Friday, February 27, 2009

wondernight

It’s newly dark. Venus is setting in the west, with the moon nearly beside her. Beautiful. Kids play in the street. They ask me to play with them. we toss around a tennis ball. It’s a windless, perfect night. And it all feels, amazing.
This thing, the peace corps, like life in general, seems to be a series of ups and downs. Peaks and valleys. Tonight, I must be sitting on a beautiful crest, overlook a glorious life. Not as a king, but as an equal.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

i have a lot of farts

i just had dinner. lots of beans. yummy.
walking home, this little kid was just suddenly next to me. smiling. so we chatted for a minute. i asked him how he was. the typical, literal response to that question here in el sal varies but includes: "im there," "im here," "good," "shitty," etc. This kid's responds with enthusiasm. and not in one sentence. he tells me that school was good, he's got a new girl friend, and he's about to have dinner with his family, among other things. im half a sleep on two legs, but listening and enjoying his answer. then he asks me, "and you, how are you, sir?"
i told him the truth, as best i could, in spanish: "I have a lot of farts."
Kid stopped right in his tracks. and so did i, just as i mustered one that shook the houses on the street. slowly, his slightly shocked face turned into the most sincere grin i have seen in a long time. he laughed with his whole body, and so did i, which made me fart more.
as we parted ways, he told me he hoped we would meet again. i told him i hoped so too.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

a mosquito just bit me on my elbow. w t f ??

my alarm goes off. it's 5:50 am. i could get up. go on a run. come back, listen to NPR, have a banana. or, i could just, you know, lay here peacefully for a few more minutes.
my alarm goes off. my internal alarm. like a fucking gunshot. i sit up, and almost jump through my mosquito net. "oh shit oh shit oh shit." it's 7:20. i have a very important meeting. At 8am, thirty minutes away from my house.
but then i remember: it's el salvador. the meeting will start at about 9:15. so, i relax. and listen to NPR. and have a banana.
by the time i take my seat on the bus, the sun is up, and it's growing warmer, but the morning still maintains a cheerfulness, the day celebrating it's potential.
i walk into the meeting just as it begins. 9:10 am.
and what a meeting. we've recently had local mayoral elections, and present are the new mayors and their cabinets or consejos. the purpose of the meeting is for everyone to understand more about the group they have been asked to join: "U 7," or United Seven. The group is a collection of local government members and civic development groups, working together to benefit the seven municipalities they represent. and there's me. the white kid. some of these people know me, and most have heard of me. and i have a good reputation among them- a strong word.
it's hard for me to convince you why, but the meeting is very much a success. maybe it's because i get to talk to the new mayor and meet his people since he won election. his win was a dramatic surprise to me. and i was nervous as to if they would invite me to work with them or not. so far, i seem to be warmly regarded and have invitation to work with the new administration.
this was cemented by them offering me a ride back to town. we pile into a pickup truck, and i tell a few jokes and tell my new friends my nick name. suddenly, we all seem to be friends.

________


it's now late in the afternoon. i am sitting at a cafe at the side of our park here in town, talking to the woman that runs the place. we've only recently become friends, and it's a friendship that i enjoy, and not just because she gives me wonderfully fresh orange juice, kind of a rarity for me down here. sipping the OJ, i see the people i am waiting for pull up in a car, but they don't see me. i get their attention, and they come over. they're my new students. and we're studying english. they join me at a table, and we talk for half an hour or so. there are three of them. they work together for a large spanish NGO called "intervida." they're all a few years older than me, which is perfect. i don’t have many friends in their late twenties/early thirties. we talk about english classes, and end up agreeing to two days a week for an hour each day. "how much?" they say. "nothing," i reply. "just buy me a beer or two once in a while." this seems like music and comedy to their ears.
we say good bye. they drive away. the cafe owner points her chin in their direction as if to say, "so, what's that all about?" I tell her: "they're my new students." and i tell her that im hoping they will do some work here in town in exchange for me teaching them some bad words and good grammar.
and then my slow, lovely walk home. it's dusk. my two year old friend, eddie, is standing outside his house, watching his world walk by. i say his name in a low voice, like i always do, and his face lights up with a grin as he repeats his name back to me, something he has only recently learned. he then inexplicably turns to his mother and, im not kidding, says a very bad word. we're both so surprised that all we can do is laugh. but then she tells eddie he cant call his mother a whore. that just won't cut it.

and here i am, sitting in my house, now typing in the dark. it's 630, time to go and eat dinner with my neighbors, and flirt with the three daughters.

peace and love. from el salvador.

me.