800 Days in El Salvador

My dear Reader(s)- (Readers on a good day… if I’m lucky),

I’ve been painfully overdue for an entry, I know. Truth be told, these final weeks here have been something of a flash- and my blogging duties have been shelved a bit. I apologize.

I have actually wanted to write- many things have happened- so what I’ll try here is to blog 2 posts at once. The first I started writing a while ago, but didn’t come around to finishing till now. “The Road,” it’s entitled. If you’ve got time on your hands- I would recommend reading that one before this one… this one is all about leaving.

Yesterday (from when I wrote this entry, not when I posted it), April 18th, 2011… coincidentally my father’s birthday… for some reason also tax day this year… was the day I left Los Cimientos… for good. Yes my friends… after exactly 800 days, I am officially done being a Peace Corps volunteer.

As it always goes- I knew my final day was coming… I tried to prepare myself as best I could. And yet, when it came, it felt sudden and unexpected, and it almost didn’t feel real. In all my 800 days here, and all of the hardships and annoyances I’ve had, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was to say good-bye.

Boy was it hard. I knew I would probably cry, but pu-chica- I was an absolute wreck. I was like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel. I was nervous beforehand, because Salvadorans are famously stoic and reserved… so I didn’t know how they would emote.

I went to say good-bye to Daysi, my friend, who always has more problems than any other 21 year-old should have. She started getting glossy-eyed, and as soon as she did my eyes swelled too. She’s someone I wish I could take away with me- someone I actually think could do well in the US… so leaving her felt like abandoning her; and it broke my heart.

Then I said good-bye to Mercedes, the spunky, fun, hip community leader who has always helped me here. She’s more controlled and not very emotional, but even she started to tear up… and as soon as she did it was waterworks all over again for me. What is that about crying? It’s more infectious than a bad cold.

But, of course, I saved the best for last: Mari and the girls. I had my last dinner with them and Helen, and then the three of them came over to my place to have a private moment.

I’m a fan of writing thoughtful letters, reading them aloud, and then leaving them with their recipients. As I did this, I tried to compose myself, but of course I could not, and I shakily read through it. When I finished, Sulma and Yessica pulled out their own letters (which I was not expecting), and that’s when I completely broke down. I’m telling you, I was a baby, sloppy and loud, sobbing uncontrollably… I probably looked like I was drowning in air. We all just held each other and cried for a very long time. It was, without a doubt, one of the, if not the, strongest emotional experiences I have ever had.

You know, two years ago when I left America, I was nervous and sad. I was nervous about living in another country, and sad to leave my friends and family and home. And now leaving here is making me feel those same feelings about tenfold. A lot of America is pretty foreign to me now, and I’m fairly uneasy about that adjustment. And although it was very hard to bid adieu to my family and friends in the States… it was harder to say goodbye here. This isn’t to say that I don’t love my American family and friends… but I guess it’s that I know I probably won’t ever see Mari, Yessica or Sulma again. I won’t tell you everything I told them, but I’ll share a couple of the sentiments so that they’re forever recorded in internetland.

Sulma: who is the perennial free spirit. She’s very special. She’s not like most youth here; she’s much more creative and spontaneous, and unafraid to try something different. I will miss her spark and her smile… and her constant affection; she is the best hugger in the world.

Yessica: who always thinks of others. She’s so smart and perceptive and kind. She is always doing favors for others, without being asked, and rarely thinks of herself first. She’s patient and helpful and very observant. I see a quiet inner strength in her… that I know will take her farther than even she knows.

Maribel: she is the kindest person I have ever known. She understands me like no other Salvadoran does. Whenever I feel as if people don’t know or understand me… she is always thoughtful and available, and I feel knows me better than any other person. I didn’t really feel like she was a mother to me, I felt like she was a friend, a very close friend, and probably the hardest person to leave.

I can leave Los Cimientos the place. It’s beautiful, and I love it… but I can leave it and be okay. But the people…my family here… leaving them is what’s crushing me. There are a few things I’m happy to leave behind, but there’s more I’ll take with me, and my love for those people will always be with me.

The things I’ll leave behind….
Yes… I am very much looking forward to saying good-bye to some Salvadoran quirks… thinks I’m pretty sure I won’t miss.
• Piropos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t stand them!
• Most men
• Being stared at all the time
• Diarrhea
• Latrines in general
• Oil drenched food
• Lack of fruits and vegetables
• RATS!!!!!
• ROOSTERS! And chickens in general!
• Bad action flicks
• Bad comedies
• Bad acting in bad TV shows with bad plots and bad music
• The madrugaba (we don’t have a word for this in English… it means about 2-3 o’clock in the morning (let your imagination run wild)

The things I’ll take with me (or hope to anyways)…
• Patience
• Greater appreciation
• Listening more
• Letting go and being less anxious about things
• A lot more reading
• Spanish
• About 10 more pounds
• A newfound love for certain types of Latin music
• Ignorance of Twitter, i-pads, and most smart phones
• Ignorance of The Jersey Shore
• Ignorance of Justin Bieber
• About 15 more inches of hair
• The ability to kill and skin and prep a chicken
• Papusas
• Happiness
• A lot of love for a lot of people

And of course….

The things I am insanely excited to get back to…
• Friends and family
• Driving
• Good food
• Better food variety
• Milk
• Tofu
• Thai and Indian restaurants (you get the picture, right?)
• Non-Salvadoran men
• Paved roads
• Flushing toilets
• Hot water
• Micro-waves
• Sports other than soccer
• Dependability
• Going out after dark
• Old Movies

And the lists go on… Of course I am extremely happy to be going home… but it’s such a painful compromise because I have to leave here to do so.

And an added update… I am currently in Guatemala working my way up. A few days here and then it’s off to Mexico to see my Uncle Paul. And then in two weeks time… IT’S BACK TO THE STATES BABY!!!





Here are the girls, Mari, and I, and Mercedes out front.



The old volunteer and the new one.



Darwin, Felipe (the coolest old man in the worls}d), a dead Guatuza (I tried some, they aren't bad), Me, and Precedes, a sweet-heart.



Daysi's mom Juana, Daysi and me.



The last moments together.

The Road

Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. Well put Mr. Frost. I think I read that poem for the first time in eighth grade, and the message has always resonated. Well… the road that leads up Mt. Cacahuatique to Los Cimientos is probably one of the least taken roads in the country. Most days I am glad that I got to take the road less traveled… but after two years, I actually wish it were a little more taken.
The road up the mountain is by far the biggest impediment facing Los Cimientos. Many of the reasons are obvious and material… but others are more subtle and symbolic. It affects everything… and really, all of the other needs the community has are dictated by the road… it all comes back to the one god-damned road.
I hate to sound like a broken record (that phrase is becoming obsolete, isn’t it?), but the trip from my site and to civilization and back again is, quite frankly, ridiculous. I’ve written about it time and time again, but it is truly one of the strongest defining qualities of Los Cims. After two years, I have gotten fairly used to it… I can zone most of it out; but I’m reminded of its absurdity whenever I travel with someone who’s making the journey for the first time. I recently hosted a group of Engineers Without Borders, who came to do diagnostics for future projects (more on this later), and seeing their reactions to the truck ride up brought me back down memory lane. There were a lot of “Oh my Gods!” and “Holy Shits!”… and in retrospect, the truck wasn’t really that crowded.
The only types of vehicles that can make it up the road are pick-up trucks, semis, and dirt-bikes… no sedans or station-wagons here. In the community, there are 7 trucks which can cram up to about 20-25 people in the back (that’s without carrying anything either… it gets much more crowded later people have bought their supplies). That means that on a good day, only about 175 people can leave, and there are upwards of 1,200 scattered throughout Los Cims. But none of the trucks leave regularly anyways… it’s always at the whim and will of the driver. For the average Los Cimientonian… doing your casual shopping is an absolute pain. You have to leave at dawn, endure 4+ hours of uncomfortable travel, and leave caution to the wind.
We’re two hours away from any bank or grocery store, 1.5 hours away from the nearest high school and about 3+ hours away from the closest mall. The road cuts off access to outside world… and makes progress incredibly slow. In the rainy season… big semis can’t get up the road, so any big construction or other improvements can only be done for 6 months out of the year. Because we’re so far away from high schools, most kids can’t go. Our local school teaches up to 9th... but after that, the student needs to be lucky enough to have a family member or friend that lives near a larger village with a high school to live with during the school year. This is why from last year’s 9th grade graduates, only two are continuing on.
Yes lack of latrines is a huge problem; sure we could use a bigger and better clinic. But the road affects all of this. The road affects everything… it keeps resources out, and takes educated and capable people away. For those who have been educated, or are talented workers (masons, carpenters, electricians), they do not stay in Los Cims, there’s no work (well… actually, there’s a lot of potential work, but no money to pay for it). Instead they leave to find more gratifying work in a bigger city, and deprive Los Cimientos of their expertise. Yes, once again, the road isolates Los Cimientos from progress, and stamps it with its credo “out there.”
Not only do educated and skilled people leave, but professionals who do come in to work (teachers at the school, the doctors and nurses at the clinic) come from outside. The teachers come on Monday and stay through Friday, sleeping at various people’s homes throughout the week. Their burden is a hard one, and not one that I envy. But I think that the weight of it all is taxing on their teaching. Honestly, I don’t think the teachers are as invested or passionate here… they’re all just aching to get a transfer for a school closer to home. Which is why most of them stay for only a few years at best.
Think of the symbolic affect this has on the people here. If you want a good job… you have to leave… professionals who do work in the community come from outside. The teachers and medical workers who do work here don’t like it and are constantly looking for work elsewhere, as if some disease plagued the place. Many times when I would wait for a pick-up ride up the mountain in the small village at its base, people would ask me where I was going and be floored and confused by my answer. “You work there… okay, but where do you live?” They couldn’t believe that I would elect to live there too. People here in Los Cims are reminded time and time again that there’s nothing for them in the community, and the outside world seems very far away.
So this is my dream: one day… there will be a real road, a paved road, all the way to Los Cimientos. Mark my words, if I ever strike it rich… that will be what I do with the money.
All of El Salvador is very mountainous… it’s covered in volcanoes and rough ridges… it’s prehistoric looking in many parts. So although the location of my site is pretty remote comparitively, the geographic qualities aren’t particularly unique. I remember having an “Ahaaaa” moment when I visited a certain volunteer about a year ago. He lives on the side of another volcano (hmmm…. sounds familiar…), we took a bus to get to his site, and as we were arriving I couldn’t help but notice that the ridges and hills along the way were strikingly similar to those of Mt. Cacahuatique (Los Cims’s ex-volcano). When we got to his pueblo, I was amazed by how developed it was… there were all sorts of shops, and parks, and transport. Sure the sidewalks were steep… but there actually were real sidewalks. I couldn’t believe how many resources there were in the town, there were many cyber-cafes, and lighted basketball courts, and a youth center that had dance classes. I was blown away by how advanced this place was, especially for being in such a physically harsh location. And the biggest difference that distinguishes his site from mine: he has a real road, a lovely, smooth, paved, cement road… that goes all the way from a big village to his site.
If we had a real road… everything would change. The pace of life would, triple… quadruple even. We could start bringing in supplies and building things straight away… and it wouldn’t cost a fortune in time and money to lug up goods and materials. Latrine construction would be much easier, as would any other type of construction, really. Workers would be easier to hire, since getting to the community would be that much easier, and they wouldn’t have to stay overnight each day that they worked. With a real road, the outside world could come in, and certain things that seem so elusive and far away, like a cyber-café, would no longer seem so unattainable.
A paved road wouldn’t only let the outside world come in, but it would allow people in Los Cimientos access out. If there were a real road… I think that the commute that normally takes an hour and a half would take only about 30 minutes… and not just by trucks, but by dinky little cars, and BUSSES! Yes, if there were a real road, there could be a bus. A bus system would change everything. Not only could people leave more often and at their leisure… but kids could go to high school. With a paved road, by bus, my guess is it would take about an hour transport to get to school… which is still a lot, but kids would absolutely do it, especially if there were secure transport coming back in the afternoon. Right now with the transportation… drivers normally come back midday, and there’s little dependability in when they leave and how many they can take up with them. With a bus, kids could leave probably as late as 5pm and still get back before dark.
Just imagines the changes it would bring if kids could actually continue on through high school. The teaching and nursing jobs, few though there are, could be filled by people from the community, who would actually enjoy working in Los Cims, and not be counting the days to get away. Education is one of the biggest things Los Cims needs, and the lack of it is stifling. It’s a vicious cycle… kids want to continue with school, but the road prevents them from leaving to do so, and so they get stuck working poor paying farming jobs, which prevents them from ever leaving.
Ask any Cimientonian what the biggest problem facing the community is, and it always comes back to the road. I wish as a volunteer I could have done something more. I knew it was always a little out of my league… a project like that would probably cost a few hundred thousand dollars. But really… with what little I’ve actually done for the community, in the long run… I don’t think it will make much of a dent. For real improvements, a real change to catch Los Cims up to the present and guide them into the future… it always returns to the road.
So… guess what? I am done being a volunteer. Just writing that is so weird, it’s very hard to believe. I knew this day was looming… but now that it’s here it feels so foreign and unusual. I’ll write more about saying good-bye in my next entry, but allow me to sum up the final weeks of my life in Los Cimientos.
First and foremost, I got Helen! I mentioned her in my last blog, and I got her! Or I should say Los Cimientos got her. She is now officially the volunteer there. And I couldn’t be happier. She’s an incredibly kind and patient and strong person… and I really enjoyed her. We had about a month of overlap, which I thought would be much more awkward than it was. I really loved getting to know her over the few weeks, and I think we would be friends outside of the Peace Corps context. So although leaving Los Cims was unbelievably difficult… I felt good about leaving it in her hands.
And after over a year of corresponding and a lot of back and forth, a branch from New York City of Engineers Without Borders has finally decided to commit to a five year relationship to work on projects improving Los Cimientos. So about a week before my last days, four of them came out to stay with us and do tests and diagnostics. They did a lot of water tests… and as it turns out, the spring water I’ve been drinking for the past 2 years isn’t as clean as I thought it was. But after visiting many homes and holding a vote at big community meeting and talking with us volunteers and other community members… the decision they made was to start with a latrine project. Yes, they agree that the road is a bigger issue, but that’s out of reach for them too. And who knows what they might attempt… if the latrine project goes well. Having the engineers here was fun and refreshing. They were very resourceful and flexible (god knows you need that in Los Cims, what with the bucket bathing and sleeping in hammocks). For entertainment, I made sure one night we got to kill a chicken for dinner (a must when you visit here). They really liked Los Cims, and having their promised commitment for the next five years left me with a sense of hope.
Sure I would have liked to have done more. From my own nerves and procrastination, I’m sure I could have done a lot more than I did too. But I leave Los Cimientos knowing that there are brighter days in the future… and I know that… someday… there will be a real road.

Here are some choice photos of the road...







Here are the Engineers, Helen and I. From the left is Nathan, Jose, Davesh, Helen, and Rachel.



And of course, the blessed event.