My day with Chino

Chino is a nickname given to whoever has ‘slanty’ eyes. In our community we have 3 chinos—chino the bus driver, chino grande, y chino pequeno. Chino the bus driver is exactly what his name suggests, chino grande is the older and bigger chino on the soccer team, and chino pequeno is the younger and smaller chino on the soccer team. Makes you wonder why all nicknames aren’t so straightforward.

Let me describe a bit chino grande. The very first day I visited my community I played soccer in the evening. On a field full of sticks and rocks and other players wearing cleats and kicking at anything that moves, chino was running around barefoot, and not backing away from any challenge. At first glance, it was apparent that he was the biggest, fastest, and toughest one out there. Basically, chino is a badass and I was more than a little intimidated by him.

Chino is also one of the mainstays of the group of guys that drink at the corner by my house at night. He’s the one, who whenever he sees me outback washing the dishes, invites me to come over and sit around telling jokes and riddles with him. He’s the one who was offended that Eddie turned down his third helping of radish-onion salad.

In El Salvador, ‘confianza’ is king. ‘Confianza’ translates into confidence or trust. Distrust is so prevalent in this country, it is extremely important to develop confianza and to display it in any way possible—even if that means choking down your third helping of radish-onion salad (Eddie).

Now on to my day with Chino. On Wednesday I was doing some cleaning and other chores around my house. Around lunchtime I went out back to wash some dishes and Chino called me from next door. I went to talk with him, and he was dying to hang out—he was definitely bored, and maybe a little drunk. He suggested we go to Chepe’s house (Chepe is the leader/most respected person in the community) to get some eggs from some sort of fowl (smaller than a chicken, and the eggs look like quail eggs) Chepe keeps. I said sure, and we went over there. Of course I assumed that Chepe would be there, he wasn’t. The door was open, so we walked through his house, which I felt very uncomfortable doing without him being there, looked for some eggs out back in the coup—also uncomfortable—but didn’t find anything. He then asked if I like lifting weights. I said sure, so we walked to another person’s yard and did curls using the cement and steel weight laying out (this, isn’t uncommon and wasn’t uncomfortable—just going into someone’s house when they weren’t there seemed wrong).

After all of this, we walked back to my house. Chino wanted me to come with him to his house to watch a movie. A lot of the guys here get pirated porn movies and watch them, and I assumed that’s what he meant. I said, not today, I have to finish cleaning up my house. He said, c’mon, it’s a good movie, lots of action (which I took to mean sexual action) and again politely declined. Eventually, he mentioned Jackie Chan, and I realized it was a legitimate action movie, but I still declined. Finally, he started saying I don’t have confianza in him. He said he considers me a good friend; we play soccer together, tell jokes and riddles, hang out, but obviously I don’t trust him. I said that’s ridiculous, of course I trust him, but I want to finish my chores around the house. Of course he offers to help me so we can finish and go to his house. I accept, we finish, and we head out to his house.

The DVD player wasn’t working, so he put on some music to ask me if I liked it. First CD was Technotronics ‘Pump up the jam’ which if you have ever heard this CD (think early 90s) you will know it is fantastic and of course I liked it. Second CD was ‘musica romantica.’ So I’m sitting there with the biggest badass in my community listening to love songs and he’s watching me to see my reaction and whether or not I like the music.

From there, he asked me if I like bananas. I said yes, so we chopped down a banana tree (surprisingly easy, at least for him) so he could give me a branch with some 50 bananas on it and then walked back to my house carrying a 40 pound branch of bananas on my back.

The weirdest part of the entire day is that none of it was weird. I learned that people go through Chepe’s house all the time and he has no problem with it. That’s why he leaves his door open. The eggs he keeps in the coup in he back is up for grabs to anyone, and that’s why there were none. Sitting around listening to Spanish love songs, not weird either. And chopping down banana trees—just plain cool obviously.

This past weekend

Erich, a friend of mine who has finished his service, had his despedida (going away party) Friday night. I had a meeting with the development committee in my community Friday morning and was planning on taking the bus into the capital after the meeting.

First, let me write a bit about these meetings. The committee is a great group and they accomplish a lot in various cantons and caserios within the municipality. Also, the meetings never fail to be hilarious to me. In the December meeting I went to, people were talking about the exploitative ways of large corporations. Furthermore, they were saying, chain restaurants like Pizza Hut and Pollo Campero are overpriced and unhealthy. This, I could agree with, but of course they didn't stop there. Furthermore, they said, according to a study done in Costa Rica, pregnant mothers who eat at Pollo Campero run the risk of giving birth to a gay son, or a daughter that gets her period at a very young age. Yes, someone did actually say this. Myself and the two other volunteers at the meeting just looked at each other all with the same expression--'Did he really just say what we think he did?'

At the meeting last week, the man in charge went over the results of a survey that was given the previous month having to do with the upcoming elections. I am very pro-survey as a way of getting opinions from people who maybe do not speak up as much at the meetings. To give you all a proper idea of what types of questions the survey consisted of, I will give you an example. I think it was question 6: Do you want a peaceful or violent election? Amazingly, 100% of the people chose peace. Question 7: Do you want a candidate that wants to work with the Development Committee or one that will cut our funding? Now what do you think the Development Committee had to say about that? 100% in favor of a candidate who wants to work with them.

After the meeting I got a ride into the capital--which was awesome not having to take a bus--and I spent the night drinking too much and having a good time. I came back to my site Saturday afternoon to find that a note had been slipped under my door. Before even picking it up, I knew it was a love note. Only love notes, and usually those written by junior high or high school girls, are folded in such an impressively complex way. Needless to say I was flattered. These blue eyes get 'em every time.

Political Violence

Just a quick post, because I'm feeling a bit stressed with work I have to do.

Last Wednesday the mayor of Alegria (a very pretty pueblo up the mountain from me) was shot and killed along with a female collegue of his. It is pretty much assumed that his murder was political. He is part of FMLN, the leftist party. There's a ton of political activity going on right now for the elections at the begginning of 2009. Because of the eletion cycle, a number of municipalities will be voting on mayors and the entire country will be voting on the president, making these the biggest elections since the peace accords were signed in the early nineties.

It is feared that because there is so much at stake, the elections could turn violent. Ironically, I was at a meeting on how to prevent any political violence in our municipality when I found out that the mayor was murdered. Living in a canton, I am thankfully isolated from a lot of the most fervent political activity, and Peace Corps volunteers are prohibited from partaking in any sort of political activity, so there is no need to worry about me. It will all be very interesting I'm sure.

The real violence I have to worry about is on the soccer field (I know you can't hear it, but my voice just transitioned into a more optimistic, joking tone). In my most recent game, I was fouled a number of times and have a nice scrape on my arm to prove it. Also, the referee ended the game early because the opposing fans were on his case. They, of course, were not happy about this, so there was a bit of tension about what they were going to do. Guys from my community came out to stand next to the ref, just in case, but nothing happened...the other team and their fans piled into their pick-ups and went home. One of the men from our community then scolded us that you never leave a ref by himself if he might be in trouble--although there really wasn't any trouble. Also, I was told that I play too cleanly, and I need to push people around more in Salvadoran soccer than I might be used to. I'll let you know how that goes this week.

Transitions

I went home to Arizona for the holidays. As you might imagine, it was very nice to relax with family and friends with the comforts of nice beds, multiple couches, cable TV, and most importantly a fully stocked refrigerator and pantry that enabled me to gain 7 pounds in two weeks.

I have an amazing family, and it was wonderful to spend the holidays with them. Also, I got to see Nathalia after 7 months, and I guess that was okay too.

The hardest part about going home (both going home to Arizona, and coming back home to El Salvador--I have two homes) is the transition. Going to Arizona is much easier physically. There's air conditioning and heating, an abundance of cars that make for easy and comfortable transportation, good food, etc. However, emotionally, it was a bit trying. Through email and phone I know what is going on with family and friends back at home, but I still remain distant from it. I forget that loved ones are aging--my dog Dina especially :)--and everyone is going through their daily struggles, which to me, seem magnified when I only catch a glimpse of them for a short period of time.

Coming back to El Salvador, then, becomes even harder. At home, I begin to think that I could do a lot to help out my family if I were to move back to AZ. Of course that is not what they want, but sometimes it feels like that is what should be. Add those feelings with a 9 hour plane ride where my luggage was lost plus a 2 hour bus ride only to be greeted by a house full of dust, and emptied of food and clean clothes, and the trip home becomes daunting. Furthermore, having seen my family and friends, I no longer am able to distance myself from them--meaning my thoughts stay with them a lot longer after visits than after emails and phone calls.

However, I have now been back for a week and am feeling okay, so I think this transition is running about as smoothly as it should. It helps that the airline found my bags so now I have clean clothes. Even more than that, it helps that I have a tree to chop up with my machete this afternoon--definitely my favorite chore ever.

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.