep on a corn sack on the ground near the fire. Maricela, cold as well, ended up spooning me.

At some point, about a dozen mosquitos bit me through my pants, but other than that and the cold, it was actually a fun night.

I set my alarm for 5 a.m. the next day. When it went off, it was still dark, so we slept a half hour more. Then I made everybody get up, even though it was still dark, because I wanted to basically run back up the hill to my house. But then hora salvadorena, the endless dallying and disregard for time, came into play. I tried to chivvy people along without being a Nazi but nearly lost it when the boys started picking corn instead of putting out the fire. On the hike back uphill, I nearly left them all behind.

After the fastest bucket bath ever, I made it to the capital. Still a little shell shocked, but alive and surprised at my own patience and flexibility. (Peace Corps Volunteers, sorry for repeating the mantra.)

Here is a long-awaited picture of my site. It's actually my host family's finca, or the land where they grow coffee and oranges and pineapples.

Paz y amor. Send your love.