Fijese Que

Excuses, we all have them. I have to walk my dog. I need to wash my hair. Peace Corps won't let me.  Whatever your excuses may be, we all use them. Salvadorians are no exception. Here almost all excuses start with the phrase 'Fijese que', which loosely translates to 'It looks like...'. For example, a couple of days ago I ran into a woman who said she was going to come to my woman's group meeting, and then didn't. She had seemed excited about coming when I spoke with her before so I asked her why she did not come. "Fijese que estaba lloviendo muy fuerte, entonces no podía salir la casa." Translation: "I am about to give you a ridiculous excuse, but it was raining very hard, so I could not leave the house." This particular woman lives 4 houses down from me. It takes less than 3min to walk from her house to mine. I wanted to get all up in her grill and confront her about her obvious lack of umbrella, because why else would you not walk down 4 houses to attend my lovely meeting? And you all saw the picture of the women I posted last week, didn't they all look elated to be there?

Last Friday was a parade to celebrate the corn harvest in my pueblo. Many of the local community schools came to walk and represent their areas. That is the extent of my knowledge on the event. My community participated and so did Joelle's, so of course we watched. Some things in this country never cease to perplex me. For example, there was a girl, who was some kind of corn princess (and like 12 years old), and was wearing a midriff-bearing shirt on her corn float. (Picture below.)  

The grocery store in my pueblo has an imported foods section. There are about two dozen items in this section and almost all of them are wildly overpriced. Some things are slightly more odd than others, but most of it is sold in super-sized packs. Like the giant container of candied almonds for $12 or two gallon jugs of cranberry juice for $10 or a three pack of alfredo sauce jars. My favorite part of this section is that they sell pudding packs that are not that expensive. I have never been a pudding fanatic, but I guess because it reminds me of home, I love pudding here. Unfortunately I think I may have hit a wall. A pudding wall. My life is hard (please read on to the next paragraph where my life is actually hard).

I keep promising to tell you all about my water situation in detail. And I promise I will, eventually. I want to dedicate a whole post to it's ridiculousness. But as a teaser, I will tell you that I just went 4 days without having water in my pila. Four days of not washing laundry, not cleaning dishes and worst of all, not bathing. Ugh. You do not have to tell me how gross that is. I am well aware. Today we got water and it is brown. I guess brown water is better than no water? I have bathed, done dishes and washed clothes. I feel as though there is some order in my life again.


People I woke up yesterday morning and found this petrified frog in the middle of my floor. Now I just did a major clean of my house a couple days ago and nothing. Did it fall from the ceiling? Did the wind blow it through my window? Is it actually a ghost of a frog, back to haunt me? I suppose I may never know the answer. It is gross though.

Fijese que I have to go now because.... um I need to wash my hair... again. Deal with it.

Cutie- patuties from my town :)

Corn princess and a 5yo with a beard. 

Love.

Sibling cuddle sesh? 

Life Is Calling... Peace Corps Azerbaijan

Life Is Calling is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories and experiences about life as a recent college graduate conquering the real world. If you would like to submit a story to this series, shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment with your e-mail. Today’s post is by Jenna, a Peace Corps volunteer serving in Azerbaijan.

Life is Calling...

Azadlıq’  is my new favorite word.  It means ‘freedom” and it’s what I’ve begun to yell- William Wallace style- back in the faces of all the women who tell me “toy olsun,” (may you have a wedding). I hear about this subject more often than I drink tea in this country.  Usually, though, the words come a bit more direct.  For example: “You will marry an Azeri boy while you are here, yes?”  

Or, my favorite thus far:  “I want to buy her for my son,” said one neighbor to another as I passed on my way home from the school.  I’m not sure when she intends to propose this idea to my host family.  I am sure, though, that once she sees that my dowry currently consists of a giant brown sleeping bag, my GI medical kit, and a mosquito net, she’ll probably decide I’m not worth too many manat after all.  


 I never thought I could ever be misconstrued as “exotic.” Especially not while wearing flannel.  But, three months into my service in Beylagan, I maintain my empathy for the National Zoo pandas.  It’s always fun to get into staring contests with kids on the streets.  Even more fun when I’m in a market and, after a good 20-second-staredown from a fascinated woman, I startle her and make her drop her bag of sweets by saying “Salam.” (Oh my god, the foreigner…it talks!)  Usually, the first question I get is “are you Russian?” I’ll say ‘no’, and then they’ll ask, “But you speak Russian, right?” Again, I’ll say ‘no,’ (or ‘nyet’ just for fun).  Since Beylagan was one of the regions that were more secluded from Soviet influence, not everyone here speaks Russian, as most do in Baku.  But, because the only foreigners they usually come into contact with are Russian, it is only fair to assume that the 5’11”, light-haired newcomer is visiting from Moscow.  Currently, though, my only Russian knowledge consists of borrowed words (words adopted into the Azeri vocabulary throughout the Soviet occupation).  I can say “Pesok” (sugar), “Rakovina” (sink), and “Kalonka” (shower water heater). Obviously, my Russian communication gets me far.   

   My site mate, Myriam, and I were recently discussing an analogy I would love to share with you folks at home so you can better understand the joys of Azeri language acquisition as a Peace Corps Volunteer:   It’s like teething.  It’s painful and you’re at a stage in life when you have a lot of complaints, but you can’t express yourself.  You can make strange sounds and gestures, but you just have to bear it while you sit silently in the corner and your family giggles about how cute and funny you are when you miss your mouth with your spoon full of rice.  But, eventually, your teeth come in.  (New vocabulary, that is).  You can point to things and say their names.  You can even begin to say what you want instead of whining in the direction of your most beloved possession (the shower).  And, one day, you finally grow even more and can construct sentences.  No longer having to rely on interpretive dance, you can say, “Mən sabah dərsim yoxdur. Mən bakıya gedəcəm.” (I have no lessons tomorrow.  I will go to Baku.)  You start to feel like you’re all grown up and it’s time to go to A.M. kindergarten.  But then, an extended family member asks you to explain America’s position on the Qarabağ conflict, and, because you haven’t yet graduated to dancing in political language, you’re back to teething, kicking, and whining in your high chair again, feeling a dunce cap looming over your head.  That is, linguistically, where I am now- somewhere between the six-year-old who doesn’t always make sense but talks a lot anyway and the fourteen-year-old who just wants to be understood.      

  The first day of Novruz is in mid-March, and is every Azeri’s favorite holiday.  Think of Halloween, Easter, Thanksgiving, and Captain Planet rolled into one epic spring kick-off.  On the three Tuesdays leading up to Novruz, then the final Tuesday that begins the holiday, Azeris return to their Zoroastrian roots by honoring the 4 earth elements with a bonfire.  You jump three times over the fire; it is said to be an act of cleansing and a symbol for leaving troubles behind in the previous year.  There is Torpaq Çərşənbə, or “Earth Tuesday.” After my lessons, I helped Sevinj, my host Mom, lay out the Novruz table, which will stay out and be refilled over the next 12 days.  It includes fruit, nuts, paxlava (Azeri baklava) and other assorted national treats, eggs dyed red, and, finally, the Səməni- a round, dinner plate-sized mini garden of newly-sprouted grass.  This is the symbol of Novruz, and the mark of spring’s beginning. 

Throughout the day guests come and go, stopping long enough for tea, or just to leave more paxlava and wish their family and friends ‘Bayramınız Mübarək’ (happy holiday).  When dusk falls, children hit the streets for the Azeri version of Halloween.  They run up to each house, throw their hats the door, and sing Novruz jingles until the family hears them and fills their hats with treats.  When we had our final bonfire and Vidadi, my host Dad, brought home fireworks to launch in the backyard.  To close out the night, as with every other event of any kind in Azerbaijan, there is a feast: a giant pot of rice flavored with saffron, sheep and chicken kebabs from the backyard, peach nectar, and, of course, paxlava, tea, and more paxlava.  And this, friends, is the “small holiday.” The big holiday happens on March 20-21, the first official days of spring.  This has already been one of my favorite experiences in Azerbaijan, and I know I will definitely be bringing Novruz back to the States.  It’s so much fun that I’m quite possibly just as excited about Novruz as I am about St. Patrick’s Day.(We all know that’s saying a lot about Novruz!)

For those of you who may be able to visit me in Azerbaijan over the next 21 months, I have one important piece of advice: come hungry.  There are some wonderful folks here who are eager to share their lovely culture…and send you into a series of food comas that will put turkey tryptophan to shame.(That’s a hint- come visit me :) ) 

This is a Man's World But it Wouldn't be Nothing, Nothing Without a Woman or a Girl

RH for Rural Health. My camera is awesome and
so is my friend Alex who knows how
to take crazy pics like this.

I apologize for making you all wait to find out how my woman's group went last week. It got to the point where I just decided to wait till after this weeks meeting and update you on both. I literally cannot believe that a week has gone by so quickly. So I will give you all an update of both of my meetings and other random things that I know you care about. (Also sorry for the double negative in my title, if you have issues with it you can take it up with James Brown.)

Well folks, my first woman's group meeting was a success! 21 women showed up, which was a huge turn out. Honestly I told my self I would be happy if half that amount came. (Where I was planning on finding half a person is unknown.) My host mom kept telling me how excited she was because when the volunteer before me had a women's group, and there were only 8 women (on a good day) who would come. We started off by doing an ice breaker, or in Spanish dinamica. (Don't you just love how I slipped that word of the day in there?) Peace Corps LOVES dinamicas. During training, we must have done at least one dinamica everyday. I would just like to say, that dinamicas are awkward and usually embarrassing and gringos pretty much hate them. But here is the catch, Salvadorians *love* them. And when working in a culture where everyone has a lot of shame to speak out in front of people, an ice breaker is often what gets rid of a lot of that initial shyness. The dinamica I did was slightly risque, and the women loved it. It is called fruit salad and everyone goes around and says their name and favorite fruit. So for example, I said was 'Hi my name is Chelsea and I like melons'. The second time around you say 'Hi my name is Chelsea and the first thing I do when I get up in the morning is wash my melons...' Then you just wait for the hilarity of that to sink in, and every woman then has to insert their names and fruit into the formula. This is not usually how women talk down here, but the laughing was a nice release of energy and totally broke the awkwardness.

The rest of the meeting was spent working out some of the technicalities of the group. The women decided they wanted to meet every week, same time same place. Also I had them vote on some possible future meeting topics. What I have decided, based on their voting results, is to alternate weeks with healthy cooking classes/ nutrition and health lessons. I also want to throw in some random stuff like recycled jewelry and shampoo making. Everyone seemed very upbeat and excited.

Something I learned about some of the women in my community is that many are illiterate. I would say about 1/3 of the women who came to my group could not write their name on the sign in sheet I had out. I don't know why I am so shocked, the women who could not write their name were a little older, and grew up during a time when it was not common for girls to go to school. But still it really made me think. These women have never read a book. Ever. They have never signed their name or written a letter. I cannot imagine a life like that. My friend Joelle is trying to start a literacy movement in her site, but I just have this feeling that the women in my site would be resistant. My community is very set in its ways, and a project like that might not work, but I feel like even if I could get these people to write their names it would be a huge improvement on their lives. We will see.

My host dad, Orlando, and I were talking the other day and we started talking about old coins. I love to look at the dates on the coins down here. Because El Salvador uses the USD, the coins that are here are usually old or brand new. As it turns out Orlando has a coin collection. He brought it out and showed me this penny. It is from 1838! How crazy is that. He said he found it when he was living in Boston. Nuts.

Also This week I have been on what I call The Great Egg Quest. I am not looking for eggs, I am eating them. At the grocery store the smallest amount of eggs you can buy is 15. So I have to purchase my eggs in sets of 15. (My chickens are not laying eggs yet, they are still too young.) Last week at my women's group meeting two women each brought me 6 eggs. So I had 15 already and then I had another 12. Eggs are good for about a month, but something about having that many eggs makes me a little anxious. So I have been on an egg eating spree this week. Eggs for breakfast, eggs for lunch, eggs for dinner. I might be going slightly crazy.

Yesterday was spent in a whirl wind trying to get ready for today's meeting. I went into Metapan to get the ingredients for hummus and extra large paper for the meeting. I also spent roughly 4 hours of my day walking to every house in my community handing out invitations again. This is not something I enjoy people. It is hot here. Also my community is what my boss calls semi-mountainous, which basically is a nice way of saying there is no down hill in my community. It is up hill all ways. I was beat when I got home, no way I can do that every week. I am hoping people will start just remember to coming on their own.

The lovely ladies that came out in
the rain to the meeting today. 

I wanted to take the second meeting and keep it pretty light and fun. I am trying to keep the women coming back. This week I decided to do a cooking class and nutrition lesson. We went over the food pyramid and made hummus. I was a little nervous, as this was the first content based meeting. I spoke a little fast, and the ladies did not care for the hummus, but hey live and learn. I feel happy that I exposed them to something none of them had ever tried before. And I am happy that so many women came out even though it was pouring. 12 women came, my host mom is hiding behind some people because she did not want her picture taken.

I was going to have the women vote on a president, vice president, treasure, etc. today but decided that the group is still a little unstable. So I think until a core group of women start showing every week, I will hold off. But I do think it is key to have them planning the meetings and events. I think it will make the group more sustainable. I know these women are capable of improving their lives, they just need a little push.

Today is also El Salvador independence day from Spain. They won their independence in 1821. That was a long time ago, it is amazing the after effects that the Spanish had on this small country that can still be seen today. The Spanish made it illegal to be an indigenous person, so everyone was forced to dress and act like the Spanish and switch from their native languages to Spanish. An interesting observation about El Salvador is that it has very little culture of its own. But from what I can see, this country is slowly but surly building up its own traditions, but the moving is slow. So everyone have a beer for El Salvador's independence today!

This week I am going to start a new part of my blog where I post submissions from friends. The general idea is to talk about the challenges of be a recently graduated person dealing with life in this economy, or anything they feel like writing about. I am not too strict. If you are reading this and want to submit a post, just leave me a comment or send me an e-mail.

Here are a couple of belated photos from my In Service training a couple of weeks ago.

Making indigo tie-dye shirts is a very serious business people.

This is my boss Carlos. This picture was posed. 

Just where we had IST, no big deal.

My friends are so proper.
Joelle, Alex and Sarah 

This girl sleeps in the strangest positions...

Give Me Everything

Alright people I know it has been a few weeks since I have written, but I have been very uninspired to write. But I do have a few stories from the past few weeks that you all might enjoy. So as usual here are a compilation of stories that make up my life here in The Savior.

First of all I want to share my new found love of Pitbull with everyone. I know what you are all thinking, who is that again? Pitbull is an American rapper born to Cuban immigrant parents in Miami. I was slightly disappointed to find out he was not actually born in Cuba, as it takes away from his appeal a little. He is also known for being a snappy dresser, almost always seen in suits. And being the badass that he is, he always wears sunglasses. (Oddly when I googled imaged him, and saw pics of him with out sun glasses on, I observed that he looks very quizzical.) (Also please don't judge me for google imaging Pitbull.) He has come out with many hot dance songs, including the title of my blog today. This song is HUGE down here right now, and playing on repeat on my Ipod right now. I have no shame. I love Pitbull.

This is what I wake up to every morning.
Just waiting to get fed...

Second: last week I went to a GAD show in a small town called Juayua. This town is known for food festivals that are hosted there every weekend. When my family visited, we stopped by the food festival for lunch, and were more than impressed. Juayua is not very far from my site, maybe an hour and a half by car. But since PCV's are not allowed to drive, I took the bus. Let me tell you, the bus is always an adventure. Wither people are selling you anything you could ever think of, clowns performing for tips or disabled people with blood bags hanging off the side of them asking for money, you are sure to always have an interesting trip. On this specific trip, I had to take a bus from my pueblo, Metapan, to the capital of my department Santa Ana, then get on a bus to the city of Sonsonate and catch another bus to Juayua. This takes about 4 hours.

 I had to leave Metapan pretty early in order to make it to Juayua in time, and I fell asleep on the bus. I woke up when we were in Santa Ana and, fearful that I had missed my stop, I asked the woman next to me if I had missed the terminal stop. She assured me that I had not, and as she was also getting off there so she would let me know. Our stop came up, and we got off. The woman told me she would walk me to the terminal as it is not in a good part of town. We get to the terminal, no problem, and she decides that she really does not feel comfortable leaving me alone. I contemplate telling her I had self defence training the two weeks before and that I am carrying pepper spray, but as I don't know how to say pepper spray, I do not say anything. At this point she spots her boss who is eating pupusas at a shop in the terminal. We go over and say hi, and he invites us to join him for pupusas and coffee. It is never polite to turn down pupusas (and I love them so I never would), but I seriously considered it as there were a pair of antenna staring at me in the crack in the wood in front of me as I sat and ate.

We ate pupusas, generously purchased by the boss of a woman I had never met before this morning, as I awaited another member of GAD who I was meeting up with at the terminal. When the woman and her boss finished eating they decided it was time to go to work, but the woman clearly had issues leaving me alone, even though I assured her my friend would be there in under 5min. Apparently I look like a good person to rob. Looking skeptical at the thought of leaving me alone, the woman calls the pupusa lady over and tells her to keep an eye on me until my friend gets there. The pupusa lady does not look pleased with this task and responds that if I have faith in God, I will be protected. The woman I met on the bus looks at the pupusa lady like she is out of her mind. The bus woman looks at me and tells me to watch my back, she then turns and leaves. Thankfully nothing happened in the next 3min before my friend got there, but I now remember very clearly what it is like to be baby-sat.

Third: I spent my first 7 months in country being super healthy. But it is like a switch flipped and I have been sick 3 times in the past month! I can only hope this is not a habit. The last time was this past weekend. I was headed to the last showing of GAD's musical, A Mi Manera. I was in a car with my boss, Carlos, and our country director, Jaime and two other GAD members. I woke up early and had not had time to eat. So as we set off on the hour drive to the show and as I began to feel sick, I attributed my upset stomach to hunger. About 10min before we arrived, I knew I could not wait another moment, and I asked Jaime to pull the car over. He did and I immediately threw up everywhere. Love to keep it classy in front of my boss'.

Fourth: I have mentioned the GAD musical a couple of times in this post. The musical has now come to an end, and it was pretty successful. The musical was created by another volunteer and GAD member and addresses gender roles and stereotypes. The play was put on by a group of Salvadorian college students, who performed it 7 times all over the country for volunteers of the region and students or youth groups they brought. The kids watch the play, and after are broken into small discussion groups. The group leaders are given a set of questions that address the issues brought up in the play. Some of the issues addressed are the stereotype that women who have condoms are prostitutes or promiscuous, men should not cook or clean, and women should live with having an abusive, non faithful husband.  Powerful stuff.

Fifth: I have my first women's group meeting this Thursday! yay! I am nervous, but also excited to see who turns up. I am going to take this time to gauge interest in the group as a whole, interest on possible meeting topics and hopefully vote on a President, VP, secretary, etc.

Updates to come people, stay tuned.