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.