Happy New Year!

I get excited for new beginnings; hence, I often like to capitalize on natural “restarts” throughout the year in order to refocus on areas I want to improve in my life. Typically, New Years and a new school year are my favorites! I’ve been plotting adjustments I want to make for the last month or so. Clearly, there’s no reason why these changes couldn’t be started at any time, but for me, clean breaks work better!

Academic Goals

Read an average of 2 books per month.
I started reading a lot more when I was living Nigeria without a lot of other entertainment opportunities and remembered that I DO like reading! My goal for the past few years has been to read 1 book per month, but I’ve been surpassing that, so now that I’m living abroad again with limited options after dark, I feel I can up my standards.

Read 1 Spanish book per week.
I’m going to start at a low children’s level and increase the reading level as I (hopefully) improve!

Internet Goals

Limit facebook usage to an acceptable amount.

-No facebook news feed in the morning.
-Only check email/facebook at lunch.
-No facebook news feed until workout has been done

I am a firm believer that facebook is a positive thing. I truly appreciate being able to keep in touch with so many friends from literally all over the world. However, I’m also confident that checking the facebook newsfeed every 30 minutes isn’t a good use of my time.

Diversify internet usage.
Read international news and Salvadoran news daily

Health Goals

Maintain running and include strength training.

-Run at least 4x’s per week.
-Other exercises (yoga/calisthenics) 4x’s per week

Running is just a part of my life, so it’s not a big deal. However, trying to increase my motivation to do strength training is ridiculously challenging for me. I think if I link it to facebook, it will help! J

Drink more water
Drinking more water will make me less hungry and help me to eat reasonable portions.

Eat fewer sweets-good rule of thumb is 1/day after Jaunuary.
I love sweets. It can get out of control…and did. After I once again realize I don’t need ridiculous amounts of sugar to function by going cold turkey, I can return to the happy place of moderation.

Service Goals

Participate in one weekend service activity per month.
I loved the opportunities I had to travel around this first semester here in El Salvador, but I also realized that I’m living in a developing country with all sorts of service opportunities available that I hadn’t adequately tapped into yet. I’m excited to mix that in a bit more this year!

Get involved in Glasswing –a program involved with Salvadoran public education.
I’m teaching at an elite private school, but I’d love to be able to get involved at some level with public education here in El Salvador as well.

Ask about volunteering at the nursing home.
I miss the elderly. I loved Gavino, the man I visited weekly in San Antonio, and the regulars I was able to see in Clinton. There’s a nursing home not far from where I live, so I’m going to go see if I can volunteer there on a regular basis. It’ll be interesting to see how similar it is to nursing homes in the states.

Increase Community

Cook a dinner to eat with others 2x’s per month.
This always sounds like a good idea to me, but then I get worried about whatever I made being strange and appealing only to me. I’m going to quit being concerned and make some arrangements!

Professional Goals

Do one chemistry demo per week.
I know that kids love demos and they can be a great teaching too both for application as well as engagement. It will simply take a little extra planning and effort to make sure they happen regularly. The results will certainly be worth the effort!

Increase the amount of patience displayed.
This doesn’t mean I want to decrease rigor or lower expectations but simply to teach the expectations that I desire instead of displaying frustration when those expectations are not met.

Investigate Curriculum Writing.
This is the first school I’ve worked at where the curriculum standards weren’t presented to me. The scope and sequence is also lacking. I have a master’s degree in Curriculum and Instruction in Science Education and should be applying that training to improving the curriculum around me!

Wow! This list turned out to be a lot longer than I had initially anticipated, but all of these things listed have been pondered regularly for a while now, so in theory they shouldn’t be that difficult to implement. As I review it, they all seem to be very do-able but just require a bit more mindfulness than I had been employing. I’ve never really written them out in such an official fashion before, but this will hopefully provide me an opportunity to look back and reflect on my progress! Now that I am officially settled and comfortable in new Salvadoran life, it’s time to tweak it from great to delightful AND worthwhile! J I’ll get started on all of this when I get back from a week of volunteering down in Costa Rica! Should be an exciting start to 2012!!!

Home for Christmas!

When I left this summer for El Salvador, I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d be home for Christmas or not. I’m very thankful that everything worked out for me to come home for almost two weeks!

In preparations for my trip to Iowa, I realized I didn’t have to pack hardly any clothes because of the different climates. Here is a picture of me in El Salvador the morning before I left for Iowa with a poinsettia that I discovered was growing in my back yard! Shockingly, I wasn’t going to need my sandals and skirts in the frozen temperatures. As I stepped off the plane and onto the gate, I was quickly reminded that Iowa in December is colder than El Salvador...even though it has been one of the warmer Decembers in recent history! While I was a little disappointed about the lack of snow and consequently lack of cross-country skiing, the good roads for travel and pleasantly, cool temperatures have been an acceptable exchange.

The first evening I was home, I decided to dig out my winter running clothes and go for an invigorating and liberating run at night, in the dark with my ipod to look at Christmas lights! What an enjoyable treat!!! It’s all about celebrating the positives: while I’m in El Salvador, I love the fact that I can wear shorts and t-shirts year-round and can therefore be dressed and ready to run in less than 5 minutes! However, I can’t run past 6pm because it’s not safe to run in the dark and running with my ipod would act as a neon-flashing sign asking to be mugged. Taking the extra time to search for all my winter running accoutrements and having some chilly hands at the beginning were fully compensated by the pretty lights and music of a Christmastime run in Iowa!

In the weeks prior to my arrival back in the US, I began to arrange my schedule for my time at home in order to maximize the amount of family and friends I would be able to see. I’m so glad I did because I have had so much fun getting together with friends old and new and from near and far! Technology is SUPER because it enables me to stay in contact with so many people from so many places, but a hug and face to face conversation can’t be beat! I remembered to get out my camera during some of the get-togethers…others got taken over by conversation will have to be represented with old pictures. Family and friends are a HUGE blessing in my life, and I have been extra thankful during this Christmas season!

My Family (Wilton)

Sarah, Joshua and me (Clinton High School buddy)

Sue, me and Chuck (Former Clinton Landlords!-old picture)

Deanna, Tami, me and Jenna +Jill, too!- (CHS Science Department Girls-old picture)

Kirsten & me (Former Texas roommate-old picture)

Laura (UNI friend), Meredith (friend through Laura) (Des Moines)

Angie & me (Cedar Falls-Texas friend)

Danielle & me (Cedar Falls-UNI friend-old picture)

Carter-side Christmas
(picture to come...)

Carlson-side Christmas

Salvadoran Christmas Observations

Christmas here in El Salvador seems like Christmas in the states upon initial review, but when I take a closer look, there are some interesting differences:

-I was in Wal-Mart and wanted to find Christmas stickers but discovered that Christmas is contained to one small corner and it doesn’t include stickers.

-I thought I heard a Salvation Army bell ringer, but it was a man pushing an ice cream cart down the street.

-Going to the beach in December is novel and cool, but I miss snow!

-I was told that THE Christmas gift to bring back to all male relatives and friends is a Salvadoran machete. The people helping me at the hardware store told me the pros and cons of each of the two different designs. They also humored me and taught me the Spanish word for the holder. However, they proceeded to look at me funny and eventually outright laugh at me when I said I wanted three.

-I delivered cookies to the street vendors and guards that work at businesses along the street that I walk regularly to church. They were really excited about them-favorite Christmas gift given so far.

-Drinking hot cinnamon tea adds to the Christmas-feel even if it is 80 degrees outside.

Christmas Party

I’d been hearing about the Escuela Americana Christmas party for months now and was excited to finally get to experience it in all its glory! Everyone kept telling me, “It’s quite the experience…” They were right! :) To set the stage, the school employs probably around 500-800 people from administrators to teachers to aids to secretaries to guards to maintenance people to coaches. For a school that only has about 125 per class, it employs a LOT of people and all are invited to a giant Christmas party at the Holiday Inn. While we were waiting to go through the buffet lines, the DJ, decked out in a festive, felt- top hat boasting the flag of the US, kept us entertained with snippets of Latin and US songs alike.

After people had eaten, the music increased from background level to dancing level. Imagine big, crazy wedding reception: crowded dance floor, colored flashing lights, bubbles and streamers floating down intermittently. Then, the Salvadoran special was a video being projected on the entire side wall that was completely unrelated stylistically, or really, in any way to the music being played as well as two promotional dancers. The male was wearing a fluorescent orange shirt with ruffled sleeves and the female was dressed rather scandalously in short, tight clothing for a school Christmas party and both were dancing in an extremely enthusiastic manner winding throughout dance floor.

I watched wide-eyed taking in the grand spectacle and wasn’t considering being a part of the soirée taking place in the center of the room. However, when my table buddy told me that she was going out there to dance, I decided to leave my comfort zone behind at the table and join the dance party! Soon I had been handed a glow stick bracelet and I was doing my best blend in by getting my dance on. After about an hour the lights came up and the final portion of the afternoon began.

The giant video on the side wall was converted into the prize randomizer. The prizes ranged from computer speakers to water glasses to pillows. Each person’s name that was called had their ID picture projected to billboard size just to ensure we knew who everyone was. The majority of the people stuck around all through the dance and the distribution of maybe 50 menial prizes all to be in the running for the final grand prize: a plane ticket to Miami! When it comes to travel, many costs can be reduced or evaded except that of a plane ticket. I wanted to win it. I didn’t. I hope the recipient has a nice trip! :) As I left my inaugural Escuela Americana Christmas party, I felt that an additional level of Salvadoran induction was complete.

Other Side

I’ve always been the one leaving: moving on, new location, fresh start. It’s been bittersweet but happened with the knowledge of a new, unknown and exciting adventure ahead! This time, I’m the one who’s being left behind and it’s a never-before-experienced, strange feeling. In all seriousness, I’m LOVING my life in El Salvador…a LOT! However, it’s strange to realize that many of the new friends that I’ve made over the past 4 months are leaving at the end of this school year. Many current conversations around me consist of job applications, interviews, or the pros and cons of potential future cities/countries of employment. I’m excited for them and know that this is a new and exciting step in their lives, but it’s also a strange realization that 8 people that I’ve just started to get to know and like are all leaving the country in a few more months! I’m beginning to get a small taste of my own medicine.

I know that I’m not ready to leave now that I’m feeling settled and comfortable, but it’s strange to consider next year knowing that places and procedures will be familiar but there will be an entirely new crop of people to meet, introduce to El Salvador and explore with! This is a role that will be new to me, but thankfully, I’ve had some SUPER role models everywhere I’ve gone in how to make a new girl feel welcome, accepted and loved. What a great opportunity it will be to get to return some of the extravagant hospitality I’ve received so many times over!

International Chaperone

I just returned from a Knowledge Bowl competition in San Pedro Sula, Honduras where I served as a last minute substitute chaperone! Now, I have traveled with students multiple times before, but never internationally. As we were boarding the bus, one of the moms verified with me that I’d be collecting all the passports once we got to the hotel and keeping them in the safe in my room. I nodded emphatically as if that was clearly the plan of action that I had been intending to carry out. However, in my mind I was thinking, “Safe? Hotels have safes in them? I need to not only take care of my ridiculously important documentation, but now I’m also in charge of the safekeeping of 9 other minors’ passports?!” I just continued to smile and nod.

When we got to the border, the security officer had to see me and my passport as each child on a Salvadoran passport was now officially placed in my care. My Spanish managed to carry me through the niceties of customs despite the fact that it was being distorted through the glass and extra scary because it was an important situation. We were allowed to cross the border into Honduras where we each collected an important piece of yellow paper that we were told would cost us $150 if lost. So, who got put in charge of keeping track of all these mysterious, yet valuable yellow, carbon triplicates? That’s me!

After an 8 hour bus ride, we arrived at a fancy hotel and hurried to get everyone into their room as we were already late for the much-needed coaches meeting and opening ceremonies. As group by group came to get their keys, I signed my life away time after time agreeing to be responsible for these children and all their actions. Slightly daunting, yes, but I decided to simply focus on getting their passports safely put away in a locked place (despite the fact that I’ve traveled quite a bit internationally and NEVER locked up my passport…I’d also never been in charge of an additional 9 either). I got up to my room to find the safe in the closet, safely and securely locked shut. I proceeded to follow the instructions provided on the outside of the safe to reset the code and open the door. I followed them carefully 6 times before I decided that I needed back up and called the front desk. They said they’d send someone soon. I explained that we were already late, so it needed to be ahorita [now]! I waited for seemingly an eternity, which probably amounted to 3 minutes. When no one came, I decided that the passports could live in the nightstand drawer for a few hours because by now everyone was going to be waiting for me on the bus to leave for the school!

In my infinite wisdom, I decided to get to the bus faster by skipping the elevator and taking the stairs which happened to be conveniently located right outside my door! As I was mentally patting myself on the back for being speedier AND more environmentally friendly, I realized that a dimly-lit stair case in Honduras might not have been the most opportune locale to go green. Whoops! Okay, I thought, I won’t do this again. I’m sure I’ll be fine this time. I was only on the 3rd floor, so as I made it down one flight of stairs and reached the 2nd floor I was a little apprehensive that there was no handle to get back in. However, I reassured myself that for security purposes they keep the floors locked, but surely the lobby door will open. Nope, not the case. I continued my descent hoping and praying that I’d come across an unlocked door to exit, but I only found a very dark and door-less corner.

At this point, my heart and mind started to race simultaneously. Irrational and illogical Carolyn “I’m going to be stuck in this stair case FOREVER! There’s no air conditioning and probably a finite amount of oxygen that I’ll quickly deplete because the window aren’t open!” Rational and logical Carolyn, “I’ll call my co-chaperone Will and he’ll let me out!” I called and realized that his phone doesn’t work here in Honduras. “I’ll call the other school’s chaperone!” Oh wait, we hadn’t exchanged numbers yet. “I’ll pound on the door because surely the guy who was supposed to come and help me open my safe will be looking for me and hear me knocking and save me!” I pounded on the door for a while feeling really guilty that I was making an entire bus of people even later. When no one responded, I realized at this point that I probably wouldn’t be stuck forever and when I got out it’d be a good story! :) Thankfully, soon after that thought, I received a text from Will saying “Test” and heard him knocking on my door looking for me. I pounded back, yelled and was heard! Free!!! (He could text but not send or receive calls…go figure.)

Despite the fact that we were in a hurry to get to the bus, I caught a glance at the door and felt vindicated that there was no sign anywhere on that door that said “This door will lock behind you and you’ll be stuck forever” only “Fire Escape”. What if there’s a fire and the firemen need to get up to another floor? They’ll be locked out for good! Thankfully, I made it through the remainder of the trip without any other major chaperone faux pas. Some might take exception with the two important receipts I misplaced, but I’ve decided that since both situations have already been rectified, it’s as if they don’t even count! :) Coaching a Knowledge Bowl team is a story for another day…

Volcano Race

Road races were just getting started last year in San Salvador, but this year they are in full force and I believe that I have done 4 races in less than 4 months. This is the greatest concentration of races that I’ve ever run including the time surrounding my marathon training a little over a year ago! However, after running an “8K” which turned out to be a 6K mostly up hill on trails, a 6.4K (yep, 6.4), and a “10K” which turned out to be about 9K, I had the chance to run my favorite race I’ve ever run…ever. It was a 14K up San Salvador Volcano on dirt/rocky trails called “El Reto del Volcan” [The Volcano Challenge].

Now, prior to running it, I was a little apprehensive about running up a volcano, which I estimate climbed about 2600ft or around 800m. However, I decided it was novel to run up a volcano, and I like novel experiences. Granted, I hadn’t run more than a 12K at any point in the recent past, but surely I could scale a volcano over 14K if I just ran slowly enough! So, we left my friend’s car at the top and were bussed down to the starting point with a group of people looking much more hard core than I felt. Before the start, I kept reassuring myself, “You’ll finish…just keep running!”

When the gun sounded around 7:10am, I was pleasantly surprised to see that everyone was starting out slowly knowing that we had a lot of volcano in front of us. The weather was pleasantly cool, with a refreshing breeze and a bright blue sky. As we began our ascent, I marveled at the gorgeous, green trees along the path that opened up at opportune places along the path to display ever-increasingly amazing views of the other volcanoes in the distance with clouds gently resting on top like a crown and Lake Illopango sitting at its base. At times, an overview of the city was visible, and others times only nature. As the morning wore on and the sun heated things up, we rose in altitude and it got cooler negating the warming effects! The first third of the race was a fairly gentle, but steady incline and I was nearly giddy with delight to be running amongst such beauty. As the incline increased, I kept enjoying the views and continue to press on slowly but surely. The race wore on and I realized I was passing people; that’s always exciting! Don’t be mistaken, I was running SLOWLY, but others would walk and slow running beat walking up a steep hill.

With no mile markers, I really had no idea how far I’d gone except I figured I should be able to finish in about 2 hours…8 miles…uphill…15 minute miles. I’d been going for about 1:15 when a man told us we had only 2K left…what?! Only a little over a mile to go?! I was stoked! Yeah, pretty sure he lied, and knew we’d never see him again to complain. That was the toughest part: mentally thinking you were going to be done at any moment only to find another turn and yet more uphill. However, I did reach the end and with a legitimate time of 1hr 47min! I would have been pleased with any time because running up a volcano is an accomplishment in itself, but it was fun to have exceeded my non-existent expectations!

Finally, as if gorgeous views, friendly co-runners, beautiful weather, and good results weren’t enough, they fed us a full, sit-down breakfast at the end of the race with views looking out over the volcano! Best. Race. Ever.

Church in San Salvador

Finding a church home has always been an integral part of my life regardless of where I’ve lived, it’s been a constant and important part of my life. In addition to providing a place where I can grow spiritually and a vessel through which to serve, church has also enabled to integrate into a community while attempting to form relationships and acclimate in a new place. Upon arriving to El Salvador, I decided to search for a church based on these mostly logistical qualifications: within walking distance of home, Protestant, Spanish-speaking, and comprised of primarily Salvadorans (as opposed to ex-patriots). There was approximately one church that fit that bill, so on my first Sunday after orientation, I verified the directions on Google maps and took off!

I feel blessed beyond measure by the community I have found! It’s a huge Assembly of God church and a bit more conservative and charismatic than I would choose, but one can learn a lot from perspectives she might not always agree with. I’m only more recently starting to understand a high enough percentage to know that I have arguments to make! I inquired about small groups I could get involved with and got connected with an AMAZING group of 20-30-something single women who are delightful and have fully welcomed me into their social circle despite the fact that many of them don’t speak any English, and my Spanish needs to be handled with grace and patience.

One of the first events they invited me to was a Women’s Conference. Honestly, I was not looking forward to it aside from the fact that it would be an opportunity to listen to a lot of Spanish and spend time with my new prospective Salvadoran friends during breaks because I had already decided it was going to be all about female submission and being obedient to the head of the household. Thankfully, I was completely wrong! Instead here are some of the things that I took away from the 2-day event (some spiritual, others superficial)

*Despite the unwritten requirement of wearing a fuchsia shirt and heels that were no less than 3” high, they accepted me in my green shirt and chaco sandals.

*Jokes are much harder to understand in a second language. I missed a lot, but was excited when I would happen to catch one!

*Despite ejercito sounding like exercise, it actually means army which was said no fewer than 100 times. I think I finally asked my friend next to me after time #97.

*While I don’t typically appreciate war imagery with respect to matters of the faith, I was able to make exception because it was used in the context of a women’s conference and the verses referenced started with Deborah leading a huge army to take out a neighboring village because she was the only one with enough faith in what God was going to do. The story ends with a second woman Jael completing the mission by giving the leader of the opposition spoiled milk to drink instead of water and then nailing a peg through his temple while he was sleeping (Judges 4). Again, let me reiterate that I’m a much bigger fan of the parts of the Bible that emphasize the importance of loving one another, mercy triumphing over judgment and the challenge issued for the righteous one to throw the first stone. However, it was refreshing and empowering to hear about some of the women of the Bible who didn’t just sit nicely and quietly, but took action based on their faith (even if it was in a more violent manner than I would prefer)!

Isaiah 60:1, the theme of the retreat says, “Levantate, resplandece; porque ha venido tu luz y la Gloria de Jehova ha nacido sobre ti.” [Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.] I have definitely experienced the shiny goodness and welcoming embrace of friendship by my new friends and hope to be able to pass it on!

Correo Aventura (Mail Adventure)

El Salvador is on day four of constant rain resulting in the country being put on a yellow alert. This means the country is at high risk for extreme flooding and landslides, and all the schools in the entire country were cancelled for Thursday and Friday. It’s a scary situation for people living in adobe homes and less secure dwellings that can be easily washed away. However, besides praying for them, I’m not sure how I can be of assistance right now, so I decided to use this unexpected no-school day to make my long-anticipated trip to the post office.

The yellow alert didn’t happen because of sunny skies; therefore, I was faced with the decision of calling a taxi and spending $5 there and $5 back or walking. Since I could think of a thousand other things I’d rather purchase with $10 and the idea of a 30-minute walk in the rain appealed to my inner child, I opted to make it a personal challenge to walk to the mall, find the post office inside, and keep all my letters and package dry in the process. (It reminded me of my challenge vs Mother Nature during a snow day last year in Clinton: make it to HyVee and buy groceries to make cookies without falling on the ice.) Though Mother Nature has conquered a vast number of school systems, I felt the need to defy her and accomplish my errands in the face of severe weather.

In preparation, I placed my cards, wallet, and book of life in a ziplock bag. Then, I placed the contents of the package in a paper bag inside a plastic grocery bag. All of these things went in a reusable nylon grocery bag, which was then placed inside a white garbage bag and secured leaving only the shoulder straps exposed. Now, I was aware of the capillary action that would take place when the straps got inevitably soaked, but this was an unavoidable and calculated risk. Next, I put on my performance gear rain jacket hoping that it would live up to its ridiculous performance gear price and keep my torso dry. I knew that my legs had no hope, so I decided some quick-dry hiking pants rolled-up as capris would be suffice along with my trusty Chaco sandals. My friend suggested an umbrella, but I decided it would be a hindrance for a 30-minute walk through heavy rains and in the end would provide limited additional shielding, so therefore opted against it.

As I stepped out of my house and the rain drops began to pelt down on all my water-protection gear, I was flooded simultaneously with feelings of exhilaration and doubt! “How fun! I’m going to walk about a mile and a half in pouring rain to go mail some letters! I LOVE this!” “What am I doing? I hate being cold and wet. People are going to think I’m crazy.” The former sentiment prevailed, and I continued on to meet the vigilante (guard) at the gate of our compound. He looked at me questioningly, and told me to stay dry! :)

I started out with palpable uncertainty continuing to question the sanity of this entire situation and attempting to step carefully over the vast pools of water. Then, something magical happened - I realized that I could walk right through ankle-deep puddles without any negative consequence! The gushing rivers flowed over the sidewalk and I got to take enormous delight in letting it rush over my feet! Soon my pants were 100% soaked, but I took solace in the belief that my torso was still dry. Then, I saw a man approaching me with an entire plastic cape…he’d done this before! We exchanged greetings and knowing smiles that we had indeed discovered the pleasure of walking in the rain. (Now it’s entirely possible that he wasn’t experiencing the same pleasure of walking through the rain and instead solely found joy in watching this gringa (white girl) getting soaked with a smile, but who’s to know for sure?)

As I was nearing the mall, I had to walk across a bridge which put me closer to traffic than I had previously been on the sidewalk. Mere feet from the road…streets full of water…cars whizzing by…the inevitable result seems obvious in hindsight. However, I was startled the first time a car drove by and sprayed me with a fan-shaped cascade of street-puddle water. Don’t worry; the shock waned after each subsequent car. Momentarily down-trodden, I suddenly realized that I was already soaked and now I was able to relive my childhood Log Ride memories. People pay good money to experience the thrill of inevitable splashes and I got mine for FREE!

When I reached the overhang of the mall, it was time to assess the rain damages. As I unzipped my jacket, I was pleased as punch that my t-shirt was 100% dry! Conclusion: performance gear is worth the price. I decided to wait to open the bag of goods until I reached the post office. As I wandered through the mall, anticipation was mounting. I spotted an approachable salesclerk and asked for directions. After discreetly giving me a once-over, he obliged. I looked like a drowned rat from my waist down, so I just gave him a knowing smile, thanked him and went on my way. As I approached the store-front and peered through the glass doors, the office looked deserted and doubts began to creep into my mind. Did a yellow alert mean that all government offices were closed?! Did I really make this long trek in the rain only to bring everything back home with me?! Relief washed over me as I pulled on the handle of the door and it opened cueing a kind man to emerge from the back.

With an affable air, he greeted me and listened to my overly-enthusiastic story, told in earnest Spanish, of conquering the rain. We watched with suspense as layers of wet bag were peeled away from the parcels to assess how they had fared the rain. To my great surprise and delight, they came out completely dry! I want to believe that Walter shared my enthusiasm at dry contents, but honestly I think he was simply trying to make sense a half-soaked, overly animated gringa on the opposite side of his mail counter. My exuberance amplified when he was able to provide me a manila envelope to go to Nigeria, a box to go to the US and great conversation throughout the process.

Walter, the extremely helpful and friendly post office employee, was wonderful! He lives in a village two hours away from San Salvador but for nine years he has been taking the bus 2 hours each way to work every day because there are only agricultural jobs there! I asked him why he didn’t move to San Salvador so he could be closer. He explained that if he were to rent a place in the city, he’d have to buy all his meals, which is expensive. Currently, he’s able to bring his meals from home made by his wife. I asked him why his wife couldn’t move here with him. It turns out that his wife takes care of his mother-in-law who is too old to be uprooted. He said he’s simply thankful for a job he loves! Then, he explained that he was also grateful that his cement block home was safe from the flooding, unlike some of his family members whose is made from adobe. Interestingly enough, there wasn’t a trace of sadness, despair or self-pity in his story instead it was told in a matter-of-fact way with a smile. After satisfying his curiosity by answering a comparable amount of questions about my life, I left with promises to return with more parcels so that we could visit again!

Joy Journal 10/09/11

I kept a Joy Journal for many years and while it was the hardest days when I found it most valuable, it was always extra fun on the good days. Today was simple but full of goodness!

*Successfully skyped with Ezekiel over in Nigeria despite many obstacles with his internet connection…it was so good!
*Ran in a 6.45km (why set a distance when you can set a route and calculate the distance?!) race commemorating Chinese (Taiwanese) Centennial Independence celebration.
*Got cinnamon rolls across the street from the bakery and enjoyed them with a delicious cup of coffee and a friend’s company for breakfast.
*Perused recipes and found a yummy one for shrimp jambalaya and cream cheese brownies, wrote down the ingredients and actually grocery shopped for them!
*Bought ginger for the first time! :)
*Saw and purchased a pen in the grocery store like the one I had found on the ground in the parking lot when I was teaching in Clinton and LOVED!
*Made a scrumptious smoothie for lunch out of all the almost spoiled fruit that had built up in my freezer…adding orange juice was the trick!
*Went outside to grade papers out in the landscaped park on the school’s campus not sure where I was going to sit in the wet grass and randomly came across a lone folding chair!
*As I was sitting outside enjoying the nature, I realized I could HEAR the ground soaking up the water from the rain a few hours prior. It was SO COOL!
*After a sufficient amount of grading, I was able to finish the book I'd been reading for a while!

…and to think that the day isn’t even over yet! :)

Journey to Antigua

A group of 8 of us from the complejo took off right after school on Wednesday, September 14th for a 4-day weekend trip over Salvadoran (and Guatemalan, Honduran, and Nicaraguan) Independence Day to the frequently-referenced Central American gem of Antigua, Guatemala. After a late and frazzled arrival to the bus station, we spent the next 5 hours relaxing in the top level of double-decker first class bus (quite a bit different from the Greyhound experience my mom and I shared in Tampa Bay, FL many moons ago)! I felt like a little girl exploring all the amenities unique to a first-class experience like a leg-rest and more refreshments than I had on my last 5 domestic flights combined. It was exciting!

Yet, as I looked out the window, we passed many little village-like towns with zinc roofs and fences patched together with a sundry of materials ranging from planks to bushes to more zinc. Women clad in colorful aprons cooked pupusas along the side of the road while the ever-present stray dogs wandered around scouring the ground for any stray scrap of food that they could conjure. Outside little corner stores sat clusters of men engaged in menial conversation wiling away the eve of independence. Occasionally, groups of predominantly teenage boys ran along the side of the street carrying a stick affixed with a coffee tin containing a burning candle invoking Olympic torch images.

As we arrive in sprawling Guatemala City, soon there is a McDonald’s every other block interspersed with Taco Bell and Pizza Hut, expansive malls and towering movie theaters. We are dropped off at a 5-star hotel where we are supposed to meet a shuttle to take us the last 45 minutes to Antigua. It’s not there. Our phones are supposed to work in Guatemala, but they don’t. Eventually, the 8 of us get into two beat-up Toyota Corollas with all our luggage and anticipation of a great weekend ahead!

We finally get out of the bright lights of the city and are cruising along a hilly and windy road presumably through gorgeous, mountainous landscape. However, it was about 10:00pm in the middle of the Guatemalan countryside, so views were essentially non-existent. To me, in the U.S., hill, windy and dark means to drive slowly and cautiously. To a Guatemalan taxi driver, it means barreling along at higher than cautious speeds in hopes to get your 4 gringo passengers to their destination as quickly as possible so you can collect your money and go home. Unfortunately for the driver, he hit a ginormous pothole at going unreasonable speeds. All of a sudden, we knew something was wrong, but he continued on. In our less than perfect Spanish, we suggested pulling over to inspect the damages. As the driver and our male representative got out to observe, it was discovered that we had not one, but TWO flat tires on the passenger side. Newsflash: a car only has one doughnut! Luckily, we were caravanning with the other taxi and could use theirs. However, it was a one-way road, so he couldn’t come back to us. We had to drive another few miles to reach our second doughnut, but it was quickly changed and we giggled about the adventure as we continued on our way innocently thinking that our perils were in the past!

As we were coming into the outskirts of Antigua, our front seat passenger shouted out “tumelo” [speed bump]. No sooner did she alert the driver than we totally bottomed out and lost the function of our transmission. The poor driver tried to continue on, but the car just kept getting slower and slower no matter how much gas he tried to feed it. Eventually, we were waiting on the side of the road for the first taxi to find our house, drop off the other four people and come back for us. We eventually made it to the BEAUTIFUL house that we had rented at a ridiculously reasonable price and were able to smile about the circuitous route we had taken to arrive. The journey was one, big, confusing juxtaposition of developing world meets modern world provoking thoughts and questions that bring me a blissful kind of joy and continue to addle me three weeks later!

"Louie, Louie"

Part way through the “Antigua Cuscatlan” course on our weekly Saturday morning run, my complejo running crew and I were detoured from the normal route when we happened upon a marching band that appeared to be preparing for a parade. As we rounded the corner, it became apparent that this was more than a parade. It was the inaugural event of a ginormous marching band competition. We decided to stop and soak up the spontaneous culture that had suddenly immersed us.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera with me because there were definitely some photo-worth images to capture. I’ll do my best to paint them for you:

-Swarms of baton girls in short, short, short skirts, stiletto boots up to their thighs, thick makeup and hair as long as their skirts were short.
-Groups of girls in traditional Salvadoran dress that danced out front
-Bands composed of half percussion, a quarter trombones and a quarter trumpets-80% male
-Many of the girls in the band still marched in heels!
-First song that the first band played as they started to march, “Play that funky music white boy” (I believe this would be an appropriate opportunity to use the term ironic.)

In the midst of pounding drums, semi-straight lines and marking time the marching band aficionado in me, which typically lies dormant, was activated. Suddenly, I was dying to know if these bands did actual field shows or simply marched in a multitude of festivals and parades. After repeatedly musing aloud to my running companions, I decided to go up to one of the directors and ask in my more stilted than usual Spanish. (I may have been more fluid had I prepped myself with the words “show”,”perform”, and “parade”, however I’m confident that my gesturing and descriptive skills have improved dramatically since arriving in El Salvador. I sometimes feel like it’s like a never-ending game of Catch Phrase!) I walked away about 60% sure that he understood me and replied that they do perform shows.

Later that afternoon, I made an outing of walking to the store to get some pots and pans and was pleasantly surprised to find that they DO in fact perform shows. In fact, the competition was taking place in the parking lot! After my shopping, I was able to stand under the portable canopies to watch for about 10 minutes (before darkness forced me home) and see one band do most of their set which opened with “Louie Louie”. It brought a smile to my face that even though I may be in El Salvador, marching bands still love “Louie, Louie”! I’m not sure how they were able to create their formations with no marks on the parking lot, but they did! A fellow spectator informed me that this was the premier competition for the entire country and that parking lots are their typical performance venue. While I wouldn’t characterize the performance as in-tune, in-step or polished, I would describe it as earnest, passionate, and enthusiastic and a true treat to experience!

It may not feel like fall here, and I may not see any football games, but I did get my “Festival of Bands” fall marching band fix with a Salvadoran twist! :)

Unexpected Connection

I “should” blog about my wonderful Independence Day 4-day weekend trip to Antigua, Guatemala with a big group of friends. However, a significant amount of my brain power got spent grading papers this evening, so I’m going to share a shorter, simpler yet no-less-sweet story!

I entered through the gates at my running park this afternoon when I spotted an elderly gentleman with kind eyes and a warm smile sitting alone on a bench at the entrance. I had seen this man before and had pegged him as a potential Spanish conversation buddy since as he seemed interested in chatting (I could see it in his eyes!) and safe because I could totally outrun him if necessary! I considered aborting my run right then in favor of chatting, but decided that a half mile run to the park couldn't really be counted as a workout and would instead hope that he didn't leave before I was available to chat. Each lap I looked anxiously at the bench and was pleased to find that he was still there when I finished. As I walked over to his bench sweaty and out-of-breath, I started to wonder how to strike up a conversation with a random 85-year old Salvadoran man. (One would think I might have considered this during the 3 mile run, but I hadn’t.)

To my surprise and delight, once he saw me, he struggled to stand and greeted me as if we were long-time acquaintances! (Some might be concerned by this but I could tell he was amiable and good-intentioned.) We proceeded to have the most delightful conversation. He has a granddaughter who attends Escuela Americana, where I teach, and a few other grandchildren who are attending college in the US. He asked me where I was from and didn't accept the answer San Salvador. I wonder what gave it away?! Next, he asked where my parents and parents' parents were from. “U.S.” I replied repeatedly. When I finally understood he was trying to ask about my heritage, I tried to explain that some of my family was from Sweden, but was limited by my vocabulary and conveniently migrated my ancestors to Norway, which was more easily understood. I got excited when I realized I had German heritage as well AND knew the Spanish word for Germany! His heritage was Palestinian and he proceeded to whip out some Arabic temporarily yet thoroughly confusing my language-laden brain.

Our conversation was cut short by his driver beckoning him home because of the impending rain, so we shook hands and parted ways for today. Hopefully, we'll meet again another day to experience more bumbling Spanish, jewels of wisdom that only life experience can bring and the joy of building upon unexpected connections.

Quiquiriqui!

In case you haven’t brushed up on your Spanish recently, “quiquiriqui” is the sound that a rooster makes in Spanish. I haven’t heard that phrase since high school Spanish class and therefore was immediately transported back when I heard it tonight at the National Theater in San Salvador. Since it’s easier for my mind to travel while watching a play in Spanish, I had a moment of reflection thinking about how when I was in 9th grade learning animal noises. At that point, I’m confident that I had no idea years later I’d be living in El Salvador and watching a French woman perform a one-person rendition of Romeo and Juliet in the front row of the oldest theater in all of Latin America.

The evening was a delightful way to end the happy day of 09/10/11. It started out with a random group of 6 of us meeting up (with each of us knowing no more than 2 other people in the group) to go watch Romeo and Juliet be performed by a French group in Spanish at the National Theater downtown for $3! Though it was slated to begin at 6:30, Salvadoran time prevailed and the show started promptly at 7:10pm. We were able to spend that time getting to know each other: one person was from Malaysia and stopping through on his 18 month tour around the world, another was an aid worker who had previously lived in the Dominican Republic and Liberia and another had done a 3-month tour through southern and eastern Africa camping and living in a community…fascinating!

Before the show started, I wondered how much of the Spanish production I would understand but figured I would probably be better off in Spanish than Shakespearean English. I concluded that I was able to understand about 75% of the Spanish being spoken. It was made harder by the fact that the woman was French and had a unique accent, but that handicap was balanced out by the fact that we were sitting in the front row and I was able to see her lips moving (and a lot of spit!) which helps a lot.

Once the show got underway, I quickly realized that the play was going to be completely different from anything I could have ever imagined! It was essentially a one-woman production who played all characters but had two side-kicks primarily for setting and musical purposes. The lighting, props, and staging displayed incredible ingenuity and creativity. During one interlude, I watched incredulously as they turned an accordion, bass clarinet and saxophone into a sultry trio. Later, she portrayed both sides of a jousting match between Tybalt and Mercurtio and seamlessly conveyed both sides of the stabbing. In the final act, she depicted mourning Romeo stabbing himself next to “dead” (ragdoll) Juliet. As he died and Juliet came back to life, the dress from the ragdoll was transferred to the actress becoming conscious Juliet and inanimate Romeo. It was powerfully and imaginatively done.

The production held my attention in an enjoyable way and was certainly one of the most unique performances I’ve ever seen regardless of language or location! The Carolyn who learned animal noises in 9th grade Spanish had no idea that nearly 15 years later that knowledge would enable me to enjoy play in El Salvador in a more complete way (I was able to laugh along with the crowd at “quiquiriqui”, which definitely wasn’t true at other points.) I wonder what I’m learning today that will somehow enhance a life experience 15 years from now. What an exciting potentiality!

Community-Aided Cooking

In the complejo, I’m surrounded by many people who cook exciting recipes with high-quality ingredients in a well-done manner. This factor coupled with seeing homemade pizza as multiple peoples’ lunch inspired me to make my foray into cooking here in El Salvador. Friday after school while I was in the grocery store, I made a mental list of the things I would need to make homemade pizza without actually consulting any recipes (not recommended) and ended up with Bisquick for the crust, spaghetti sauce for the marinara and a nice variety of veggies and cheese for the topping. I felt confident that I had the ingredients necessary to produce homemade pizza!

I stopped by friend #1’s house who happens to be a foodie and mentioned that I was attempting pizza crust from Bisquick and while she was skeptical, she googled if it was possible and realized that there’s a recipe online, therefore doable! When I arrived home, I realized that I didn’t have a pizza pan, so I had to go over and borrow one from friend #2’s house (I’d bought a brownie pan and she’d bought a jelly roll pan to share!). As I began to measure out the 3 cups of Bisquick, I realized that I didn’t have any measuring cups, but I channeled my Nigerian skills of estimating amounts from a drinking glass and pressed on. After pressing the somewhat biscuit-like dough (surprise, surprise!) into the pan, I reached for the spaghetti sauce and realized it was a can which needed a can opener, so I went next door to neighbor #3 for a can opener and was informed I should be using tomato paste instead (which I may have known had I consulted a recipe before purchasing ingredients). I decided to borrow a little oregano and call it pizza sauce! They were leery about this Bisquick/spaghetti sauce pizza, but I assured them with forced confidence it would be good.

After loading the pizza up with green and red peppers, onions, mushrooms, olives and plenty of cheese I actually convinced myself it was going to be good. To my satisfaction, as I took it out of the oven, it smelled heavenly! Now, the crust was a little on the biscuity side, but it was delicious! I’m already thinking about different toppings I can use on my next one and how to maybe try a real flour crust. Nevertheless, I’ll proudly bring my pizza to lunch tomorrow to display the fruits of a community endeavor. While it may lack authenticity, it is seasoned with the joy of the process which couldn’t be more delectable. :)

(I now have accumulated quite a list of both foods and cooking utensils to aid in the success of the next endeavor!)

Making a Difference

My new students’ parents are CEO’s, surgeons, politicians and important people in general. My students at my most recent school had parents who were often in jail, looking for work or working 3 jobs to put food on the table. While the former position was often more challenging, it was very satisfying to know that I was building relationships and educating students (or at least trying to) who were often overlooked, ignored or forgotten. In my new job, I was initially struggling with the fact that my students’ families here are ridiculously wealthy and I was no longer needed. In fact, I am teaching students that are the children of the Salvadoran elite. They have drivers, nannies and maids. However, over the past month, I’ve come to realize that my students here have more in common with my students living in poverty than I initially realized; many of their parents are not around. These students are looking for love, attention and acceptance from anywhere they can find it. They may be more polite in their approach, but many of them are just as needy for approval. Absent parents due to working 3 jobs or multiple month-long business trips abroad produce similar results only one is masked with material possessions.

Making a difference last year may have meant encouraging a student not to get into any physical altercations in the evenings or convincing a student that stealing really isn’t the best way to get what they need. Making a difference this year might mean impacting someone so that they are compelled to make environmentally-friendly or socially-conscious decisions when they inherit the family fortune or become president of El Salvador. Believe it or not, the former is easier for me to stomach in my “making a difference” mindset. It’s hard for me to recognize that the latter is valuable and important as well and not just making myself feel better in a cush situation. In fact, in the end, these students could end up having a really influential impact on the most vulnerable members of society based on the decisions that they make. Teaching them well means hope for the powerless (hopefully)!

A Driver for Supplies?

As a science teacher who has taught in numerous locations, I’m all too familiar with the never-ending battle of acquiring lab supplies in a timely and convenient fashion while trying to minimize expenses for myself initially and the school ultimately. Here in El Salvador, my science department is extremely well-equipped with the most organized and complete chemistry storeroom (bodega) I’ve ever seen and a physics bodega that would leave most schools drooling. However, after deciding to introduce my new students into the world of Whole Class Inquiry (having the class work together as a unit to solve a problem) I realized that I had neither baking soda, vinegar nor a sufficient number of ziplock baggies to accomplish this task. Of course, I decided this the night before I wanted to do the lab, and it was dark meaning I could no longer walk to the store to purchase these materials due to safety precautions.

While going door to door in the complejo trying to scrounge up enough for my first period before being able to walk to the store, someone mentioned to me that one of the drivers at the school will be happy to take me during my prep period. I figured, great, but I’m sure they need a certain amount of advanced notice, or some special form completed or signature obtained before this could become a reality. To my astonishment, I emailed the Transportation Coordinator requesting a vehicle and driver to take me to the grocery store at 11:45 that day for lab supplies. He replied, no problem, the driver will be waiting for you at the front of the school. I was cautiously optimistic that this lab just might happen.

My cautious optimism transitioned to unabashed giddiness when I came down the stairs from my classroom to find the driver there waiting for me, on time, with the door opened to greet me! Jorge, the driver, questioned me about where I needed to go and what I wanted to buy. Thankfully, I’d made note of the packaging from the baking soda to know that it was carbonate in Spanish so I was able to tell him that. But the process of me trying to remember the Spanish word for vinegar, resulted in Jorge being under the impression that I needed to by either wine or alcohol which didn’t seem to concern him in the least. After zipping around the grocery store in the most efficient manner, we determined that the first place didn’t have enough baking soda, so we bought what they did have and went on to a second location to complete the expedition. Jorge and I had a great conversation and got to know a lot about each other during this 40 minute excursion. The whole time I was practicing my Spanish and he was practicing his English and we definitely helped each other out when we got stuck!

When we returned to the school, Jorge helped me carry the 4 gallons of vinegar up to my classroom and I tipped him as is customary in the Salvadoran culture. Not only had he been a great driver and efficient store guide but we also had great conversation that was mutually beneficial for our second language acquisition! I proceeded down to the high school office where I was able to put my name and “Science Department” on the receipt and give it to the secretary and supposedly that’s all I need to go to get repaid. The efficacy of this last part of the process remains to be seen, but all the previous steps pretty much rocked my world, and I’m tickled to report that after the whole surprisingly simple process, the lab even went well! :)

Folded Underwear

Anyone who knows me at all knows that cleanliness and tidiness are not my strong suits. I’m not lazy; I simply have other priorities that seem to always trump these tasks (volunteering, working out, reading, spending time with friends, church activities, etc). It helps that I’ve been blessed with the ability to overlook clutter, dirt and disorder! Before now, I’d never considered actually getting a maid because my mess never really bothered me and therefore my monetary priorities were elsewhere!

Now, everything has changed! Here in El Salvador, having a maid is pretty standard once you hit a certain income level. Despite the pay cut I took from an Iowa teaching salary, I “qualify” for a maid. In fact, it’s highly encouraged within the complejo, where I live, to get a maid for one day a week seeing as most of these maids have been employed at the complejo for many years and this is how they support their families. The cost is $12 for the day, and I would be made to feel guilty NOT to do it! Tough choice, right?!

At first, I didn’t really know what to expect or request. After a month, here is what I’ve learned:
*She does my laundry once a week (my standard everywhere else had been every 3 weeks).
*She folds it and puts it away…and FOLDS my underwear!!! (NEVER happened in my lifetime).
*She changes the sheets on my bed once a week (you don’t even want to know my life before).
*She tidies my bedroom.
*She cleans my bathroom once a week (yeah…)
*She does any dishes that are in the sink or on the counter (here, I’m pretty good because otherwise ants rule the house)
*She cooks and chops anything I leave out and request.

It’s a magical experience AND I get to feel good that I am helping support a Salvadoran family. Wow. My maid’s name is Mila, and she is fabulous! I already love her because she speaks Spanish to me in a way I can understand and seems to understand my eager but often muddled Spanish. She is very sweet, and I’m excited to get to know her more over time!

PDA's

Personal digital assistant: When I arrived, I got a phone as soon as possible as communication is highly important. However, I definitely purchased the most basic phone possible for $25. It can call and text. Purposed served. All of my students own BB’s. Maybe BlackBerry’s (definitely googled the proper plural form!) are called that in the US and it simply wasn’t the lingo in Clinton or maybe it’s a Salvadoran thing. Either way, they’re connected, though thankfully, I haven’t seen any out during the school day…yet!

Public displays of affection: I’d never considered myself much of a fan while living in the US. I certainly don’t want to be walking around in public and made to feel uncomfortable by other people’s disregard for discretion. However, while I was in Nigeria (Jalingo), I took notice that couples NEVER showed any affection whatsoever. If two people were dating, talking in public was seen as pretty darn scandalous. In fact, even once they were married, couples were rarely seen interacting in public together. I thought holding hands seemed pretty benign but was told differently. This felt oddly cold to me.

San Salvador is a WHOLE different story! I’ve been running regularly at a park about 4 blocks from my house and sometimes feel myself blushing as I make laps around the thickly-forested 800m loop. Salvadoran culture wholly approves, from what I can tell, of public displays of significant affection. People are making out on benches, rolling around in the grass, and intertwined like pretzels and no one but me seems a bit bothered by it. It’s pretty crazy!

It’s interesting how different places can have such radically different social norms. While I can respect others’, mine still seem best to me! :)

Pure Bliss!

I finally had the opportunity to go downtown San Salvador to El Centro. My new friend/fellow science teacher offered to take me on the city bus for a downtown excursion to celebrate the starting of the new school year. Different people love different things. To me, riding the city bus with everyday Salvadorans, through normal streets into the downtown market area was pure bliss! I absolutely LOVED every second of it!!!

I gave the driver $.20, and I boarded and moving toward the middle where I stretched to reach the top bar. After 3 people had squeezed passed me moving toward the back, I realized that Salvadoran bus etiquette was to move as far to the back as possible so that as others boarded, they could enter more easily. Noted, I shifted down along the bar a few rows. Knowing that the buses are touted as “dangerous”, I made sure I was aware of my surroundings by taking an inventory of the people surrounding me: directly to my right a 40-year old woman in a maid’s uniform, sitting directly in the seat in front of me is a sleeping 50-year old woman and a woman with her greying hair in a braided ponytail with a maid’s uniform to match the one beside me. Two middle school-aged girls in uniforms that have an International School emblem are to my back and a man in a business suit is to my left. Hmmm…not to say that any of these people couldn’t have robbed me blind (of the $10 I had in my pocket), but I wasn’t feeling my safety overly threatened. In fact, as I did a once-over of the bus clientele, it was composed primarily of working class people coming home after an honest day’s work.

After having deemed my immediate surroundings safe, I proceeded to face out the side windows, and watch as I left my pristine, gated bubble of San Salvador and entered the less polished parts of the city. We passed a man washing the windshields of stopped cars, apron -clad women selling fruit to backed up traffic, and roundabouts being renovated into little concrete parks. There are crowded 4-story apartment buildings where I can see people standing outside on the porches sharing the days’ happenings across the railings and women making pupusas on every corner.

When we arrived at our destination, which happened to be essentially the end of the route, we disembarked and wandered into the beauty that is the center of the city. I finally felt like I was truly in El Salvador and I LOVED it! There were people selling fruits and vegetables from stands that were crowded in along the side of the road. People were selling random plastic piggy banks (probably made in China) along the side of the road. We stopped at my friend’s regular place to have a drink and were greeted with blaring music the great 90’s song “I Swear” (its only redeeming quality was that it was the Spanish version). We continued our stroll by the National Cathedral, National Theater, by the fruit market and the vegetable market, and along a few more various streets and through a random park where many people were hanging out appreciating Friday evening before we stopped at a small pupuseria. We took the open table and were quickly given our desired pupusas. While waiting for them to cool, we realized why the table directly next to the griddle was open, it was HOT! (Thankfully, I can withstand temperatures way beyond normal human comfort, so I wasn’t bothered.) After the pupusas arrived at a consumable temperature, they ended up being the best I’ve eaten in El Salvador, and we only paid $1 for all 4.

By the time we finished, it had become dark, so we boarded the much emptier bus back into our sheltered world of the complejo. Thankful that I had gotten a glimpse of the more middle-class Salvadoran existence, I began to reflect. While I respect and consider the numerous warnings that have been given me from Americans and Salvadorans alike, I also wonder how many people who share these cautions have actually ridden a city bus before? The second thought that crosses my mind is how many handily use the word “unsafe” in place of “uncomfortable, inconvenient, and distasteful”. While I don’t doubt that senseless acts of violence have occurred on the busses and downtown, I truly believe that senseless acts of violence can and do occur everywhere. I’m not about to go hang out in gang-ridden neighborhoods, but I’m also not ready to stay in areas where I only see guards and maids on the streets. Tonight gave me a taste of what is available in the city. It was delightful, and I can’t wait to discover more! :)

Where does El Salvador fit?

Within the field of education, we are taught to incorporate new concepts into the students’ existing schema. I feel like my first two weeks in El Salvador has been a constant process of trying to fit sights, sounds and experiences into what I know from living in a predominantly Hispanic culture in San Antonio, teaching at a relatively affluent school in Boerne, and living in the developing country of Nigeria. My current assessment of the small slice of El Salvador that I’ve experienced is that it definitely contains characteristics of all of those places.

Across the street from the complejo, there is a little strip mall that could fit into the La Cantera (upscale) area of San Antonio without any adjustments. However, still contained within my super-nice neighborhood, there is a woman with a small shop, located between a bridge and an upscale deli, selling various general store items under a piece of zinc that is held up with to bamboo shoots. Whoa…in which world am I living…one of apparent disparity.

In trying to conceptualize a continuum of development, there are many things to examine, but I feel the example that best illustrates this is to analyze the household tool of the broom. People in the US sweep with long-handled, manufactured brooms. People in Jalingo, Nigeria sweep with short, whisk brooms made from palm branches. People I’ve witnessed in San Salvador, El Salvador sweep with long-handled brooms made from palm branches.

By traveling to some of the villages outside of the city, I’ve seen a lot more buildings and infrastructure that I would associate with the developing world, which is honestly a lot more what I was anticipating. A small part of me is disappointed that the neighborhood where I'm living could be mistaken for a US city. However, upon further reflection, I’m going to embrace the reality that I can get amazing sushi with a Salvadoran twist, delicious Thai food and travel with Americans who are as excited about exploring as I am in addition to finding opportunities to immerse myself in Salvadoran culture, Spanish language and new native friends!

Great Day!

Great days can come in many shapes and sizes. Saturday was full of simple, yet delightful moments!

-Running around the city with 2 new friends…awesome downhill course for 2.25 miles, then about .75 miles of running practically straight up…great, fast workout!
-Best breakfast sandwich EVER: scrambled eggs w/ cayenne pepper, toast, avocado, colby jack cheese, and salsa (made even better in conjunction with Salvadoran iced coffee!)
-Finding this quote in a book I was reading and knowing my life is more complete having had it articulated in this way: “The place God chose for you is the intersection where your greatest joy and the world’s greatest need meet.”
-First venture out of the city to some artisan villages including Ataco…yay for villages!
-Driving through rolling, green hills and volcanoes filled with lush vegetation interspersed with clouds and sun
-Delicious shrimp shish kabob at a gastronomic festival (it was seriously called that!)
-Drinking a local beer for $1 (which to beer aficionados is lacking, but to me is less “beery” and therefore yummy!)
-Finding a bright, colorful and locally-made bracelet for $1.
-Speaking Spanish to all the locals that I could find (including sign language when necessary!)
-Finding a shop that was tailored to play on every one of my weaknesses: items were made by Salvadoran women to improve their economic situation using only natural materials for the fibers and dyes and everything was in greens and browns…I had to tear myself away and will be back!
-Seeing a rainbow during our drive home
-Chatting with a great roommate over dinner
-Sitting in my room, on the internet, listening to rain fall outside knowing I don’t have to wake up early!

Salvadoran Situation Specifics

I officially moved down to San Salvador, El Salvador on Saturday, July 23rd and have been settling in, acclimating, and adjusting throughout the past week. Many thoughts and reflections have been stirring in my mind, but in this first Salvadoran post, I’m just going to describe my living and working situation to provide some context for the impending ruminations.

I will be teaching predominantly 10th grade chemistry with one section of 11th grade physics at the Escuela Americana in San Salvador, El Salvador (www.amschool.edu.sv/easite). The students are going to be nearly all upper-class Salvadoran. The campus is HUGE, manicured with tropical plants and flowers everywhere. It’s maintained by the highest concentration of groundskeepers that I’ve ever seen.

I live in a compound, henceforth referred to as the complejo, which consists of 15, two-story structures: single apartments, townhouses, and family homes packed into a relatively small area, located within the security walls of the school’s campus. These house most of the American teachers. While the ages of the teachers span the gamut, I’m likening the complejo environment to dorm life for adults (little privacy, but lots of opportunity for socializing, which I love!) My townhouse that I share with a roommate has a kitchen, dining room, living room, 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, back porch and enclosed back yard teeming with foliage all within a 7 minute walk from my classroom. It’s wonderful!


Overall, I’m really excited about these next two years! The future promises new challenges, rewarding experiences and ventures different from anything I’ve seen thus far. :)

Time

Time is the great equalizer. We all get the same number minutes in an hour and the same number of hours each day and the same number of days in a week. Race, religion, socioeconomic status doesn’t matter. We are all given the same amount of time in a week! However, it’s kind of incredible how the perception of that time changes depending upon what is occupying that time. To say that my last two weeks have been a whirlwind would be somewhat of an understatement.

Two weeks ago today (Friday), I was in a public transportation van traveling from Jos back to Jalingo so that I could attend graduation at JSS. Time crept along as I stared alternatively at my phone and at huts as they whizzed by waiting enter a village to get cell phone service and could text. (I’d already finished the last book I’d brought along and everyone around me was sleeping!)

Time seemed to miraculously shift into warp speed as I tried to maximize the last 36 hours spent with one of my best friends in the whole world before being oceans a part for an indefinite period time. There’s an axiom that states the length of a minute depends on what side of the bathroom door you’re on. I can attest that this holds true based on a 36-hour scale as well since I spent the following 36 hours between airports!

Today, I am sitting in a hammock in my backyard in El Salvador watching bright-yellow birds flit about landing on various tropical, flowering plants, listening to the new mixture of birds and bugs that will soon feel like home. Time has returned to a more relaxed pace from the frenzied speed that it traveled during my 3-day layover in the US. I’m hoping that my perception of time over the next two weeks settles into a new normal. To continue on in the manner of the previous two weeks would inevitably result in metaphorical whip lash!

Bananas!

Bananas…a simple fruit, yet somehow they were able to represent so much more in my hyper-reflective and emotional state that I was exhibiting during my 2 days of travel home from Nigeria. In Nigeria, bananas were small, green or black in color found in large bunches often looking less-than appealing and often acquired by happenstance-chance yet tasted soft, sweet, extra-banana-y and delightful…and people never eat just one!

While sitting in the Amsterdam airport, a cute couple in their early 70’s, presumably from Scandinavia (based on the language in which their newspaper was written) carefully took out a bag of 4 large, perfectly yellow bananas. Each took one and then they put the remaining 2 back in their bag for a later time. I feel these bananas illustrate a bigger truism. Many things in Nigeria aren’t packaged as attractively, planned as calculatedly or carried out with as much restraint, which can lead to frustrations, disappointments and no bananas when one wants them, but when the little boy clad in a torn shirt and flip flops walks by with a tray of bananas on his head just as late afternoon hunger begins to gnaw, those bananas couldn’t taste any more divine!

Contract Marriage

Many misconceptions exist amongst Nigerians about how life is in the US that I blogged about when I was here before, but the one that comes up the most often is contract marriage. Ezekiel defined it to me at some point during the last two years as when two people enter into a marriage with an agreed upon ending point. While I have made the common observation that divorce is prevalent in the US, I was confident that contract marriage didn’t take place, and I confirmed that in Iowa, it’s illegal!

Nonetheless, it comes up often. Most notably, I was in church on Sunday and the pastor talked about it in his sermon and Ezekiel had to practically hold me back from jumping out of my seat shaking my head and finger emphatically that it wasn’t true! The pastor was intelligent, articulate and seemingly exposed, so I decided it was my responsibility to go talk to him after service to tell him how much I’d learned and clarify the misunderstanding. He was a good sport and verified that he watches many international films and news broadcasts and therefore continued to argue that contract marriage was a reality. Finally, he acquiesced and promised to correct his mistake next Sunday. I told him that many impressionable and educated minds were being misinformed. I’m continuing to do my small part in helping to create a more accurate perception of the US.

Transition

I feel slightly strange about posting blogs about Nigeria while I have already transitioned to El Salvador, but I had already written some (using the archaic method of pen and paper in the airport since my computer stayed behind in Africa while I proceeded home to the US) and decided they should be posted, so the next few posts are a little dated, but still true!

My new adventure in El Salvador has started out great and will be chronicled soon! :)

Grad School in Jos

I traveled to Jos to visit my friend Laitu. Since she is currently taking classes for her Master’s Degree in Entomology and Parasitology, I had the opportunity to attend some of the lectures and get to know her course mates. I LOVED it! The pursuit of knowledge, debate of understanding combined with scholarly (and less than scholarly) camaraderie brought me right back to my grad school experience at Our Lady of the Lake University in San Antonio, TX! Despite somewhat compromised facilities there at University of Jos: limited electricity, old, crumbling buildings and no running water, the atmosphere on campus was comparable to that of any other campus I’ve ever experienced: alive, invigorating, enlightening.

African time strongly applies to Nigerian Universities. Laitu simply goes to school every day from 9-5 Monday through Friday and isn’t even sure what the schedule for her classes was initially scheduled to be. Professors show up and deliver lectures when the spirit moves them. As far as I can tell (and I’ve asked many of my Nigerian friends for insight) there is no rhyme or reason as to when they will have class. It’s no problem for me during these three days, but I’m certainly far from genetically African with respect to having a schedule!

I was lucky to be privy to a 2-hour class discussion teasing out the details of the parasite malairae that causes malaria. It was fascinating to hear the epidemiology (how it enters the body and physiological damage it causes while it is there), treatment and prevention techniques to control this disease that is haunting the inhabitants of Africa. My friend is doing her thesis project on Long-Lasting Insecticide Nets and their effectiveness in knock-down of mosquitoes within a variety of local regions. The level of passion, desire and dedication regarding the eradication of malaria was palpable within this class but it was mixed with a certain level of frustration regarding the mobilization of their citizenry to buy in to the multi-faceted control techniques presently available.

I firmly believe that the people of Nigeria are intelligent and becoming more and more educated each year. Increased education will further enlightenment and development. At most points, while I was in class listening and participating in the informal conversation regarding class topics and other random ones I wasn’t experiencing an exciting cross-cultural experience, I was engaging in stimulating and engaging conversation that could have just as easily been taking place at OLLU. It made me realize how much I miss the university environment. I love it and must return. Maybe I can take classes in San Salvador…hmmm…ideas! :)

Rules for Taking a Taxi

1. Magically know which car is a taxi and which car is a private vehicle. (Wrongly assuming a private car as a taxi is offensive, but taxis aren’t marked in any particular way.)
2. Know the proper hand signal to indicate where you are going and match it with the ones that occasionally come from the taxi.
3. Assess where you should sit according to the standard of 4 in back and two in front passenger seat.
4. Greet others as you are entering, but then don’t say much more.
5. If you are the 2nd person in from the passenger side of the back seat, you sit forward so that everyone fits.
6. Once you have seated, you don’t move regardless of how awkward or uncomfortable the position is.
7. Magically know how much it costs and have exact change ready the moment you get out. (You don’t get it out beforehand and you don’t get it out while you’re sitting there because it’s too crowded but you don’t wait until after you’re out because then you’re standing in the middle of traffic and holding the taxi up from moving.)

New Sandals...New Experience!

My running friend Philip told me he wanted to buy me some new sandals. I was resistant at first, but he was so insistent to bring me to a specific place and buy them for me, that I couldn’t say no. We took bikes to this place that was far off the main road and all areas of commerce and if I hadn’t been with a trusted friend I might have been a little apprehensive. However, when we arrived we entered inside and I encountered a small, functioning factory!

I met the owner and designer and he showed us around. Besides two sewing machines that were present, all the other cutting, forming and detail work was done by hand. There were approximately When I started asking the young owner about how he was able to get his small business going, I realized that I had met him back in 2009 when I had lived in Jalingo. I had broken the unwritten taxi rules and struck up a conversation with him and learned about his fledgling shoe factory. I had always retained a desire to check it out, but it had never happened. You can imagine my delight when I realized that my happenstance taxi meeting had come full circle with my visit to buy sandals! The cute sandals (they stretch my style) were made all the more beautiful when connected to the experience of being reunited with the designer and witnessing the production process. Thanks to Philip: the sandals are appreciated, but the experience is treasured! :)