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!