Hmmm...
I am grateful to my Grandmother for keeping me accountable to this blog. I have started to write a few different times and have stopped short, but when Grandma asks to know what is going on... then it is time to start writing. I have had a difficult time writing, not because I lack fun stories or interesting developments, but rather because the most heavy things on my mind lately are darker. I really don´t think that they majority of people want to hear about them. But... this is my reality too. I am constantly pondering my place, my role, and how I am perceived by people here. I am the ¨Gringo¨: an outsider who is assumed to be rich and is a mysterious curiousity.
I´m reading a book called ¨Las Venas Abiertas de Latinoamerica¨, which is really interesting if quite political. There was a quote that caught me and reminded me of the reason why I chose to come here. The quote went something like this: ¨If you are doing nothing to change our current unjust system, then you are perpetuating the system.¨
I think that it is often difficult to see or understand ëxactly what is this so-called ¨system¨ and how it is so unjust as we look around our surroundings in the States. Yet, it seems that here the signs are a bit more clear. Thigngs are very far from the way that they should be. My neighbors make $150 a month or $5 a day. Which is probably extremely wealthy if I would go down to Bolivia or cross the ocean to some parts of Africa.
I spend the vast majority of my time convincing people that everything in the U.S. is so much more expensive than it is here... which technically is true. I also validate all of the cars that we have, because we don´t have adequate public transportation... also techinically true. I just fail to mention that very few in the States could ever imagine living in the conditions that these people take for granted.
A medical clinic that is open and has a doctor... sometimes (there is not any kind of fixed schedule). Schools that have teachers... most of the time (when they decide to come). Water that flows... half the time (and still you have to boil before you drink it). A telephone that works... but only ONE and it is by the church (although I think that two or three other families have a telephone directly to their house!). Kids have shoes... but that are only to be used for school or special events so that they don´t wear out too soon (old women don´t often wear shoes).
Interestingly, I don´t think that the problem is as easy as that these people are too poor. I think that it is equally problematic that other people are too rich. How did such a difference become acceptable to us?
My purpose with this writing isn´t to convict anyone or make us all feel guilty. My purpose is two-fold: As always, I write in the hopes that the people who love me and whom I love can get a glimpse into my mind and my life. This discrepency between what I have always had and could return to within days (I have a free plane ticket home if I choose to quit)and the reality of these people´s lives which have never known a luxury and without some amazing change, never will.
I must and I do constantly think and analyze and pray about what these things mean for my life, my job, my faith. How must I now live in order to live a life that makes sense? How must I change?
Oh... and the second reason that I write this particular ¨entry¨. It is to make you think. I always tell my students: I don´t care about the ¨right¨ answer, I want you to think!! I want you to consider if this crazy difference between the ¨top¨ and the ¨bottom¨ has anything to do with your life. And if so, what changes need to be made.
Hmmmmm...
(It would be interesting to get some comments on this one... then maybe you could help me process as well).
Miradita
Don´t have a lot more to say (that is a lie... I always have more to say), but I thought that I would just post a couple more pictures. One picture is just of my town... I don´t think I put it on the other post. There are no roads that are paved and really only one ¨road¨ which is suitable for a car. The other two entrances are pretty much only good for walking or a dirt-bike. Which is ok, because as far as I know there are only 1 or 2 trucks in my town and maybe 3 dirt- bikes.
Another picture is of my best friend in town and neighbor with his 3 year old son. His name is Carlos, but I call him Chuck Norris because he calls me Steven Seagal (Who is EXTREMELY popular here... as are all martial arts movie stars). He is a 7th grade teacher at the school and as far as I know their family (his wife is also a teacher at the school) are the only mestizos in town. (A mestizo is not black or white... what we normally think of as Latino or the stereotypical Mexican).
The two little boys are kids that live close by and come by to visit me, Ghandi (the son of my neighbor in the picture) or Carlos. Kevin is the smaller boy and I don´t think that I have ever seen him wear pants or shoes. I don´t know if he just prefers it that way or doesn´t have any.
The picture of the two girls was at a party in another community. Dancing here is crazy popular and there are dance presentations at every get together... they are awesome!
Cachos (Funny Stories)
Well, this past week has been a week of "firsts". I have enjoyed them and I think that you may enjoy hearing about some of them.
I taught my first classes in the High School. I am going to spend 2 periods a week with 10th, 11th, and 12th grade. They were fun... we played lots of games and did lots of activities talking about Communication (how we communicate and how we can do it better).
Locked myself out of my house for the first time (I'm sure not the last) - Will tell story below.
Worked in the fields for the first time with some of the people... helped to irrigate. Hard work. Everything is done by hand. Amazing.
Drank warm milk straight from the cow for the first time. Good stuff.
Tryed to kill a chicken for the first time. I failed... that is why I write "Tryed"... but I am sure that I will get a second chance. Who knew that cutting a chickens head off required so much force? Anyway, I was just an accomplice in this particular animal euthinasia. I held the feet. Tasted good.
Locked out of house:
It was saturday night and I went to check out a "baile" (dance) that was going down in the park in my town... I knew that this baile was happening because the music was BUMPING (I found out later that the music could be heard two towns away). Actually when I arrived, I found out that it was the two biggest speakers in all of the town hooked up and playing music (they are this one guys business, since baile's are so popular)... but no one was actually dancing. Which is actually fairly strange, because everyone LOVES to dance. Instead, there were only males (no females to be found, hence no dancing) and they were sitting around the basketball court (which is really what the "park" that I mentioned earlier consists of). They were chatting and drinking, not at all uncommon.
I hung out for a while and then went back home about 11:30 to go to bed. When I got back, I realized that I had closed the masterlock on one door and shut the other door... which locks autmatically (because there is no handle on the outside). Yet, I had forgotten to bring a key. Whoops. I decided I would try a few windows to see if I could get in through there. I wasn't realy worried whether I could open them from the outside, because they all basically fall out with any kind of effort. The real problem was that they are very, very small.
I quickly took out one piece of glass and standing on a bucket I stuck my hands and arms through the window and started to squeeze my shoulders through. I got to my armpits and then realized that I didn't think that my waist with my belt was going to fit through. At this point, I am halfway wedged into a tiny window place about 6 feet off the ground with my legs sticking out in the air in the middle of the night. I started to panic... I wasn't sure that I could get out or make it in. Finally, with visions of teh whole town coming down to see the silly gringo stuck in his own window... I unstuck myself and escaped back outside. Wheww. How long would that story of lasted? (Correct answer: until the coming of Christ or the end of the world.)
I was still in the same dilemma of being outside of my house instead of inside where all of my keys were. But I was re-energized... I decided to investigate more windows. I decided that the kitchen window was a little larger and I could probably make it. I did. After much wiggling and arm crawling, I pulled myself in through the window, across the stove, and to success! VICTORY. Silent chants with armpumps at midnight in a dark kitchen.
I hoped you enjoyed my dramatization of the events of last Saturday night.
