Maybe we should sing Skinny Love again....

Training is over.

Three weeks of tech training and spanish reconnect... Really wonderful, energizing, and insightful.

Coming down from that, we made the disastrous mistake of going to Playa El Espino, El Salvador's best beach. Bullshit. They're all liars.

El Espino Recap:

Dead puppy

Fishy beer bottles

No beach

No tiendas

No transportation

I drank too much two nights in a row and regret it, as I always do. I wanted to have fun, I wanted to boot off the feeling of panicky blues I had. Didn't work.

I still feel bummed, and I'm stuck in San Sal for the night, because I couldn't get out of that terrible beach town in time to make it back to site. I could go on and on about my frustration, but I won't. Instead.... here is a better memory....

Suchitoto, boyyeeeee The city of birds and flowers.

Suchitoto recap:

Has a PLAZA,

Affordable drinks

backpacker hunting

immobile marching band

dirty, cheap hostels

Crepes with Nutella

Ferries across the lake

Danny Hinks and I took a weekend to get away from the madness. Two hours by bus, we found ourselves in a rainy, rainy little town. Vista al Lago offered an incredible view of the lake (best enjoyed with two bottles of tinto) and a mosquitero... Only 8 dollars a night, but the walls were fake, and we wanted to keep searching.

Night Two brought us to Luna Blanca, where the dueno sat down for a 10 am beer with us.

Unfortunately... I lost all my self esteem in Suchitoto.

We need to learn to say "no" in a way that caring Salvadorans will understand. Por Ejemplo...

If a Salvadoran man insists that you relax in a hammock, and you say no, and he puts it up and stands there waiting for you to get in... just DON'T.

The truth of the matter is that when he says it's old, but still works, it DOESN'T and you will sit in it for thirty seconds before one of the little ropes breaks and you're hanging by your pinky toe and laughing so hard that you can't move.

The next step is to not allow the man to insist that your friend Dan Hinks then tries the same freakin hammock. But he will, and another little rope will break, leaving him on his ass too.

Why do we let ourselves be put into these situations? For god's sake.

All in All, Suchitoto won, big time. I can't wait to go back, and it was pretty much perfect, while it lasted.

Back in da 'peque

Well, things have been a little kookie around the Salv this last week.

I celebrated my 23rd birthday on Sunday (mi año de oro, by the way) and had the lovely pleasure of attending a birthday dinner that my ADESCO friends threw in my honor. What sweet people! We chowed down pretty seriously, and just as we were finishing up, the rain started coming down.

It didn't really stop for a few days. El Cocalito was a muddy, wet mess. Kind of a bummer.

However, I had things to look forward to.

As a belated 23rd birthday celebration my favorite PCVs and I went to Playa Tunco for two nights to pre-game our two week training in San Vicente. I set of Friday morning, and got to the beach about two hours before Agatha brought in a steady stream of rainfall. Lo que sea. The beach was relaxing, cool, and still just as chock full of beautiful international surfer guys as I hoped it would be.

On the downside, some time earier in the week, I ate something that gave me a bacterial infection in my guts. The mix of alcohol and food that wasn't beans and tortillas exacerbated the problem and gave me a fever and some pretty unfortunate digestive issues. Not cool. Oh well, I can enjoy both the beach and the company of such delightful friends without the booze.

Sunday morning we were scheduled to head out... But Agatha, that jerk, decided to create some minor landslides on the highways all around the department of La Libertad. The bus options were limited, but we got out of Tunco and made it to the city of La Libertad. Most of us had no cash left. The ATMS were all down, and there was no bus service out of the city, due to the condition of the streets. We were a little stuck.

One of the PC staff suggested we take a taxi as far as we could go up the highway before we get to the landside.... then to get out and walk across... he would be waiting on the other side with the Prado. No...

Thankfully the ever resourceful and charming Jon-Michael found a little old lady who hustled and found us a microbus that would bring us into San Salvador. So a few salvi ladies, a stranded traveler from the UK, a mountain of wet, dank luggage and equally wet and smelly PCVs

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.

Jacqueline Novogratz: A third way to think about aid | Video on TED.com

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

:)