Giving Zack a good cultural experience

My buddy Zack is here for a two week visit. He arrived to San Salvador from Santiago, Chile this past Thursday and we made it to my community Friday evening. Zack's Spanish is quite good and he's an experienced traveler so I wasn't too worried about him being a high-maintenence visitor, but I think the culture shock has been pretty significant. Having been here for over a year, I sometimes forget what a different reality I live here compared with my friends and family--even the ones who have or are currently living abroad.

Friday night when we arrived to my house, we dropped our bags off and went next door to visit my neighbors. Immediately the kids were holding Zack's hands and giving him hugs. The 5 year old girl sat down with her new set of paints to paint him a picture (what of, we still haven't figured out). Zack pointed out that the conversation--which for me felt like a pretty normal chat--referenced God every other sentence. From there we went to visit another family, more little kids, and a little fewer references to God.

Zack's real introduction into rural El Salvador was yesterday. We woke up and went to Catholic Mass. Though neither of us are Catholic, it's nice to be at the church where everyone is happy and singing and all dressed up. It's gives me a warm fuzzy feeling of community.

In the afternoon, Zack and I hopped onto the cattle truck loaded with men heading out to the soccer game. The game was held in a very rural community in the middle of huge fields of caña (sugar cane). I have always been warned that caña fields are dangerous, and I can now see why. To get to the game, we drove on a dirt road surronded on both sides by 10 feet tall caña plants. No houses, no police, and nowhere to go. If someone popped out to rob us (which happens and is the reason why the fields are dangerous) I'm not sure what we could have done.

Regardless, we made it to the field fine. This community might possibly be the poorest and most rural community I've seen so far in El Salvador, and the field reflected it. Sticks, tumbleweed, rocks, holes and dirt took the place of the grass that I knew in the states and am growing less and less accustomed to here in El Salvador. Still, all but two or three of the opposing teams players were shoeless.

Zack and I played in the second game and we made a pretty dynamic duo up top, at least for the first half. At the start of the second half I noticed that the people watching the game were all looking towards where the cattle truck. I couldn't see what they were looking at, but after a couple of minutes they called the game and we were told to grab our stuff and get on the truck. Apparently a couple of the guys we were with got drunk and started insulting some of the people they were drinking with. Those people then went back to their house to get their machetes and that's when we decided it was time to get out of there.

I've learned in situations like this that the best thing to do is read other people's faces; I know that if I see fear on other's faces then it's time for me to get nervous. Thankfully, no one was really too worried, so I wasn't either. Nonetheless, I've never had to end a soccer game early for fear of a fight with machetes.

The ride home is where Zack really got initiated into male Salvadoran culture. The two drunk guys responsable for our sudden departure, decided to start talking to Zack. Drunks are generally kept in check when they are harassing people, but these guys are giants and no one really dares to keep them in check. For the entirety of the 40 minute drive home these guys were telling Zack who in the truck was gay (which was just about everyone) who has a big penis (which were only the two of them) and that Zack should get drunk with them and find women to sleep with. Zack is probably the best sport out of anyone I know in situations like this. Still, I was exhausted just listening to them; I can't imagine having to try to respond to their ridiculousness.

Really though those guys are harmless, the machete incident was more bulla (noise) than action, and soccer was fun. It was a good day and a great introduction into rural El Salvador.