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!