Let Me Paint You A Picture

I am back from two weeks of vacation in America. After 12 hours of traveling and three plane changes, I step off the plane in San Salvador. It is 1:15 AM. Everyone around me is tired as we are all filling out our customs forms. I only have a pencil so I ask the flight attendant if that is ok, she says yes. Since it is so late, we are the only group waiting to get through customs. A baby starts crying. The officials usher the mother and baby to the front of the line. My turn with the customs officer comes up. He is speaking to me about my intentions in El Salvador, but it is loud and he is whispering. I have to ask him to repeat what he said 3 times. He shakes his head as though he is sad someone who does not speak Spanish is coming into the country. I want to clarify that I just could understand him, I just could not hear him. I let it go though because it is now 2 AM and is not worth it. I find my checked suit case. I then go to the last area where you declare anything you may be bringing into the country. I get reprimanded for filling out my declaration statement in pencil. I then find a pen and fill out the form again.

 I step outside only to be bombarded with the stares of 100 Salvadorians waiting for loved ones, but instead see me. I am then very aware that I am not in the US anymore. I find my taxi driver who is patiently waiting for me. As I am waiting for him to pull the car around I rest my hand on a wall and take in El Salvador at 2 AM. It is hot. I look over at my hand... there is a large cockroach just chillin on it. Fantastic. On the way to the hostel I stayed at, we almost got into an accident with a drunk diver who was driving on the wrong side of the road. Thank goodness my taxi driver was on his toes at 2:30 AM.

As I am headed back to my site, I am a little apprehensive about what it will be like after two weeks in the States. I always feel guilty when I am away from my community for more than a day or two. I am feeling even more guilty about having gone to the States so easily. Most of the people who have been to the States here spend their life savings only to risk their lives for three weeks to get there illegally. But that is a story for another day. When I finally get back my host family/ next door neighbors come running over and all give me big hugs. I am glad to be back and ready to get to work. Vacation update to come soon!