It’s February 8 and I didn’t even notice the time has flown by so fast... my last January in El Salvador has passed.  And thank god because I hate the windy season!  Speaking of, the winds have mostly died down and the dry season is in full, scorching mode.

Do any of you know your Enneagram personality type?  I’m type 7, the Enthusiast.  It’s the idea that human beings have personalities that are manifestations of their insecurities.  Our defense mechanisms to hide who we really are, or what are “essence” is.  The idea of even knowing your type is so you can understand why you react to certain situations the way you do, then move beyond that to become a better and balanced person.  I’m obsessed with this science, which is typical for a type 7, the type most vulnerable to obsession and addiction.  Anyway, I highly encourage everyone to check out a book on it at your local library.  You can take an online test that last about 10 minutes at the Enneagram Institute.  Google it.  This test will point you in the right direction of which type you should read more about to see if it’s how you would rank yourself.  I have know about Enneagram since September and I feel like it has really been helpful for me to understand my psychological complications, but I feel good about finding more balance through it.

I’m busily planning “What’s Next” after my Peace Corps life.  A couple of years ago I found out about a scholarship through Rotary that will pay for my graduate school in Argentina, studying International Relations with a concentration on Peace and Conflict Resolution.  I’m in the process of applying right now and it’s a tough one.  I had to write a very detailed and complicated personal statement all about my life and successes.  It could only be three pages long and it had to cover about 800 different topics, in depth.  It was insane, but I finally finished it and now I’m just waiting to get all my recommendations, then translate the entire application to Spanish.  If I get it, which is a big fat IF since there are only 60 recipients worldwide each year, I will start studying in Buenos Aires in March 2012.  So, I have a whole down year after I’m done here in El Salvador in December.  Maybe I’ll go traveling to India, or get a government job for the benefits and good pay... we’ll see.  But if anyone has any exciting suggestions, I’m open to ideas.  And I wouldn’t mind exploring a city I’ve never lived in before, like DC or somewhere on the West Coast.

Softball is in tournament three and thriving.  Last tournament I left one team that was basically full of big fat A-holes, and formed a team of misfits.  Nobody expected us to do anything, and we were softball outcasts.  But, we pulled together and came in third place of eight teams in the league.  We would have had first, or second, but a technicality put us behind.  Anyway, the point is we kicked some softball butt when everyone counted us out from the start.  My same team has reunited for a new tournament and our chemistry together is clicking.  We had our first game yesterday and ended up winning by about 20 some runs.  We are amazing.  If anyone who reads this knows any females who can pitch fast pitch and wants to come to El Salvador to show off some mad skills, I would love to invite you here!  This tournament will last until mid-May.  Come, come come!

Some Canadians have invaded the San Isidro area of El Salvador.  It’s a group called Hope through Homes, and they come to El Salvador three times a year to build houses in a neighboring community called Las Lajas.  These people raise 100% of their own funds and take their vacation time from work to come down here and build houses for some of the world’s poorest people.  And they do it just because they want to help out a fellow human being.  I think what they are doing is incredible and I hope one day to be able to give back as much as they are.  So, anyway, I’ve been spending almost ALL of my time translating for them because their usual translator is not in El Salvador.  It’s a great opportunity to test my Spanish skills, and I must say, I’m quite happy with my progress.  In the past few weeks, several people have asked me where I learned because they say my accent is so good.   I’m totally bragging and boasting about this because I spent two years hearing people tell me I have the worst Spanish possible (which is untrue, but it still hurt). 

Anyway, translating is a pretty tricky business!  One is not only repeating words in a different language, but one is an integral part in building trust between the two parties.  A complete stranger although the translator may be, is thrown into the middle of a perfectly solid relationship and asked to process and share intimate moments.  It can get uncomfortable, but the translator must remain neutral and not start cracking up, like I sometimes do.  Also, a translator has to act as a cultural buffer many times.  Not only must one comprehend the two languages, one must be entirely aware of the cultural nuances of both parties.  A good translator will take mercy on an offending client by translating his or her savage words and convert them to cultural acceptability, all while explaining sour faces and insolent gestures in a diplomatic manner.  The job of a translator deserves the high pay it receives because at the end of the day when the brain no longer functions in any discernible language to process thoughts and emotions, the translator must wake up the next day and do it all again.

Oh, I’ve been meaning to update my photos for some time now, but I have been having problems with my website.  It will not accept new photos.  I don’t know what the issue is, but when I resolve it, photos will be updated.  I have some good ones to share too!

I think that’s it for now.  It’s been real, take care,

Zacarías

Be first to comment this article | Add as favourites (28) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 210

I had the most restless, unproductive, and cataclysmic day/night yesterday.  I barely slept because of the obscene quantities of adrenaline pulsing through my veins.  Let me tell you about my day.

My day began in the city hall of Izalco, the official town where I live on the outskirts in a smaller community called San Isidro.  Just confirming the details here.  I am currently working with the city hall on a project to restore a 154-year-old mansion, once owned by coffee farmers, to its original glory.  To ramble a bit, the project’s main objective is to restore the indigenous cultural traditions of Izalco, ironically enough, in the house where the exploitation and downfall of the indigenous people was possibly plotted.  THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN the whole damn Earth started to gyrate!  The earthquake, because yes, that is how it is technically defined because it measured 6.0 on the Richter scale, started somewhat aggressively, then slowly calmed, before climaxing with a shake, rattle, and roll stronger than it had begun.

My heart started pumping, and the palpitations grew in strength when the kids at the school across the street began screaming in unison.  In total it couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds but I was shaken for the day.  Subsequent tremors passed throughout the day, but I didn’t even notice probably because I was shaking regardless.  It was an unforgettable 30 seconds and an incredible force to be experienced.  Luckily, no one was hurt and no devastating damage occurred.

The rest of the day I went about my business thinking every bump or breeze was an earthquake.  I was paranoid, without even knowing how badly.  That night I tried to sleep and couldn’t.  Maybe it was from the 10:30pm coffee I had, but I think I’m well beyond that after more than 2 years, but I tossed and turned all night.  I had to get up early the next morning too, so I think that stressed me out and kept me from sweet dreams.  However, at 4:39am I gained consciousness again but in the darkness of my windowless room I was not sure what was happening.  A noise that I cannot even begin to explain consumed my aural range and I started to consider the possibilities.  Was it rain? No.  Was it the norte?  No.  Was it an alien invasion?  Maybe?  I was too scared to even go outside and investigate, but I had to do it.  I walked outside and saw nothing but a clear nighttime sky.  However, the noise was even louder.  What was happening??

At this point I became delusional.  I seriously thought I might be hallucinating or dreaming.  I don’t even know how to explain the bizarreness I was feeling.  Then I decided to be braver and took a step off my porch to go look around my house where I could hear a pack of dogs barking.  Holy cow... the sky was ablaze with flames higher than skyscrapers and smoke signals only giants could make.  I immediately thought, “The earthquake triggered one of the volcanoes to erupt!”  Now, anyone who knows me and how I am in the first few moments of waking up knows that I function much lower than a retarded gorilla.  I’m not even human.  So I began to panic and my heart was racing while my brain was searching for an explanation.  Then it hit me, before I could even start my marathon to outrun the pyroclastic flow, that I live in a house surrounded by sugar cane fields and it was harvest time.  To harvest the cane, the field is completely burnt to get rid of all the organic waste, and to scare out dangerous animals like scorpions, snakes, etc.  They burn the fields at night, to scare unaccustomed gringos, and so that the fields are ready for harvest by early morning so workers can whistle and do their thing.  I had no idea nor had I ever imagined that a forest fire, which it basically was, made such a tremendous and frightening noise.  If you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing one, well, I invite you here, but you must youtube it and watch it on surround sound.  It is awful.

Also, I need to backtrack a bit.  I forgot to tell everyone what I did for New Year’s Eve.  I was invited to dinner by my friends Lupe and Chobe, with their family.  Janet and I went where we taught everyone to bob for apples.  In El Salvador, everyone has grapes and apples, exotic and expensive imported fruits here, so we decided to put them to use and show people how to get their heads all wet.  It was a ton of fun.  My little host sister, Karen, was the grand winner by jawing an apple in a record-setting two seconds.  I can’t say I have seen many people bobbing for apples, but I will probably never see it done quite like that again.

Then, at midnight, the whole town goes crazy.  Fireworks are literally shot off from every rooftop and institution.  You can barely walk through the streets, which you have to do, because every three-year-old child is firing off bottle rockets and roman candles.  It’s terrifying.  So, then my favorite part begins.  Everyone goes walking through the streets to find all their friends and family to give them a New Year’s hug!  I love the tradition.  As you walk through the streets all the strangers you’ve never had the courage to speak with run up and hug you while wishing you all the best for the upcoming year.  It’s a great gesture of community and friendship and I literally spent several hours walking around, visiting, and hugging all my favorite people in San Isidro.  I might just stay for 2011 because I really did enjoy the event.  There was also another dance, like they do for Christmas, that I did not go to this year, but everyone else in the community, and literally their mothers, did go.  I’ll have to try and make it at the end of this year.  We’ll see.

Alright, that’s all for now.  Hope everyone is healthy and enjoying life.  It’s the most you could ask for.  Take care, talk soon,

Zacarías

Comments (11) | Add as favourites (29) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 1644

I’m writing this blog from inside my house because I cannot, nor do I desire, go outside because of a phenomenon called El Norte (The North).  January is my least favorite month in any country in the world.  It’s ugly everywhere.  But, to top it all off in the very dry and brown rainless El Salvador, January brings a fun friend called El Norte or just very strong winds.  That’s right, there is a windy season in El Salvador.  The wind blows day and night at 40mph minimum.  Roofs sound like they’re being ripped off and beds, while you’re sleeping in them, fill with dust and sugar cane feathers.  Two years ago (which I can say now!) there was a windstorm that destroyed my community.  It hasn’t been as awful since, but I HATE THE NORTE!!!!!!

A lot has transpired since my last blog and since being back in El Sal.  I have to admit, transitioning into being a third year volunteer is just as rough as being a volunteer for the first time.  I’m having a heck of a time centering myself and mentally prepping myself for the year to come.  I’m strong and adaptable, but since college I have never kept ONE commitment for so long.  In fact, I did the math, and I will have been in Peace Corps for more months than I was actually in college.  Crazy. 

Christmas time in El Sal is so much fun.  First of all, I love that it is warm.  Well, compared to Ohio I guess.  The Norte, that bitch, has brought freezing cold temperatures with it.  It got down to about 45ºF one night, which was shocking.  It even rained for almost two whole days Christmas weekend, which NEVER EVER happens in the dry season.  Global warming is mystifying. 

I love the Christmas spirit and traditions in El Salvador.  Everyone is so happy and decorates their houses, much like in America minus the snow.  A big tradition in my town is for everyone to buy brand new clothes and go cruising on the 24^th, when Christmas is actually celebrated.  I think it’s hilarious and I definitely did it this year.  You seriously just walk up and down the main street having everyone look at you while you judge them.  I didn’t have new shoes which I’m sure everyone was critical of. 

Another tradition is the Posada (Inn).  This is where the Catholic community, because let’s face it, all the evangelicals are super boring and loud, re-enacts Mary and Joseph looking for room in an inn everyday in December until Christmas Eve.  At night, they all march from the previous house to the next house singing and they have kids dressed as Mary and Joseph.  When they arrive on the house, the hosts close the doors on them and everyone sings a call and response song asking for room in the inn, then they’re denied, and finally they’re let in.  The priest then talks for a really long time while everyone ignores him and texts messages or gossips with neighbors, then the hosts give everyone sweet bread and coffee and hot chocolate.  I think this tradition is so much fun and it’s a great way to get free food and see everyone’s house if they’ve never invited you over before.

On Christmas Eve, everyone goes to the church after the last Posada and watches all the kids in the church perform a Christmas pageant.  The highlight this year was the Hollywood microphone, which you can see in my photos.  Then there is a mass at midnight, then a giant dance.  This year I missed mass because one of my favorite families in San Isidro, Omar and his mom Reyna, held me prisoner in their house while forcing me to eat giant hot dog buns filled with chicken, coleslaw, tomatoes, cucumbers, and mayonnaise.  By the time I got away from them mass was over and I had no energy for the dance.  So, I went home and played uno with buddies and some couch surfers that were visiting.

I get couch surfers often.  Couch surfing is an internet site that connects travelers who can offer up their homes as a free place to stay to other travelers and create a network of people in the world.  It’s pretty cool and I’ve never had a bad experience on it.  I’ve had maybe 12 different surfers.  Well, two of my favorites just left, Judith from Hungary and Gregor from Germany.  They were coming for a day and stayed a week, which is common.  They were great fun and got along perfectly with my community.  They taught me how to play uno at a whole new competitive level, which I have transferred to various people in my community.  We’re uno crazy.

A bunch of my students that I try to mentor are applying for scholarships to go and study in Venezuela.  The organization that is sponsoring them invited them all, and me, to Lago de Coatepeque after Christmas.  This is a giant volcano crater lake and it is gorgeous.  I went to a private area on the lake where we swam and just chilled.  We played a bunch of uno because the couch surfers went and we taught all the scholarship kids how to do it.  The punishment for losing was being thrown in the lake by everyone else, as you’ll see in my videos.  But wow, Lago de Coatepeque is such a meditative place to go and relax.  I love it and think I will be spending a lot of time there this year.

Also, with these couch surfers, my friends Josué and Ketchup, along with me, all decided to hitchhike to the complete other side of the country.  We went to a beautiful lake out there called Laguna de Olomega.  We ended up camping out in the middle of the lake on a deserted island.  It was great until I woke up at 3:30am covered in cockroaches.  I actually had the thought, “Wow, they’re just roaches, go back to bed.”  We had to clean out the entire tent then try to get some more sleep.  We ended up hitchhiking all the way back to San Isidro in a semi-truck that took us the entire way, and I slept on the bed there to catch up on what the roaches stole from me.  I think the cockroaches invading my body while sleeping might be the most repulsive thing that has happened to me in El Salvador.  Yuck.

My friend Janet came back from her 30 days in the States and is now living in San Isidro.  Her coming back is so nice because it’s an indication that all the lazing around during the holidays is now over.  It’s time to work.  We have several specific projects we aim to do this year and we’re going at them full force.  It’s going to be nice to get a schedule back up and running.

Also, if it weren’t for Janet I may have been back in the States already.  I seriously almost turned around and came back home because of so much emotional build-up in San Isidro.  I was just sick of the wind, cold water, moochy people, ungrateful people, and all kinds of crap and I woke up on January 5 having it all hit me at once.  I was frantic!!  We went to the capital to visit an old Peace Corps friend who was in town, and to escape.  Escaping is something I haven’t done in a long time, but dang, it was nice and necessary.  Anyways, I collect myself, found the bearings, and now I’m moving forward.

On Thursday I did something for the first time which I should have done a long time ago.  I went coffee picking!  Wow, let me tell you, it’s fun doing it, but it is not worth it.  So, you get up early in the morning, hike out to a coffee plantation, then a manager gives you a row of trees and you pass by each one picking off all the berries.  It sounds simple enough until you get to the rows that are on sides of mountains.  I fell down one completely from the top to the bottom, and thank god, but none of my coffee fell out of the basket.  All the leaves and dust in the coffee fields get inside your clothing and it itches.  There are snakes, wasps, scorpions, and all kinds of fatal insects abound among the trees.  You have to take all your food and water with you.  Also, all the coffee you pick has to be carried with you all day.  Oh, and they only pay $0.90 for every 25 pounds you pick.  That particular day Janet and I were picking with my ex-neighbors.  I adore them so much.  This year’s harvest is crap.  Between the four of us we only managed to pick 105 pounds in an entire day.  So, that is $3.60 in their pockets.  $3.60 in one day’s work.  That is terrible, even in El Salvador.  I don’t even know why people bother trying to support their families this way.  And I kept thinking the entire time I was picking, “No wonder people join gangs and rob busses.”  Who would want to spend an entire day to earn enough to buy a coke and some chips, but not pay the bills, when you could rob a bus or people and get 10 times that amount, in a matter of minutes?  It’s a tough reality.

On the positive side, it was a lot of fun.  I was out in the coffee fields with many of my community members.  We were all joking and talking and just having a good time while working.  It was a nice community effort.  Everyone loved when I fell down the mountain because I landed on a spine branch of a plant called Hot Bread in Spanish.  The leaves got all over my hand and burned my skin and made me swell up.  It hurts.  But, everyone being so prepared, a few women came over and dumped alcohol on me, and the pain went away, although, lacerations stayed on my hands where the leaves burned me.  I saw a giant snake that was killed with a machete.  It was right next to my neighbors’ mother when a man spotted it and killed it.  It was huge and vicious looking.  But all in all, it was a fun day.  Oh, and after picking everyone has to sit and separate all the green beans from the reds, yellows, and oranges.  It is not easy work people.  Next time you suck down your Starbucks, just remember where that came from and how hard the people worked to get it there.  That’s what I do now, for sure.

On Sunday, the 3^rd, my host sister Luz de Maria, or Lucy, had her quinciñera.  That is the 15^th birthday party that Latin girls celebrate to show the community that they are now women.  The party has a lot of tradition involved and is pretty intense, but in a good way.  For Lucy’s 15^th, the family had a private mass at the church then a huge party at their house.  They somehow fit more than 150 guests in their house and served them all a declivous steak dinner.  The coolest part of the event for me was the fact that Lucy and her family asked me to be the Chambelan.  That means I was chosen to dance the waltz with Lucy upon entering the party.  I had to learn the waltz, and with Lucy, we made up a bunch of our own moves that wowed the crowd.  It was a ton of fun and I’m glad I was able to be part of Lucy’s very special day.  I have videos and photos of it all to check out.

So I think for now that’s the most up-to-date version of what’s been going on for me in El Sal.  Other than way too many emotional freakouts, everything is fine.  I’m here and I know why I’m here and I know how long I’m here.  I really do love El Salvador and the people I know here.  I’m making it through the days, trying to enjoy every single moment, and trying to make sense of the negatives.  I didn’t realize the challenge it would be to stay for a third year, but I am glad I’m here.

Be first to comment this article | Add as favourites (37) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 239

This blog is the two little bits I wrote while at home, then immediately back in El Salvador.

I’m home from El Salvador right now, and apart from freezing, I don’t really know how to simply explain how I feel.  When I walked off the plane I was actually shaking with anticipation of seeing my family and friends.  I saw them, and they’re awesome, and then life was normal again.  With the snap of my thumb and index finger, because I can’t do it with the middle, everything was life again.  Poof.  El Salvador was a distant memory.

I woke up the next day thinking and seriously considering that the fact that I had been in El Salvador the past 2 years and 2 months could have been a dream.  All that time was compressed so tightly into a shrug of the shoulders.  Yea, I was in El Salvador.

I feel odd in America.  When I walk into someone’s house or get in their car I want to say, “Con permiso,” or, “With permission.”  Whenever I see anyone eating I feel the urge to tell them, “Buen provecho,” or “Bon appétite,” as we say in English.  No one does that here.  America feels insensitive to me in that sense.  No one even screams “Good monring” or whatever time of a day it might be.  I was even with a friend, who ran into another friend, who proceeded to pretend I wasn’t even next to our mutual friend and ignored me.  I mean, I know you don’t know me, but geez Louise.

As I move more days away from El Salvador I start to second-guess my return.  I love it when I’m there and I can’t get enough of the wonderful people in my community there, but do I want to go purposefully go live there again? 

I’m in limbo right now.

I’m back in El Salvador now and the humid breeze began to melt a smile onto my face as soon as I stepped off the plane.  I saw the sun for the first time in a month!  My host family came to pick me up, which was amazing to see them in a sea of Salvi faces awaiting long-lost relatives.  A gringo emerged, with four gigantic suitcases, packed to the brim and began babbling in Spanish to the amusement of everyone behind the yellow line.  We hugged each other, and I felt my host family recoil against my sweaty touch, but they were only reacting to the sweat they hadn’t seen on me for months because I had adapted before leaving.  It was good to be back.

A few days have passed since getting back to El Sal and although I’m glad to be here, I must say that the transition has been hard on me.  I’m in a new house, my fourth in El Salvador, and it’s infested with bats, and only has running water once every eight days.  It’s a far cry from my previous “primitive” conditions.  I hate stressing about something as basic as water, but it’s a reality.

The heat is killing me too.  I came from the freezer of Ohio to the oven of San Isidro and my body is confused.  At night’s here I feel cold also because of the drastic temperature change.  And it’s the dusty, dry season right now.  I was so excited to wear flip-flops again, but now my feet are filthy constantly.  Which normally I wouldn’t mind, when I had water everyday.  And not to mention, my house appears as if a bomb full of dirt and bat poop exploded everywhere, including inside the deepest pages of all my mold-covered books.

Oh complaints.  I’m here for a year and I’m hoping to make it productive and I’m looking forward to staying motivated, however hard that will be.

Coming back was a pain at the airport.  Apparently, Continental airlines has an embargo against Mexico and El Salvador, meaning, people flying to either one of these countries are strictly limited to two bags of 50lbs maximum.  Even if you want to pay extra for a third bag, or for a few pounds over the weight limit you cannot because so many people are traveling to those places these times of year and everyone wants to bring way too much stuff, kind of like I was doing.  So, in short, I was on the brink of tears on the airport floor with two of my suitcases exploded everywhere deciding what to leave and what to take.  The gingerbread house and photos were axed.  My family was there supporting me through this all and I was grouchy to them, which makes me feel awful, but hopefully they know it was the stress and I apologize. 

Anyway, I think I got something like 180lbs back to El Sal, although 81lbs of that was in the form of my two very stuffed carry-ons.  It’s time to pass out presents to everyone in El Sal and that is going to be fun, so it was worth the efforts.

It only took me 3.5 days to get full-on diarrhea again.  When I went back to The States I literally felt all the parasites and evil bacteria dying inside my gut and each time one died gasses were released and my stomach bloated even more.  It took about four days, and lots of people’s cars being fumigated for me to feel digestively normal again.  But, now in El Salvador the same thing happened but in reverse.  I felt the parasites latching onto my intestinal walls, claiming their year-long spot to creating a gastro-intestinal nightmare for me.  And boom, the diarrhea is back.  It’s not like I’m not used to it though.

It’s so funny being back in the brutal honesty of El Salvador.  Every single person I have spoken to since being back, and that is in the hundreds, has said the same thing to me upon seeing me.  “Zacarías, you are soooo fat!”  I guess they noticed I gained 15lbs back home.  It’s funny, because I told my sister that and she said, “That’s so crazy because you hardly even ate while you were home!”  Which is true, but I did drink about 20 gallons of chocolate milk while home.  Oh, and I didn’t exercise once, and I never walked anywhere.  And sweat.  Didn’t happen at home.  Those are all the keys to my Salvi diet, plus lots and lots of purging (aka diarrhea).  Oprah, if you’re looking for a new diet, call me.

Come visit folks.  I’m in Central America.  it’s beautiful, sunny, and ALWAYS warm.  Ask yourself this, “Why do I live in an latitude outside of either of the tropics?”  Get on a plane now!

Comments (11) | Add as favourites (25) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 1364