Bank of Alia

Yesterday, I was working away in my house, planning a party for my Saturday English students who are "graduating" next week (woohoo free Saturdays!) when a woman from my community came by who is my semi-friend. I say "semi" because she is sweet enough but cannot stop asking me for money, directly or indirectly. I have lent her a dollar here, five dollars there, and she has always paid me back, but this time I was blown right out of the water.

"My (alcoholic) husband isn't working right now and we have to plant corn this week," she said. "Can I borrow $30 for fertilizer?"

30 dollars?! That's a lot of money in the States, never mind here, and my Peace Corps salary would make you all laugh. And it might be all right, since I know she would, slowly, pay me back, but this has already gone far enough. Next she'll be asking me for $50. She has already asked me for the shoes off my feet and the food in my house.

I don't mean to sound insensitive to poor people, really I don't. But although things are hard for this woman, she is not starving. She and her family have got by for years before there was a gringa in the community. And I can't turn my head and give them more money while the husband lies around and drinks away what the wife earns. At some point this woman has to fix the root of the problem.

She's not the only person who has come by asking me for things either. A lot of the time it's people I barely know and who, I have learned from experience, will not pay me back. I can't have word getting around that I just hand out money to anyone who wants it. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we're here to combat the handout mentality in favor of capacity-building, which is something I strongly believe in personally as well. It might not help the poor villagers in the extremely short-term, but they will have a strong economic foundation for the future if they focus on learning new skills and using them to get jobs or make money. And I'm here to teach some of those skills (English, computers) and help the community do projects for their collective economic benefit, but I myself am not a microfinance enterprise.

So I'm going to go back to the village today and tell this woman that I can't lend her any more than $10, and she will still have to pay me back. Insensitive bitch that I am.

Paz y amor.

Happy Mother's Day?

It is time for my school to celebrate Mother's Day!

12 days after the fact...

That's right, the principal didn't have the time or inclination to plan an event that would actually coincide with the holiday, so we are planning one now for almost two weeks later. I guess this doesn't seem weird to anyone else. But to me, it's like forgetting about, say, Halloween and then trick or treating on November 12, to the confusion of your neighbors who by now have no more candy. At some point you have to recognize that a holiday has passed you by.

Of course, I was dragged into the preparations at the last minute. It always happens that way. One minute I'm on the porch talking to my host family, the next minute my school director comes by and drags me into a "secret, important meeting" that is starting that very minute. So here I am at the cybercafe looking up poems and images to put on the invitations that we are giving to all the mothers, which I have been put in charge of as the only computer literate teacher. Apparently these mothers will come to school in the morning May 22 for snacks, raffles, dances and a poem.

The poem is to be recited by me following a confusing exchange with the principal.

PRINCIPAL: Maybe your mother can write a poem for us.
ME: My mom? Why?
PRINCIPAL: Is she going to come? Can she write a poem?
ME: No, she won't be coming...wait, are you saying you want ME to write a poem, or my mom?
PRINCIPAL: Oh, I just remembered. Your mom isn't a writer. The last volunteer had writer mom...
ME: Well, I'm a writer! I write the news! But maybe I could just look up a poem on the Internet...

So not only do I get compared to or mistaken for the previous volunteer pretty much daily, now her mother has become my mother.

Anyway, thank God for the Net. I found a lovely Spanish poem written by an actual poet, and that will be read to my school's mothers on May 22. Twelve days late.

Here are some of my host family at the beach a couple of weeks ago:
During training we hiked through a cloud forest to a view of Lago Coatepeque, a famous crater lake. There was fog EVERYWHERE and my camera died soon after this unremarkable shot...
Paz y amor.

English and preoccupations

The English language is taking over my life. I am still supposed to be teaching it every day, but I am begging off yet again four days this week because of other compromisos, or other things I had already agreed to do. I feel only slightly bad about this -- after all, I never did agree to help out with English class every day. That is what my principal initially wanted, but I only agreed to come "as often as I could." Which is turning out to be not very often at all...

Ironically enough, Thursday is one of the days I am skipping out, to go help others with the English language. I am translating for Habitat for Humanity that day and I'm super excited.

Today I got on the computer and found out that one of my favorite editors and mentors left The Baltimore Sun for public relations. This guy used to basically run the show at The Sun and is the last person I expected to leave. Which, coupled with some recent conversations with Peace Corps friends, has me thinking a lot about the future.

I knew when I left for the Peace Corps that I was doing the right thing, as there are no job opportunities in journalism, the field I studied for four years. But I hoped things would improve by the time I came back. Now that doesn't look likely and I am directionless once more.

My friend Sara wrote this article for the Wall Street Journal describing the screwed-over plight of recent grads like me. And my friend Erin wrote a blog post that eerily describes my exact sentiments. Except for one: while I certainly want to continue traveling, I'm too panicked about financial security to hare off again as soon as I get out of the Peace Corps. I'm much more likely to go back to the States and nail down a steady job first, if I can, or -- dun dun dunnn -- go back to school?

Last Sunday I went to the beach with my youth group and some members of the community, and then I spent a week in training with the other ag/environmental volunteers. Pictures to come the next time I score a cooperative computer.

Paz y amor.

I bless the rains

Rainy season has begun and God, I love it. The weather has suddenly become infinitely more pleasant, and I love the sound of driving rain on my corrugated tin roof (and sometimes I like the excuse not to go anywhere). It's true -- if it's raining, or the Salvies think it's going to rain, they'll stay home and refuse to show up to meetings or anything. I remember that from training but it has yet to affect my work here.

Yesterday was Labor Day here, as in the rest of the world except the United States, of course. It's funny, El Salvador has a ton of traditions that they constantly observe but can give no reasons for. For example, yesterday a bunch of kids dressed up in weird costumes, as old people, devils or sad clowns, and danced in front of the church. When I asked why they did that, people just shrugged and said, "It's tradition." Nor did they know the story behind May 1 and why it's international Labor Day -- Haymarket Square and all that. I had to explain the history to my host family, who were wondering why so many people demonstrate in San Sal every May 1.

Swine flu is dominating the news here too -- I don't have a TV but I listen to a lot of radio reports about "gripe porcina" (pork cold?) although there are no cases reported in El Salvador as yet. Peace Corps is inundating us with emails about it, though.

Here are some shots from yesterday:
The drummers tapping out the beatI never figured out which of the village boys were in these costumes...That one in the corn sack was the agressor and kept fighting people.

Paz y amor.

Security incident!

Yep, I had my first (and hopefully only) one. Last Friday, I was working at the plastic table in the main room of my house, which I put under a window for the sunlight. Sitting next to me on the table was my wallet, which I had just used to buy something from the store across the street.

Suddenly, some of the youth group paid a visit, and I ran out to entertain and make posters with them on my porch, leaving the window open. I didn't think twice because I was still in sight range and I didn't realize my wallet was still on the table...

Meanwhile, it was getting dark, and the usual loafing and drunk teenagers and men began showing up to hang out outside my house (which is right in the center of town and therefore a popular hangout spot.) The youth group and I, distracted by our posters, didn't notice when one of them reached through my window and took the wallet...

A half hour later, I came back inside, closed up the house and started to make dinner. I went to bed that night not knowing my wallet was gone. At about 10:30 the next morning, some kids from my English class found it lying outside next to the window. All the money inside it -- $40, which is a good deal here -- was gone, but thank God the bank cards were still inside. You can't really use plastic anywhere in my rural site, so the thief probably didn't even care for them.

Although I got off lucky, and leaving things on that table by the open window is stupid and will never be repeated, the whole thing did make me upset and disappointed. Peace Corps volunteers give up a lot to move to places where life is hard and our only goal is to improve the communities we live in. And my robber would have had to be someone from the community. Talk about not feeling welcome, even after 6 months.

Granted, a lot of other community members have been very sympathetic, as have the Peace Corps people I had to report this to. The security officer came out to visit my house and make sure everything was OK, the nurse called to make sure I hadn't been hurt physically or too scarred emotionally, and the director of all Peace Corps El Salvador even called to chat about it. It felt a bit like overkill for a $40 robbery in which no one was harmed and which does not impede my safety in the long run, but it's nice to know these things are taken seriously.

The day I found out I was robbed was not a good day overall, I have to admit. We were supposed to have the first meeting of the community development organization that my counterpart and I have been devoting our energies to over the past month, and only 2 people showed up. People in the community have been shaking their heads sadly at me as I try to organize, informing me that the community just doesn't like to work or make commitments. It's one thing to try and fail because of all the hardships in your life, but it's another thing entirely to just say "No," flat-out. If the community isn't going to work with me, how can they expect me to help them?

English and environmental classes, thank God, are my bright spots. I have a captive audience of kids who are happy and tell me I'm awesome as long as we play lots of games in class. Our school nursery project, however, is failing because no parents have volunteered to donate land and materials...

The youth group is also good right now. We organized a beach trip for Sunday. Maybe I'll just say, "Screw you, old people" and spend two years working with kids and youth.

Here are some pictures of the school Earth Day celebration, where we decorated the community center with environmental drawings and played environmental games...
The principal started it off by rambling a lotDecorandoNiña Roxana's awesome craft thing and my less awesome poster

Paz y amor.

Hot Hot Heat

It is really hot in El Salvador. I don't have a thermometer and of course no one uses Fahrenheit here, so I never know the temperature, but weather.com is claiming 102 degrees where I am. And of course I am walking around in jeans, shorts being taboo here. Luckily, the rainy season is coming next month and then hopefully things will cool down. But for now, I am battling another bladder infection born of dehydration, derailing my plans to do any work today.

I actually got sick at my friend's site, which is way hotter than mine, and all the wine we drank probably didn't help matters. I started heading back to my house yesterday, couldn't stand it and got off the bus half an hour later in the big city of San Miguel, where I spent the day in the hospital and the night in a hotel. Thank God for antibiotics, because I feel much better now and am posting this from another city on my way home today.

I have had some disease every single month since I got to site. After each one, I learn a little more about how to take care of my health and decide I won't get sick again for the next year and a half. This time I hope it's true, as the hot season is almost over. Even though I chug water, it's hard to avoid getting dehydrated when we can't drink any of the running water here. So if I only get sick again next March and April, I will consider my service a success.

But now I have to hustle back to my site and do a ton of work. The week after next will be hectic, with Earth Day, a big meeting to plan our school's vivero, or orange and pineapple nursery, and the first meeting of our community development organization. My daily English classes have started again as well. It would have been easier if I could have gotten some work done during Semana Santa, but even the people who stayed in the village refused to do any work during "vacation week." So now I have to try to recover while running around in the 102-degree sun.

My birthday was fun anyway (see wine reference above.) Will came and we watched a ton of DVDs and picked a ton of oranges to take to my friend Megan's site the next day. At her place, we were treated to chocolate banana bread and lemon cookies (yum!) as well as real food like pasta and pierogies. Although it's conveniently close to a big city, which is something I always wanted, Megan's site is super hot and dusty and literally made me ill, which made me appreciate the site I have even more.

I have hit a milestone. I used to get sick and want to go home to the States. Now I get sick and want to go home to Canton San Jose Carrizal, Santa Maria Ostuma, La Paz, El Salvador.

Paz y amor.

Semana Santa

Well folks, it's my favorite time of year in every Hispanic Catholic country. Semana Santa, or Holy Week.

Easter in the States was always a fun time, especially because half the time it fell on my birthday. There was the candy, the easter egg hunts, the complete absence of any religious obligation...

Not so this year. I am about to attend a two hour Mass today and might be talked into more religious events all morning and night tomorrow. Saturday, not Sunday, is Easter here, and they celebrate with a 5 hour church vigil lasting until midnight. This I am trying my damnedest to get out of, as it is my birthday, my boyfriend is coming that day and we are getting up at roughly 5 am the next day to go on a trip.

From what I can tell, the next few days will offer an endless supply of Masses and processions. I hope they're not like the ones in Spain, where everyone dressed up just like the KKK and marched slowly to mournful music. Creepy as hell.

Some of this I don't actually mind going to, as I have nothing else to do. No one is working this week and my Saturday class has been cancelled, so I am getting no work done either.

Pictures to come of the holy madness. Paz y amor.