Roller Coaster

                So I’ve been in my site for a while and it’s been a lot of ups and downs, which was expected.  On the one hand, my community is so welcoming and is really excited that I am here.  I have been observing in the schools a lot (just observing so I can gain trust and learn how everything is done) and it’s been a life-saver.  Not only does it give me something to do and structure to my day, but I get along really well with the teachers and all the kids know my name and tell their parents how awesome I am.  And, of course, my host family is the bomb – they are so caring and welcoming (my host dad introduced me as his fourth and oldest daughter). 

On the other hand, this is easily the hardest thing I have ever done.   I know that I can do this, but I have no idea what I am going to do or how I am going to get there.  I don’t know if my radiant personality is able to shine through my limited Spanish.  I realize that a lot of my mood depends on my interactions with people in the community and how I perceive their reaction to me.  However, the fact that I don’t completely understand the cultural nuances here means that I’m not sure if what I perceive is what is being projected.  There is this thing called pena here, which kind of means they are really shy, but essentially means that those who have pena don’t really talk to you or answer your questions (at least at first), and for someone who is new and still struggling to understand the language and the culture, it makes me feel really insecure at times.  Being so far away from my support net with the daunting task of getting to know an entire community and help them build sustainable projects and incorporate environmentalism into their everyday life is an overwhelming prospect.  The only thing that keeps me going strong is the belief that everything will happen in time and I shouldn’t rush anything.  The first day I arrived, in fact, this lady said “a cada cosa, su tiempo” (to everything, its time).  Basically, everything has its season and timing and you shouldn’t try to rush it or prolong it.  She was talking about a baby horse, but I felt that it also applied to me, and this phrase has kept me going.

                Of course, most people here think I am crazy for leaving my family and are sympathetic to my homesickness, especially since they live with their parents until they are married with children, and even then they don’t always leave.  And there have been really good moments here.  The day before I arrived was my birthday and my host family called me to wish me happy birthday.  Then, that first day I arrived was a birthday party for my host dad, but they had made me a cake, too, and they put me up behind the cake and sang Happy Birthday to me in English.  It was the sweetest thing to hear my entire extended host family stumble through Happy Birthday to make me feel loved.  And the cake was delicious, too.  It was also really touching when the kids at school made me play baseball with them, or when one of the teachers showed me all the pictures on her camera. 

And there are little things, too, like the fact that after dinner my host family sits in front of the T.V. and watched telenovelas while eating ice cream (I’m becoming addicted to Una Maid en Manhattan).  It’s funny to see how the drama of the novelas contrast with the laid-back reality of their daily life.  One of my host cousins knows everything there is to know about birds and has been teaching me all the names and calls of the birds found around here.  Everyone here grows beans called guandú and they sit for hours peeling the pods and sorting through the beans.  The first time I played soccer, no one really talked to me (pena?) but they didn’t turn me away and passed me the ball a decent amount, and now a few of them are even acknowledging me and actually talking to me.

Because my community is so based in agriculture, I get to see a lot of how people get their food.  For example, my host dad picks a lot of pipas, or green coconuts, and using a machete cuts through the husk to create a small hole to drink the milk.  Then, you cut the pipa in half and eat the meat with a spoon.  There’s also a lot of cattle around here, and one morning someone brought me fresh, still warm milk, which my mom used to make arroz con leche.  Since she didn’t have cinnamon, she just broke off small branched from the cinnamon tree they have in their back yard, dried them, and cooked the rice and milk with them.  Or the other day I went to one man’s farm a grind sugar cane (moler caña – I don’t know how to phrase a lot of things in English anymore).  He used a machine that was run by a horse and pushed the sugar cane through twice to squeeze out all the juice, or guarapo.  You can either drink it fresh or cold (which I did – it was really sweet), but he then boils it down for 24 hours to make molasses.

My community also has a lot of chickens everywhere.  In the United States, when you hear something rustling in the bushes it’s probably a squirrel.  Here, it’s probably a chicken.  They wander around everywhere, returning to their home only to eat and lay eggs.  And then when they stop laying eggs where you want them to, or you have a special occasion, the meat tastes better and is healthier and you know the chicken had a happier life.  They get into everything – my family spends a lot of time chasing them off the front porch, and it was quite a hullaballoo when they were nesting in  the latrine and my host mom had to chase them out with a broom.  They remind me so much of dinosaurs, feathery, tasty, harmless t-rexes.

So although it’s been really hard to be so far away from everything familiar and I wake up every morning missing home, by the time the day is over I have experienced a lot of generosity and hospitality, and some neat, new experiences.  I feel as though the entire community here has adopted me.  When I walk around with my guide, the houses we visit always give me things like plantains, fruit, eggs or beans, but they don’t give him anything.  I think it’s because I don’t have a proper family here to take care of me, so now everyone is doing so.