mariahquinn

06:51 pm

During our initial week of orientation we visited La Iglesia del Rosario, a church in downtown El Salvador which, from the outside, is neither attractive nor inviting. Frankly, as we approached I had little interest in this graffiti-ridden cement block. Upon entering the church, however, I was greeted with the most shockingly beautiful stain glass. Perhaps the initial impact of the vibrant colors was all the more powerful because it was wholly unexpected. After several minutes revealing in the splendor of the light, I was introduced the La Iglesia’s second treasure: the Stations of the Cross depicted through cement and wire. Again, an unlikely medium managed to so completely convey such emotion; suffering, longing, and love. I am certain that the lesson of La Iglesia del Rosario will reoccur throughout my summer; indeed, I have already observed such love and devotion in my host family, despite the poverty they endure.

My first days in the campo bordered on unbearable. Adjusting to the campo accent was, and remains, much more difficult than I had anticipated. Even so, my host family and I have managed to connect—through drawing, sports, and cards—none of which I am particularly talented at, but everyone seems to appreciate the effort! And so, after just two weeks, I adore my host family.

The mom (Francisca) seems to truly relish motherhood and has unending patience with her grandkids, almost to the point of spoiling. Ale (5) explained that her parents moved to Boston but she has a second dad here: her uncle Noe. Eduardo (6) promptly announced she was a 'mentirosa', a liar. The truth is that the entire family cares for the kids, and happily too. Ale is beautiful and full of spunk. Eduardo is more even-keeled and tolerates favoritism for Ale marvelously.

In all, there are nine people in the family. I share a room with Lupe (16) and Eduardo. Francisca, Alejandra and the three boys share the second bedroom. Lola, the oldest daughter still at home, and her husband live in a cramped room adjacent to the main house. I am grateful for the tile floor and that my host family has a well (as opposed to some families who share one common well and trek water back to their homes).

I am living in Las Ermitas or maybe Las Hermitas (there’s some confusion regarding the spelling). I have discovered that Las Ermitas is actually a happening place when compared to the surrounding communities. Las Ermitas offers a paved road, a tienda, a school, a clinic, and a community building. Of these, I am most grateful for the paved road.

By way of explanation, I will describe my first rain storm. It was unbelievable, something out of a movie. I could hardly contain myself from laughing. We were on a dirt, or rather mud, road headed for a remote village near the shrimp farms. There were lakes on either side and the road disappeared altogether in some places, so that we were wading through thigh-high water. The chain fell off four times, it was pitch-black, oh, and I had no brakes.

Random thoughts…

Things I love:

How the kids say my name (which, by the way, is now Graciela or Gracielita)
Doing laundry by hand
Eduardo’s laugh (my host brother, 6, adorable)
My mosquito net (on a related note, the fact that my anti-itch stuff works)
Braiding my host mom’s hair
Playing cards with the boys
That the baby chickens, and now the bunnies, sleep inside
Lola’s eggs in the morning (my host sister, 24, constantly stuffing me with food)
How green the world is
Drawing with the neighborhood kids
Eating new fruits straight off the tree (don’t worry Mom, I don’t eat the peal)
Riding in the back of a pick-up
Hammocks (I especially love that three or four people squeeze onto one hammock)
Making a fool out of myself while playing Frisbee and softball in the street
Taking a cold shower after a run
That people switch into a different register when incredulous or  scolding


Things I find frustrating / am still adjusting to:

Biking on non-paved roads in the land of “inundaciones”
That school is only half-day, and hardly required
Perpetually being offered food, especially if the rest of the family is eating something different
That Alejandra cannot consistently count to three
The fact that I have already been sick twice
That Lola and Francisca insist on washing the mud off my legs and  feet

Which is actually just one manifestation of a more general frustration: I am too often treated as an incapable princess. I have attempted, on several occasions, to explain that I simply want to be a member of the family. I regularly feel spoiled and unhelpful; qualities which are not even remotely related to my summer goals. Thankfully, I have made some improvements as I am now allowed to bring my own dishes to the dirty-dishes pile, do my own laundry (provided I get to it first), and decide when and where I would like to sit down. While these might seem like common courtesies performed by even the least considerate of guests, they actually represent significant progress! On a more positive note, I am confident that the situation can only improve.