Another Change, Another Adventure

So unless you’ve been keeping tabs via Facebook or my parents, you likely have no idea where I am. Maybe I’m underestimating the fluidity of the grapevine, though. Some of you knew that IPES (where I was up until mid-December) was facing some political differences within the organization and the state of my position was uncertain as a result. In the end, IPES experienced something like an internal split and it looks like it’s going to take some time for everything to settle back down. I’ll leave it to the former Director to sum up the rest. She articulates the situation far more accurately here.

Here are some photos from my time at IPES:

An insect, poisoned by chemicals, part of a socio-drama
during the Permaculture Design Course

Rocky Salvador terrain
The demonstration plot is typical farming land for many
small-scale campesin@s in El Salvador

It became obvious that neither IPES nor AEPS were in a position to host me as a volunteer. So I went home for three weeks during Christmas, had a good time seeing family and friends, played in the snow with Max, and didn't think much about returning (but not staying either). Essentially my choices at that point were: 1) remain in the States and get a job or continue with school, 2) return to El Salvador and work with CIS or 3) find a BVS placement in the U.S. Eventually, (as in, a week before my plane was to take off), I started to think about my choices more seriously, and after a while I chose to stay home and start taking care of things (i.e. my surmounting student loans). I felt I’d made the grown-up decision. I wasn’t running off anymore. I was going to start being a solid member of society, a Real Adult, by getting a job and chipping away at the looming pile of adult-things that have been waiting for me. 

So, naturally, I retracted my decision (even after sending out emails confirming my initial decision to stay) and decided to go, I decided to come back (it goes both ways). I am so grateful to have the opportunity to be here once again. And as much as it scares me, sometimes I think about staying long-term. But even if I don’t, it’s definitely a place I will be coming back to. I’ve got roots established here.

Chris and Dan in Antigua, Guatemala during our volunteer retreat.

Todd and Marta (his sister-in-law) at Marta's quinceñera last year.

Shout out to Dan McFadden and Todd Bauer for being supportive of my staying and going, even at the last minute. Another to Turner for challenging me to keep going, Amy for being a solid spiritual guide, dgenna for letting me ramble on about it, and the Kindys for being a flexible plan B (next year!). And lastly, thanks to my parents for offering a place to stay and then letting me go off again.

Currently I am working with an NGO called CIS (Center for Exchange and Solidarity). Most of the time I’m preparing or teaching an English class (something I’d always sworn off, mostly because I had no idea where to start, nor how to teach—a fear of inadequacy, really). I’m enjoying it immensely, but not enough (I think) to consider it as a career. Maybe. I’m also involved in the Clean Water Project, where we help get rural families, schools, and churches access to clean water. Larger community organizations receive purifiers—large, box-like contraptions that sterilize the water with (an unfortunately expensive) UV lightbulb. Individual families are given smaller Sawyer filters. CIS works intentionally to avoid “bad charity” and so in order to get a filer or purifier, families and organizations need to apply first, prove that there’s a need (based on stool sample results), as well as attend a three-day training program. In addition, the families pay a $10 fee for the filter so that they feel that they've made an investment in it, and therefore feel more inclined to care for it. Previously, the buckets that hold the water were found being used to hold tortillas, baby chicks, and other things. The $10 fee seems to have changed that significantly.

Comparison of filters from water purifier

Water purifier

CIS is also involved with democratic election observations. On Sunday, March 1st, El Salvador held elections for the alcaldes (mayors) and the diputados (department committee/board members). Many of the CIS staff and volunteers traveled to various parts of the country to partake in the observations, staying overnight in hotels or with families connected to CIS. We also participated in counting the votes (as another measure to prevent fraud) the next day. It was an interesting experience that perhaps I'll save for another post.

I’m excited to announce my participation in an up-and-coming organization in El Salvador, called Farming Hope (or Sembrando Esperanza en español). Farming Hope trains homeless Salvadorans in basic farming skills,  with the goal of self-sustainability. My friend Jamie is here through the Lutheran Church and has done an immense amount work getting it going. I just happened to show up at the right time (literally. I ran into him unexpectedly on the bus heading home for Christmas. It was the more serendipitous moment I have ever experienced). So here I am, being involved, and trying to make all the connections I can to keep this project going.

I will be talking more about Farming Hope in upcoming blogs, including stories of graduates (like the one who’s about to finish medical school in Cuba) and ways you fine folks can help (if you feel so called).

Thanks for reading. I´ll try to keep writing.

Peace,
Jess

what I see (what eye can't photograph)

I see dogs on the streets
rib cages poking through the skin
pelvic bones threatening to burst through
sniffing the cracks of the calles
searching for whatever was left behind

I see sleeping borrachos
cuddling their empties
moaning, dreaming
waking and pidiendo más, solo uno más

I see children playing futbol
with plastic balls or bottles
while their mothers yell,
"Don't hurt the americana!"
As I walk by.

I see men with cumas and machetes
shirts stained with sweat and dirt
sitting on the side of the road
laughing and sucking on sugar cane
eating their lunch with (at least) two tortillas
taking a break from the day's labor

I see acres and acres of caña de azucar
where there could be acres and acres of food and forest

I see campesinos burning through plots,
something they've been convinced will "clean" the land
riding the soil of every bit of life, down to the micros.
The U.S. government ha regalado free hybird seeds (courtesy of Monsanto)
which, in order to grow effectively, need chemicals
(we're convinced we need MiracleGro for the miracle of life to grow)

I see people planning to cross the border,
wanting to escape the suffocation of poverty, violence, and hunger.
A spark of hope flashes in their eyes when they talk about the promise of los Estados Unidos
believing if they can just cross the border, they can escape this hell they're living.
If only they knew what awaits on the other side...

I see us (the U.S.) aprovechando this wealthy land,
buying land to grow bananas to sell back home.
The money going in and out of the U.S.,
with the pickers barely making enough to get by.

Gangs, Immigration and the Power of Community

Last week we celebrated the 156th anniversary of Suchitoto (the city where I live). Students and employees of various institutions got to participate in a parade, and the city hosted various events in the plaza (including 156 fireworks at 4 AM this morning). I didn´t stay to watch the parade (they weren´t throwing candy, so what´s the point?) because I had a mission to get a volunteer signed up for Spanish classes, with the hopes of starting her this morning. While walking around town to get to the Spanish school, to lunch, and everywhere else, it was incredible seeing the huge crowds of people lining the streets of Suchi for the parade, or hanging out in the plaza listening to music and eating elote (sweet corn). Normally during a week day, the plaza is nearly empty, devoid of tourists (international or Salvadoreña), and seeing it overflowing with people really changed the atmosphere. Even into the evening, when people typically retire to their homes, the plaza was fairly hoppin´.

Suchitoto is not devoid of gang problems, and unfortunately their presence and (perceived) power is growing. Many people do not feel safe at night, even when travelling by car or bus. When I first came to Suchi, I was advised against being out after dark, especially alone, and to not wander into the residential areas of the city, sticking mainly to the center plaza area. This has been disappointing for me because Suchi is fairly residential, and once you´ve been around the center a few times, you know it pretty well. Several times I´ve had to warn uninformed tourists to turn around when the road starts to dip (this typically indicates a residential area, which could be dangerous). The office where I live and work sits on the border of this "boundary"; it´s close to the center, but just before the road bevels. There is a known pandilla presence about a half block from where I live.

Luckily for me (a white, American "tourist"), I´m not typically a target (except for occassional petty theft). This doesn´t mean I´m not cautious, by any means, so folks at home, keep cool. I´ve had all the lectures I could possibly want. Unfortunately for young Salvadoreño men, however, it´s a different story. Many of the guys I work with on the land don´t go into Suchi because of the pandilla presence here. For them, there´s a high chance of being approached and asked to join the gang, and if they refuse, are likely to be killed. Many of them know better, and so stay away, but this fear provides fuel for the gangs, to the point where police aren´t asked to get involved.

Many of these guys have family (usually male family members) that have already left for the U.S. in search of work or a better life. Some have told me they plan to do the same. As much as I want to tell them, "Don´t go", I will never be able to comprehend the struggles they face-- the difficulties of getting an education, finding a job (even WITH an education), and how to stay out of the gangs´ ways while still living life (there are two prominent gangs here in El Salvador: MS-13 and Barrio 18). I want to tell them, if all the well-intentioned, well-educated Salvadoreños keep leaving El Salvador, it´s never going to get better. I want to tell them that the journey is difficult and dangerous--you might not make it--and the $7000 USD you paid for your "ticket" north (a.k.a. coyote-guided trip) probably isn´t worth it. But I don´t really know. I never will.

Hearing about the nearly 40,000 unaccompanied minors fleeing to the U.S. from this side of the border has a different flavor to it. I see children leaving their home countries, searching for their parents working in the U.S., escaping the violence of gangs and corruption, going on the false belief that they will be granted permisos to stay in the U.S.. While I don´t have an answer, it´s heart-breaking to hear about people wanting to immediately deport these children back to where they came from. First and foremost, these people (children or not) are people, and should be treated as such. I´m not interested in a political debate, but I think that´s something that should be considered.

Seeing the crowds that gathered for the anniversary celebration made me wonder about the power of community-- how can Suchitoto take back its community, how can it become a place of safety and prosperity? How can it be more than a tourist destination, but a place to live peacefully and happily, without fear of death or danger?

Change of Scenery

My last post was somewhere around four months ago. I had just gotten back from being in the States and still wasn´t feeling any different about my project placement. Even after lots of "searching"-- asking the wisdom of others, reading, meditating, and some traveling, I still wasn´t sure what I wanted to do. I was held back mostly by fear, a fear of regret (either of leaving and deciding I shouldn´t have, or staying and remaining miserable). Eventually, however, something came to fruition.

(from my journal)

Yesterday while I was reading, I heard a voice within myself bubble up. It was quiet, but my head had stopped buzzing and churning from earlier, so it didn´t have much to compete with. It was soft and new, just born, this thought. After a day of labor had passed within my head, there it was.

“It´s time to leave. It´s okay.”

It took a second for it to sink in, but once it did, it felt good. It felt right, and I could breathe again. A chance to let go of everything I´d been holding in.

A few days later I called Todd and let him know. Two weeks later, we were planning to have our Central American BVS Retreat in El Salvador, and after that, I was going to attend a 10-Day Silent Meditation Course in the capital. We decided it would be best if I finished my time in Nebaj before I left for the retreats, so I had two weeks to pack up and say my goodbyes.

While it was difficult to leave in many ways, it was also exciting to be going to a new place (even though at the time, I didn´t know where). The BVS retreat was in El Salvador, where there were three other potential volunteer projects I could choose from, so I visited them after we finished our time together. All ended up being impressive, and as I went into the 10-Day Meditation retreat, I was still undecided (again because of fear, but it was smaller this time). After the meditation retreat, I hung out at Todd´s house for awhile, where I finally decided where I wanted to be.

And here I am. For the next year and a half (at least), I will be working as the volunteer coordinator at the Permaculture Institute of El Salvador (IPES) in colonial Suchitoto. My job consists of mostly office work-- responding to e-mails of potential volunteers, posting on the Facebook page, and updating the website. I am also repsonsible for the volunteers that come to help work on the land (IPES has a demonstration site where they train and educate people in permaculture practices), making sure they are safe, comfortable (for the most part), and have their needs met. Occassionally I will be able to get my hands dirty and help with those who are working on the land (I even get to participate in the permaculture design course for free!).

El Salvador is HOT HOT HOT and the mosquitoes are vicious, but I like it here so far. It feels good to be here. The comida tipica are pupusas, which are tortillas (usually made from corn or rice flour) filled with beans and cheese, various greens, meats, or vegetables (my favorite is cheese with ayote, a type of squash). There´s lots of pineapple and mangoes, but not many vegetables that are grown here (I´m told that El Salvador imports a majority of its food; 90% of all vegetables, 30% of beans, 30% of corn, and 70% of rice). Food security, poverty, and environmental degredation are all large problems here, but that´s for another blog post.

Pupusas!

I´m excited to be on a new adventure, and welcome visitors to come ANYTIME they want. I´d love to hang with you.

Peace,
Jess

Home and Back and a Little Bit of Language

After finding a good price for a plane ticket to the States and back, I decided I would make a trip home. I stayed for a week and a half, which in hindsight wasn't enough, but certainly better than nothing. It felt strange to be going home after being away for a little less than five months (my host mother was afraid that I wasn't going to come back and I think my mother was afraid I would), but now that I'm back in Nebaj, I'm feeling energized and more hopeful about my time here. My Spanish has improved immensely, to the point where I don't have to think-translate-conjugate-speak (though, not always in that order, sometimes I speak before I conjugate, and then stumble over my various attempts at correcting myself). At this point there are moments when it comes out before I've had time to think it over. Since being here, however, there have definitely been some struggles along the way (in Spanish AND English). I’m about to share some of those with you all.

     -About a month into my time here, we were having dinner at Caty’s (Todd’s wife) parents’ house. Yanna (Todd and Caty’s daughter), had been getting on my nerves (she often felt like a little sister to me) and was fooling around at the dinner table. For some reason, she started chewing on her plastic spoon and I (for some reason) tried to tell her to stop in my beginner’s Spanish. In my frustration, however, it came out a little differently.
            “Yanna, no esta bien a comer tu cucaracha.”

The word for “spoon” is cuchara (koo-CHAR-a), and the word for cockroach is cucaracha (kooka-ra-cha). So I ended up saying that it’s not good to eat your cockroach. And, of course, she burst out laughing and continued to ignore me, so I gave up.

     -The day before I moved to Nebaj, Todd and I went to do my visa run in Mexico (I have a tourist visa, so I have to leave Guatemala every three months to renew it). We decided to stop for lunch at a comedor (com-eh-door, a small eatery, with typically two or three options to choose from). We went inside a large building where there were several comedors packed in like cubicles in an office building. All of the women (typically women own and operate the comedors here) were trying to get us to come to their comedor. “Pasa adelante. We have beef soup, chicken soup, or vegetable soup.” Most of them offered the same options. While we were deciding, Todd advised me that it’s best to go to a comedor where there’s already a good number of people—it typically means the food is good. Personally being rather passive and sometimes even timid in new situations, I told him, “I’d probably just go to whoever molests me the least…I mean bothers me, hahaha.” Luckily, as a Spanish-English speaker, he knew what I meant. In Spanish, the word for “to bother” is molestar (moll-es-star). It does NOT mean to molest.

      A common mistake English speakers make while learning Spanish is wanting to say “I’m embarrassed,” but actually saying, “I’m pregnant.” The word for “pregnant” is “embarrazada”, but it’s a false cognate. Be careful what you say, folks. Learning Spanish has made this fast-speaking extrovert slow down and think quite a bit over these past few months.

Hope you all are doing well. I am currently visiting a permaculture site located near the INCREDIBLE Lake Atitlan. It’s a lake surrounded by mountains, and some of the fruits and plants that grow here are: banana, papaya, avocado (new favorite for the Indiana girl), coffee, among other things. I hope to write about my experience here later.

Peace and Growth.

Home

This past month has been a struggle in adjusting, but my feelings about being here are growing to be more positive and the desire to flee home has more or less dissipated, at least until now. A wise friend reminded me that home is always ready and waiting for me when I return. Hearing this has made it easier for me focus on being present here, rather than dreaming and wondering what’s going on in all the places other than here. But the world still spins, time still turns, and home is going to change. When I was preparing to leave to come here, I would silently pray that everyone would still be here (there) when I got back. 

But the world still spins, time still turns, and home has changed.

How does one practice being present when home is hurting? I feel so called to be somewhere else, feel so called to be home (which has come to mean far more than a single place, a single person). And I would go, instantly, without hesitation, if it weren’t for the cost to fly (if only I could Apparate…). Know that although physically I am here, miles and miles away, mentally and emotionally I am reaching for you, that I am with you. I love you so much.

Go like water, come like water.

photos8.com

Nebaj Part II

I'm in Nabaj, Guatemala, which is about four hours from Ixtahuacan, passing over from the Mam region into Quiche/Ixil region. Regions are more or less divided based on the native languages. Here, in Nebaj, the language is Ixil. Quiche (key-chay) is the capital of the region, where Quiche is spoken. Although I'm only a few hours away, there are definitely cultural differences here that I've been adjusting to. Thus far, they've only been minor, such as greetings and thanking everyone individually after finishing a meal (in Ixta, we just said a general thank you). I imagine there will be more once I feel settled in.

In my time here, I've missed, along with my human family, my cat and my dog. Luckily where I am now, there are always lots of animals around, and the cat here loves attention, so we've gotten along well. Pet culture (I suppose that's what you could call it) doesn't exist here. Well, sort of. Many people have dogs specifically to guard the house or warn if someone (or something) is coming. The dogs are not allowed inside (most of the time) and are fed the scraps of leftover food. In the city, there are hundreds (maybe that's an exaggeration, but in any case, a significant number) of stray dogs or dogs who spend the day wandering the streets, as some of them have owners. It's a little overwhelming, but luckily, most of them are afraid of people or at least, not aggressive toward people. I feel terrible when there's a female dog in heat and there's literally a pack of males following her...

Michelle

Mali

They were hungry and came to let me know.

The one that is perched was cold and was trying to sit
beneath its mate, who wasn't interested in warming him up.
This is from my bed.

Nebaj is a little colder than Ixta, and a lot wetter. There's a lot of mud and not many roads are paved. It's been getting warmer, though, as we're entering the dry season, but it can still be cold at night. We've had several chicks die because they wandered from their mothers during the night (though, the two mother hens don't care for them very well).

I still miss home quite a bit. Since I've been in Guatemala I've seen lots of interesting t-shirts and other clothing from the States (clothes that don't sell at Salvation Army etc eventually make their way down here). Most interestingly I've seen a few from Indiana specifically: Indiana Hoosiers, Notre Dame University (10 minutes from where I grew up), a few from Indy, and one that said Manchester Township (not quite Indiana, but close enough for me). I'm not sure if the Universe is calling me home, or if it's trying to tell me that home is here...

P.S. Something I've learned recently: the term "ladino" (previously misspelled ladrino in an earlier post) is an offensive term for those of mixed culture. If you were to look up the word in the dictionary, you would find "robber" or "thief". I'm told the term originates from back when the colonialists first arrived, when a Spanish man would father a child, whose mother was indigenous, and neither the father nor the mother wanted the child, because it was associated with the other parent's culture. So in order to survive, they became thieves. I apologize for using the word so loosely earlier, but I suppose that's part of the learning process. The proper term to use is "mestiza", or mixed, for anyone who's curious.

Thanks for reading.