Here are my last posts written over a week ago until today....----So, I’m in Nicaragua. I got to San Juan del Sur around 5 pm and found myself a sketchy little room with a window you can see the beach from. The room has wooden slat walls where you can see through the cracks to the outside. The wind blows through the room like it would a tree….I love it. It is absolutely charming. Before the PC I would have died if you put me in this room and now I think it’s perfect with exactly the right price- $10. --- Getting to Nicaragua via chicken buses was painfully slow but I did get to observe life here and in Costa Rica more than I had been able to previously. Costa Rica, like Panama, is a tourist haven and with their robust tourism industry they have become quite organized and adept at serving any and every need of any kind of traveler. This can be a bit much…takes away some of the foreign charm. BUT, bus-wise CR and Panama are interesting. The buses are all part of companies and the companies have ticket booths. (This is unheard of in El Salvador.) While this seemed really organized at first you soon realize that, like El Sal, you can pick it up at any point on a route just by hailing it and they do the dumb ticket stub thing with the girl who comes around and checks your stub. The dumbest example of this was in Nicaragua (which does ticketing Salvadoran style as far as I can tell) when the cobrador came by collecting money and giving out stubs and then 10 minutes later went through to collect those very same stubs…I can find no logic to this. The thing about CR and Panama is you can get sucked into places that aren’t all that cool. For instance, Monteverde was really built up on travel websites but we got there and found out it’s not even a national park. It used to be coffee plantations until the community decided to re-grow the cloud forest and make a buck off it. I love the effort but aside from the very cool canopy tour (which can be found like every 5 miles) we went on I would not recommend it. (The canopy tour was wild…I’m so proud of me and my mom for surviving.) On the other hand, Rincon de la Vieja is a national park and had some amazing natural wonders on a 2K walk. We saw a mini-volcano,big boiling natural water pots, boiling clay pots, and gorgeous birds. We also did the 8K hike out to some hot springs that turned out to be not so hot but it was fine. For $5 you could do a private one nearby and skip the 8K walk. We had fun though and don’t regret it. The giant blue butterflies and coati’s were more than enough to keep us happy as we waded through rivers with no bridges. (Mom only almost got swept away twice.) The rest of our days were spent eating as much seafood as possible, going to the beach, and walking to town. Our last day included massages at sunset on the beach, followed by lobster, and a wonderful Mexican folk band. It was a great ending to a wonderful trip that would not have been possible without the extreme generosity of a friend who loaned me their house for the week. The Villa Paloma was amazing. My mom and I are already plotting when we can return. (If you want to rent a house in CR…def let me know and I’ll point you in the right direction.) --- Upon entering Nicaragua, I noticed a few things. First, it looks a lot more like El Salvador than CR or Panama did in terms of the people and the poverty. I got a public housing flashback when I saw clapboard houses with giant SKY satellite dishes. Second, I saw a makeshift field where men were playing a pick-up baseball game! It was my first sighting ever in Central America. All I usually see are soccer games but I finally saw a baseball game. (Speaking of soccer, the towns in Costa Rica have their canchas in the town square which struck me as very different and probably very cool on Sundays.) Third, Nicaragua has wind turbines! Looked just like West Texas except these were beside a beautiful black volcanic lake… San Juan del Sur, where I am now and tomorrow night, is on a big cove. The beach is big all around the cove and I bet it gets bigger when the tide goes out. Looking forward to waking up refreshed tomorrow, exploring, and enjoying the day….Saturday I meet up with Brian in Granada! PS. No pictures until I meet up with Brian…Mom accidently took my memory card with her back to the States : / ----- Ok, so that little hotel had two extra surprises that I had not bargained for: rats and bed bugs. Yep, around the middle of the night I had to put bug spray to combat the mini-bites I kept feeling all over my body. And, the wind picked up so much I thought it would knock my roof off the second floor. Then, the sound of rats made me think I’d have visitors in my bed at any minute. Needless to say, I woke up early to look for a new hotel which I found at 7:30 am…apparently too early to reserve or check in to a room. So I walked around until the guy was there. Finally, the American and his pit bull named Gandalf checked me into the super-surfer hostel. It had my basic requirements- free water and internet. I then went off to find some food and entertainment. A Hawaiian restaurant owner suggested a shuttle to one of the surfer beaches. I made it back to my hostel in time to find out that they were about to leave. So I head out and laid around for 4 hours…much too long but nice. At the end, on the way back, all of us guests started talking and later I made friends with a girl who during dinner I learned was working at a surf camp in Costa Rica. She was from Canada, my age, and working in software promotion until she won a video essay contest that sent her to this surf camp in Costa Rica! She had such a good time that three months later she quit her job, packed her bags, and took a job doing promotion work for the camp. She has surfed every day for the past 3 months! It was wild. She was super entertaining to talk to…it’s just another example of how fun it is to meet people while travelling. The next day I head out to Granada to meet Brian. I got there around 12. I wasn’t expecting him until at least 1 or 1:30. I kinda wanted to wander a bit and not just sit around and wait but I was so scared to miss him so I stayed at the hotel in a hammock. Around 3 I started freaking out that he had decided not to come or got lost or worse but finally in my lowest moment of panic he arrived. We set out to see the city and find food…we were both starving. On our first full day in Granada we decided to do the hotel shuttle to the nearby volcanic crater lake, Laguna de Apoyo. It turns out that it looks just like Lago Coatepeque minus all the huge mansions around it. We had a great day lay out on super comfortable chairs, chatting, swimming, and kayaking ( I learned Brian is quite the kayaker.) We had an amazing time and Brian has vowed to go back and spend a week there while he is travelling after his service. After the lake, we went to eat because, of course, we were starving. It was only around 4:30 when we ate our first meal. Then we started drinking…..and I discovered the national cocktail of Nicaragua- the Macua. It is a fruit cocktail with guava juice and extra light Flor de Cana rum which is made in Nicaragua. Brian had more than his fair share of Cuba libres….he kept insisting that we could drink nothing buy rum since we were in one of the best countries that makes rum. Needless to say that by 7 pm we could not believe that it was that early and were that drunk. We were laughing and joking with the waiters about everything including the green cherries that were obscenely green. Finally, we got another pizza to go and went home. It was hands down the best day of our trip and maybe the year. The day after we were not really hung-over at all but we had the huge problem of trying to organize a day that was as good as the previous. We pretty much failed on all accounts except that we did get massages. We were lazy the whole day but that was okay. Our last days in Nicaragua were suppose to be spent in Leon BUT when we got to Managua to reserve our tickets we found out that the bus could only be taken from Managua…a capital city more ugly than San Salvador. So we were stuck. With little options we wandered around the American style mall for hours, ate Papa Johns, and drank some cocktails. The next morning we caught the bus at 4 am back to El Salvador. It was an extremely long bus ride with too many stop and of course erroneous triple checking by the Salvadoran government. When we got back to El Salvador, I head back to Yamabal after being gone for a month. I was anxious to see my cat and get packing since I would be flying out just 2 days later. The house was a mess but Cleo was in great shape thanks to my wonderful friends who fed her and checked in on her. I packed up and spent the next day cleaning and saying sad goodbyes. ( I only cried with Nina Mari though…no one not related to me has ever taken care of me like she has….) El Salvador did little as a whole to make me sad I was leaving….I had trouble with the phone company, visa problems, and then ultimately problems getting Cleo her paperwork. On Friday when I got to San Sal, the first vet told me it would be 15 days to get the proper vaccinations and documents from the ministry. The second vet told me that for $129 he could go pull some strings at the ministry himself. Well, turns out that the ministry had a holiday lunch that day and stopped work at 12 so…I had to change my flight…for $189. The price for this cat was suddenly getting awful expensive. But, there was no other choice. All day I cried when people told me I couldn’t make it work or when I had to even think about leaving her behind. So, I swallowed the costs, checked her into the nasty vet’s office for the next 3 days and said a prayer that Monday (with the vet now asking for $150) we’d be able to get the papers. It wasn’t really all that bad. Brian and I got to go out with friends a couple of nights and spend a couple of days at the beach eating some of our favorite meals (pizza, baked potatoes with shrimp, and bruschetta by a Belgian). By Tuesday, the day had finally come. I picked up Cleo and her papers and Brian rode in the taxi with me to the airport. First thing we had to do was rearrange the bags to make them weigh no more than 50 lbs each. Thankfully Brian had made me review EVERYTHING in my bags in front of him and get rid of at least 30 more lbs. (Shoes , clothes, and hammock all got donated to a poor community of one of my friends who lives just about my site in Yamabal.) We BARELY made the weight limit and certainly would not have made it if it were not for that last minute cutback. In fairness to me and my packing abilities though, I was hauling stuff back for Brian as well…Finally, I checked the bags, paid the $150 to board my cat, and the lady GLANCED at her paperwork. That was the extent to which my nearly $400 last minute cat paperwork was taken seriously. I could have had food recipes in there and she would not have even had noticed!!! I was not happy but whatever. More important after that was saying bye to Brian…teary to say the least. Going through security I forgot to remove my stupid Swiss Army knife my mom gave me so I lost that. Then, I was so distraught on the plane that two attendants came over to check on me….slightly embarrassing. I finally chilled out. In Dallas, had to escort Cleo through more procedures in which at least 3 more people GLANCED at her f’ing paperwork! But, everything went smooth and Cleo was a little star in the terminal. Everyone was coo’ing over her and it occurred to me that I was finally back in the States in a place where people actually like cats and dogs. I nearly missed my connecting flight but made it. The whole flight I kept thinking about how scary it was to be home permanently. It made me nearly cry 3 times until I started down the escalator in San Antonio and burst into full-fledged fear-tears. My sister was there to hold me and cry with me too…albeit for a different reason. We settled down after a good cry and waited for the giant bags. As we were waiting we suddenly heard Cleo scream. This was not all that shocking since she had been doing it for the last four days…poor thing. That is until I realized she screamed because the asshole baggage handlers had dropped her down a steep luggage ramp which caused her to crash into the bottom. I ran to collect her and went straight to the office to report the complaint. The lady there was sooo helpful and immediately called the supervisor who came out and assured me that he talked to the guys and that that was not standard procedure. I thanked him for his help and left. Since being home I have had to take care of insurance claims, rental car paperwork, buying a new phone, moving my stuff, etc . that I have not had any real time to process more scary thoughts about being stuck in the US but it’s there looming in the back of my head…something that no one but an RPCV could probably understand.

Finally left Panama but it turned out to be the beginning of a big storm that would follow me for at least 2 days and cause major flooding in Costa Rica. I met up with a group of Swedes who were leaving Panama to go to the same place as me- Puerto Viejo. Travelling in groups has its advantages because we got to bargain our cab rates and find things together.

I wasn't originally planning on going to PV but on my last day in Bocas I stumbled upon a hostel on the water and decided to switch hotels. At the hotel I met a guy who said instead of spending all day on a bus to San Jose I should break up the trip by heading to the Caribbean coastal town of PV. It sounded good and I was optimistic I would finally see sun.

My last day in Bocas it was raining all day but I got to sit out on the dock reading and chillin. That night was taco night and they had a singer with a gorgeous voice who sang traditional Mexican songs. I made friends with the owner who is also the owner of Fudpucker's in the States via his lawyer who is a chill Panamanian. We ate BBQ chicken with a neighbor friend who was from Ft. Worth and an ex-cop/private security in Iraq. The chicken was delicious. I had 5 beers and thought it was weird how I didn't feel any of them...until the morning when I woke up.

I got up not so happy and wanting some decent priced eggs...there were none to be found so I hauled myself to a boat. When we docked I met a Swede heading my way and then we ran into 2 more Swedes going that way so we joined forces. This proved to be very helpful. They all managed to BS their way through the check-point at the border but I got stopped and that's when I had to walk in the POURING rain without a pancho or umbrella to print out a $3 copy of my eventual flight back to the States. Totally dumb. Whatever. I met back up with the Swedes after and we spent a good few hours chatting about Sweden, Swedish crime novels, and the like. It was a good time. We all parted ways in PV. I was cheap and needed something fast since it was pouring. The first place I found is where I ended up...it was perhaps the shadiest place I have ever stayed in Latin America. The rooms were nice and all but....when I got there the American owner was smoking a joint and about 5 guys looked totally strung out in what we would call the lobby while watching the guys work on draining the literal baby pool that formed in front of the front desk bc of the flooding. He gave me a key for a room that was kinda far in the back so I asked for something closer to the front to which he responded- "Oh, we never have any problems in my hotel- no rapes or anything like that." Thanks. I switched rooms, went to eat dinner, locked my door, and said a prayer that record of no rapes stayed that way.

The next morning I got myself up and going to the bus. The guy downstairs said there were no buses running bc the road had been washed out. Having much experience with Central America I freaked out mildly and said I'd go check on it myself. I got there and the buses were running albeit a different route. The new route would add at least an hour onto the journey which was fine bc my mom didn't land til later and I had already factored in extra time to run a TICA bus errand. Once on the bus, a random white guy asked me in Spanish if the seat next to me was taken. This made me smile because it always makes me laugh when people try to speak to me in Spanish first and they are clearly white and would prefer to talk in English. A couple of minutes later he must have forgotten that he didn't think I spoke English and started cursing and telling me how he forgot to return his room key. From there I was entertained for hours by a funny Irishman...

I finally met up with my mom who I hadn't seen in over a year. I was so delighted to see her. We embarked on what would become a nearly 7 hour bus journey. (Only today did we figure out we should have rented a car. Oh well, we are doing that tom.) We finally found the GORGEOUS house we are borrowing and head out at 11 pm to find sustenance. We found it in the form of some yummy mahi-mahi fajitas and WAY too strong margaritas. We got terribly lost on the way home and ended up taking a cab three blocks :/

Today, my mom managed to make me totally jealous by sleeping in until nearly 10. I woke up at 7, went shopping, made breakfast, and made her some coffee. She was over the moon when she woke up to it. After, we got ready and head for the beach. We talked, waded, and finally found a lunch spot with amazing food. Mom had red snapper and I had calamari...so yum. We also found some jewelry we can't live without.

We head back to the house to put the leftovers up and sit by the pool. I put black beans to cook and mom read. I was laying down when I saw what I first thought was a black cat but then turned out to be a monkey!! It was looking right at us climbing the coconut tree right above our heads. Mom ran to get the camera but by then he'd gone.

Now, just unwinding and thinking how wonderful how I don't have to do anything tomorrow either :)

I have learned a lot about backpacking the hard way. Not knowing many people who've done it at all much less Central America made my experience a crash-test. I am going to update this list until I finish my trip:

take your own towel....and buy a quick dry one at that.buy a poncho even if its the end of the raining season every country wants assurances that you are leaving when you enter..so if you are just travelling around with no dates of when you are leaving make sure you at least have an internet print out of that flight you are taking home from whatever country weeks later. i bought a bus ticket i didn't need and then when i was informed the internet print out was an option, i had to pay for a $3 print out...every place has a place to wash clothes so don't bring enough for the whole trip...bring enough for the week...saves room in your bag which will get heavier during the trip.i am glad i brought my netbook.

Well, the end of Panama has been a bit of a disaster. After a 12 hr midnight bus ride to Bocas del Torro (famous islands off the coast of Panama), we arrived thinking we'd take one boat to our hotel. It turned out to be like a few boats. Panama has eaten away my cash so multiple boats was not helping.

We finally got to our hotel and the people there were assholes. For a place where 100% of the clients were Americans or Europeans and 75% of the staff are American, you'd think they'd know something about customer service. Then, when escorted to our room we were told we had to keep it at freezing temps or else the walls would sweat. This would have been okay if there had been hot showers to go along with freezing room conditions...there weren't. By the end of the day, I was beyond fatigued. I went to bed early after some hot tea. Someone had cut the AC and I didn't bother to turn it back on. I woke up in the middle of the night with a raging fever and body aches. In the morning it was confirmed- I had strep throat. The white little dots in my throat and the swollen lymph nodes were a dead give away. As luck would have it, my random bunkmate from San Francisco thought he had strep before he came down and had the antibiotics on him which he generously gave to me. So, I spent the whole day recovering....no beach, no tours, no fun.

That night I went to bed with the aid of my ipod and woke up the next morning with my ipod waterlogged. Yes, the walls had sweat and formed a puddle under my bed which my ipod had fallen into. I was beyond mad and told my friend we were leaving that instant. Luckily, that's been the end of my bad luck. I got to the main island and almost immediately found a hostel. I walked it and it was perfect. I had my own room and gorgeous wooden furnishing. It was a quite hostel with signs everywhere that say "No guests allowed at ANY time." This is in stark contrast to the rest of the island. The island is like party central for Gringos and most people my age keep an eye out for hostel's with bars attached....they are the majority here. So, I feel very lucky to have randomly wandered here. I have a nice little room with a porch outside that I can see the ocean from as I type on my computer.

Weird story: There is this super friend black cat here at the hostel. And, the owners have a portrait of a black cat so I assumed it was theirs. Well today I went downstairs to pay for another night and I asked what the name of the cat was. He said that his cat of 13 years died yesterday. The cat in the portrait was his cat. The hostel is named after the cat, Hansi. According to the owner, this new cat that I was inquiring about is female and arrived only yesterday and does not appear to be leaving anytime soon. The owner swears up and down its true. He says he is not a religious man but its just a strange strange occurrence. Really really weird. He was also light-hearted about it saying he expects the female to now give him a litter of all black kittens :)

Tried to leave this morning but after drying out my ipod all day and reviving it... the clock reset and my alarm didn't go off. So, another day of rest and I'll try to head out to Costa Rica tomorrow. Mom comes in on Thursday!

1. Trips by myself are a bad idea. I get too lonely.2. Being away from my family or really anyone's family is a bad idea. Thanksgiving without some kind of family activity makes me really sad. 3. The combo of the above makes for not such a great day.

The past two to three years have been life-changing. I have visited beautiful countries, gotten to know different cultures, learned a new language, found my public policy interests, and been able to live life without major constraints. None of this would have been possible without my parents.

My parents emotional, spiritual, and financial support has given me the will and the way to take on these new experiences. Because they paid for my undergraduate education and always allowed me to follow my own interests I was able to not worry about a job and go straight into non-paying public service for 3 years. I cannot thank them enough for this. It is more than anyone could ever ask for from their parents. I only hope that one day I can give my own children the same opportunity.

I have been waking up exhausted every day which is a good thing...

Yesterday, caught a cab outside Dylan's building. The apartment is amazing but cabbies don't like to go where I want to be taken because they work certain areas or they think I am rich because the neighborhood seems to be rolling in dough...which means they charge me more. Se la vie. Travelling around by myself is hard and learning to navigate the towns buses in under a week would be a giant headache.The cabbie yesterday turned out to be a tour guide as well..literally. He took me to the old city ruins and the canal and fed me fun facts along the way. He also proved helpful in taking lots of pictures with me in them. We went to eat a very yummy tipico lunch. I liked the fried yucca rolls so he took me to the supermarket to buy some more to make at the house. The company was nice and the day cost me $60...which isn't bad considering he drove me all over the city. The canal is pretty far removed.

Today, I woke up a bit late and had the cabbie I found haul ass to the ferry terminal which is also pretty far out of town. I made it with 15 minutes to spare. The "tranque" (traffic) was bad. Panamanians love the word tranque and love saying para alla but they say it pa-lla. It's really funny. My spanish has gotten much much better..more fluid... which makes me happy. Travelling seems to improve it..the accents are crazy so it makes you work harder too. So far, I have been asked if I am Colombian and Brazilian :)

Once out on the island I looked for the most removed comedor which is a strategy that failed me this time. Breakfast here is weird...hamburgers are on the breakfast menu!! I had fried bread and fried egg. Thank goodness I took an apple with me to the island. (I sound like my mother...eek) I wandered out the beach then decided to do a hike which lasted about 1.5 hours. It was nice and found some really cool stuff (see pictures). Layed out on the beach, ate an amazing lunch, listened to great great NPR, Planet Money, and Freakonomics podcasts and finally got back on the barge at 4:30.

Tomorrow is T-Day. Only plans are to watch football, get in the pool, and eat at Casco Viejo (the last place I haven't seen in the city).

The end of my adventure has been beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I stayed on in El Salvador longer in order to join a brigade of doctors who would be holding a two day clinic at my site. It proved to be a great decision. I spent two days working with the women's group as we gave a talk on breast cancer and I helped translate breast exams and pap smears. I also assisted in translating medical histories which was incredibly fascinating. Women who didn't know their birth days, women who were too scared to get examined, women who did the brave thing of going on birth control, young girls who wanted their health to be a priority, women who looked to be 50 who were pregnant with their 7th child and so on. I now have a new drive to work more in women's health policy. One of the women in the group works for Planned Parenthood and suggested volunteering which is something I will definitely be looking in to.The doctors continued on to other PCV sites but I had graduation and packing for my big trip.

On Thursday morning I got to the bus stop at 4 am with my school director who was kind enough to escort me. I had two seats to myself until Costa Rica which allowed for sufficient sleep. However, I did have a problem with my expired visa in El Salvador which made me angry and, I admit, made me cry. I had to pay a $115 fine to leave and continue on my journey. The 24 hour journey was not that bad because TICA provides good food and the countries make you get off at every border crossing for about 20 minutes or 2 hours. In Costa Rica, we switched buses and I sat to a Panamanian reggae musician. Sleeping was harder and, like Texas, we were driving through Panama for nearly 9 hours before reaching our destination. My friend, Dylan, met me at the terminal and we headed back to his condo in the city which turned out to have an ocean view and be super plush. (He gets free housing as an SAT/TOEFL/AP professor for children of wealthy families here.) The next day we set out for San Blas. It is an archipelago and Indian reservation of the Kuna Yala Indians...see my pictures for more details. After two full days there, we headed back to the city. The next day we did market shopping in Avenida Central...a haven of cheap goods. I scored some cute earrings and indian sandals but, thankfully, didn't go too crazy buying tons of cute tops for $2. I saw Harry Potter. Today, we are planning on seeing the Old City Ruins and the Canal.

In light of my trips being cancelled and everyone and their brother asking me why I COS'd early if I am still working, I have been kinda bummed. BUT, now I have a reason (finally) for why my trips didn't come to fruition. Yesterday, my clinic director and I were invited to look through some medical equipment my Rotary Club contact recently received. We went, it was a mess! It took a few hours but we unearthed desperately needed pregnancy tests and an Ultrasound machine! A full-blown machine just waiting to be taken away. I was scared to get too excited until we figured out if it actually worked and so I stopped by this morning and met with two of the doctors who confirmed that though it was missing a few minor pieces, it worked for all the basic functions needed to see a pregnant mother. I am so happy! The machine will serve over 2,000 families in the area. Everything does happen for a reason...glad I got a little confirmation :)

On any given day I am called on or I myself call on the mayor, the head doctor of the health clinic, the health inspector, or the directors of the primary school and high school. These are my primary counterparts. While it all sounds very impressive, it is quite normal for a volunteer working in a municipality of just over 2,000 people. These people are a network of leaders who, surprisingly, are not always on the same page. And then there are those days where I am surprised when they are all on the same page and I seem to have missed something. In any case, my job as I see it is to network with them and my resources in the United States to get projects done for the people of the community. It struck me how grown-up and beyond my years it sounds to work like this. Things like the head doctor of the clinic to knock on my door to make sure we can arrange the mayor’s car to take us to pick up medical supplies from an NGO that contacted me to let me know there were supplies available. I made the call, the mayor agreed. The mayor on the other hand is waiting for me to set up an appointment with the Rotary Club to come out and survey a site where they are looking to drill a well for a small village of 20 families who are without water. Wells don’t get drilled without NGOs like Rotary Club. The director of the school is waiting different Rotary funds I solicited and was lucky enough to receive to buy a new AC for a classroom which will be a multi-purpose meeting room and library. Right now, if there is a meeting at the school the kids must take their desks to the main hall and have class outside while their room is being occupied by school directors and other adults. I know I have said this before but I now find much of my excitement for public policy in health care. I have no idea how that will hold up in the United States where it is a different world entirely but we shall see.

It is quite normal to see bugs in every part of your life here in El Salvador. I have become so accustomed to seeing spiders, ants, wasps, etc in almost every part of my house- shower, toilet, bed, wall, desk, EVERYWHERE. Any person in the US who comes with a healthy fear of moving creatures soon acquires a sort of numbness to them….you just stop noticing them all together. I remember during my immersion days visit when I went to visit an experienced volunteer for a weekend during my training. I remember the girl, Liliana, telling me that it’s wise to move things often and clean behind things because you never know what is nesting there. I heeded this advice somewhat but really I haven’t had too many problems in my two years. I once found a scorpion in a box that I was storing stuff in. And, I have ants that live under my door hinge which never go away no matter how much I douse them with raid, rum, or vinegar. But tonight, I had an even better surprise. I am gradually cleaning out my room. Throwing away things here and there, packing some stuff, putting stuff in a give-away pile. Well, there’s my box that someone shipped me which for the past year or so has served as a sort of filing cabinet on top of my desk. I’d cleaned it out once a few months ago but tonight I decided to see if I could weed a few more things out. That’s when I found it. The giant giant ant nursery. That’s right- not only was the nursery filled with hundreds of eggs that looked EXACTLY like rice but it was also giant ants. At the moment when I found them I thought two things: 1. Did I spill rice in there at some point? 2. So that’s why for months I have had random giant ants in my room! Shortly, thereafter I decided that nope, there was no way I would have spilled rice back there and F! I needed to get that damn box out ASAP. So I dragged it out to the patio where I tried to get as many books out as I could. All the while, I kept feeling the damn ants crawling all over me! It was a sickening feeling. They weren’t on me at all but I was in such a mental state that seeing them crawling all over made me feel like they were actually on me. After getting the books out I tried to push the box outside but it tipped over as I was trying to do it…goose bumps rose all over my body as I imagined the eggs falling out all over my porch. I managed to tip it out though and the few that fell out I quickly swept out. Ugh! It reminds me of dissecting the frog in high school. Mine was female and had thousands of eggs inside it…grossed me out for months. Oh El Salvador, you are full of terrible little surprises from computer viruses that make me lose all my information on my USB drive after two years to giant ant nurseries. I shall miss all of it and none of it.

These past few days I have been dealing with my new reality- that I am no longer a currently serving PCV. Technically, I am now a Returned PCV. My service officially ended on October 15, 2010. My plans changed a million times until August when I had to set my final day in stone. The plan in August was to travel to Cuba and Guatemala/Belize before finishing up some work at site then heading to Panama/Costa Rica/ Nicaragua. Then, no one was available to go to Cuba with me and Peace Corps blocked travel to Guatemala ensuring that me and Brian were unable to go there. So, now I am still here doing what I have done for the last two years- working. Only now, I am free from the leash of Peace Corps. I am here as a private citizen. It is a very very odd feeling to be here without any one to answer to or call when I am sick. (Not that I have been sick yet.) You would think I would feel liberated and happy but actually I was quite upset when this reality set in….the reality that I closed my service about a month prematurely losing out on nearly $600 of PC cash. Oh well. I figure I would blow through that in a few weeks in the States. Now, I just need to focus on my budget- no more than $2000 before I start work the first week in January. I need to put a down-payment on a car and stash some money away for the rainy day fund which also may soon be known as the grad school account. Money is not fun to talk about and I hate thinking about it. But, with a three country tour ahead of me it is a must. I feel better now than I did when it first occurred to me that all my careful planning fell to shit. Everything happens for a reason. I am still going to see a lot of parts of new countries and hell, I already have two years of memories that should be enough to make anyone proud.

The night before last Brian was sleeping when in the middle of the night he felt an animal sniffing in his ear. He was like, "Cleo!" Then he realized he wasn't at my house. So then he was like, "oh a puppy!" then he remembered he didn't have a puppy. He finally came to and it was a rat! In his bed! He freaked out, it bit him, and chased it around his room for awhile and couldn't catch it. He later discovered it had taken some of his ADD medicine.

Ok, so yesterday he went to buy rat poison. He made some masa and made about 11 balls which he placed in the rafters and around the room.

Last night, he called me around 4:15 in the madrugada to tell me that a rat had just fallen from the ceiling onto his mosquito net....it was dead!!

So gross!!! He said there are more up there and he can hear them but ALL the masa balls have been eaten. So we'll see if more rats fall from the sky tonight....

I wish I could capture moments as good as my fellow PCV, Clayton. Here are his albums:http://picasaweb.google.com/claykennedy/ElSalvador#http://picasaweb.google.com/claykennedy/NewElSalvador#

Many times throughout my service I have come home after a trip to find my backyard nearly destroyed. It has gotten progressively worse. This last time my dishes were out and used, one of my gallon water jugs was missing, my trashcan was missing, food was all over a prep area, toilet paper all over the bathroom and ants crawling out of the toilet, and trash was scattered and smelly in front of my back door. I was not happy. It was obvious my neighbor had a party especially after I found the throw up as evidence. I am not usually a passive aggressive person nor usually silent when things bother me but here it’s harder to voice things when I am upset and for whatever I fear retribution since my entire kitchen is outside. The last time he had a party about 2 weeks ago, he used all of my worsteshire sauce. He always trashes the place when he has a party. He is an alcoholic at 22 years old. He has a 2 year old baby and a wife who is a full-time nurse. He doesn’t have much responsibility except when he helps out with his family’s land. It seems like I should tell them to stop using my stuff or if they do return it the way they found it but it’s not that easy. I tried to tell the wife something this morning but it’s hardly her fault and she is the one who already suffers every time he gets into an alcoholic stupor- she puts up with his verbal abuse and has to clean the house after he trashes it. I woke up this morning to find her cleaning the mountain of trash I swept over to their side of the house (finally). She didn’t look happy. I finally asked about my trashcan to which she said she didn’t know where it went. She said the baby took the water jug (like she always does) and when I asked about the bathroom she gave me a weak smile and a shoulder shrug instead of saying ‘Jeffrey was drunk again…’ I stopped. I can’t yell at her for her husband being an alcoholic. And, I can’t say anything to him because he is a drunk and I am sure he would get more pissed off and destroy my stuff more. With just under a month left here in my house, I am frustrated and ready to leave.

The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others. — Mahatma Gandhi

This is the perfect statement for today.

I feel like not only have I found what I want my purpose in life to be but I have also found my voice and the causes I care about. Through Peace Corps I have been able to dabble in many different types of service- environmental, gender awareness, education, parenting, health, y mas. I have been so blessed these past two years to be able to take two years out and just explore what is important to me. It is my hope that I can carry this perspective into the future indefinitely.

I officially close my service in 2 weeks.

Went to check out houses for the next volunteer. It's crazy because I find myself jealous of the new person...like I wish I could do another service. Kind of that feeling you get when you see freshman starting college. I am setting this next person up with great living arrangements, a good community, and tons of work. I almost understand how people do a third year...Still, I know I made the right choice to not extend. There are always going to be new great projects that could benefit the people.

I constantly find myself in a state of reflection these days. Like remembering the taste of food, remembering how fresh the air can be, remembering the dirt roads, the way they make tortillas, the bus rides, and the flexibility I have.

This morning I woke up at 8:30, spent an hour reading the news and getting dressed. School was cancelled until Monday due to the constant downpour of rain. Needless to say, at least where I live, there was absolutely no reason to cancel classes for kids who as it is hardly receive class. But, the Ministry of Education here is well...you know how I feel.

Around 9:30 I found the mayor's driver and asked him to drive me out to the site where the new volunteer will live. We go there around 10:30. I found a house almost right away, ate some lunch, then head back to my house and got here around 1:00. And, that's it. That's my work day. I can now listen to music, wash clothes, read, or whatever else I want. What a blessing. Best part of the job.

I have been trying to compose a list of things I want to remember. I have a few but surely not all...How hard that first bucket is every night I bathe. How sometimes I stand there naked for 5-10 trying to talk myself into dumping that cold water all over me.Having to go to the bathroom when it's pouring. Dashing into the rain and then into the bathroom without getting soakedThe crazy formality of letters or request here. It always reminds me of writing a request to the king...Every morning filling all my bottles from the hose so I have water to drink and cook with all dayRiding to games in the back of a cattle truck down remote country roadsSmelling nearly every day even the days where I do no manual laborDrying clothes behind the fridge...the closest thing I have to a dryer and the fastest way to get a few garments dry fast(er)I am definitely a tougher person than I used to be. I remember begging my boss not to put me in some remote village without basic needs. Now, I would like the opportunity to stick it out somewhere and work with basic needs- water, sanitation, health. That is probably why I am requesting a volunteer to replace me who will do just that.

Dogs are a huge problem here. Dogs are actually the hardest thing for me to adapt to culturally. I want to write a bit about how my views about dogs have or have not changed since I arrived in country. This is brought on by a quote I just found in a recent NPR article about Michael Vick's dogs:

"a famous Gandhi quote: "the greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." The idea being that in order to lift the whole of society, you must first prop up the lowest among its many parts. If you show good will and kindness toward those who cannot stand up for themselves, you set a tone of compassion and good will that permeates all."

Dogs and cats are often very mistreated. I like to say my cat won the kitty lottery when I plucked her from her mother over a year ago. My town is fascinated by my relationship with my cat and often ask me about Cleopatra as one would ask about a family member. When they see her, they often say how fat she looks and sometimes ask if she is pregnant. Cleo, by American cat standards, is not fat. But since she eats cat food every day she is much larger than the other cats in the community.

Dogs and cats here are seen as serving a very distinct function here in El Salvador- to scare off intruders and to kill rats, respectively. There are of course a few exceptions of houses that cuddle their dog and keep it in good shape. My host family has an abundance of cats that receives bread leftovers every day. These cats are the lucky ones.

What is painful is to see the people kick the dogs or hit them with big sticks to get them away. The dogs will leave on command but the people feel the need to go a step further. For this reason, nearly all dogs in this country can also be scared off with the mere action of lunging like you are gonna hit it or pretending to pick up a rock and throwing it. They have been trained to fear people. It's not uncommon for people to laugh as a dog runs off crying. This is what I had such a hard time getting used to. My American boss told me that by the end of my service I would hate the dogs like the people did. Her world view had changed since she'd been in country. In training, a fellow PCV once told me not to correct the little boy in her host family's house because it was culturally offensive to do so. I disagree. To this day, I almost always correct the children. I do not usually correct the adults usually because that I think is pushing it. Sometimes I wince in disapproval though to send a message of how unnecessary it is to hit. I still worry about and pity the dogs after two years here.

Sometimes I bust out bible reasoning about the treatment of animals. There are many things to use- Saint Francis of Assisi being the most obvious. As the patron saint of animals, I try to remind people that he and Jesus would not approve of the mistreatment of animals. The people usually agree but like with littering they often fail to make the real world connection.

In all fairness, after two years here, I can see where dogs are pests more than companions but that is because there is a total lack of animal control. Dogs roam the streets in gangs often raiding trash and getting into fights. The reason there are so many is because sterilization is nearly unheard of. When I told my doctor that I was bringing vets to sterilize the animals here, she said that the people would not likely agree to sterilize the male dogs because of the machismo culture.

The vets will be here for a week in November. I am praying we can get the 20-30 dogs/cat a day and reduce the animal population in the future. If not, people will continue to kill by poison or drown unwanted litters or worse let them grow up in the streets starving. The sight of a dog with its rib cage protruding out is not a something enjoyable to see multiple times a day.

Saturday in Yamabal. Took my time getting up this morning, cleaned out the pila which was starting to get foggy. Peace Corps put us on standfast (not allowed to leave our sites) last night until Monday because of a hurricane supposedly on the way. This would seem legitimate if 1) people were talking about the hurricane at all or 2) they had put us on the same security precautions two weeks ago when gangs caused a country-wide bus strike effectively shutting down the country for three days. PC, like most govt orgs I have ever worked for sometimes have their priorities misplaced. I didn't really care since I am planning on being in site all weekend and all next week.

I ate a small lunch since for some reason I am finally starting to gain weight instead of looking shockingly thin. I would be okay with the weight gain if it didn't only show up on my waist making me look like I am wearing a damn floaty. I mean seriously there are other areas that would gladly accept some extra cushioning!

It looked like it was going to rain all day but held off. Just in case, I took my umbrella and head out on foot to the field about 45 minutes away. I got to the next town just in time for the rain to start coming down in buckets. The roads became rivers of mud. I put on some Amy Winehouse and walked at turtle's pace...more like waded. I got a little lost especially when I arrived at what can only be described as orange rapids from the incredible amount of clay flowing with it. The ditch was so full that there was no way I was passing. So, I waited until someone showed me how to get to the field.

The rain finally let up and we were allowed to start our game. I didn't think we'd end up playing. Salvadorans have this weird belief that you can't bathe after you are active in some way. It will hurt your bones is what they say. Some PCVs concede that what they really mean is that a cold bucket bath and a warm body may not be good for ones muscles. In any case, we played or rather slopped through the first half going up 3-1. I was a muddy mess.

At halftime we got word that the bridge to get to my town fell. This was shocking and alarming because the bridge is not like a bridge you'd think of in a developing country. It is actually a real, rather large concrete bridge. Immediately I started thinking about how the hell I was going to get back to my house and who would feed my cat if I had to stay the night. I called my host mom who told me that the bridge was down but we could walk across it on foot. This was a relief but still weird.

The game started up again and I must say that at some point I looked over at our referee and he was relieving himself on the sideline. Yes, his back was turned but it never fails to shock me a bit to see the men go so openly here....wherever they please. My host mom's husband does it in full view of the street and I thank God that I have always managed to awkwardly keep looking straight ahead even as I greet him. During the game, I had to go the whole time...I will admit it made me slightly jealous that boys can do it wherever, whenever especially in this country.

We ended up dominating the second half and had an ending score of 8-1. I had a decent game on defense. I am truly enjoying soccer more and more and hope to play in the States.

After the game, we caught a ride with the opposing team to the bridge where we finally got to check it out. It was marked off-limits all around it like a crime scene but when we finally got up close it looked totally normal. I had to ask where it fell and then as we got to the other side I could see where about 2 yards of the bridge had sunk down. It was probably unstable and definitely impassible by vehicle but thankfully since I live so close to the bus stop on the other side of the bridge it won't hardly interrupt my schedule. However, it will interrupt the big project in November. There is supposedly a back country road that people used back in the day whenever the less-stable bridge would go out so we'll see. The thing I always think about in these situations is how helpless the people are here. That bridge could not be repaired for a very long time, as is the nature of the government. It's like a couple of weeks ago when my friend was telling me his truck was stolen in the city. It was just like that was that. The police would never find the car and there is no insurance to replace the car. It sucks.

Now, getting away from the deep stuff, there are some pretty significant changes I have noticed in myself. First, whereas before PC I had to try hard to read non-fiction it has now totally flipped. It is actually hard for me to read fiction. I feel like I am wasting my time by not acquiring knowledge with a non-fiction read. At the same time, I get anxious when my podcasts go unheard. There too is a new habit. A fellow PCV turned me onto podcasts while I was here (thanks, Eli!). Podcasts are now an extension of this anxiety about soaking up more information constantly. Maybe this can be attributed to my fellow PCVs. They are a group, as you can imagine, of (mostly) highly active citizens who constantly discuss current events, their impact, and their respective opinions on all matters. This can often lead to many wild opinions and what one friend says a love of being a "contrarian." Because of this, one finds themselves often feeling like they have to be able to effectively defend their positions at any gathering of PCVs. When I came into the Peace Corps, I was foggy on a few beliefs and always wary of labels- D, R, left, right, liberal, conservative. After a job interview about what label I would put on myself, I froze up and said something about being Catholic....like that was clarification. I felt like an idiot and made sure I did some major thinking about how I would handle this question in the future. Since then, because of that interview and my fellow PCVs, I feel like I can more comfortably give my positions and finally, sin pena, declare that I am a Democrat albeit a very disappointed one sometimes. I can also give you point-by-point my opinion on most hot-button issues and my reasoning.

Facebook has also become transformed to me. It reminds me of an old life that now seems very foreign to me. My newsfeed is about 70% sorority sisters and their still very sorority-like lives. 15% is my SG nerd/Capitol/PCV friends who, like me, fill their feeds with the latest political news and opinions or other nerdy adventures. The remaining 15% is misc. high school or family. That 70% is what weirds me out. And, I like to imagine it weirds them out if they happen to glance at my feed. (I like to imagine some of these sorority friends talking about me in passing conversation as one would talk about a friend who got into heavy drugs and is no longer part of normal society.) To see how much my life has changed is incredible, where my life would be if I had not decided to take a totally different route. It's definitely not better but it certainly is different.

Whereas once my Dad was reminding me that I needed to finish college on time, he now asks that I chill and try not to be serious all the time. In fact, when I told him about my podcasting he asked me to also try to listen to something non-political too. Maybe something fun ie. not so serious. However, my love of podcast and non-fiction signals not a turn to the ultra-serious but rather a obvious yearning to be back in the classroom. Yep, looks like grad school is in the immediate future.

It will be most interesting to me to see how I reintegrate into my life. How it will be to be back in Austin and run into my old friends-SG and sorority alike. What will my future FB photos show me doing? Who will I be running around with? What will I be wearing? PC tries to prepare us for getting back into our lives knowing that many of us have undergone major changes. The cheesy charlas will never really help though. You just appreciate the heads up of what about you are about to experience and pray for the best.

Ok, well there I went and got deep after I said I wouldn't. Oh well.

I recently read the book "The Massacre at El Mozote" which is about an event in 1981 that took place near where I live in El Salvador. In Mozote, over 900 civilians including hundreds of children were slaughtered in a campaign by a special forces unit of the Salvadoran army. Here are my thoughts on the book and the war:

A little under two years ago I witnessed the first ever change of government in El Salvador as the people voted in the leftist FMLN party over ARENA, the rightest who had ruled the country for its entire existence. At the time, I believed that the threat of a leftist Chavez-type victory would be dangerous here in El Salvador. I also believed that the left would bring little of the promised change. Now, I can say that only one of those was actually true. The government has made little changes but now I believe that even if the left had intended to become Chavez-esque that they would not have succeeded. The people of El Salvador are not ideologues and change comes painfully slow. The idea of an extreme-left takeover of this country seems laughable now.

The most important findings of this book include the atrocious behavior of the American government as they supported an Army that clearly lacked control or discipline. They continued to fund a war on civilians because they feared a communist takeover. As in other ridiculous situations with the same storyline of this time, it seems the American government had this deep-seeded fear of a shadow named Communism that might one day turn into a person and try to kill them. Oh, how wrong they were. Several times throughout this book it quotes American government officials as saying that the killing of a few hundred civilians was preferable to a communist victory. Because, apparently, a communist victory by definition meant doom for MORE civilians later.

Some other points I noted during my reading were:-The Salvadoran military officers had a distinct system whereby they became "kin" and sheltered each other and supported each other NO MATTER WHAT. This meant anything from shielding their companions from illegal acts they may have committed to supporting and even hand-picking the next president. -There was a little mentioned faction of "progressive" military officers who favored more centrist policies and working with the agitated left. Some of these officers later defected and joined the guerrilla fighters with much success for the leftist movement. -In many cases, civilians who were sympathetic to the left were killed simply because the left did not have the resources to protect their own people. They waged guerrilla war and the only way to protect their own was to have them flee. This is hard when you have lots of children, etc.-Many of the arms the guerrillas used were bought from the Salvadoran Army via soldiers looking to make a buck. -Most reminiscent of the Afghan war ie. Charlie Wilson's War quote about building schools before leaving a war zone : "If we don't kill them (the children) now, they'll just grow up to be guerrillas. We have to take care of the job now."-When trying to downplay the massacre, the US govt used as evidence the way the guerrilla army was pushing news of the massacre. The govt said that was proof that it was propaganda. Just the fact that it was being pushed, meant it probably wasn't true. -The people of El Mozote were part of a mass movement towards evangelicalism.The war is known to have catalyzed the left with the Catholic Church's liberation theology. The evangelicals had somehow managed to remain neutral in the eyes of the Army yet got caught up in one general's plan to weed out all the people with even remote cooperation with the left.

Knowing what I know now, after reading this book and spending two years here in El Salvador, it is pretty incredible that people are able to get on in a very civilized, Democratic way. Lots of blood was shed. I went to a cemetery just outside Mozote last Day of the Dead with a family in my community who saw an uncle and two brothers killed during the war. It's not like it was that long ago but yet people have been able to maintain a civilized way of dealing with each other. It is truly impressive.

A few months ago one of my former students, Roberto, started making preparations to go to the US illegally. His family had people living there and his brother had returned the year before. So he left and that was that. And then all of the sudden he was back! Today, I caught up with him....

The first question I asked him was, "How far did you make it?" (Roberto doesn't know any English and he actually did quite poorly in my class so this whole conversation was in Spanish.) He said he made it Houston and that's where they got him and all the others he was riding in a truck with. He ran but ICE caught him and every other person in the truck. They took him to a detention center in a small town I didn't recognize. I asked him how long he was in detention. He said," Oh, 18 days. It was much faster than the last time." I laughed to myself. I hadn't realized this was not his first time being deported. I read recently that they were expediting the deportation process by doing proceedings in big groups. I asked if this is what happened with him. He said it was and also went on to explain that next time he hoped to have a paper saying he was a political refugee. (He's not.) He seemed to think that that was an effective way to get out of being deported. He was going to consult the Social Studies teacher at school for help.

My third question was, "How did they treat you?" He said, "Bad. You know why? They hit us. The people in your country are pretty racist huh? They treated us like criminals....tying up our arms and our legs." I didn't like hearing this and now looking back, I have more questions which I will have to ask later.

Finally, we started talking about how he was going for his third try in January. For whatever reason, I started to think about how I would do it if I were him. I told him that I thought he should leave the group when he got to McAllen. (They cross at Reynosa, apparently. Once they see the checkpoint they get off the truck and walk for 3 days AROUND the checkpoint.) It seemed to me that riding in a truck of 20 illegals on the highway to Houston was asking to get caught. I told him it would probably be better to take a bus in McAllen. He asked if they check papers on the buses. It then occurred to me that I had never once ridden a Greyhound in my life so this advice was probably bad. I was telling him he should just hang out and find a nice person in McAllen to help him. They all speak Spanish! This too though had its problems....

Soon, we were talking about me moving back to Texas. He, of course, started to ask what would happen if I picked him up in McAllen. Me?! Oh dear Lord. I told him I could probably be arrested too. "Even if you tell them I work for you?" Yes, because then they'd ask for my papers for you. It was at this point that I settled on a church. Find a church! People in churches will always help.

After awhile it became clear that I was not going to be able to help him and my advice was shoddy at best. It does, however, remind me that I need to talk to the local Coyote and learn more about his side of the process...

Since I wrote about bad things at school yesterday I should probably write about the good day at school today.

I have been teaching a seminar class at the high school. The topic is making recycled crafts- jewelry and wallets made out of magazines and chip bags. I haven't done much work at the hs during my service but when I was asked to teach this class, I agreed. I had already taught recycled crafts to my kids in primary school but, as expected, the older kids in the hs picked it all up much quicker and with enthusiasm. So far, it's been a good class.

Today, I was pleasantly surprised when another teacher came in to announce who had been assigned "working detention" for being late to arrive at school. The idea of Salvadorans being punished for being tardy floored me. Salvadorans are notorious, even to themselves, for being late. Hora Salvadorena means half an hour late (at least.) After I thought about it though it wasn't that surprising. The HS Directora is super on top of things. When she wants something done, it gets done. At the moment, she wants a wall painted. To get it done, everyone who is late must stay after school and paint it. The kids seem to understand this and no one made a fuss. Overall, a good system that I wish the primary school would adopt.

The second good thing that happened is I had a cadre of 4th graders helping me to organize my library. I have been working for weeks on end to get the library finished before I leave country. It is tedious work unwrapping all the packets of hundreds of books, putting a sticker to designate the reading level, and then putting tape to reinforce the spine. But, together with my 4th graders, we knocked out in 2.5 hours what I would usually do in a week or two. As their reward, I bought them all ice cream. Still tons of work to do but they were an enormous help.

There are two things I had never experienced until I moved here:

One- I have never gotten cat calls and felt so sexually harassed in my life as I have here multiple times. It is even worse when like today it is a 7th grader blatantly checking out my ass and then making some comment or noise to let me know I am hot. I once told another 7th grader (who seemed to understand my humiliation and therefore kept doing it) that if he didn't stop than I would call the police. He subsequently dropped out of school. He came back this year but has yet to bother me at all.

Two- The spelling here is horrific. They have an extremely hard time distinguishing between S and C as well as B and V. It's even more painful when, like today, I was teaching my basic computer class to 4 teachers. I asked them to write a paragraph for me. When I looked in, most had terrible terrible spelling. I mean like really bad spelling. Part of that is because teachers here are not required to have a college degree and the other part is that job security here is incredible. You can be a terrible teacher and hang around until retirement.

Late edit:I should mention that dropping out in 7th grade is really common. In fact, in the past 2 weeks I have seen one pregnant walking around with her bf and another delivered her baby yesterday. There is no mandatory age they have to stay in school. What puzzles me is why they would elect to not hang out with their friends all day and just sit around the house. If anything, school is more fun than being a home....but maybe that's just me....

There was bat excrement all over my floor when I came home yesterday. I figured it was just bc my door was open and they flew in the dark and enjoyed it while I was gone. Nope, turns out I made a very smart move when I first got to my house 2 years ago-- closing up the holes. There is space between the walls and ceilings that connect me and the unoccupied room next door. This is where bats are flying in. I never had a problem in two years except now bc the coverings have fallen down. Now, I have to find a guy to put them back up. I thought me being back would stop the bats but no, this morning more bat shit all over my floor. F.

People keep asking what I am most excited about and what I plan to do when I get back home. I, too, keep thinking about this and have decided to share my running, mental list here (no particular order):Visit all the Texas state parksLearn how to sew from a cute Mexican lady who will speak Spanish to meLearn how to build furniture (www.knock-offwood.com) Start more craft projects (www.oneprettything.com)Shop on SoCo moreVisit more garage sales...that's my Amarillo shout-out :)Garden more with the huge nurseries that are available to me in the US!Pilates, yoga-lates...I need you back in my life!This is just what I can think of at the moment. I will be adding more as I think of them. Have any suggestions?

(Design by the talented Brian Carville. The softball player is Cat. Great, huh?)

Saturday was the softball camp I have been planning for since last December when I solicited the help of Longhorn (and Olympic) Great, Cat Osterman, and an US organization called Kids to Kids. They both were eager to help support girl's softball in my site. Cat donated 11 gloves, 2 bats and catcher's gear-- an in-kind donation like none other. The new equipment arrived in June and was absolutely beautiful and high quality. K2K put up $500 for the camp costs- drinks, snacks, shirts, transport, etc. It was a great undertaking that took lots of planning and 6 PC volunteers to organize.

On Saturday five teams (about 50 girls) arrived to participate in a softball school and tournament. I was running around like crazy making sure drinks/snacks were there and everyone had what they needed. Unfortunately, I was having to also guard the gate so my own team didn't wander off. Not only do Salvadoran children have a wandering habit but there was also another event going on that they were itching to go to. I told them that they could go to the other event but that there were other girls who wanted to attend the camp that I had to reject that would be willing to stay all day. So they had a choice. In the end, they all decided they would stay all day. Girls started asking to go to the bathroom. Of course, I should have suspected something but I am trusting. I let them go 2 at a time until the first 3 didn't come back and my other girls told me they had left for the other event. Now, it was only 11 am and the camp was scheduled until 4. Some other girls had showed up just to play even though they didn't get the invite. So, I called the girls who left and told them to please send their t-shirts for the other girls to wear. I was mad that they left and lied to me but it was whatever. The rest of the campers were having a great time and I was running around all day trying to get good pictures of all of it. Finally, we ended camp ahead of schedule around 2:30. After eating all 20 cucumbers, the girls lined up to turn in the gloves, balls, and bats. It was at that time that we discovered we had only 8 out of 11 gloves. Now, two of the gloves were very distinct: one was a much larger glove for catchers and one was for lefties and had different markings. The third missing glove looked like the rest. I asked the girls where they were and they told me that the three girls who left early had hidden the gloves in their shirts when they left. I was angry but also cautious to cast blame. I wasn't entirely convinced it was the three girls because no one wants to believe that and I didn't even know if those girls had those particular gloves. I told all the girls I wanted the gloves back and I didn't care who turned them in. I should mention here that the other 3 teams who participated didn't ever have possession of the gloves mostly because my girls were very possessive of the gloves....they were not going to share. So, that is how we ended camp. I was obviously upset but the other volunteers assured me that the kids had a great time and that the camp was a success.

Sunday morning I decided to upload the pictures to my computer. I had taken more than 60 and was anxious to send them to Cat and K2K along with a big thank you. As I was going through them I saw that I had taken pictures of players I will now refer to as 1, 2 and3. Player 1 had the big catcher's mit, Player 2 had a normal one, and Player 3 had the lefty glove. I was shocked! Not only was it crazy coincidence that I happened to take pictures of all three of them, but THOSE gloves were on THEIR hands. Now, I was convinced that the other girls were telling the truth that the three had in fact stolen the gloves. So, I called my school director who said she thought the girls had just borrowed them and would return them Monday morning. I highly doubted this but waited to see anyways. Both of the families were not people I was willing to confront. So, Monday morning I went to the school and she said no one had returned them. So, we decided to call them in. Player 3 had to be called from her house because she goes to school in the afternoon and so she arrived first. I should explain some of the history between me and player 3.

Player 3 was my best student. She was the girl who I had proclaimed to many people that I would pay for her to go to University. She is the one I trusted to come feed Cleo,my cat, whenever I was not in town. She has a really tough home life- her parents divorced, remarried, and left her and her little brother with her grandma while they continued to have other children and lives blocks away. Neither one wanted to take care of their kids from their previous marriage. Her grandma was a good friend to me. She gave me free fertilizer and she lent me a stove and a refrigerator for the duration of my service. Then, in December, she suddenly died of a brain aneurysm. It was out of nowhere and terribly sad. The family had to find money last minute to pay for the body to be release from the hospital. I gave them $50 to help out. After I got back from Christmas break, things had changed. The family demanded it all back and yelled at me in the street when I asked them to help me pay for the $80 in repairs that I had had to pay when they gave me the fridge 5 months earlier. It was a very sad end to a relationship I had really valued. More sad was that the adults were putting the kids in the middle. So, needless to say, I don't hang out with that family anymore and Player 3 doesn't come over anymore.

So, back the the school office, Player 3 arrives before the others and I ask her if she has anything she would like to tell me. She says no and that she doesn't know why she is there. Then, the other two arrive. Player 1 and 2 both have a reputation for lying and being malcriadas. When the school director arrives, she talks and then I explain how three gloves are missing and the other players said that the 3 girls had taken them. P1 and P2 act offended immediately and start saying how they left their gloves with other players. My director starts furiously writing the names of these other girls. Then, P1 says she knows a girl who hid a glove in a tree but she doesn't want to accuse anyone or tell on her. They start saying how other people stole balls and they themselves are not guilty. They too have witnesses they can call. Finally, we call other girls who had accused them to the office and now they say they weren't accusing but that the other girls in the afternoon had. So now we have wait until the afternoon to talk to those accusers. Now, we have a list of people who P1 and P2 say have the gloves and they will be called in an interrogated. My director ends by saying it is the teams responsibility to recover the gloves. Player 1 offers her own glove in order to prove her innocence. My director says that if the gloves aren't found then parents will be called. Player 1 brazenly says, "call my parents!" She is so convincing that one of the teachers who was supposedly on my side starts stroking her hair to comfort her from my "accusations." But, I maintain aloud that the coincidences are too great and I even show them all the photos. After all is said that could be said, they start filing out to return to class but Player 3 lingers and tell us, "I have a glove." The director asks why she didn't speak up sooner and she says it was because she wasn't given a chance to talk and then she says she didn't steal it. She didn't know she was not going to return to camp. The other girls made her leave. She also says that the other two girls have gloves too. In any case, I say I am glad she told the truth and I know that it is hard to do it in front of her friends. I understand it is easier done in confidence. I told her how much I used to believe in her and that I think she is better than this. I tell her I hope she knows that she is special and should not hang out with other girls (who are unfortunately her cousin and her neighbor). She goes to her house and brings me the glove just as I am leaving the school. I say thank you and go to my house. When I get to my house she is there again to apologize. I repeat how great of a kid I think she is and how I know that if she stays on the right path she can accomplish anything she wants. I remind her how she is the smartest girl in her class.

In the end, I am glad the truth came out but am still having a hard time deciding what to do even if I get the gloves back. As in many times during my service, I feel like the kids in my community don't appreciate things enough and the adults are not as supportive as they should be. I keep thinking about the community I am working in up the mountain to get clean water and latrines. They are a much poorer community. Their team also attended the camp. They were extremely well-behaved. It makes me wonder if they would appreciate the new equipment much more...

There is a truck that regularly runs through the communities of El Salvador serving their favorite additive/spice- salt. What is unique about this truck is not only the fact that it blares over its speakers "CHUTON-CITY!", it is actually that someone sees the need to sell salt in mass quantities. $2 buys you a fair amount but then $8 will buy you a quintal. When I google translated what a quintal was, it said- quintal. So apparently it's the same in English. According to Google, a quintal is 100 kg. I still have no idea what a 100 kg so I continued to Google. As it turns out, Salvadorans are even crazier than I previously thought. 100 kg is equal to 220 lbs!!!! So taking this new information, you have to think culturally, why is this significant? In Salvadoran culture, they lack that unique cooking culture that Mexicans seemed to have preserved so well. I attribute this to the genocide of the native population in this country. Many traditions- food, language, and otherwise- were lost. Salt somehow became a main ingredient in most food here. It is such a necessary mineral that when you are served an already salty dish of chicken and rice it is quite normal to be given a big tub of salt or a teaspoon side of salt on your plate...just in case it wasn't salty enough.

The love of salt is only matched by their love of sugar which is also purchased in mass quantities for their drinks. But that is another story for another day...

I discovered this at some point earlier in my service. I can count at least 2 times in the two years that I seriously considered leaving. There were many more not-so-serious times but those two times were daunting times in my life here. It was during those times when so many questions came to pass- What would I say to my community and my friends about leaving early? How ashamed would I feel? Could I hold my head up back at home when people knew I was home earlier than expected? Could I honestly tell people I served in the Peace Corps even if I didn't complete my service?

Sometimes I wonder if I would have made it if I had had the courage to face all of the above questions. I am glad I made it even if I basically shamed myself into pushing ahead, working through my problems. I try to remind myself of this when people quit or are thinking about quitting. PC is not for everyone and man, it is hard. Hard physically and emotionally. You face some tough stuff here.

Peace Corps is not what you expect and its hard to explain to people. This is probably why every chance we get together, us volunteers go into major bitch-about-El-Salvador sessions. I sometimes feel bad about it but then I think about those volunteers and if someone from the States comes and starts talking shit about Salvadorans, PCVs are the first people to defend them and their ways. I have concluded that this is because we consider Salvadorans our family in some ways. We are allowed to bitch about them because we know them and live among them but you can't because you don't really know them and their amazing qualities. They are not your family. Much like a sibling: I can talk shit about my sister when I am mad at her but don't you dare. It is an unspoken rule.

I find myself, unfortunately, invoking an Aggie saying when it comes to the Peace Corps: From the outside looking in you don't understand it, from the inside looking out you can't explain it.

Next week is my close-of-service conference. This means that it is all finally coming to an end. It's really weird to think I have been here for two years....

People always expect to be changed by an experience this big and, yeah, I am sure I have changed a bit but mostly I think I brought to the surface more of who I already was but didn't really wear on my sleeve. I think I am more aware, more resourceful, more appreciative, and definitely more confused about development. I care about seeing things, experiencing things, making things happen and care much less about what I am wearing, what kind of phone I have, or really anything at all of my possessions that doesn't make my life easier (ie. a toaster...I really wish I had a new toaster...the stove kind) I love not caring. I hope I can continue to not care about things like that. I really hope that when I get back to the States I can remember that my money is for a cause or an experience and not for making my life 'prettier'.

It took me a really long time to get to this point. For even a year into my service, I was still dreaming about the spa, a new car when I got home, and a new wardrobe. Granted, I will still get a car (used) and will need to buy new clothes when I get home but I feel a bit liberated by not caring too much about either. I am more focused on keeping my Spanish up, planning trips with my family, and figuring out exactly what to do with the last three years of experience I have racked up. I keep thinking about what community cause I will get myself into as a Returned Volunteer.

People in my community keep asking if it is true that I am leaving. I say yes. They ask me if I am glad to go home and if I will come back. I say that I have mixed feelings and that I will most likely come visit but will not live here. I really do hope I come visit. It's a hard thing about being a volunteer. So many people took care of me here that I feel like I am turning my back on them by leaving. Two volunteers before me have never come back and I always feel guilty when I hear it. However, why should I? Why should they? I remind people here that my family is in the States as is my life. I want to get married, have kids, etc. And, of course, I am going to do that all in the States. It's a hard balancing act (mostly in my head) about what to do with this place after I am gone.

I will no longer have internet available in my house starting sometime this week. I signed an 18 month contract and it expires this month. I am looking forward to be internet-free for a bit. Lots of reading and thought-collecting to do in my last few months here in El Salvador.

Well, Sarah left. The 5th day was wild with Sarah having what appears to be food poisoning. She had a terrible stomach ache followed by her seizing up. I had to slap her several times in the face until she came back to consciousness. It was scary but we decided to keep going to the Capital and take her to the ER there. The bus ride was about 3 miserable hours long. We got her immediately to the doctor who put her on an IV because she was severely dehydrated. She started feeling much better. We were sort of dreading the bill but in the end it came out to $22. Really makes you hope health care in America is changing soon. I mean we were at a private really nice hospital in San Salvador where only people with money can afford. But, for an IV with some meds and thats it, it seems like what you should be paying! The prescriptions where more than the hospital bill at $49. We rested up for the night and the next day we headed to the beach to relax for 3 days. Almost as soon as we got there, we met a very good looking English traveller. We subsequently spent the nearly the entire time at the beach hanging out with him and my bf. We had a great, lazy time and had absolutely no plans. We napped when we wanted, we ate when we got hungry, and spent countless hours in the pool. We even ended the beach trip with a homemade shrimp dinner. We ran into a shrimper selling his goods to the restaurants and bought about 3 lbs from him. It was perfect.

Thursday we took our time leaving the beach and made our way back to the Capital. We did a sushi feast then went to a nice bar (Englishman still in tow). Friday morning we got up early and Sarah went back to the States.

That afternoon we took the Englishman back to our sites to show him the "real" El Salvador. On the way back though, the AC was on like 50 degrees. This usually isn't that bad except it wasn't even hot outside so I caught a terrible cold. All day yesterday we were showing the Brit around and I was sneezing and disgusting. My bf told me this morning that I smelled like a sick person. Sweet.

I finally got some sleep last night which was remarkable since the town had a baile last night. I usually hang out on those nights but my body needed lots of sleep which it thankfully got. This whole next week is Agostinas, the week long vacation period for all of Central America. No schools, no mayor's office....just sleep and rest.

Day 1: Very not El Salvador. She got to the airport late so all we did is eat dinner (Taiwanese) and sleep in a hotel.

Day 2: Woke up before 6 am to catch the early bus back to my site. Hauled 10 lbs of pinto beans y mas that she brought me! Left our bags on the bus while we went to buy fabric for new dresses to be made and the bus left with our stuff! We couldn't get them until the bus passed by 2 hours later. Luckily my neighbors were home and I was able to get in the house. Then, we went to the school where we made jewelry with my small business class and I talked to during the school parent assembly. Then, we went to the chicken farm where I buy eggs. Then, pupusas which Sarah LOVED. Early bed time. Only got through half of Star Wars.

Day 3: Sarah slept in until 9:30. Then we went to visit a family who killed two chickens in celebration of us visiting them. We went to the river with the kids then rushed back to site to catch the cow truck which took us to our soccer game with my team. Sarah scored the first goal and I had an assist in our 5-0 game. The first half was the worst imaginable dried mud field and the second half was pouring rain that made the mud feel like bricks on your feet. The 15 year old referee liked watching us play so much he let the second half go on for about 1 hour and 15 minutes until Sarah got cleeted so bad we had to carry her off the field.

Day 4: Woke up to Addie's french toast and we lucked out and caught a ride into town to catch a pick-up which took us to a moto-taxi that took us to the place where we also lucked out and caught a pick-up with people who drove us all the way to the waterfalls we wanted to see. They had never seen them and were planning on going to the cemetery that day to visit his mother until we came along with a better plan for the day. It worked out AMAZING and saved us about 3 hours in a round-trip hike. We swam in an amazing waterfall and drank its amazingly crisp water. Then, it started pouring so we suffered a very very cold ride in the back of the truck. All of our dry clothes then became wet. We ate lunch then froze in another pick up back to town where we got a bus home and cooked dinner for ourselves.

So far so great!!!

- I'll make a good wife because I know how to make tortillas.- Cleo kills a bat. - I have now met two English speaking Salvadorans who swear they never took a class or spent much time in the States. They learned English by watching TV and listening to music. One guy says it was his love of Pearl Jam and the possession of their lyrics as he sang along.

Or, "Would you rather be blind or deaf?" Remember that game where you sit around and choose between two really not great options? That is how I felt this weekend when I spent the whole weekend on the mountain with Engineers without Borders as they took measurements and water samples for the water and sanitation project they will start in October.

The first day we went up the awful 1.5 hour road and held a community meeting. Many community members showed up and we were able to get a good sampling. The main goal was to ask what project they would like most- clean water, electricity, latrines, or a more passable road. That is when it started reminding me of that game I mentioned before. Can you imagine choosing between all those choices which ALL sound pretty necessary? Well, a percentage of the families live with all those things and greater percentage live with only some or NONE of those things. They drink water as it comes out of the ground, they used oil lamps at night, and if they need to go to the bathroom they find the nearest bush. So, really, any choice is a good one. What do you guess they all voted for? Latrines. They all said they wanted places to do their business and not contaminate the ground water. However, the results were skewed bc Salvadorans have a tendency to vote with their neighbor. Later, many more people said clean water was a priority (when they weren't being influenced by their neighbor.)

The next day, we returned to the community to take measurements (elevation, locations of existing latrines and water springs) as well as gather samples of water in different parts of the community to see where was most contaminated. The engineer very prepared for the trip with a nice rain jacket and NYC skyline-painted rain boots. I soon regretted my under-preparedness when it started pouring rain. Instead of helping all day my co-project coordinator, Laura, had to lead the way all day as I sat holed up in her room. blah. But, they got lots of good samples and we made it down the mountain after hitting up the last house a bit too late at night and were greeted by a man with a giant gun. (ha sounds like Texas!)

It was a successful weekend that was highlighted by two more great things. One, by Laura and I "winning" this project over the other PCVs who bid for it, we managed to not only gain this project but a five year commitment to our community for this and other projects! So, that means the next 5 years my community can engage EWB for other necessary projects. Second, a doctor from El Sal who was travelling with us, met our local counterpart (and my soccer friend) who is 21 and great. She can't afford to go to college and as we were discussing this the doctor said he might be able to get her a scholarship to study nursing. Very exciting! This week I will sit her down and talk through it with her. It would mean leaving home for a far off place and for awhile so I will have to gauge her reaction. Much like in the States, its hard to leave home to go to college but even more so here. Families are much closer knit and usually spend their whole lives in the same house or town.

All in all, a really great weekend. Looking forward to having the engineers back in October even if they might mess up my debut weekend at home in Texas :)

Through a generous donation from the Rotary Club of Pensacola and an extremely hard-working volunteer, around 20 schools (mine included) received brand-new libraries. The books are gorgeous and it finally gave the my school the push it needed to get their own library in gear.

These past fews weeks has had me do endless amounts of organizing, labeling, and cleaning. Though we went to a training on how to properly code books, it just isn't for El Salvador or, at least, my school. The system is onerous and un-useful in a small school like ours where no one has ever or likely will ever see what a public library is. So, I decided that organizing it by level/grade was the best way and it seems to be working out beautifully. The sections are marked and the kids are slowing learning which shelves to direct themselves to. The marking though is taking all of my time and rendering me exhausted at the end of each day. It makes me quite fearful of how I'll do back in the States on a real work schedule!

In other news, July is the month schools start preparing for their independence celebrations. The cachiporas start learning their dance routines and the band starts practicing. I take that back, the band is formed and starts practicing. It's so interesting to me that the kids only play the instruments 2 months out of the year. The rest of the year they are stored away in a gross, wet storage room.

I am super busy this month. This weekend Engineers without Borders are coming to take measurements for the water system and latrines they will be installing in October. So, that with the library is taking lots of my time. It's good though. I will make one last push to complete my library project and then I'll be off!

Soccer tournaments are huge events here. They typically include: lots of people from all different communities, several vendadoras with their giant cooking stoves to serve pupusas, and a local DJ-esque person who brings with him several loud speakers and makes seemingly funny comments along with very loud music played non-stop even during games and penalty kicks. Oh, and let's not forget a handful of town drunks who, like today, wandered onto mid-field while we were playing.

I was about 2 hours and 2 games late by the time I got there and noticed cow poop on my leg...I hate when that happens. I looked around and saw all the above mentioned but also a pleasant view of the volcano. I love the idea of living under a volcano...especially one that is dormant and sometimes frothy.

Our team won, pretty much with no thanks to me. I only got to play in one game of 15 minute halves. And, I was out of it. I had waited for about an hour for a bus that never came and ended up having to do the 30 minute uphill walk by myself. That, and I was so immediately surprised how physical the team we were playing was. I love a physical team. I love being physical on the field. It is why I like soccer. In this game though, I seemed to always be in the wrong spot and barely got more than a few touches. Oh well. Some games are like that. I almost didn't go but it seemed with less than 4 months left here that I should take advantage of events like these.

*On a side note: One of my teammates was gossiping with another lady about a Salvadoran girl who had just gotten here from the States. My teammate said she seemed like she thought she was too good for the people here. I stopped listening again until I heard her say, "Look Adelina is from the US and the mosquitoes don't bite her." I jokingly said they do. Then, I looked over at the girl who she was trying to make a case against...her legs were filled with mosquito bites. I figured it better not to tell my teammate that I am a heavy user of OFF.

Salvadorans/Latinos have a different idea of what "disturbance of peace" is. They notoriously blast music in the buses (even on the 5 am bus ride) to the point where you can't have a reasonable conversation or if the bus lacks music one person will put on their own portable radio. Even better is when the bus is showing a movie and a passenger decides his music is better than the movie and instead of using headphones, permits all around him to enjoy his unwanted distraction. It can be one of the most annoying parts of the culture here.

On the weekends, I can usually count on the bolos to play loud music when they are drinking but last night it only slightly surprised me to hear Evangelicals proselytize over a loud speaker (in a town of 4x4 blocks) until past 11 o'clock at night...trying to get God's word in amongst your nightly dreams.

It's not only the fact that they don't take into consideration other people when they decide to play music too loud. Rather, its the fact that EVERYONE else seems to never be bothered by it. Only us control-freak Americans gets all wound-up about it. I wish I could say that they had the better take on this....you know, letting things roll but for whatever reason it reminds me of the smoking ban. I don't care if you smoke but when your smoking endangers my health THEN I have a problem. Ok ok, granted loud music isn't endangering my immediate health but it does add an unhealthy dose of anxiety. Wow, I'm digging a hole here. Ya no mas.

It's the middle of the night. I can't sleep. I guess I have a lot on my mind. Cleo seems to be begging me for us to go to bed. She keeps curling up in my arms right in front of the keyboard.

I have exactly 4 months left as a PCV. I can't believe it. I am constantly thinking about moving back home- what phone plan to get, should I get a car, when will I start work, taking Cleo to the vet and getting her adjusted, travelling around before I go home, etc. They are swirling about and about.

I feel like this experience is very much like most things in my life- rushed and not appreciated until sometime afterwards. I suddenly find myself nervous to leave, exactly how I felt right before I left LA. I know I will cry when I leave my community especially when I say good-bye to a handful of people. I feel a panic attack coming on....the kind you can actually feel in your skin and throat. The Pearl Jam in the background doesn't seem to help.

My friend, Alissa, sent me Texas Monthly today in a package of goodies from home. It is the issue where people from Texas write about what Texas means to them. Many of the people no longer live in Texas but will forever call it home. A lot of the people talk about what they miss or what they remember. So, that’s what I am going to do right now. I am also going to end with a big resolution to get to know Texas even better when I get back. Floresville. When I think about small town living, I think of Floresville. It is where my parents dumped me on the weekends with my grandparents. My grandma owned a convenience store located next to her house. By the age of 5, I could wake up by myself, dress myself, and walk next door for breakfast- a Butterkrust honey bun that I always microwaved for about 5 seconds. I didn’t eat chorizo as a kid but I did eat beans and cheese tacos. NO ONE had better refried beans than my Mamo. The day would go on with me hanging around the store, watching endless amounts of TV, taking outside showers with the hose (she had indoor plumbing but how cool to shower outside!!), and eventually turning in by watching the lottery numbers and the 10 o’clock news with a bowl of Blue Bell ice cream. As I grew older, the routine also included Archie comic books. The cousins. Floresville was its most fun whenever my two aunts and my mother all decided to dump us on our grandma for a week or two during the summer. Those were the best days of hide and seek, exclusive clubs, trampoline, water fights, raw cookie dough, sneaking endless amounts of candy and cash from our grandparents and their store (shame on us). We went to the local library and ventured out to the grocery store when we finally got older. Summer stories include: the “pardon me” story, “Leticia’s cheese pizza” story, capture the puppy played by beating each other with tennis rackets (oh yeah Fville had tennis courts my oldest cousins pretended to know how to use), taking Papo Church’s chicken and honey biscuits at the Ranchito, eating Cow Camp ribs (for most of my life just a business run out of a shed), “meetings” with Papo where we appointed a chaplain, a president, and alderman and other worthless positions, trips to the Dairy Queen in the back of Papo’s truck, and of course praying the rosary many, many times. Summer in Floresville was amazing. I love the sound of the cicadas during the scorching hot days and the clear, endless blue skies. Most of all I loved those summers with my cousins. I swore when I grew up we would live next store to each other and our kids would have summers like us. My cousin Leticia and I would correspond by letter during the year when she went back home to St. Louis. We got so into the idea of pen pals. She took it a step further one year and got us on a ton of different pen pal chain letters. People from all over the States were on these. And then one year it got crazy when somehow I got on a chain letter in Croatia and for a year or so tons of kids from Croatia practiced their English by writing to me. It got to the point where I was actually selective about who I wrote back to. I am so sad I never kept up the correspondence looking back and hope one day I find some of those old letters stored away somewhere if only for proof that I am not making it up. I could kick myself now for not seeing how cool that was back then. Oh the days before internet. Ranchito. My grandparents own a piece of property just south of San Antonio by Calaveras Lake. As a child, it was home to my grandpa’s ever-growing junk…I mean, antique shop. It was also home to various illegal immigrants over the years whom passed through helping my grandparents maintain the grounds. Growing up, I never could talk to them since I didn’t speak Spanish. Visits to the ranchito included feeding whatever type of animal living there at the moment. It wasn’t until PC that I remembered at one point they had like 500 rabbits when I was in elementary school. The ranch was where we barbecued, did Easter egg hunts, had sandia fights where my Mamo would launch the black seeds at me and, of course, taught me how to as well. The ranchito was just another part of life to me. Amarillo. Every year my sister and I got to spend one or two weeks in Amarillo with my dad’s family. Occasionally, we went Southwest but most always we did the nearly 10 hour drive. Usually, my dad would drive us to Sterling City(the best halfway point I guess) and my grandparents would meet us there. We always met at the Dairy Queen where we would eat lunch then follow my dad and grandpa out to the municipal 9-hole golf course next door. (By now, I am starting to see a reoccurring theme of DQ in my life and all over the State.) Dad and grandpa always played the holes while my sister and I caddied. We were usually the only ones on the course and really I am sure most people of the town never golfed there or maybe even considered it a real course. It was always in pretty shabby condition and usually solicited some comment from my Grandpa who played golf weekly. After they wrapped up, we said good-bye to my dad and made the rest of the trip to Amarillo always passing by Bryant Blvd in XXXX and always convinced it was named after a distant relative. In Amarillo, we always did one thing and that was make lots of cookies. We spent hours baking cookies with my grandma who one year when we were little bought us our own baking kits that we LOVED. For most of our childhood, we were the only grandkids. When I was eleven, Elizabeth was born but still too young to really get in on the cooking-making action. Amarillo is cow country and never lets you forget it. The place is flat, dry and smells like a cow ranch. We went to church, we ALWAYS went shopping and hid the bags from Grandpa, we always did an awesome family trip to Wonderland, we watched lots of TV, and we always had Grandpa’s famous shrimp nights. Grandma’s house looking back now is more like home to me than any other house on earth. It is the one stable place in my life that is still in my family. I can honestly say now that my love to politics and political debates came from that house as I listened to my conservative family talk politics around the kitchen counter. I love going “home” to Amarillo still. I make it a point to stay there for at least a week, once a year even now. It’s not because Amarillo is beautiful- it’s not. It is because of my family. Seeing them all in the kitchen laughing and arguing is heaven to me. In fact, I am forgoing the only UT game I can make it to this year in order to be at Thanksgiving with them. THAT should tell you just how much they mean to me.Resolution. As I get older, I find that there are so many parts of Texas I have yet to explore. I am constantly told by my Lousiana-born and bred bf that he "knows" Austin better than me. Thankfully, my friend Daniel has agreed we will engage in major Texas travelling and camping when I get back. I want to see ALL the state parks we started to see one year when my mom decided we needed a season pass and proceeded to see 3 out of God only knows how many. We will do it and YOU are invited.

There I was sitting on the bus back to my site in normal fashion- I was taking up two seats with three boxes (laptops for the health clinic and packages from the States), my backpack of overnight stuff, and groceries. I always see someone I know on the bus. In fact, a couple of bus rides back I joked to at least 3 people that my whole town was on the bus. Even when I don’t know someone on the bus you can’t bet someone knows me. Peace Corps talks in training and apparently when you leave about the “rock star” status volunteers have in their own community. Some communities have never seen or met an actual white person when their volunteer arrives, and some just love to stare at the 6 foot tall men with blond hair as they walk by. PC reminds us it’s a status to be preserved and cuidar’d. They also remind you that some people have a hard time adjusting to the non-rock star status they have when they return home. I don’t feel like a rock star but maybe that’s because people don’t stare at me like they do my white-er friends. I, not surprisingly, blend in fairly well. That is, until I open my mouth. Today, I found myself on the bus waiting for it to finally take off. And, low and behold, the lady next to me smiles at me like she knows me and makes a comment about my packages. Then, she makes a comment to her daughter about her papers being in English. I, of course, knew what was coming next- visa application. It is probably the fifth time or so that I have read those documents for someone. They are all exactly the same. This woman turned out to be the mother of a seventh grader at school thus one of my students and was hoping I could read English and help her with the papers. I reminded her to make sure she sends a copy of all the documents listed and include the paper with the bar code. She was very happy for the help and I was happy to help her. I assured her if she needed more help she knew where to find me. Whenever someone finds out you are from the US, they questions are always the same. They are aching for comparisons, confirmation, or denial of life in the States. This also happened today. In the beginning of my service, I felt like I was lying a lot. But now I know what I say is true. They are totally different and one is not better than the other. El Salvador has its problems but so does the US. Here, life is so tranquilo and simple. Most people in the campo aren’t rich and probably could use more money but they can also live off the land and many own their own houses, albeit very basic. Life in the States can be onerous-debt, fads, debt. We don’t live off the land, we get bogged down in mortgages, and we want the next iPhone. In El Salvador, it is unthinkable for someone to lose their home and most families all live on the same property. I love the US and want to be there more than ever some days but I wish Salvadorans would appreciate the simplicity of life here sometimes. I don’t encourage them to immigrate north but some do it out of necessity. I may not like their decision to go north, but in the end I am a fiery defender of their right to work and be treated with respect.

Cleo killed her first rat! Today I came home and there was a big ole dead rat in the middle of my room. I am very proud of her. Though she doesn't feel like I am proud of her since I gave her the oh-so-evil bathe down. Changed my sheets too. I will mop the floor tomorrow tho bleach all over the area where I found it should suffice for now.

It's the little things that your mom does that make a difference. Hand-washing clothes and other rough parts of life in El Salvador require a needle and thread sometimes- undergarments, jeans, etc. My mom gave me a two things I will never forget when I went to college- a sewing kit she put together (not a store-packed one) and a big ole first aid kit she also personally assembled. I made sure that sewing kit came with me on this trip and it has definitely been used more than a few times.

Another random mom thought I have that I'll throw out because my mom absolutely loves when I have random memories of her mentioned in my blog is this: sun-made tea. I have random memories of seeing the glass jug outside the house with some tea packets in it roasting under a Texas summer sun. Here in El Salvador it would be entirely possible to do the same. I don't mainly because I am pretty sure it would grow mold. But, I have started making ice tea for the first time in my life. It always makes me think of my mom. Hot tea has always been a favorite of mine but really impractical in the tropical weather so ice tea is my refreshing alternative.

I have already talked about the dominant stereotypes that people at home have of the Peace Corps and I'll admit they are many of the same I had and probably still have...of those in Africa. Here, in Latin America, globalization is rampant, NAFTA is obviously doing its thing, and though about 50% of the rural population still has no idea how to use a computer much less the internet there are those who know all about it. Especially if they go on to high school, kids here are required to type up reports more and more. Out of all the volunteers in El Salvador, I would guess that about 10% have it in their home and about 50% more have daily access to it. Those of us with internet sometimes lament that we do have it. It is definitely beneficial in helping with projects, coping with loneliness, and fending off boredom BUT it can have its drawbacks. It can allow you to sequester yourself from the community, stunt creative solutions to boredom, and allow you to stay connected with a world you decided to check out of when you joined this gig. I have thought this but rarely fully acknowledged it until now.

This past weekend, I visited my boyfriend who was without internet temporarily and so needed company. Also, he was also nearer to where a bunch of us volunteers would be watching the World Cup England vs. USA game so I headed over there. We soon fell into our normal routine of watching movies and cooking dinner from scratch. But, at some point we fell bored with all that. Without internet he decided it was time to teach me how to play chess. I was more than happy to learn since it too was on my long list of "things I must do before I die." And so it went, the game which non-players think of as akin to knowing a foreign language kept us in a competitive spirit for four days and we passed the days easily. We also decided to try our hands a pizza and discovered that we are more than capable pizza chefs. At one point, I discovered that the internet came back on. I was excited and the chess game fell by the wayside. After about 15 minutes of the inattention that soon engulfs two people online, I quickly lamented the discovery and started complaining of the reversal of fortune as rather unfortunate instead of fortunate. I lost the battle though and fell asleep to him on the computer. In the morning it seems that the gods of the internet heard my disappointment and took it away again for the rest of the weekend leaving us to chess and cooking. It was a great weekend. Probably one of the most memorable of my service especially when you consider at one point the lights also went out for 30 minutes and we were forced to eat our delicious BBQ chicken pizza in the dark.

Lesson learned: Take time out of life and get rid of the outside world. I think when I get back to the States I am going to make a concerted effort to do that more often.

Remember book fairs in elementary school? The time when you got to go browse the red stacks that looks like giant suitcases? I remember always wanting to buy way to many of the books. My mother rarely gave into the overpriced books though and rightly so- we were avid library patrons so the need to buy when we could borrow for nothing was a much more sensible option. Remember the little book order forms that came in the Weekly Reader? I found myself thinking about this when I walked into school and saw a neatly laid out table of books. My initial thought was, "Great, another way to rip off the kids." But then I remembered that this wasn't anything different than what is done in the US. I am just so used to thinking of the worst because Salvadorans are notorious for buying cheap trinkets and snacks ALL THE TIME. Funny thing was that the most in demand book was one that was titled "Cartas de Amor." The "Love Letter" book could be seen being read by the snack stand ladies, seventh grade boys, and sixth grade girls (though the book selection was definitely not exclusive to those groups.) Salvadorans love them some romance and novelas. I imagine some kid will think he will definitely score some in the corn fields with that book....

It was interesting to see such interest in all the new shiny books. One of my big projects right now is forming a library committee to prepare for the enormous donation of books we are about to receive from the Rotary Club with and estimated value of over $1000 (and probably more like $2000.) This, however, has got me thinking about a whole new set of problems like space and more specifically air-conditioned space.

In my town there are 5 public buildings: the church, the school, the high school, city hall, and the community center. Only 3 out of the 5 have air conditioned space: the school, the high school, and city hall. The school's air conditioned space it about the size of a large broom closet. The space was built by a former volunteer to house the computer lab. Now, with the new books I would like to make room for them in there as well because they will be destroyed by rain, humidity or rats if left in any other part of the school... as we have discovered by looking at the current condition of the existing "library" and its books. So, we need a bigger A/C space and on top of that the whole school needs new roofs, and the bathrooms are the most disgusting places I have ever seen (pictures soon.) I would like to raise the money to do the project but the school is already in the process of doing it. But, projected time on the project is like 2-3 years. So for now we are squishing it in and making it work. It's a huge headache but I need to remember the upside (new books!) and focus on training the teachers to utilize the new collection effectively.

The ground around me is vibrating after every strike of lightning. I keep trying to measure how far away it actually is by doing the thing where you count how many seconds fall between the flash and the noise. But, it seems like they are all over the place. Some maybe less than a mile, others like 3 miles. The storm moved in pretty fast. My house is, once again, as it does in heavy rains, slowly flooding. I have various towels and bowls placed in the hot spots for dripping but it won’t catch it all and it certainly won’t catch the water that is falling in the vacant office next door and passing under our fake/temporary-but-really-actually-permanent wall. I have been trying to get a hold of the key for awhile now because of this known occurrence but in all honesty I haven’t tried hard enough. I have only asked the lady once and in El Salvador that’s pretty pathetic if you are trying to get ANYTHING done. So, maybe this storm and another round of mopping up my soaked floor tomorrow will inspire me to take real action and insist that she hand over the key so we can fix the roof. I don’t even want to think of the amount of mosquitoes probably having a giant orgy in there…. Compared to last week, this week is sure to be slow as all get out. Last week, aka birthday week, was filled with wonderful meals I usually can’t afford (at least not all at one time) and laying around the hotel room with good company. I ate sushi (twice), pizza (twice), and Italian (twice). Hmm..up until now I didn’t realize I did everything twice! Ha Well, it was well worth it and I have my parent’s to thank for it. The meals were my birthday present. I cannot wait for the day when I am asking for something besides money to feed me :-/ My main focus this week is trying to locate pesticide to kill the plant-eating bugs in my garden. I can’t plant until I can run my hand through the dirt and not see tiny gross little bugs. I have everything else I need- seeds, fertilizers, planters, etc. Just no damn pesticide! This year my garden will play host to corn, pinto beans, tomatoes, green peppers, and egg plant! Very excited about that egg plant. That’s all for now. Props for people in Florida who have dealt with these hurricanes their whole life. Tropical storms are crazy things especially when you live in a place that has rock as a main base and your whole house shakes when it thunders.

Interesting, you never think of the Peace Corps volunteers who have died during their service when you think of Memorial Day:

On Monday, May 31, 2010, Memorial Day, our nation will recognize the brave men and women in uniform who have given their lives to protect and defend our country in wartime. Where ever you may be on Monday, I ask that you join with me in remembering and honoring America’s veterans who died in service to our country. I also ask that you remember and honor the men and women who lost their lives during their service as Peace Corps Volunteers. They too sacrificed all that they could give to their country, to the people with whom they lived, and to the ideals which inspired them to join the Peace Corps. For those who enter Peace Corps headquarters in Washington, D.C., next week, I encourage you to pause before the Memorial Board in the front lobby to honor the memories of the Volunteers who have died during their Peace Corps service. These women and men truly exemplified the ideals upon which the Peace Corps was founded nearly 50 years ago.

-Peace Corps Director Aaron Williams

Rain rain go away come again when its not my birthday.

I know, I know its not quite my birthday but I like my birthday to encompass at least 2-3 days and end with the actual day- June 1st. This year we were on target to do just that. Today, we'd get ready and tomorrow morning we'd leave for the beach, eat our favorite pizza, then head to the Capital and eat a yummy Italian dinner. Instead, one tropical depression backed into another one and now bridges around the country are knocked out making travel anywhere impossible.

I know. I am being selfish. People are really affected by this. It's just that I built this up so much after the terrible birthday I had last year (someone put a snake with it's head chopped off in my sink in my backyard in the middle of the night.)

Oh well, I know we'll have just as much fun days later (if that is even possible because of road conditions) but it's not my birthday. I know I sound like 10 year old but it's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to.

Pacaya is the volcano we hiked in April. At the time, all we were able to see was the lava flow beneath the rock but every 7 minutes or so you could hear the explosion. I had wondered what would happen to all the people if there was an explosion (they hadn't had a major one in decades.) The people live so close to the volcano. It's absolutely incredible.

BBC News - Thousands flee volcanos in Ecuador and Guatemala