Right now I am in the midst of a debate, whether to keep the blog site or not. . . The blog was mainly for communicating everyday life in El Salvador for friends and families to relate. I now see the majority of my audience on a more regular basis. Do I rehash conversations we already had? Will they keep reading? Will my life be as interesting and fresh, filled with adventures daily as in El Salvador? I am not sure. I hope so. But bogged down with school and work will I have the time to commit?

One reason I am slightly hesistant about continuing on is one of the last lessons I learned in El Salvador. And that has been punctuated even here. People are watching. And some people don't have good intentions.

Three weeks before leaving our community one of Kris and I's dearest friends was kidnapped. She was an amazing young community leader (28 years old) who had such potential and strength. She was the only physical therapist in our town! She raised over $10,000 for poor people's hospital bills by doing telethons. She was inspiratonal. I had thought many times that I wanted to be like her and become more involved in my future community in the States. But . . . she was being watched, rather hunted.

At 12:30p.m. ten minutes after talking to me and just after stepping out of a local eatery bringing a take-out lunch to her seven year old daughter she was kidnapped at gun point by two large men. They drove her off in her car. Rumors swirled as no news was heard from her. Incredible rumors, stupid rumors. I still don't know the truth. I was devestated and found it hard to believe. I still do. On the day of Kris's and I's close of service, i was sitting in the Medical Doctor's office and received a call from one of our friends. Our kidnapped friend was dead. She had been dead for 12 days, her body, severely decomposed was found in the far off woods. My mind tried not to whirl to tortures she endured or the reason for her death. She was obviously innocent. She was friendly, loving and nuturing. She had absolutely no enemies.

Our friend had obviously been watched. The kidnappers knew her schedule and how to find her. I, myself became paranoid. I didn't want to leave Kris's side and I am sure as you noticed stopped blogging for fear of being watched.

El Salvador is such such such a violent country. They destroy themselves from within, with such a high murder rate and violent acts rate it is disgusting and staggering. How can a people be so violent? And why?

In my mind arriving in the States would be like sanctuary. Nothing goes wrong here. I wouldn't have to see such daily violent acts and hear horrible accounts of murders. I could sink into the loving comforting arms of my family. Which I have done. But the United States isn't innocent either, as the day of Kris and I's fifth wedding anniversary reminded me. For our wedding anniversary Kris and I went to a local beach as it was a sunny gorgeous seattle day. We strolled along and found ourselves on a crowded fishing pier, watching the sun glinted lines pull up their proud catches. As I was watching a ferry pull into dock I glanced to my right. Next to me was a man taking pictures with his camera phone of three pretty little girls in shorts. The girls were obvlivious to what this man was doing. I nudged Kris and told him to watch. He was obviously taking picture of the little girls as he held the phone up to his eyes, cupped his hand around the phone to make sure he could aim the camera and pointed downward at the girls not upward for a landscape photo of the ferry. I felt so violated for the little girls. I wanted to propel myself between him and the little girls or at least yell out that he shouldn't take pictures of little girls. The family was so oblivious as they enjoyed their afternoon sight gazing. Those little girls were being watched and exploited for not good reasons. I felt wronged and upset and disgusted. I wanted to tell the family what just happened. But I didn't do anything. I just fumed at how unfair we are to each other. The man walked off with his fishing pole prop, no tackle gear, clutching the phone tightly in his pocket. He had a weird way about him.

After reading my friend Charity's recent blog about the meyers briggs personality types, I was trying to remember mine.. . I knew I was something IN_J but wasn't sure. So I went to the blog site and did it. And it is true. . . i ended up being an INFJ. Which the three times I have taken the test have ended up being. I feel it describes me well. I always like personality quizzes, they feed my ego :) the link is at the bottom of the blog entry if you want to try.

You Are An INFJ

The Protector

You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity.

Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is.

You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience.

You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them.

In love, you truly see relationships as an opportunity to connect and grow.

You enjoy relationships as long as they are improving and changing. You can't stand stagnation.

At work, you stay motivated and happy... as long as you are working toward a dream you support.

You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.

How you see yourself: Hardworking, ethical, and helpful

When other people don't get you, they see you as: Manipulative, weak, and unstable

What's Your Personality Type?

After a quick trip to Panama, we are back in the United States of America. It has been an interesting experience punctuated with feelings of excitement and of oddity. Every morning we are the first to get up out of our family rising at five or six a.m. I find myself straining to hear the chickens or the random drunks who punctuated our wakings everyday. Instead there is blissful silence. Even though Seattle is experiencing "warm" weather and I see the majority of people decked out in tank tops, shorts and sandals I foraged for sweaters and pants. But really, it is a bit chilly here. We are no longer in the Land of Fire. Throwing toilet paper into the toilet seems like a sin, and I utter a forgive me and hold my breath as I flush, hoping for no cloggage. I have to tell myself this is normal. As I walk down store aisles a surge of "this could be all mine" runs through me. No rooting around for a special treat of cheddar cheese or soy sauce. I can now have it at any whim. I like how eating everyday food here seems special and new to us. We encountered an ordinary can of black olives and ate it with relish.

And everything is so big. At the airport I asked for a large diet coke fountain drink. They handed me something equivalent to what you could possibly bathe a baby in. It was gigantic. And cars are big. And I find I stare at all the white people. Look at those blue eyes or their red hair. Man, that guy sure is tall. I don't get stared at allll the time anymore. I like that. I have to bite my tongue as I pass through the threshhold of houses or stores so I don't belt out a loud "Buenos Dias" or "Permiso".

It has been wonderful to be home, with family, joking around and understanding all the intricacies that take place. There is after all, no place like home.

This is my 102nd posting on my blog. I made it over a hundred entries. Not too bad. I have a lot more to say. . . but won't. I will leave that for later. Wanted to let those I know who read the blog that I won't be posting entires for awhile. Will be a tad bit busy. . .

As we have been in San Salvador for Kris´s foot, I have found a deal of a lifetime. In a small back alley lies a store that sells miscelleanous goods. As we were passing by on the bus I noticed that they had beautiful scarves in all different colors of the rainbow. They were beautiful and reminded me of a scarf that Kris´s grandma bought me that is one of my absolute favorites. I hiked back after shuffling off the bus and discovered they were only six dollars! I got a cream colored 100% CASHMERE shawl/scarf for $6. I am so pleased I am beaming!

After two years of fighting to build cheaper more effective rabbit cages. . . we did it this past thursday! and everyone was so impressed at how easy there were to build, how sturdy and effective. $30 for three rabbit cages. What a bargain! And they will last forever and they are cleaner and safer for these rabbits than our existing cages. . . the building went well considering it was me and "the boys" they didn't really want to follow the design but wanted to make it up as they went along. i was stubborn and told them of the importance of having a design The rabbit cage building team

Haunnah holds her own

Rabbit cages complete, the teacher and Haunnah are proud.

The hanging of the rabbit cages in our rabbit farm

Happy rabbits in their new home

I love dogs. I love dogs so much I can now not imagine what my life would be like without a dog. I have already picked out what kind of dog I want when we arrive to the States. An English bulldog. I have its name picked out and everything.

A bulldog would be perfect for Kris and I. Here is what they say about the breed.

Description: Gentle, friendly, and adoring, with a mischievous dose of stubbornness, the English Bulldog is incessantly loyal to its family. It usually gets along well with other animals, is particularly fond of children, and does best indoors. Highly spirited as a puppy, the English Bulldog grows up to be a calm adult. The breed prefers not to exercise, can easily overheat, and is prone to drooling and snoring.

PERECT!

Haunnah gets excited petting a puppy in El Sal

Yesterday afternoon, as I was reading the goofy tale, Marley and Me, at our house on the back patio, I heard the church bells. And I suddenly knew someone, or a Catholic, in our pueblo had died. The church bells here in our pueblo communicate to us at all times and I have come to understand their langage.

The Catholic church rings its bells for many occasions, but I have come to understand that at 4pm on Thursday afternoon, they will always ring a warning bell to let the pueblo know that mass is about to happen at 4:30. At 4:30 the ringing is frantic and that is when you know the mass is starting and when walking down the street you can see people fleeing their houses as they adjust skirts and head mantillas and tuck in shirts.

The same is true on Sunday morning. 8am is a warning bell. 8:30 frantic ringing to let people know this is it. Mass has started.

Sometimes we will here a series of four rings. That means they are celebrating a random saint and fireworks are sure to follow. I hit the deck and dive for my ear plugs. The Catholic church in El Salvador is surely the largest buyer of fireworks in the world. There are lots of saints to celebrate and lots of fireworks to let off in their glory.

Five solemn rings means a death. And you know if you are at the center of the pueblo you are sure to find a group of people waiting with a pickup to load the coffin in. The group usually follows behind chanting prayers and singing songs accompanying the person to their burial. It is sad to see. and it happens verrry often here.

As I was at my friend Liliana´s house, who lives right across from the catholic church and where she receives the best acoustics of the church bells, I happened to look at the man who rings them. I was always curious who recieved the privilege of such communication. As I twisted my shoulder back to get a better look, I saw the church bell, bounce off the wall and hit the little old church bell ringer squarely in the chest. The ring abruptly stoppped and the little old man was left without air in his lungs, gasping. I was the only witness. Liliana was in the kitchen, kids were playing basketball, people were driving by, old men were sipping soda. And they looked up after the fact. But I was the only witness in the whole pueblo. I couldn´t believe it. I for once was an authroity of pueblo whats up and who is in the know. I called out to the police who were driving by and they stopped and climbed up to the tower, a small crowd of onlookers gathered horrified. The old man was fine, just shaken and i would have to say a little tramautized. How does a huge church bell fall? And who would want to ring it again?

As I was taking a frigid bucket bath to start my day, I mused over all the company in which I share the bathroom and the incidents that take place there. Our bathroom is outside next to a field of trees. It is open air (which is a blessing in this country (open drain holes in a closed in room do not make for fresh smells.)) so that means whoever can come in and entertain us. . . Like in the picture. I trekked my way outside to brush my teeth before going to bed, I found a gaurd by our toothbrushes, this little frog. Which scared the daylights out of me and ran screaming inside to Kris. Then one day as I was showering, I noticed a huge toad, probably measuring near 1/2 foot sharing the shower stall with me. I swore and ran out in the buff. Luckily we have no neighbors behind us. . . A frog guards our toothbrushes. . . Next to our shower I watch a happy family of birds nesting in the tree. Another morning I woke to find ants diligently plucking the toothpaste out of my toothbrush. I gagged and promptly boiled and rinsed my toothbrush in bleach. Another day I picked up our shampoo only to find a scorpion underneath it. And this morning I found a grasshopper making a home in the hole in my shaver handle. For a few consecutive days I picked up the plastic bathing bucket to find a 2" cockroach I gagged and prompltly set about to kill him which meant dancing naked around in the shower stall and having my neighbor wonder what in the world I was doing in there shouting and wiggling around. . . So we have company in the bathroom, I am not sure I will miss it, but it is definitely a unique bathing experience. I am dreaming of clean tiles and warm water and heated lights and ventilation fans.

As a fundraiser and to raise awareness in the community about the benefits of rabbit meat we made rabbit tacos for lunch. Three rabbit tacos cost $1.50. We sold around 70 plates of tacos and made enough for us to make another set of rabbit cages. Here is a picture of the teacher and I making the taco salsa.

The papaya tree in our backyard

Our backyard is filled with fruit trees, some known and unknown to me before living here. Here is the comprehensive list of fruit trees in our backyard.

Anona

MammonesLemonOrangeGrapefruitAvacadoAlmondMangoPapayaBananaCoconut

We have really enjoyed our backyard and will severely miss having such great tropical produce at hand. *sigh*

The banana tree in our backyard

If you want to see some hilarious shirts and funny sayings check out this site. I just go to laugh.

www.vintagevantage.com

Thought I would post a photo of what the center of our pueblo looks like. The only thing is that the mountains are superimposed. They should be behind you in reality and in front of you would see the mountains of Honduras in the distance. But this gives a good idea of where we live!

Recently the director of the Peace Corps went to our alma mater, George Fox University, and gave the commencement speech to the graduating class of 2007. He mentioned Kris and I´s experience and we felt very honored. He said nice words about us. Recently George Fox published an article about the new Peace Corps director and a little of our work. You can get a glimpse of this article here : http://www.georgefox.edu/journalonline/corps.html.

I really enjoyed the article because I feel Christians often times overlook Peace Corps as a legitimate way to serve. Christians feel they need to be missionaries to really ¨DO¨what they feel God´s work for them is. We were often questioned before imparting for our Peace Corps experience why we didn´t do missionary work. I believe we are doing missionary work, by living our lives to meet other´s needs. In 1st John of the New Testament it says this (I am so paraphrasing) ¨True religion is this: to help the poor, the widowed, the orphan. ¨ You don´t have to be a certified missionary to do God´s work overseas or even in your own country. Like Tschetter says in his article. . . he saw apalling missionary work and he saw excellent missionary work. The same is true here.

You learn a lot about yourself and what God wants you to learn overseas in a very magnified way. It is a great development and growth opportunity because you come across so many extremes. And you come across hard realities in this world and you confront hard realities about yourself. It is a wonderful experience that is not be found anywhere else. In our Christian group here in Peace Corps El Salvador we all say how thankful we are to have served Christ as Peace Corps Volunteers. One reason is because we are able to be examples not only for Salvadoran nationals but to our peers who are going through this same grueling experience but without the support and faith of Christ. Many Peace Corps Volunteers are inquisitive open souls, and with the many hours we find free we can minister to other Volunteers. I have loved being a Christian in the Peace Corps, more so, I would say than being a Christian Missionary. For me, I have been allowed more freedom to express who I am and what Christ wants for me in a role as a Christian Peace Corps Volunteer.

One thing I believe about Salvadorans is that they are really good at Celebrating. They throw great huge bashes, lunches with flair and skip school or work at just an aforementioned word.

Often, us Peace Corps Volunteers lament, it as the expense of much richer experiences, like a day at school or education, or money to for educational activities or to improve infrastructure or to repair badly broken down schools. But they are good at celebrating and I admire that. I like to celebrate things too, but often forget or make up some excuse not to or pass the day off like it was any other day. I think celebrating is very important and valid. Having Fun is great. (And I think I need to have more fun in my life as a matter of fact.)

However, tomorrow is Day of the Teacher. So how do Teachers celebrate? With a day off. And rows of parties the day before their day off which means less class and less teaching. Favors and wrapped gifts abound, cutisie cards with teary eyed puppies and garishly colored flowers were flowing like confetti. Today I even helped prepare for Teacher´s Day and ate with the teachers at their lunch. It was a fantastic lunch by any standard´s. Except I don´t eat meat, but it was great: steak, chirmol, rice, a zucchini like vegetable, a baked potatoe, two tortillas and a pop. The kids planned out skits, dances and recited poems (this is usual for a salvadoran celebration) and they raffled off gifts (also tipical). As music was blaring at a pitch that made conversations undiscernable, I tried to talk with my neighbors, about what else? The United States. About New York, WA DC and various other places I have never gone to. But it was fun. And needed.

Soon people will be celebrating Agostinas, a week of vacations to celebrate the patron saint of San Salvador - the Savior himself. After that they celebrate many other days with what else, a day off, a lunch, some dancing, some skits and maybe if it is a really good party a live mariachi band!!

for the two weeks i have been home since recovering from my knee i have been battling bugs, or what are appropriately named here, animalitos, little animals. Since the rain season has arrived, so have the wildlife. Because Salvadorans have killed off the larger predators of bugs and their living habitats, bugs are rampant.

And I am getting a little buggy about it. Bugs have taken over my life here and I can harldy stand it anymore. It happens especially at night, because all the various huge and small animalitos flock to the light over on our back porch where we cook our food and eat at our little dining room table. While eating dinner we are dive bombed by various bugs, hovered about by bees or inundated by flies. uUUUUHHhhhhUUHHH! There are spiders, pincher bugs, beetles, june bugs, crickets, moths, butterflies, ants, scorpions and let me tell you about the hungry killer mosquitoes!!!!!!! my legs and ankles have the history recorded on them. After dinner time it is like I forgot about the last nights experience and try to lounge in the hammock (under our one light) and it becomes as a double attack of bug bombs from above and mosquito bites from below! AHH! I soon take cover for our bed with the blessed mosquito net.

The one thing is that some bugs are poisonous. But I don´t know which ones they are and what they look like, this has created a phobia. Everytime I get bit by some unreconizable bug I FREAK out, wondering what disease I am going to contract in 20 years from this Peace Corps experience.

And then . . . there are these gross disgusting bugs called garabatos. They actually grow on cows but because our dogs explore the cow pastures they come home with them. They are kind of like . . . ticks? But they grow in their ears, take root and blow up like blood balloons in their ears, taking the form of a grey pumpkin seed shape. They sprout up various in one time. I hate them. And the dogs flick them out of there ears when they scratch. so i will find garabatos randomly stuck to the wall filled wtih dogs blood. Sometimes I resort to tackling the dog down and picking them out myself. Which although I wear rubber gloves or use a tissue, if I get a little blood on my hand, I wonder if I will leave here with AIDS? Do dogs carry AIDS? I am hyper paranoid about diseases.

The other day as Kris and I were walking by a really mean duck, who was fixing to bite us, Kris wondered aloud. . . Do ducks have rabies? and I responded do dogs get aids? and Kris said the most pertinent thing. . . ¨These are the questions of Peace Corps Volunteers.¨

Two Sundays ago we went to the church for North Americans here in the capital. It was a great experience, especially because the pastor for the day was a Southern Black Preacher. It was animated and high energy and peppered with many Amens! But one thing that struck me was he said. . . if you need money ask God. So I asked God.

A week and half later, last Thursday, I was at the local mall. I had gone there to pick up glasses that Peace Corps had ordered for me. And because it was triple saldo day (Saldo is minutes for your phone, cell phones here for the most part operate on a pay as you go plan) and so was going to go the ATM machine to recharge the minutes on our cell phones. As I was approaching the ATM machine, I noticed the mall garbage man staring oddly at the ATM machine. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. As I came nearer I saw why. There was a wad of bills that probably added up to over $200 just sitting in the machine. I walked up and looked and then without even thinking about it handed the bills over to the trash guy and said take them and go. I don't why I did this. I was thinking mostly the mall trash guy needs the money more than I do, that wad of bills was probably double his monthly salary. And you are probably wondering why I didn't take them and go to the local bank or hand it over to a guard. And I will tell you why, things don't operate like that here. Rules are more like finders keepers. If you hand it over to a guard or the bank teller, they will most likely keep it because there is no way to track how to get the money back to that person who lost the money or forgot to take it.

When I got back to the hotel and told Kris we joked about it. I joked about not thinking about taking half. or at least five dollars for hte cab ride home. Oh well. And then I realized I probably gave the money I had prayed for away. Not really. But it was kind of gratifying to give a guy who probably needed a little bonus, some money.

Usually when I get stuck in the medical black hole (meaning one cannot leave until the PC Doctor says you can and they are ultra protective and never let one leave until 125% of your health has been restored) I find it really hard. I am not a person who likes to leave their community. Some volunteers cannot wait and would rather be in the capital partying. I, on the other hand, would rather be roaming the streets of our pueblo or hanging out with Kris on our back porch partying with our puppies.

However, I have to admit these past two weeks in the capital have been nice. I think it is mainly because we have been able to rest. Before I fell Kris and I were both extremely stressed out, trying to finish up projects, get the most out of our experience as possible, etc. But now, as I have been watching nbc, abc, cbs, food network, hgtv, the travel channel, hanging out 24/7 with other Americans, taking taxis, eating American food I have been able to rest and gain perspective.

The perspective I have gained is this: Peace Corps is hard. Our lives in our communities are exhausting. I have learned that my expectations for projects are rarely lived up to, but to try anyway. I have realized that I don't need to fulfill those expectations but rather right now to start to say good bye. I don't need to work so hard there anymore. Another volunteer is coming who will be able to take over. I might finish up one or two projects but I am not going to kill myself over trying to live up to the expectations I gave them.

It is a hard realization. I am a person who wants to work hard, who wants to see peoples lives changed and you can only do that so far as they want to change as well. But these past two weeks have given me a perspective that my life is now changing over. My life is not really in El Salvador anymore. So here I go. . . The starting of saying good-bye.

See you next fall . . .

So Kris and I went hiking on Sunday, we woke up to a crisp green morning and started on a lovely walk. We ventured to a part of our municipality that we had never trekked, being quite isolated and hard to reach, although it was GORGEOUS. At about two and half hours in, we were in a deserted place, the nearest house a half an hour away, we were making our way down quite a trecherous stretch of steep incline on a loose sandy road, Kris was slipping every which way and I was watching every step diligently. All of the sudden, Kris urgently points to the side of the road, "Look, Look! Look! at this!" I couldn't see and looked up suddenly. But instead of finding what he was pointing at, I was suddenly down on the ground and I was looking at gushing spurting blood and some white looking thing, probably a bone. And I could see down into my leg. We knew we were in trouble, especially because we were so isolated and I was no longer able to walk, and we were 2 and half hours away from any civilization.

I quickly tried to close my leg back up instinctively and Kris, like Superman, rips off his shirt and starts to tear it into peices to form a makeshift tourniquet. We tied it up to keep it from bleeding more and Kris ran up the steep hill to try to find someone who could help us. I was praying my heart out. And two seconds later a cattle truck drives by. Kris and I hop on and they take us to the nearest house with a car. We bribe them with some money to take us as fast as they can to our pueblo. I climb in the back and we are whisked off, 45 minutes later we arrive at our house. At our house we call the Peace Corps emergency line and tell them I probably need stitches, we find another ride to the capital and arrive at the San Salvador emergency room 5 hours after the accident. Upon arrival I am flooded with people and questions. I was so overwhelmed and scared after they saw the wound and were shouting "call the surgeon!' that my blood pressure was a very unhealthy 181/111. The surgeon arrived, put anathesia in my knee and started washing it, although it was numbed, I will tell you, it was still painful. He took out rock after rock and dirt and sand and I know it was not pleasant (even though I had a pillow over my head) because the Nurse gave me play by play pointers on how gross it was and how much it was bleeding and that she could see the bone. **IF you are a nurse, please don't talk about the wound when you are fixing it, PLEASE!** It only made it worse. I ended up with 4 stitches in my knee and 7 on the outside to close up the gash. I was given pain killers and antibiotics and told not to bend it (Here I sit with my leg completely extended on a chair).

Since then, I have seen numerous doctors, taken x-rays, retold the story a thousand times to all my inquiring peace corps friends and have taken a million and a half cab rides because I can't ride the bus or walk (no complaints here!).

Today when I saw the Orthopedic Surgeon he told me I was super lucky to have not cut a tendon, although I had come close, because he said it was practically impossible that it was not cut considering that the way I fell and the way I landed and where it was cut and how deep, I should have cut the tendon. I feel so blessed to not have cut that tendon! I would have serious problems then! But here I am a captive in the medical office at the Peace Corps El Sal headquarters awaiting my stitches to be taken out and watching for signs of a bad infection. They are taking good care of me and I have to say it nice to be away from the stress of my site right now. And today for lunch Kris and I ate lunch at a cute little deli and for dessert we shared a blueberry coconut tart. I know that doesn't sound super extraordinary to anybody in the States, but here it was HEAVEN. I haven't eat a blueberry for nearly two years! I was dancing (as much as I could) in my seat.

In an earlier blog I talked about how it is odd to miss things that you are experiencing right now. Here is a look at some of those things I am missing right now:

1. Our back porch. We have an amazing back porch and every morning Kris and I start our day slowly sipping coffee and talking about abstract concepts that come up with the start of our day.

2. Riding in the backs of pick ups. I love riding in the back of a pick up because that means I am not walking the long distance I would have otherwise been walking. I love the challenge of trying to hold on and not fall out and have the wind whip in your eyes while trying to avoid bugs pelting you and causing blindness.

3. Loving air conditioning. I hope I never take air conditioning for granted It is a wonderful, albeit harmful to environment, invention.

4. Buying (or scavenging for) tropical fruits for dirt cheap. I love buying a whole coconut for fifty cents. Or a bag of freshly toasted cashews for a quarter. I love scrounging for the mouth watering mangoes just outside my door. Or green mangoes, the best thing, maybe even better than pickles.

5. Not realizing I am sweating. I realized the other day I am always in a constant state of sweat but I don’t realize it. I think when I return to Seattle sweating will become a rarity.

6. Having little kids scream my name like I am a celebrity. Little kids really look up to me here and run up to me for a hug. I like that. I feel special. I feel like I am contributing.

7. being able to do want I want with my day. I run my life, well not really. But if I decide I want to leave on vacation I don’t have to ask anybody. I can just go, even if it is a Tuesday morning.

8. Drinking a diet coke is a special event. I love drinking a cold fizzy diet coke with a straw as a special event. I hope I don’t get addicted when I get back to the states.

9. That reading a 4 month old People magazine is a privilege and a perfectly indulgent way to spend an afternoon.

10. I don’t really miss this yet. But I love to curse out our telephone company for their pure studpidity.

11. Our obnoxious dogs. Even though they are the most obnoxious dogs ever created. Actually I will miss observing dog behavior period. The street dogs, the conversations about dogs, the songs we dedicated to dogs (like the Beatles song from the White Album, Why don’ we do it in the road?)

12. Being around other inspiring Americans I would otherwise not have met. There are some really cool people from the USA that I have met that will be good friends for life. I like meeting people from other parts of the country that I would never have met before.

13. buying peanut butter as a special event (and thinking the 3.00 we spent on it was expensive)

14. buying pirated dvd’s and cds for a $1

15. The papas fritas they make here with red syrup for ketchup and covered with a shredded dried cheese. I love them! They are the best fries!

16. The sunshine. I love knowing it will be sunny all day every day, despite the heat, sunshine is fantastic.

17. The fireflies. I love going to bed watching the fireflies fly around our bed/mosquitoe net everynight. It is calming entertainment and much better than those plastic glow in the dark plastic peices that are formed in the shape of stars.

The list can go on and probably will, but it is glimpse of what I am starting to mourn. Of course, there are deeper issues I am dealing with as well. But is good to celebrate details too.

Immigration is the topic on everyone’s minds, here as well as there. . . People here wonder about the perils of going, hear rumors and pass on myths or perhaps truths. People dream of arriving at the border of opportunity and starting a new and better life.

Carecen, a non profit organization that started in Los Angeles, now has headquarters in El Salvador. Carecen deals with human rights in immigration. They look for missing people, make people aware of the dangers of immigration routes and they help people know that they have rights, when often many who migrate believe they have none and except violent realities and horrific abuses. Carecen, first called me, about seven months ago. They wanted to come to our town and give talks in the schools. I set up three talks for them. The man came and the talks were great. They have a map of Central America and the States, they talk of different routes, dangers of paying fines to corrupt cops, rapes, and prostitution. They talk of the cargo train that runs in Mexico, that gangs operate. Many migrates take this train because it is free and takes one through the bottom half of Mexico. But while on this train, if one doesn’t have the money to pay the tariff imposed by the gang members they are thrown off the train. Often people’s limbs are cut off, an arm, a leg or both. Sometimes people are cut in half and die. It is good to know the dangers that one faces and the rights and safe places that people have as a resource, however, the best thing about the talk is that they talk with the kids about studying, about working hard for their country. They tell them it is not all roses in the States, they have to work, sometimes two to three jobs (there is a misconception that money is easily found becauses of the monthly remittances sent back). They talk about the resources they have here in the country and how they can develop those resources. And they give them conditions on which to go to the States. If they can complete these three conditions then they encourage the Youth to go. The conditions are: 1. go young 2. know English 3. go legally.

Last week another Carecen representative came out and visited to give three more talks in different schools. The same high quality, great information presented to a raptured audience. This time I had more time to talk with the worker and had many more questions. The main question on my mind was that I had heard of deported convicted criminals coming back with a chip implanted in their arm so that if they ever tried to cross the border in the U.S. again they would be detected by a laser that the border guard has. I couldn’t believe it. But I kept hearing murmurs of this. The Carecen representative confirmed it. He also told me people are coming back with electronic metal bracelets, but that people take them off. The technology we are putting into deported criminals is amazing and not to mention EXPENSIVE! Do people in the U.S. know that people are being implanted with chips? Does this not scare anyone else? When are they going to plant the average person with a chip? I expect soon. To me it seems that planting a chip in someone seems like a human rights violation. I just think that people don’t realize that the U.S. government is planting people with chips. All for the sake of national security! When will we be planted with chips for national security? The technology and finances they are putting into border control is mind boggling. In certain high traffic border crossing areas, they use thermal technology to scout out groups of people. They have technology to sense when people are walking in these areas as well. They even use satellite technology to stop people from crossing the border. It is amazing and a little wasteful in my opinion. I am a person who believes in prevention, for instance instead of building more prisons, I believe we should put more money into education and family programs. In this case as well I believe in prevention. Ideally I believe we could put this money into the hands of these countries to do ground work development to provide jobs, security and health care people so that people would not go. However, this isn’t an ideal world and often times huge chunks of money get waidlaid by diplomats and government programming more often than not in these countries does not meet the real needs of the people. So . . . a compromise? A change in diplomacy: instead of calling immigrants criminals and continuing to give power to those who want to do wrong, we grant temporary work visas where we can tax wages, and keep track of people instead of hunting them down like wild game with thermal technology. One thing I think North Americans misunderstand is that most people who go North often go with the hope of only working two or three years and then returning to their home. But often because of legalities and fear and realities (like making a new family in the States) people do not come back. Perhaps a temporary work visa could eliminate this and help those people come back to develop their own countries (true democracy, no?).

This is a question that has plagued me for at least a year. When is it time to give up and move on? When is a relationship obviously not healthy for the person involved? My relationship with my counterpart agency has not been easy. However, I am not a person to give up. At all. I still have not given up on them and sometimes I wonder if I should. Kris asks me why I keep going when my hopes are continually rubbed and smashed and dashed in the dirt. Why do I continue to gather myself up – the motivation, the courage, and the shattered self esteem to go back day after day. I spend a good amount of time cursing them and saying what a sinking ship they are on. So why do I go back, failed project after failed project? Why do I go back after all my super cool ideas (come on who wouldn’t pay a quarter to watch a projected movie on Friday afternoon complete with free popcorn?!?) and no one shows up. WHY?!?! Like my rabbit project, which come on, anybody can see is super cool J people say they will show up to help and no one does? Why? I feel like an ag department in the high school trying to get the preppy jocks to join in on the fun! Come on! So I continue to ask myself do I give up, two months before I leave? Will anything change in those two months? No. But am I going to give up? Against all better judgment, no. I will continue on, because at least if every hope has been dashed I can say, I gave my all, and it was not my fault if people didn’t know better to take advantage of it.

1. You wake up to find a black sock has found its way into the laundry you left to soak overnight ruining 3 out of 4 pairs of pants you own and a favorite shirt.

2. You show up to do the class you had scheduled with the Principal at the high School only to find she has forgot about you again and she had not prepared the students for the class as she said she would.

3. You blatantly show your impatience and then blurt out your frustration at the incompetence of the place to the Principal.

4. On your way home, still feeling bad about diarrhea of the mouth, you open the door to the patio to find that the three dogs have strewn every single piece of trash from your trash can intermittently throughout the yard. Yelling and cursing at the dogs you pick up the trash and dirty the only clean and non stained pair of pants you own.

5. Calling your significant other to see how their morning is going you find that a person you have sacrificed personal time and resources to help has been spreading horrible gossip about you and was only using you to better his political means in the community

6. In a moment of rashness you call your program manager to tell her something else, and end up babbling about the aforementioned incident and sounding like a complete idiot.

7. After this you decide to call it a day even though it is only 11:30 in the morning and take off for the nearest mall to drown your sorrows in a Wendy’s chicken spicy sandwich and a Frosty. You notice that Pirate of the Carribeans 3 is playing, but it is not subtitled but dubbed over in Spanish (watching dubbed movies is highly irritating as they make the women out to be giggly high pitched morons), getting your hopes up and then dashing them.

8. You come back and try to set up a project for tomorrow at the elementary school to find every single person you want to talk to is gone and at home. You decide to follow suit.