This is my life...

With my recent visitor, I was able to catch a glimpse of my life in El Salvador through his eyes. I was eased into my current situation through ten weeks of training, which, I think, led to me overlooking some of the drastic changes I have undergone. What follows is a brief list of things that constitute my daily life, that to him were surprising. I hope you will either excuse or enjoy my attempts at humor.

I have chickens in my backyard from 4am until 6pm. I also, periodically, have tarantulas. I have learned that chickens eat tarantulas.

My next door neighbor has a huge pig tied to a rope in her backyard. Pigs are the most disgusting animals I have ever seen. Don’t let Disney fool you with Babe the talking, sheep-herding pig or Wilbur from Charlotte’s Web. This pig can’t speak except to squeal for food, and even spiders are disgusted by it. Rather than Charlotte writing “Amazing pig” in her web, I woke up the other morning with a message in a freshly spun web saying “Aren’t you hungry for some bacon? Please butcher this nasty pig for its delicious meat.”

A recent soccer game was stopped twice: the first time to ask the opposing fans with machetes to scoot back from the field, and the second time to shoo two cows off the field. In their flight, the cows ran directly at my friend Eddie, providing entertainment for everyone.

In a more recent soccer game, a ball that was destined to roll out of bounds hit a chicken and remained in play.

Last week I was invited to go hunting for rabbits, iguanas, and armadillos with some folks from my community. The plan was to leave in the middle of the night—six of us with one gun—wearing long sleeves and long pants so that the spiders and scorpions wouldn’t bite or sting us. Unfortunately, our little safari never came through…maybe next time.

Eddie plans on bringing his favorite Salvadoran greeting back to the States in its translated form. If you do not know Eddie and get the privilege of meeting him, you will get to hear “Edward Johan Powers at your service.”

Bolos (read drunks) have an uncanny knack for finding gringos in a crowd. During an AIDS awareness day in another pueblo, Eddie was spotted by the local drunk. He sat, staring at Eddie for 15 minutes straight, opening and closing his mouth but saying nothing and blinking his eyes incessantly. He then, without warning, flopped to the ground for a 5 minute nap, woke up and continued staring at Eddie. This was repeated three times consecutively.

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This is my second blog post of the day (a record for me) so make sure you scroll down to read the one below...it's the better of the two.

Big Ed's Post

So I asked my friend Eddie to write a post that I could put up on my blog...here it is in all it's unedited glory. (I'm actually reluctant to put it up, because I think he writes better than I do).
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The most important thing to know is that the people in Mike`s town are all incredibly friendly and they all like Mike a lot. Especially the doctor in the nearby town who is shamelessly pursuing him. But, it is not only the females who are enamored with Mike. The old men who carry machetes at all times are thrilled when Mike stops to talk to them. As are the little kids. Some of the guys on the soccer team like nothing better than for Mike to join them as they sit around, drink some painfully strong alcohol, and tell jokes. Mike has become very adept at handling all these situations, courteous yet distant with the doctor, very complimentary towards the old men, and patient with the young ones who have a knack for coming over as soon as you settle in the hammock. Sitting and telling jokes with the guys from the team is endlessly amusing, yet much more difficult than it sounds. Mike manages quite well, but I somehow ended up hurting some feelings by not laughing hard enough at jokes I didn`t understand and by refusing my third helping of tomato-radish salad.

There are many things that Mike may have already mentioned that are worth mentioning again, mainly the soccer games. The fields are lined with a couple hundred men with machetes, vendors selling pupusas, little kids lighting off extremely loud fireworks, and usually some cows or horses. The quality of play is not of the highest level, but is more than made up for by the environment. The opportunity to play for Mike in one game was incredible, even though due to some questionable referring and poor finishing I was unable to forever cement myself in the town`s lore. Perhaps even more enjoyable than the game itself are the rides to the away games. Everyone piles into the back of the pick-up trucks, all the guys make kissy noises at the girls, and you are treated to some rather spectacular views of the volcanoes and the ocean. There really are few things better.

Another point worth reiterating is the merits of hammocks. The purchase of a second hammock was a much needed addition to Mike`s shack. If you do visit, though, make sure you get the old one as Mike has yet to master the skill of successfully hanging a hammock.

It is not all sunshine and daisies in El Salvador though. The roosters and cows have a tendency to start making lots of noise at about 4 in the morning, and the 6 am bus likes to honk its horn loudly.The buses have a tendency to get really crowded and are not made for people taller than 5`6. Fortunately, if you are tall and don`t have very good balance the old ladies will give up their seat for you. It is also very hot and there is a lot of dust. The dust gets all over your clothes and you have to wash them by hand which is not very fun. I would recommend having Mike wash them for you as he has mastered that skill.

The trip was really quite nice. If you want to pretend you are in the Peace Corps without actually having to do it for two years, I would go visit Mike. Especially, now that he has a second hammock.

Youth Group Pizza

As I mentioned in the last post, Eddie and I spent the first three days of his visit getting ready for a youth group meeting that I had planned for that Saturday. Getting ready basically consisted of going door to door to invite youth to the meeting. This actually turned out to be a pretty exhausting endeavor as my community is pretty spread out. But it also turned out to be worth it. That Saturday I had about 16 kids between the ages of 10 and 16 (or so) show up in my backyard for a meeting. We sat and talked for about 30 minutes about what sorts of things they are interested in (taking day-trips, english classes, ways to make money). After the meeting, we walked to a neighbor's house who owns an outdoor oven and we baked pizza. Now, the most complex pizza either Eddie or I have ever made consisted of Prego tomato sauce, Boboli pizza crust, already shredded mozzerella cheese, and already sliced pepperonis. This experience turned out to be a bit different.

The day before, Eddie and I bought a ton of flour, yeast, two kinds of Salvadoran cheese, tomato sauce, and salami (in place of pepperoni). That Saturday morning we woke up early to make the dough while leaving ample time for it to rise. We were a bit worried that that yeast we bought was really baking soda and that the dough would never rise. Actually, we had a friendly competition on whose dough would rise more, but then we forgot which was which after leaving it out to rise. Eddie claims he won, but I'm pretty sure I did. Fortunately, the dough did rise (at least a little bit) and we were ready to make our pizza. The kids loved spreading the sauce and adding mountains of salami. Then, after my neighbor hacked down a tree with his machete to use as fire wood for his outdoor woodburning oven, we were ready to cook. Having no idea how long to cook pizza in a woodburning, outdoor oven, we guessed about 10 minutes and amazingly enough, it came out great...'Mejor que Pizza Hut y Dominos' according to some.

It was actually quite fun to make, and it was nice having Eddie there to help me. The idea is to start making pizzas to sell to fans at the community soccer games as a way to fund our youth group. That is if I can get the kids not to eat it all first.

Big Ed

My buddy from college, Eddie, flew in from Costa Rica to visit me last Wednesday. Since he wanted a taste of Peace Corps life, I put him to work immediately. The first three days he was here, we prepared for my first youth group meeting. This meant walking door to door through my community inviting kids to the meeting, buying ingredients to make pizza at the meeting, and lying on the hammock. Though that last one may not seem like a necessary chore to prepare for a youth group meeting, I have found that here in El Salvador, it is absolutely necessary to lie on the hammock in preparing for anything. And this meant buying a second hammock--one for him and one for me.

Eddie has been admired by numerous local women--his tall stature and blonde locks do him quite well here. He has also been recruited to play soccer professionally on my team. In fact, because I am recovering from a pulled groin, it was suggested that we replace my picture with his on my player's card so he can play the next game as me. I'm not going to lie, I was a bit insulted by this:)

Big Ed and I also celebrated Thanksgiving together (though a day late) and traveled to an island for two nights, and a Peace Corps party in the capital. But alas, all of these stories will have to wait for another entry in a few days.

Hope all is well.

Happenings 2...

I am writing here from the capital where I have been since Sunday evening (today is Tuesday) and will be until tomorrow. On Sunday, I went to my first (maybe ever?) Catholic mass. I had been feeling a little bit sick the night before, but I figured nothing God wouldn't be able to cure for me. About midway through the service I started feeling a nauseous (sp?) and decided it was a good idea not to puke inside of a house of the holy. I stood up and walked out the side door, got very dizzy, and promptly passed out against the wall of the church. Thankfully, my neighbor was out there making pupusas, noticed me quite quickly, and caught me and brought me over to a chair. After sitting for a while, I was able to regain my bearings and went home to rest. Later that day, I came into the capital where I have been ever since having tests and doctor's appointments. I have felt fine ever since Monday, but it's good to get everything checked out. I think it was just a virus that, combined with heat and a bit of sleep deprivation, got the best of me. Or it could have been the holy spirit that moved me. One of the two.

Another story...the best player on our soccer team can no longer play with us (at least not in the home games) because he stole someone's cell phone who lives in our community (the player lives in a different community), and will either be arrested or beat up if they see him.

I'm sure there's something else to write about, but my mind is drawing a blank, so I think I'm going to go eat at Quizno's and catch a movie--wait, am I in El Salvador? Gotta love globalization!!!

Happenings...

A few random anecdotes (not at all in any sort of chronological order)

Earlier this week, after playing soccer, I came home and went out back to shower. It was already dark, so I didn't bother wearing shorts and instead wrapped myself in my towel. Well, about halfway through my shower, I heard 'Buenas Noches.' I looked over to see an elderly woman with a plate of food standing by my back door. Not knowing what to do, I turned off the shower, wrapped myself in my towel, and with soap still dripping down my body, stepped out to talk with her. Of course this made for quite an awkward moment, but also a pretty nice one. She told me that she lives close and that she thought I might like some dinner. It's nice to be so well-taken care of here.

A couple of weeks ago, after a soccer game, I hung out in front of my neighbor's house with a few of my teammates and a few other guys as they all drank 'guaro' (moonshine) and made dirty jokes. I learned at least 10 different synonyms for various parts of the female anatomy--and most of them are the names of local food. Very educational.----That same night, I was asked how many women I would be bringing back to my house since I live alone. In this country, almost no one lives alone, and the fact that I do, in these guys' eyes, means I can have women over whenever I want. I told them I already have a girlfriend, at which point they very sincerely promised me that they would not tell my girlfriend, so it's really no problem. I explained to them, it's not a matter of her finding out, but rather I don't want to cheat on her. This, they could not understand and it got awkwardly quiet for a little bit. With nothing left to say I lifted my glass of water to their bottles of guaro and toasted 'salud.' Much hair-rustling and back-slapping ensued, and all was right with the world again. Ahhh, the boys.

Last month, as I mentioned in my blog, I was in charge of taking pictures for the independence day celebrations here. Independence Day, for the high school girls, becomes an excuse to wear short, cheerleading-type skirts as they march down the street in the parade. Actually, I'm not sure if it is an excuse for them to wear those skirts as much as it is an excuse for the men in charge to make them wear those skirts. Regardless, I think 50% of the male attendence at the parades can be attributed to girls in short skirts. Being in charge of taking pictures, then, becomes a precarious position for me. I know the girls want to see themselves in photos, but at the same time, I don't want to be associated with the men who came only to stare at the girls. I ended up taking very few photos of the cheerleaders. Well, of course, when we got the photos developed and I was about to show them to the teachers, a couple of the women teachers were teasing me saying 'Let's see how many photos Michael took of the cheerleaders.' Feeling pretty proud of myself at this moment, I was thinking 'Yes, let's see.' Well, after showing the photos, the same women teachers started teasing me saying 'So you don't like Latina women do you?' I guess that situation was one I just couldn't win.

Peace and love to all.

Soccer with the SWAT team

This past weekend, as the title suggests, I played soccer against the Salvadoran SWAT team. A couple of volunteers randomly met the sargent of the SWAT team and got to talking about soccer. They mentioned we have a Peace Corps team, and the sargent mentioned they have an 'Elite Forces Team'. The Peace Corps team is open to any volunteer who wants to show up and run around a bit, so of course we are not very good. However, considering whom we were going to be playing against, we put together our own elite, invite-only team.

So on a very rainy Saturday, I took a bus to Estadio Cuscatlan in the capital. Here, I met up with the rest of my team and we waited to get picked up by the po-po and transported to the game (we didn't get to play in the stadium, unfortunately.) After about 30 minutes of waiting, up rolls three police pick-up trucks, and one dark SUV with darkly tinted windows. I hopped in the back of one of the pick-ups, and we were off. After driving about 15 minutes, I realized that even though all of the officers were dressed in soccer shorts and t-shirts, they were all still packing heat...either carrying their guns nonchalantly, or they were strapped to their inner-leg. I started to wonder if they would be playing with their guns, then I started to think maybe we should make sure they win.

We got to the field (read mudpit) and there were about 15 guys dressed to play, and another 10 in full uniform which includes a huge, militaristic-looking gun in their hands and another, normal handgun at their hip. After lots of jokes, lots of pictures, and lots of goals, we won 7-3 and they did not shoot us--I would say that makes it a success.

Now, seriously, these guys were really cool. Very friendly, interested in what we were doing, and good hosts. They are the ones who do raids on gang houses, and when you see pictures in the paper of arrests, they are holding the criminal and they are wearing black ski masks so they don't have to worry about retribution. Kind of a weird experience talking to people whose lives are full of violence and danger...they are soldiers basically, and they way they can compartmentalize their work from their lives is amazing to me.