Que suerte!

I complain a lot about rural village life, and there are things about it that I will not miss...dirtiness and poop in the streets, rabid dogs everywhere, religious fatalism and narrow mindedness, and just the smallness of it. I don't think it's charming that everyone knows everyone else and their exact whereabouts every single day. I think it's annoying. I love city life and I loved my gargantuan university because I like anonymity. I like being surrounded by diverse people and having my choice of who to grow close to and spend time with.

But the nice thing about village life is that every time I have some problem, the people who can help me with it are right there, sometimes even unexpectedly.

Take yesterday. I returned from San Salvador with heavy boxes containing an air mattress and an electric fan, as preparation for the Peace Corps trainee who arrives at my site today to get a taste of volunteer life (the heat never bothered me enough to get a fan for myself, but other people complain about it when they visit...wusses.) The boxes were not an issue, as I was going to take the 4 p.m. bus up the hill to my site. That bus decided not to run yesterday and I had to hike the hill (NOTE: this always happens when I am sick or carrying something heavy.) So I'm struggling along when along comes Roberto, one of the leaders of the youth group, who offers to carry a box.

Saved! I was doubly lucky because Roberto (or Chobert, as his Salvadoran nickname goes) was one of the people I wanted to talk to about keeping my trainee entertained this weekend now that schools are closed. So I got my stuff lugged home AND we made plans to have a youth group cooking activity tomorrow. Score!

In other news, the woman in my village who always pesters me for money just quit her job for the 2nd time, because her boss got mad at her for running a personal errand that took all day when she should have been working. For someone who really needs the money, she sure does quit jobs for the wrong reasons. I have met a lot of fantastic, hardworking Salvadorans, and this woman does work hard bringing up her children and at her fomer job, but I have also met way too many who expect money for nothing. I wonder how this woman thinks she's going to get by without her job, and then I realize she'll start asking me for loans again. Which, by now, I feel no guilt in refusing. Stay tuned...

For the first time in my life, I am missing my family's summer week on the lake in New England. I'm not completely heartbroken about it, I was bound to miss out sometime, but it's still strange to think about. I'll miss next year too, and probably go through New England lake withdrawal, which will involve diving into the coldest water in El Salvador and trying to find Sam Adams (ha!) and some way to barbecue something. Anything.

Paz y amor.