Spatial Relations

Last week, Sor Mirna's dad got sick in San Salvador, so we couldn't go to Guatemala after all, like we'd planned. I did, however, get to go back to El Salvador again and spend a few more days there. This time, I was in San Salvador all week instead of just passing through, exploring there and basically tagging along on all the errands that Sor Mirna had to run.

Getting around town was surprisingly easy, although the idea of personal space really doesn't exist there. In fact, the use of space in general is really interesting (at least to a history/geography student). There are basically five ways to get around San Salvador: on foot, which is not that hard, especially if you don't know where you're going; in your own car, which can be complicated with next to no traffic laws; in a taxi, which is also good if you don't know where you're going; in a bus, which is the cheapest way; or in a rapidito, which is a minivan that they completely stuff with people until you can't even close the sliding door. The rapidito is definitely the fastest way to get around, but you have to know where you're going and not mind if people are sitting on top of you or standing up bent over because you're way too tall. Of course, we mostly travelled by rapidito, meaning that I had a few hellish minutes of speeding around, picking people up and dropping people off, resettling in the "seats" every time, and looking ahead for the stop I was rarely sure of, all for 28 cents, until we got wherever we were going.

Walking around town was a lot less stressful, except for the part when we had to walk through the main market. It's blocks and blocks of stalls basically stuck to one another, and you have to wade through people and cars that always attempt to get through, and occasionally cross boulevards that, of course, have bus traffic barrelling through them. And then there's the theives that you have to keep an eye out for, as well as vendors grabbing at you and your attention to try to sell whatever they're selling. I was definitely glad to get back on the regular streets after the market, where there are only vendors every block or so, instead of a million on the same block.

But I did find an oasis in the midst of the chaos. In the Parque Cuzcatlan, one of the few parks in downtown San Salvador, I was surprised to find a little bit of peace and quiet. There were only a few people around, which was refreshing for me but made Sor Mirna a bit nervous, and it was set back from the main streets so the sound of traffic wasn't quite as dominant. We discovered a free art museum that features the masterpieces of a different Salvadoran artist every month. We had the whole place to ourselves, so it was a nice little escape for a few minutes.

After that, we made our way to the other side of the park to the Salvadoran version of the Vietnam Memorial. All along the wall, names of people who were killed or abducted during the civil war that lasted throughout the '70s to 1992 were engraved as a reminder of the past. The names of towns and the dates of massacres that occured there were also included and that little corner of the park was surprisingly still. There were still a few flowers taped to the wall beside names, left over from the Day of the Dead, as well as a few people just sitting and looking at the names of relatives or friends inscribed there. On one end, an artist had recently painted a mural that depicted the events, especially the assassination and martyrdom of Archbishop Romero, an icon of the war and a hero to the Salvadoran people to this day.

There is nobody in El Salvador that hasn't been affected in some way by the war, and it's still very fresh in their memories. There were more than 60,000 names on the wall, and about 3,000 more were added this year.
Rougly translated:
"Monument to the Memory and the Truth
This is a space for remembering. Its intention is to immortalize in the Salvadoran conscience the names of women and men, girls and boys, victims of human rights violations during the repression in the '70s and '80s and the following Salvadoran civil war from 1981 to January 1992.
The Truth Commision, sponsored by the United Nations, published a report that contained the painful testimonies of relatives of those who were killed or who disappeared. One of its recommendations was to build a memorial dedicated to these victims, as moral reparation. Only the civil society was succesful in making it a reality.
This is a memorial to be looked for, to never forget what happened, to honor their memory, to return them their dignity, so that we don't let this horror happen again, and to set the basis for a culture of peace and true reconciliation.
A space for hope, to continue dreaming and building a more just, human, and equal society.
December 2003"

We also went to visit Archbishop Romero's house at the Hospital of the Divine Providence, where an adorable old nun gave us a tour. You can still see the blood stains on his clothes from when he was shot and killed, celebrating the Mass.
We also went to the mall a few times during the week, to meet up with various friends of Sor's and to look around. It really was like being back in America. There are two malls in San Salvador, one that's a lot like North Star, and the other that's exactly like La Cantera, both malls in San Antonio. Everything was decorated very Christmas-y, there were a ton of sales, and Santa Claus even showed up to meet kids and find out what they want for Christmas. And, let's not forget, the crowd of anxious shoppers. ExACTly like America. I only had to go back outside and try to get on a bus to remember that I'm in a foreign country.
However, being in the mall, for me, wasn't so much a nice memory as it was a nightmare. It was almost like it was trying too hard to be like the United States, but wasn't quite there. Everything was really unnatural, and the people crowding it were spending more money in the food court than the actual stores. Most people were there just to look around and be seen and there were only a few serious shoppers (those that could actually afford things). Everything else was like an illusion. There were sometimes four or five versions of the same stores in different parts and they were all selling exactly the same thing. I'm not sure that I ever actually liked going to malls, but this was way too much for me, like an overload. I'd take the craziness of the market over the craziness of these malls any day.

But I think it also has to do with the social mindset. People just want to be where all the other people are. I read an article (and I have no idea if it's true, but I find it easy to believe) that said that Latin Americans that move to the US suffer from depression because of the silence. Here, there's always the noise from the streets, from music and commercials blasting from passing traffic, fireworks going off at all hours of the day and night, noise from the neighbors, etc. There's hardly a moment's peace, but it's not really all that desirable here either. Everyone thinks it's strange that I'm not afraid of sleeping in a room by myself, but I sometimes miss the silence.

And it's clear that the Central American countries are definitely urban countries. At least for the lack of roads and transportation, most people live in the cities or in communities along the main highways. There are vast areas of Honduras that are completely unpopulated (perfect hide-outs for drug traffickers, by the way), but that aren't unexploited either. In my opinion, it's an inefficient way of using its land and resources, but the efficiency lies in the cities. Houses are built in every usable space, even in spaces that we wouldn't normally put a house, for example, a house built as a bridge that spans a creek, or on a hillside that looks like it's about to collapse at any moment, or on the side of a volcano that was active as recently as the 1920s. The efficieny is also found in the transportation, with excellent bus systems but also the lack of traffic laws that mean you don't have to wait for a green light, if there's no traffic, in order to cross an intersection, or, if there's no oncoming traffic, people drive the same direction on both sides of the road. In the rapiditos, you can fit three times as many people inside than the amount they were built to hold. Where there's a need, creativity abounds. And this is exactly the spot where the craziness and creativity intersects, to make something that works for the people here.

I've also found that my idea of personal space has been reduced to at least a third of what it once was. I wasn't really a hugger until I got to college and was forced into it by my beloved dorm-mates. Then, riding the bus to campus from my apartment sometimes required that I had a backpack in my face, but at least I had a seat. Sometimes, it meant I was late to class because the bus was supposedly "full" and I'd have to wait for the next one. Here, the bus doesn't leave until people are piled in and hanging out the door, with the aisles full, two or three people deep. It doesn't leave until either I'm practially sitting on top of someone or someone's on top of me. Someone's backpack or box of goods is ALWAYS in your face, your back, your hip, falling on your head, etc. Your personal space is basically zero. But Sor Mirna, for example, prefers being in a space packed with people to one that barely has any, because she feels more vulnerable.

Also, living with a bunch of girls who live apart from their families has reduced my personal space as well. Sometimes I have to be the maternal influence, which means a lot of hugging, kissing, holding hands, taking care of sick kids, etc. If the girls are finished studying and want to take a nap, they sleep all together in a group on the floor, even on the hottest, sweatiest afternoon. When I was with the little kids in the preschool in El Salvador, I was a human jungle gym, and they climbed all over me until I didn't notice it anymore. When we took the girls in the procession in May, the little ones always had to hold hands with the big ones, and the sun would be beating down, but it's more important to hold a sweaty hand so they don't get lost than it is to feel comfortable. These are just some of the examples of times when I realized that sometimes my body isn't just mine, that I have to share it with other people, especially when it means the difference between making it home from the mall in ten minutes, or two hours, or being responsible for the safety of a child. So, coming from this kind of culture, I can easily imagine how depressing it could be for someone to move immediately from the noise and crowds to the wide, open spaces that America is famous for. And for a certain American girl being pushed, shoved, crammed in, and climbed on, a real relief.

Visual Aid

Here are some photos from the events from the previous blog, that again, took forever to upload:

This is Alba Luz's family at her graduation. She graduated with our equivalent of an associate's degree in business.

This is Dani with Sor Vilma here in Santa Rosa, who made her a cake for her birthday, the day after Thanksgiving.

Here I am with Flor and Nora, eating pupusas just off the street in downtown Santa Ana, in between Mass at the Cathedral and High School Musical 3 at the mall.

This is one group of kids at the camp, about 1/6 of the total amount that came.

Here's another group, practicing "Noche de Paz" (Silent Night) for the Christmas pageant. Carlos, who's in the El Salvador National Orchestra, is accompanying them on his violin as Sydney attempts to keep order.

Here are some kids from my small group (the oldest ones) making "pascuas" or poinsettias. Although I don't understand why they're called pascuas, since "pascua" in Spanish actually means Easter...

Here are Chiky and Kim helping get ready for the day, by cutting out Stars of David for the littlest kids to decorate.

And here I am with Ingrid, Jenny, and Karla, my newest Salvadoran friends, on our night out.
Until next time...

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!

Wow, so much has been going on lately, that I haven't had time to update in almost a month! But I'll try to catch you up on what's been going on in my world.

First of all, school's out for the "summer" and the next year starts up in February, so I've been doing different stuff than before, and things have been so quiet around here with everybody gone!

In November, as a result of the flooding and all the rain, a nearby community called Corquin basically fell off the side of a mountain and everybody lost their homes and everything they owned. Luckily, most of the people survived since they were told to evacuate. Anyway, the 9th grade girls here took it upon themselves to have a fundraiser for the community. They hosted a dance competition, with every section of every grade participating. The proceeds they got from the event went toward buying supplies like mattresses, clothes, shoes, and supplies for babies, all for the people of Corquin. I got to go with them to deliver it and I was very impressed with the girls' generosity, especially since it was of their own accord.

After that, we had lots of graduations, those for the 9th graders, for the 12th graders, and for those that are in the distance education program. Those was really cool to attend because the chance to study here is a luxury and actually graduating and getting a diploma really means a lot. My favorite part was getting to meet the girls' families. Most of them are pure indigenous and some of them didn't even speak Spanish, but their own native language. I definitely towered over everyone, which I still am not used to. But it was obvious which families were the internas' and which were externas'. Everyone seemed to get along great though, which is really nice to see.

Also, the qualifications for the World Cup 2010 are already in full swing. Honduras is doing well, and just beat Mexico (which is unheard of for Central American countries) and will advance to the next round. I got to go out to watch the game (outside the walls after dark!), which turned out to be a blast! Dani (my American friend) and I had met another two American girls who live here in the their own house because they're teaching English in the bilingual elementary and middle school. Since they actually have a social life, they know their way around town after dark and invited us to watch the game in a bar (which I didn't even know existed). When we got there though, it was completely full, so we went to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican food place instead (yeah, we caught the irony too). So we were four American girls in a Mexican restaurant watching Honduras beat Mexico. Then, the girls' other friends showed up. Another American girl who's a high school exchange student here and her German friend. Then a British guy, a Chilean guy, and a Bolivian guy showed up. So we were up to 9 foreigners all wearing our Honduran blue and white in a Mexican restaurant. The owner was so impressed (or maybe just confused) that she came out with her camera and took a picture of us. After Honduras clinched the victory, all the Honduran men bought us a round and begged us to come back for the games in the next round, because they were convinced all us foreigners cheering on the Honduran team was good luck. As we were starting to leave, it sounded like bombs were going off and the streets were full of people celebrating. They were shooting off fireworks and guns into the air, and driving around in their cars like Guadalupe after a Texas game. It was nothing like Detroit with cars turned over or on fire (the streets are too narrow to turn over a car anyway, the most they could've done is propped up a car against a wall or something), but very exciting nonetheless.

By Thanksgiving, everyone had gone, including three of the girls that work here, so I was put in the doorway. This means that I answer the phone (yikes) when someone calls and open the door when people come. Only, neither of those happen very often since the school is closed, so I have to invent things to do so I don't get bored. Thanksgiving, however, was spent just the same as any other day. Most of the sisters were gone, for meetings or on vacation, so there weren't many of us here. I went out for dinner with Dani to celebrate the day and her birthday observed. We ended up going to a Chinese place which was really good. But who would've thought I'd be spending my Thanksgiving in Honduras eating Kung Pao chicken instead of turkey? Definitely non-conventional, but it was delicious.

Then, I got the opportunity to go to El Salvador again for a little over a week. It was my first time to go all by myself, but it was super easy. It's amazing how normal things have become for me since I've been here, as if I'm not even living in a foreign country anymore. Anyway, arriving in El Salvador felt like I was coming home. The weather was gorgeous and I actually felt warm for the first time in over a month. I went straight to Chalchuapa and hung out with my good friend Sydney, the sisters there, and four of the girls who don't have a home to go home to for vacations. We had a certain feel of solidarity since I won't be going home either.

On Sunday, Sydney and I took the girls to see High School Musical 3 in the theater in the mall in Santa Ana. A few of them had never been to the mall before, so that was exciting enough for them. When we went in, we all went straight for the escalator, but only Sydney and I made it to the top. When we got up, we turned around and saw all three of the girls at the bottom, letting everyone pass and trying to figure out how to get on. It was just like Will Ferrel in Elf! Yet another reminder of the things that we take for granted. After the movie, which everyone thoroughly enjoyed, we had about 20 minutes to kill, but instead of walking around and going in the stores, we practiced going up and down the escalators until the girls could do it without stopping to jump on. We got a lot of crazy looks, but then again, I get a lot of crazy looks anyway, no matter what I'm doing.

Then, Monday through Friday, we put on a camp for the kids in the market in Santa Ana. The VIDES group in El Salvador does something like this at least twice a year, so it was fun to be a part of it. On Monday, we went to the market to invite the kids, and then Tuesday through Friday, we had activities for them to do all morning, like arts and crafts, practicing for a Christmas pageant, games, piñatas, things like that. We were expecting about 50-60 kids to show up, but we were way off. About 125 kids came the first day and it was like that the whole week. Luckily, and maybe miraculously, we had enough supplies for all the kids, but it was a lot of keep track of. Every morning, the team divided into pairs and each pair went down one street of the market, collecting the kids. After the camp, we took them all back. THAT was the most nerve-wracking of all. Chiky and I came back with about 30 kids every time. And with the market so crowded, weird traffic and buses, and lots of kids under the age of 10 running around and "chasing butterflies", it was a nightmare to go the two blocks to the school. But I guess it's better that they came with us than if their parents sent them by themselves, which a few of them were prepared to do.

But despite the large group and its inherent disorganization, the kids had a great time, and I loved getting to know everyone even better. Sydney left on the last day of the camp to go home for the holidays, so I was left in Santa Ana without my American friend. But I did get to go out with my new Salvadoran friends! A group of us, five girls and five boys went out on the town for a night of dancing. It was so much fun, because the guys were such good dancers and the girls were so friendly and sweet. Since I was staying at the girls' house for the night, we went there first to get ready. They all did my hair, my makeup and let me borrow a pair of heels. I hadn't realized that I'd missed that until then. It was the first time a curling iron has touched my hair (still haven't used a hair dryer), and the first time I've put on heels since March! Most of the time, the heels aren't necessary since I'm already "tall" for here, but it was still really nice. The boys were great too. We all got to dance with everyone, because they would switch us out in the middle of the song, without missing a step. It wasn't so much the dancing I'd missed, since I do that all the time with the girls, but when I dance with the girls, I always have to be the boy. It was nice to dance with a real boy for once.

The rest of the weekend I spent with the girls in Chalchuapa, helping the sisters shift through the same donations we got in July (since there was so much, they're still going through it now). One night, I went with the girls for Las Posadas, a Mexican tradition that re-enacts Mary and Joseph's quest for a place to stay in Bethlehem. Every night, the statue of Mary and Joseph is moved to a new host house, usually on the opposite side of town, so that you have to process there, singing, blowing whistles, carrying candles and maracas, and generally making a much noise as possible along the way. Once you get the house, the people outside sing a song to ask if they can come in and the people inside sing back a response. It trades off verses until the people inside finally let everybody in. Then, there's a short Bible reading and the Rosary, followed by the most delicious tamales I've had since I've been here. I've decided that I really like this Christmas tradition and can see why they do it every night until Christmas.

For the rest of my time there, I ate pupusas to my heart's content and soaked up the sun until it was time to go back to Honduras.

And now that I'm back here, I've just been in the doorway and helping out whichever sister happens to be here with whatever she needs. Things are pretty slow, and therefore, pretty relaxing. It feels like it's the Christmas season already, with the cold and the music, but something still feels off. However, I'm sure things will fall into place in two weeks, when the folks come to visit!

I hope everyone's enjoying the season, finishing up the semester and catching holiday sales without too much holiday stress! Take a spin under the Zilker tree for me!