In current state, I am feverishly waging an intestinal war on amoebas, contemplating the possibility of using this as an excuse for a free trip to San Salvador. I'm not actually that sick, but the monotony of my site due to these 2 weeks of purgatory between my Asamblea General (a speech/community diagnostic I completed last week) and my return to my training community for a second round of training has me thinking of breaking free...
But all is not lost. Out of the projects that I have identified and started working on, I'm helping my home stay tia start a cake business, tutoring English to a college English student, supporting a spectacular English class(of no fruition of my own) two times a week, and forming a grant committee for the school. I have experience the first tingling of doing real work after the training/getting to know your community malaise that I've been trapped in for the last few months.
I guess I should also mention that this is my first blog post, and I am unsure if there will be another. However, I am receiving more enjoyment from writing in here than I initially expected so who knows! Another housekeeping point, I will refrain from using the name of my institution and my specific community as to not overstep any policy of said institution. However, I'm sure most know that I am a volunteer, working with youthlings in the country of El Salvador.
Yesterday, as I was cutting the grass with this thing:
when I made an observation of Salvadoran culture. No other people that exists or that has ever existed has been as well versed in the art of the rhetorical question as Salvadorans. Picture this: here I am, crouched over in the grass, machete in hand, sweat streaming down my forehand, when a neighbor-child with a bizarre name comes out of nowhere and squeaks "¿Está trabajando?". I freeze not out of annoyance, well maybe a little, but rather out of sheer bewilderment that my actions in that moment could be perceived as ambiguous by anyone.
I know what you naysayers are thinking: "He's just a kid, kids always asked silly questions." Negative, this phenomenon exists in all age groups. For example, the other day I was running around in the yard playing soccer with my homestay brothers when my neighbor, best known for screaming at her children (I think that's just how she communicates now), yelled "¿Está jugando, Daniel?" Again, bewilderment. There exists the possibility that despite the inflection of their voices, they aren't asking questions but rather narrating my life which might be worse. Don't you hate it when people talk about you in the third person, talking about trivial facts like how you just woke up, right in front of you? Well I'm trying not to because something tells me that the next two years of my life will be narrated in the harsh and gravely voice.
But it's beautiful here. It reminds me of when I was living in Washington, speeding on I-5 to get to work on-time when a incredible view would just appear out of nothing. Those moments happen all the time here. The rain has made the surrounding hillsides explode in color and it's wonderful.
Well a bunch of screaming school children have found me out, and invaded my sanctuary so I must go.
Hasta la próxima.
