But, I´m Licenciada...

Yesterday stunk. It was ¨Friday,¨ it was uncommonly hot, I was uncommonly cynical, and we had a lot of stuff to get done.

After I spent hours messing up the preterite form during spanish class, I went with my COED pals into San Vicente for a DCA session which was also pretty rough. When it was over, I was so excited to just get back home to Istepeque.

The hottest part of our day is getting on the 4:45 bus. The lowering sun hits the windows just right to heat the vinyl seat covers to a scorching temperature. Everyone in the bus is sweaty, and every seat is full. Yesterday we were just in time to catch the bus, we packed in though the big back door, being literally pushed in the door by the cobrador. There was literally no space, it was a sweaty situation. Someone took my bag for me though, and I found space on the handrail to grab on.

Then I realized, I got caught in a Dan sandwich, or as it was so perfectly stated, a ¨Danny Sanny.¨ The ¨two Daniels¨of the group happen to also be the two most sweaty men in El Salvador, and there I was, stuck between them as their sweating kicked into high gear, being soaked by sweat that was not mine. I was laughing so hard my muscles were failing me, but as ¨the other Daniel¨mentioned, we were crammed in so close that even if I couldn´t hold on to the rail, and my legs buckled below me, I would stay in the upright position.

Later that evening I started the process of making ice for the soda we would be selling at our social service project. In general, everything in El Salvador comes in a plastic bag, and soda is no different. To make the ice, then, I decided to just put just enough water in each of the plastic bags, toss it in the freezer, and then when we sold a soda, we could just pour it into the same bag. Soda, Ice. Simple.

I started my little, simple project. My host mom noticed what I was doing, and it became much less simple. Wanting to help, she was filling the bags all the way up. I explained my strategy. She kept looking at me like I was insane. ¨These are not the right bags,¨ she kept saying... ¨This isn´t right, there is too much.¨

¨Too much what?¨ I asked. ¨Too much ice? Too many bags? I don´t see any problem.¨

Eventually it turned into a 5 minute conversation over how to make ice, how to best sell soda,
how the bags I bought were wrong, and how no one will understand what is going on.

I was surprised to find myself getting frustrated. About ice.

¨We are not accustomed to such large bags,¨she said.

¨We´re not filling them all the way,¨ I said.

¨You don´t understand,¨ she said.

And I didn´t. I finished making my bags, put them into the freezer, and feeling totally stupid, and doubting if maybe, in fact, I had any idea how to make ice after all, visited Daniel H to vent and chill out.

He was sitting in his backyard eating, so I said hello to his mother and sat down. She came out and said something with her mouth full, I asked her to repeat herself. Mistake.

She went on for a minute about how I don´t know Spanish. I don´t understand anything, and I can´t speak any Spanish, either. Snap.

Despite my responding that I did, infact, understand everything she was saying, and Daniel explaining the same, she was pretty sure I´m totally hopeless.

So I was feeling pretty low about my life in El Salvador by the time I got home.

This morning I slept in till 7:30 and got some chores done before it got too hot. Productive, successful.

My host mom called me from my room. ¨Come look at your ice,¨ she said. It was still water. ¨The power is out,¨she said. ¨But, my ice - the ice in these little bags - it´s still frozen.¨

I successfully completed a University education but in El Salvador I can´t make ice. In that moment I knew exactly what I wanted to say in English, but when presented with a freezer full of water, all I could muster in Spanish was ¨pues.....¨