Saturday, May 15, 2010
Interesting COEDesque Ted talk
A Ted.com lecture about aid, and how funds can be used in sustainable, long-term programs involving recipients in the development, design and implementation processes.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Ah, Memories...
The background
Yesterday morning I woke up with that "uh-oh" feeling behind my eyes. Headache, body pain, feverish feeling. Tylenol. Better.
This morning, I work up at quarter to five to get ready for an event in the soccer field in my community. My ADESCO and I had plans to do a raffle. I traipsed around in the sun for several hours selling numbers for a fan. By the time I was done, I felt like shit. Oh, and I had a rash covering my whole body.
Now I am in San Salvador for what seems to be Dengue. It's really unpleasant.
Anyway. There are perks to being out sick. I have wireless internet, cable, air conditioning, and a pretty comfy bed... Let me get to the point.
With the access to wireless (and with it Skype, Facebook, e-mail) and cable that streams in US culture, it is almost like I am not in El Salvador anymore.
But the problem is that catching up with people back home, which I love to do, makes me nostalgic. When I get nostalgic...
I wonder what I would be doing now if I hadn't left Ashland in December and then Albany in February. I'm currently living in a permasummer, but in Oregon right now, the seasons are hesitantly pushing the mercury up the scale.
If I were still in Ashland, I would likely be on Allison Street. A place that I loved, a lot, despite the leaky fridge, the leaky shower and the leaky windows. I would probably still be dating around, and going out with Kelsey to The Creek, Alex's and Caldera. We would likely be having a really good time. But most of my other, old Ashland friends have flown the coop and I would be lacking them just like I do from El Salvador.
If, for some reason, I was in Albany still, I would have been around for the last events in my family's history. I wouldn't have missed the service for my grandfather, I would have been with my family. I would probably still have my car, all the stuff I sold, and I would have a need for my wool pea coats that I love so much.
But, as I was told by two wandering New Zealanders (or were they Australian?) while drinking big bottles of Corona on the beaches of Zihuatanejo, Mexico, in 2008, you need to see the world while you're young, your own country you can explore when your closer to settling down. As much as I love my own friends and family, I feel like I am creating a bigger network, and now I have friends and family here in El Salvador.
As I looked at the gnarly red rash that spans my body from my neck to my ankles, shaking my fist and cursing the day I moved to what feels like the hottest, most mosquito ridden place on earth, my phone rang. My friend, who is also my postman, called to check on me.
"Where are you, Yessi?"
--San Salvador.
"You don't plan on coming back tonight, right? It probably wouldn't be safe..."
--No, I should be back tomorrow, in the early afternoon.
"Ok, I just called because everyone was all worried... have a good night, take care of yourself."
And then I remember that I have friends and family here too, and when I leave, I'll very likely be missing El Cocalito and all of them just as I miss Oregon and everything I have back home.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Las Salvadoreñas
Over the last month and a half that I have been in site, I feel like I have made some really great friends. Despite all the complaining I may do about the more annoying cultural exchanges I come across (little kids screaming Niña griiinnggaaa at my in the street, the trash everywhere, that stupid Destinas song all the kids sing over and over, and the millions of times my family shout ¨¡Yessy!!¨for no reason every day) I really enjoy myself most of the time and about 99 percent of all the people with whom I spend that time.
Anyway. I was spending time with one of my friends at the river yesterday, helping her wash clothes. We were chatting and gossiping about all the family that had collected at our houses for a big dinner that one of the husbands was putting together as a treat for all the mothers.
We got to talking about romance in El Salvador.
During training the females were given a talk about the roadbumps of dating Salvadoran men. What we heard was that they are all cheaters, liars, schemers, and really good at it. If we wanted to date Salvadoran men, we were told, chances are, it will be a good idea to also see a therapist to keep yourself in check. Shit show.
It turns out that Salvadoran women have the same things to say about the men they date, marry and have children with.
While talking with my friend I was told that she herself had been cheated on at least three times over the course of her 10 year relationship. The first time she knows of was when her first children, twins, were only a few weeks old. While she said she left him for awhile, she always went back, usually for the sake of her kids. With each act of infidelity she looses whatever trust she has in him, and always looses the close female friend he had the affair with.
She then told me about almost every other Salvadoran married man I have met here. Each of them have had other women. They sold all the family cows to pay for a marriage with another woman, leaving their life partners and children with nothing, then come back home without a cent and are given pardon. Another was caught with a ¨carmela¨by his wife and he kicked her in the stomach, just a month after she had a cesarian. One works in town and has several ladies on the side. On the rare occasion he takes his family into town, the windows stay up, despite the heat, and she still hasn´t found out.
Depite all the crap these women put up with, they don´t really do much to stop it. The men who are caught cheating still get their food brought to them three times a day by their patient wives. The women who know that their friends are being cheated on don´t say a word to the women.
We packed up the kids and the clothes and walked back to the house. All the mothers had spent the day cooking the meal that is a gift to them. The women served up the food to the kids and to the husbands and then sat down to the gift of food they prepared.
Some of the mothers were suprised by gifts from their children and husbands. Others, my friend included, did not.
After a few words were said, and Don Jorge, the patriarch of the family, recited a poem for the mothers, the ladies played a round of musical chairs. They laughed and danced and shoved and had a good time and the winner got a gift bag.
This morning they were all still talking about the wonderful party. They thought it was a great mother´s day gift. I suppose it appealed to their nature. They cooked a meal and fed everyone more than they needed, they forgave their husbands for not getting them a little gift, and then enjoyed gossiping about everyone that had left while cleaning up the mess.
Anyway. I was spending time with one of my friends at the river yesterday, helping her wash clothes. We were chatting and gossiping about all the family that had collected at our houses for a big dinner that one of the husbands was putting together as a treat for all the mothers.
We got to talking about romance in El Salvador.
During training the females were given a talk about the roadbumps of dating Salvadoran men. What we heard was that they are all cheaters, liars, schemers, and really good at it. If we wanted to date Salvadoran men, we were told, chances are, it will be a good idea to also see a therapist to keep yourself in check. Shit show.
It turns out that Salvadoran women have the same things to say about the men they date, marry and have children with.
While talking with my friend I was told that she herself had been cheated on at least three times over the course of her 10 year relationship. The first time she knows of was when her first children, twins, were only a few weeks old. While she said she left him for awhile, she always went back, usually for the sake of her kids. With each act of infidelity she looses whatever trust she has in him, and always looses the close female friend he had the affair with.
She then told me about almost every other Salvadoran married man I have met here. Each of them have had other women. They sold all the family cows to pay for a marriage with another woman, leaving their life partners and children with nothing, then come back home without a cent and are given pardon. Another was caught with a ¨carmela¨by his wife and he kicked her in the stomach, just a month after she had a cesarian. One works in town and has several ladies on the side. On the rare occasion he takes his family into town, the windows stay up, despite the heat, and she still hasn´t found out.
Depite all the crap these women put up with, they don´t really do much to stop it. The men who are caught cheating still get their food brought to them three times a day by their patient wives. The women who know that their friends are being cheated on don´t say a word to the women.
We packed up the kids and the clothes and walked back to the house. All the mothers had spent the day cooking the meal that is a gift to them. The women served up the food to the kids and to the husbands and then sat down to the gift of food they prepared.
Some of the mothers were suprised by gifts from their children and husbands. Others, my friend included, did not.
After a few words were said, and Don Jorge, the patriarch of the family, recited a poem for the mothers, the ladies played a round of musical chairs. They laughed and danced and shoved and had a good time and the winner got a gift bag.
This morning they were all still talking about the wonderful party. They thought it was a great mother´s day gift. I suppose it appealed to their nature. They cooked a meal and fed everyone more than they needed, they forgave their husbands for not getting them a little gift, and then enjoyed gossiping about everyone that had left while cleaning up the mess.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
It´s May, Finally.
Happy Mother´s day! Things here have been slow, and while there are lots of things I could write about, I just don´t feel much inspiration to do so. At least I took the initiative to take a few photos around my house over the last few days.
Sitting in the hammock. I need to start working...
Sitting in the hammock. I need to start working...
Some Flower in my yard...
Nube, our Chivita.
Little Ricardito. 7 month little guy. Pretty cute...Pretty sure he has never touched the ground.
My hilarious ¨host mom¨Milena posing in a dress that she found somewhere."It´s from the USA," she said.
I told her my country will take the blame for a lot of things,but this dress is not one of them.
The Bichos. These kids couldn´t be louder at 6 am if they tried.
Nancy and... well, one of the twins, I still can´t tell them apart.Most terrifying clowns I have ever seen.
Carmen, Christina, Amalya and Brian.Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Holy Crap
Let me just say, I am falling into the same damn slump that everyone told me - and every other PCV here in El Salvador - I would fall into.
It´s month.... 2 in site, and every day feels like an eternity. A hot, sweaty, spanish eternity.
I can´t recount any recent victory or high point. I haven´t really been doing anything. I´ve been doing less than I was last month... This is the opposite of what I was hoping. Crap.
I spent two days, one night, at Playa Tunco last weekend. It was wonderful. I ate Falafel. FALAFEL. I drank spicy cold micheladas. It was fantastic. It was the perfect little break from what had been a long and kind of depressing week. However, going back to site, I didn´t really feel refreshed, as much as just wishing I had another evening, or six, at the Hotel La Guitarra.
Everyone keeps asking me when I am going to work, and I want to do a lot of stuff, but I feel like my hands are tied until PST II. At least this Sunday, hopefully, I will be putting a floor into my house. (Hopefully) It will be nice to come back to El Cocalito in mid June and move into my new place.
That´s all, Miss you all, Miss home.
But still, okay.
:)
It´s month.... 2 in site, and every day feels like an eternity. A hot, sweaty, spanish eternity.
I can´t recount any recent victory or high point. I haven´t really been doing anything. I´ve been doing less than I was last month... This is the opposite of what I was hoping. Crap.
I spent two days, one night, at Playa Tunco last weekend. It was wonderful. I ate Falafel. FALAFEL. I drank spicy cold micheladas. It was fantastic. It was the perfect little break from what had been a long and kind of depressing week. However, going back to site, I didn´t really feel refreshed, as much as just wishing I had another evening, or six, at the Hotel La Guitarra.
Everyone keeps asking me when I am going to work, and I want to do a lot of stuff, but I feel like my hands are tied until PST II. At least this Sunday, hopefully, I will be putting a floor into my house. (Hopefully) It will be nice to come back to El Cocalito in mid June and move into my new place.
That´s all, Miss you all, Miss home.
But still, okay.
:)
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