I walked out of my house at 12 noon. Definitely not the best time to be traveling. The hot oven heat practically knocked me off my feet. But at least it was dry! (Extra bonus - my hair was wet from my recent shower.) So on I marched to the bus stop with my goal of iced coffee and air conditioning firmly in mind.
Now, I know that some people may have cultivated this idea that Peace Corps is without any comforts, and I for one had that idea in mind as well. (And some Peace Corps volunteers definitely still have that "few comforts" type experience.) But not me. Everyone's experience is different in the Peace Corps. (Differences are immense between continents, and countries, but even within this tiny country, the size of Massachusetts, the differences are still outstanding.)
My experience is made much more different by the fact that I am about 20-40 minutes from the 3rd largest city in El Salvador. (The time changes depending on whether you are in public transportation or private, how many people are getting on or off the bus, and what time of day it is.) So about this city. San Miguel - La Perla del Oriente (Pearl of the East, as they so humbly call their city) is a hot, hot, hot spot to be. And I don't just mean for all the awesome pupusas, great market deals, and cat calling locals. No, it's just a great place to be.
Some days I come for the market - nothing like buying all the food you could stuff your face with for a week for 5 dollars. Sometimes I splurge and buy a lot of fresh fruit and my total shoots up to $6.50. Booyah! Some days I come for the vet - Monkey needs her shots and I for sure ain't gonna give them to her. Some times it's just passing through on the way to meetings or get-togethers in other cities. And some days it's for Metro Centro.
Metro Centro is a mall. It's the only mall east of San Salvador and it's here in San Miguel. And it's air conditioned. And has cafes with wireless. I know, you are all promising yourself that you will never again feel sorry for me (as if you ever have, but I don't know why you would have.) So when I can't take the heat any more in my site, and I want to be able to sit in relative comfort while "internetting", I come to Metro Centro. And normally it's a calm, tranquil experience, where I sometimes run into students from my community, teachers from the schools I help out in or other volunteers. But not today.
Today is a game between Barcelona and Real Madrid - two Spanish futbol teams. (The crowd is currently going crazy because someone just scored. I can't see who.) So this cafe that I'm in right now, aside from having wireless, has a fairly large flat screen TV. While the women and children are out shopping, their husbands, brothers, boyfriends, sons etc. sit around and watch the game. A lot of times the women join in too, though. And it is packed right now. I can't even see the screen from where I'm sitting. The game started at 2 and I've been here since about 12:30. By 12:45 there was standing room only. Some people are just walking by and watching a little bit before they continue on to their shopping; some people look like they plan on standing for the whole game. Which, I guess at a stadium you might end up standing for a lot of the game anyway, because you're singing and cheering and participating, but here there isn't even an option of sitting. But it is air conditioned. And crowded.
But the good thing about there being something really interesting on TV is that Gringo TV is not so special today. People are giving me weird looks because they can see that I couldn't care less about the game. (I'm facing away from the TV, way in the back.) But they think that's normal for us Americans, what with our obsession for pig skin football.
So I'm here, enjoying a coffee, and wireless internet, while an enormous contingent of Salvadorans crowd around a TV for a futbol game. Gawsh it's good to be a Peace Corps Volunteer!
April 10, 2010
March 12, 2010
an attempt to save $0.20
I step out into the "crisp"
I was given directions - take the number 5, it stops by the pharmacy on the corner then continues on. After it makes a turn, get off. Then get on the 44. If I could just get myself on the 44 then I knew where I was going and I would be golden. Or so I thought. I've walked the distance before to where I thought the 5 would stop and I would have to get the 44. So I thought - I'll walk. It's not a bad walk and it saves me 20 cents. (I'm so stinking frugal it might actually be bad for my health.)
The walk is all downhill, which is not nice on the knees of course, but lets you see some of the city. (Granted through smog, but hey, everything can't be perfect!) I make it to where the 44 should be. I ask a friendly drug store security guard (armed of course) where I can agarrar (grab) the 44. He tells me at the corner and across the street. I walk to what could be considered a corner (the street bends) and see a 44 across the street so I cross and get on.
I'm pretty confident where I am and the bus is going in the right direction for where I need to go... sort of. As soon as we take off I expect the bus to turn, but no luck. We keep going. We pass the Presidential House and head on out to the luxury malls on the outside of town. I see 44s going the other direction on the road so I know that eventually we will turn around - but when? Also, as more and more people get off, I realize that I will awkwardly be the last one on and the driver will wonder why I didn't just get on the bus on the other side of the street. I also wonder if the driver ends at a terminal and has to take a mandated break. (Doubtful, but the thought convinces me I should get off.)
I verify that other 44s are still passing in the other direction, get off the one I'm on and agarrar one on the other side of the street. (After walking a discreet distance in the opposite direction in case the driver could see me - of course! Man, I worry too much what people think about me!) This 44 heads back the exact same way I came. As we approach where I got on the wrong 44 I pay attention to learn my mistake. All of sudden a number 5 appears in front of us (the bus I was supposed to take, but didn't to "save" 20 cents - so much for that!). We follow the bus around a series of turns and then end up in a mini terminal area where various bus lines meet up and passengers scramble on and off buses to head throughout town. The 5 and the 44 stop right next to each other. This is where I was supposed to come.
So now I know I'm on the right 44 and we head off to where I need to go. But honestly it's not anything that I'm kicking myself for. It happens too often for it to be anything other than an adventure. Literally every time I'm in the city I grab the wrong bus, or the right bus going in the wrong direction, or a similar bus going in a different direction. And each time I see a new part of the city. These bus adventures are a great way to see the city. It's faster than walking. And I consider it safer because I'm in a bus with other people instead of on the street walking alone. (Now granted, if someone unsavory gets on the bus, then I'm kind of trapped on the bus with the person, but that could happen on any bus, right or wrong.) So while I really would have liked to save those 20 cents, it was mostly well spent. Also, I'll always remember exactly how to catch the correct 44!
February 8, 2010
more photos
I'm on a photo kick. Enjoy it!
the nice thing about having parents come visit is an excuse to get pictures of the market. otherwise I just feel ridiculous.
more market
more market - where's waldo?
and still a good kid, looking both ways before I cross the street... :)
That's it for right now. I will try and put up more photos. Possibly a video of Monkey!
the nice thing about having parents come visit is an excuse to get pictures of the market. otherwise I just feel ridiculous.
more market
more market - where's waldo?and still a good kid, looking both ways before I cross the street... :)
That's it for right now. I will try and put up more photos. Possibly a video of Monkey!
January 30, 2010
photos!
I have finally been able to upload some photos, so enjoy!
AGEE 2009-2011
my "office"
I'll eventually be borrowing a bookshelf from the school, I just haven't grabbed it yet.
kitchen
I spend a lot of time in here
my living room
it's huge, and I have just a hammock
the bedroom
bed is right next to me as I'm taking the photo
the bathroom
it's really big, and clean. I swear!
back yard
notice the hammock, pila (water trough/washing area), sitting area and totaled car. The car is not mine...
Monkey!
kind of a bad photo, but she's a cutie
AGEE 2009-2011
my "office"I'll eventually be borrowing a bookshelf from the school, I just haven't grabbed it yet.
kitchenI spend a lot of time in here
my living roomit's huge, and I have just a hammock
the bedroombed is right next to me as I'm taking the photo
the bathroomit's really big, and clean. I swear!
back yardnotice the hammock, pila (water trough/washing area), sitting area and totaled car. The car is not mine...
Monkey!kind of a bad photo, but she's a cutie
January 22, 2010
good afternoon, class
I did it! I survived my first week of classes. I was not eaten alive, I was not sent home crying at the end of the day and I even had some little successes in this first week!
So as you might already know I was roped in to being the "substitute" English teacher. The one they had last year found another job. Supposedly the school has another teacher lined up, and they just need me to fill in for a little bit. But that's why I put "substitute" in quotes. I have a feeling this could easily be a many month position. We'll see.
I'm the English teacher for the afternoon crowd. The morning English teacher is still at the school. He has been helping me get my materials together and otherwise get me "orientated" to the whole teaching thang. (They forget that I'm not a teaching professional. I'm a college grad with a degree in Political Economy. Which means I need help! Sure I know English, but anyone who has ever been in a classroom knows that's often not enough!)
So I get to work with the 6th - 9th graders. The 6th graders are young enough that they are pretty much willing to learn anything. The 7th graders have the biggest 'tudes of all the grades, but they are still a high energy group which is good. I want lots of participation and they love competition, so I'm going to use that to my advantage. The 8th graders are great. It's a huge group, 42 students I think, but they are all well behaved, which is amazing! They are also pretty listo (literally "ready" but in this sense also "intelligent", or "quick"). The 9th graders will be an interesting group to work with. School here ends at 9th grade, and you can continue on to Bachillerato if you want. (Bachillerato is either a 2 or 3 year education track, depending on what you choose to concentrate. It's kind of like a vo-tech high school. You can specialize in Auto Mechanics, Nursing, Tourism, Accounting, Business or Generalized studies. If your family has money, after Bachillerato you can go on to a University.) So some of the 9th graders are already in "senioritis" mode while others are ready to get down to business to prepare for Bachillerato. Some are serious about studying English and some just want to make googly eyes at their boyfriend. But what can ya do?
I began all the classes with review - numbers 1-100, days of the week, months of the year, classroom vocab etc. Most of them just began English studies last year, so they are more or less on the same page. At the end of the first class I asked all the students to write an anonymous comment, suggestion, question etc. on a piece of paper and turn it in. I remember in health class our teacher had us do this so we could ask the questions that we've always wanted to, without having to be embarrased about asking them. I figured that some students will probably never want to come talk to me face to face, or at least for a couple weeks, but I wanted to get their feedback sooner than later. And boy did I get some priceless responses.
Quiero saber como se dice - quiero salir al recreo I want to know how you say - I want to leave for recess.
Porque el ingles se escribe de una forma y se pronuncia de otra forma? Why is English written in one way but pronunced another? (That, my friend, is the million dollar question!)
No me qusta que me pregunte nada en Ingles, OK?! I don't like you to ask me anything in English, OK?! (Ouch! Well, sorry buddy but this is English class, so I will in fact be asking you questions in English, OK?!)
me caes muy bien, tienes hijos? I like you, do you have children? (When I shared this one with my host grandma, she thought I read it as quieres hijos? - do you WANT children? oh boy!)
Como se dice hamburgesas en Ingles? How do you say hamburgers in English? (I received a bunch of "how do you say" some of the other ones conejo - rabbit, pachanga - big party, tortuga - turtle, Pedro - Peter(?), Victor Fabian Rivera Perla - I have no idea!
Me gusta como usted ensena. I like the way you teach. (awww!)
Usted es una buena maestra. You are a good teacher. (Thanks guys and I haven't even given you homework yet!)
Porque es chelita? Why are you white? (I want to respond with, "ask your mother", but I don't think that really translates...)
Quiero saber porque los americanos hablan tambien el Ingles. I want to know why Americans also speak English. (Not entirely sure how to respond to that...I mean, some Americans only speak English, others speak what can only loosely be considered English, and some speak a downright encyclopedia of languages.)
So all in all I think classes are going well. It's definitely helping me get an "in" with the students which I hope will help me when I start doing my real job of Environmental Education and other projects.
As I leave the school at the end of the day, some of the students call to me, in English, "Goodbye teacher!" I really want to yell back, "goodbye, student!" But then that would suggest that if they were to start using my name, I would have to use theirs too, which is a hopeless task if I ever was given one! But at least they put a smile on my face as I walk home.
So as you might already know I was roped in to being the "substitute" English teacher. The one they had last year found another job. Supposedly the school has another teacher lined up, and they just need me to fill in for a little bit. But that's why I put "substitute" in quotes. I have a feeling this could easily be a many month position. We'll see.
I'm the English teacher for the afternoon crowd. The morning English teacher is still at the school. He has been helping me get my materials together and otherwise get me "orientated" to the whole teaching thang. (They forget that I'm not a teaching professional. I'm a college grad with a degree in Political Economy. Which means I need help! Sure I know English, but anyone who has ever been in a classroom knows that's often not enough!)
So I get to work with the 6th - 9th graders. The 6th graders are young enough that they are pretty much willing to learn anything. The 7th graders have the biggest 'tudes of all the grades, but they are still a high energy group which is good. I want lots of participation and they love competition, so I'm going to use that to my advantage. The 8th graders are great. It's a huge group, 42 students I think, but they are all well behaved, which is amazing! They are also pretty listo (literally "ready" but in this sense also "intelligent", or "quick"). The 9th graders will be an interesting group to work with. School here ends at 9th grade, and you can continue on to Bachillerato if you want. (Bachillerato is either a 2 or 3 year education track, depending on what you choose to concentrate. It's kind of like a vo-tech high school. You can specialize in Auto Mechanics, Nursing, Tourism, Accounting, Business or Generalized studies. If your family has money, after Bachillerato you can go on to a University.) So some of the 9th graders are already in "senioritis" mode while others are ready to get down to business to prepare for Bachillerato. Some are serious about studying English and some just want to make googly eyes at their boyfriend. But what can ya do?
I began all the classes with review - numbers 1-100, days of the week, months of the year, classroom vocab etc. Most of them just began English studies last year, so they are more or less on the same page. At the end of the first class I asked all the students to write an anonymous comment, suggestion, question etc. on a piece of paper and turn it in. I remember in health class our teacher had us do this so we could ask the questions that we've always wanted to, without having to be embarrased about asking them. I figured that some students will probably never want to come talk to me face to face, or at least for a couple weeks, but I wanted to get their feedback sooner than later. And boy did I get some priceless responses.
Quiero saber como se dice - quiero salir al recreo I want to know how you say - I want to leave for recess.
Porque el ingles se escribe de una forma y se pronuncia de otra forma? Why is English written in one way but pronunced another? (That, my friend, is the million dollar question!)
No me qusta que me pregunte nada en Ingles, OK?! I don't like you to ask me anything in English, OK?! (Ouch! Well, sorry buddy but this is English class, so I will in fact be asking you questions in English, OK?!)
me caes muy bien, tienes hijos? I like you, do you have children? (When I shared this one with my host grandma, she thought I read it as quieres hijos? - do you WANT children? oh boy!)
Como se dice hamburgesas en Ingles? How do you say hamburgers in English? (I received a bunch of "how do you say" some of the other ones conejo - rabbit, pachanga - big party, tortuga - turtle, Pedro - Peter(?), Victor Fabian Rivera Perla - I have no idea!
Me gusta como usted ensena. I like the way you teach. (awww!)
Usted es una buena maestra. You are a good teacher. (Thanks guys and I haven't even given you homework yet!)
Porque es chelita? Why are you white? (I want to respond with, "ask your mother", but I don't think that really translates...)
Quiero saber porque los americanos hablan tambien el Ingles. I want to know why Americans also speak English. (Not entirely sure how to respond to that...I mean, some Americans only speak English, others speak what can only loosely be considered English, and some speak a downright encyclopedia of languages.)
So all in all I think classes are going well. It's definitely helping me get an "in" with the students which I hope will help me when I start doing my real job of Environmental Education and other projects.
As I leave the school at the end of the day, some of the students call to me, in English, "Goodbye teacher!" I really want to yell back, "goodbye, student!" But then that would suggest that if they were to start using my name, I would have to use theirs too, which is a hopeless task if I ever was given one! But at least they put a smile on my face as I walk home.
January 3, 2010
would you like to buy this beanie with scripture on it?
Happy New Year! I just got back from Molineros, where I celebrated the New Year with my first host family. The 1st and 2nd of January are also the Fiestas Patronales in Molineros, so New Years is a bigger deal there. I headed out from my site on the morning of the 31st to make it there in time for the evening’s festivities. Bus transportation in this country is always an experience, but not always the simplest, or most direct. Long story short – I can normally make it from my site to Molineros on two buses, but this time I ended up having to take 4.
The bus riding experience here can’t really be compared to anything in the States. Each bus has a driver and a cobrador. The cobradors lean out the front window yelling to people on the side of the road where the bus is going and convincing them, verbally, physically (if he shoves you on his bus, you have to pay right?!) and loudly to get on this bus and not the other one. The cobrador also helps old ladies, or pretty ladies, get on and off the bus, helps with big bags and children and is otherwise helpful. He also walks up and down the aisles collection bus fares. (I say he because every single cobrador, except for one, I have ever had in this country has been a man. I think it’s too dangerous for women.)
So those are the two main characters that come with which ever bus you take. But by no means are those the only characters. At each of the bigger desvio (junction) stops, vendedores (wandering vendors) get on and hawk their wares. So far in this country I have been offered – jicama, tortillas, strawberries, ice cream, hair clips, Gatorade, pistachios, flashlights, candied peanuts, power cords, dried coconut, a full chicken dinner, French fries, a dozen apples, the word of God on cards, posters, CDs, DVDs, books, coloring books, placards, tapestries, bracelets and book marks. I have been told of the benefits of eye drops, foot creams, cleansing teas, weight loss pills and memory enhancers. My future children might benefit from this collection of anatomy, language, geography, mathematics, grammar or history text books. It’s absolutely astounding the variety of things you can buy on a bus. It kind of defeats the purpose of taking the bus to go shopping. Stay on it long enough, and you might just be able to purchase everything you need without leaving your seat!
But I digress. So I made it to Molineros and was immediately thrown into the festivities. We went off to visit Conchita's aunt and then came back to a house full of people ready to make bread. So we made bread until it got dark, then went back to the aunt’s house and chatted more. We got back to the house at about 11:30 and from there the fireworks really got going. They had been going off all day, but as midnight approaches, more and more begin going off. I lit a couple but mostly let the children risk losing a limb…
The next day, the 1st, family and friends from San Sal showed up in droves and by noon the house was absolutely full of people. The day was spent chatting, making tamales, being serenaded by a wandering band and watching the mini-parade. In the evening was the mass to celebrate their Patron Saint, Dulce nombre de Jesus (the sweet name of Jesus). After the mass was the lighting of the fireworks that covered the tower that bared the image of the Patron Saint. After the fireworks was a dance. I ended up going and dancing until about 2:30 am.
The next day, the 2nd, I spent the morning just enjoying my time in Molineros before heading back to my site. Conchita made fresh bread and pulled it out of the oven, wrapped it up and put it in my backpack right as I was running to catch the bus. I also had tamales, so the whole way back to my site, I think I might have slightly bugged my bus companions with the smells coming from my bag. But hey, at least they were good smells and when I got back to my site, the bread was still warm!
The bus riding experience here can’t really be compared to anything in the States. Each bus has a driver and a cobrador. The cobradors lean out the front window yelling to people on the side of the road where the bus is going and convincing them, verbally, physically (if he shoves you on his bus, you have to pay right?!) and loudly to get on this bus and not the other one. The cobrador also helps old ladies, or pretty ladies, get on and off the bus, helps with big bags and children and is otherwise helpful. He also walks up and down the aisles collection bus fares. (I say he because every single cobrador, except for one, I have ever had in this country has been a man. I think it’s too dangerous for women.)
So those are the two main characters that come with which ever bus you take. But by no means are those the only characters. At each of the bigger desvio (junction) stops, vendedores (wandering vendors) get on and hawk their wares. So far in this country I have been offered – jicama, tortillas, strawberries, ice cream, hair clips, Gatorade, pistachios, flashlights, candied peanuts, power cords, dried coconut, a full chicken dinner, French fries, a dozen apples, the word of God on cards, posters, CDs, DVDs, books, coloring books, placards, tapestries, bracelets and book marks. I have been told of the benefits of eye drops, foot creams, cleansing teas, weight loss pills and memory enhancers. My future children might benefit from this collection of anatomy, language, geography, mathematics, grammar or history text books. It’s absolutely astounding the variety of things you can buy on a bus. It kind of defeats the purpose of taking the bus to go shopping. Stay on it long enough, and you might just be able to purchase everything you need without leaving your seat!
But I digress. So I made it to Molineros and was immediately thrown into the festivities. We went off to visit Conchita's aunt and then came back to a house full of people ready to make bread. So we made bread until it got dark, then went back to the aunt’s house and chatted more. We got back to the house at about 11:30 and from there the fireworks really got going. They had been going off all day, but as midnight approaches, more and more begin going off. I lit a couple but mostly let the children risk losing a limb…
The next day, the 1st, family and friends from San Sal showed up in droves and by noon the house was absolutely full of people. The day was spent chatting, making tamales, being serenaded by a wandering band and watching the mini-parade. In the evening was the mass to celebrate their Patron Saint, Dulce nombre de Jesus (the sweet name of Jesus). After the mass was the lighting of the fireworks that covered the tower that bared the image of the Patron Saint. After the fireworks was a dance. I ended up going and dancing until about 2:30 am.
The next day, the 2nd, I spent the morning just enjoying my time in Molineros before heading back to my site. Conchita made fresh bread and pulled it out of the oven, wrapped it up and put it in my backpack right as I was running to catch the bus. I also had tamales, so the whole way back to my site, I think I might have slightly bugged my bus companions with the smells coming from my bag. But hey, at least they were good smells and when I got back to my site, the bread was still warm!
December 11, 2009
man's best friend
I thought fetch was a universal game. I assumed that when ever a little boy or girl gets a puppy, they play fetch together. And while I didn't make an ass out of myself as the saying goes, I was wrong for assuming. My host family has two dogs, one spunky puppy, Canelo (Cinnamon) and one calmer mother, Negra (Blacky). Negra just had 5 puppies and they are doing well. I am planning on llevar-ing uno (taking one) to my new house when I move in. One, for the company, and two, to be an example of adequate pet care. Some families are definitely better than others, but very few people treat their dogs as pets. Many treat them as nothing more than an intruder alarm system that every once and a while needs food. I think that's why fetch was not in the repertoire of Canelo or my host brother David. So I taught them both.
We started with the all important stick. I picked one that wasn't too big but had a good weight to it so it would really fly when you threw it. Then we had to get Canelo interested in the stick. That involved just letting him sniff it, then I threw it, and ran after it as if I wanted it more than he did. Eventually he understood that the point of the game was to get the stick before I did and soon he was going for it on his own. Every once and a while he got distracted and forgot about the game, or chased after the stick, sniffed it, and came bounding back without it. But all in all he understood and appreciated the game. (If you'll allow me to project human emotions on an animal, as well as allow me the ability to read them!)
My host family was stupified that such activities could be done with a dog. They loved it. I also took the opportunity to explain to them that some of the "behavior" issues they don't like in Canelo - that he jumps up on them and tries to grab invisible food from their hands - come from the fact that he has too much energy. Not too mention that he is still a puppy, receives no love and attention, and barely receives enough food, but those are issues that are entirely too big for me to handle all at once. So I mentioned that if you exercise your dog, he will be tired, and will be less likely to jump or nip at your hand. They loved the idea and all of a sudden I found myself the official "Dog Whisperer" of Canelo. They want me to train him and exercise him and all that jazz. It's completely my own fault, and I don't mind, but as I worked with Canelo and David on the "sit" command, I remembered the invaluable words of Cesar Millan, the true Dog Whisperer. "Dog training is more about training the human than training the dog." And boy is it true.
Canelo was really quick to learn the sit command. But, he became confused when David said it a different way, or added other commands or gave harsh words as punishment for some innocuous thing as opposed to a treat for the more important "sitting" that was going on. So I had to teach David as much, or more, than I was teaching Canelo. How to properly react when Canelo jumps on him, or why he's nipping at David's hand because he thinks he has food or he just wants to play etc. etc. And then I realized that I could do well with some of my own training.
It seems that every other day or so, I'm presented with some new cultural quirk that nips at my better sense and pushes my buttons. I know that cultural differences are just that, constructs of culture, and there's nothing wrong with anyone's culture, it's just different. But I think we all can identify in ourselves things that we could do better, so I think it's only natural, and okay, to identify things here that could be done better. (Also, it's part of my job to change the mindsets of people in terms of Environmental Management.) Now, I'm not going around on my soap box telling people that I think some of the things they do are... different - leaving a fan on is considered wasting energy, but leaving a T.V. on is not; dogs are neglected, and then people wonder why they have vicious dogs all over the place; plastic trash is burned left and right while respiratory problems are the number one health issue of Salvadorans; and cutting a sapling down because you don't like where it's growing, instead of transplanting it.
But, if I want to have an effect on any of these things, first I need to train myself. I need to be aware of how I feel and control my reactions. I need to check in with myself and make sure that I'm not assuming anything. That I tread lightly, but confidently when it comes to changing mindsets. Nothing comes quickly, and I most gain people's confidence before I can even begin to show other ways of doing things. And even then, it doesn't mean a change will occur, but it will mean a broadening of horizons. An understanding on their part that there is more than one way to skin a cat. But first I must understand and accept the same.
It's tough, but that's why they call it culture shock. It's the incredible differences that you are confronted with, the actions and habits that seem so counterproductive to you, but everyday normal to someone else. I know that in the end my integration in, understanding of and acceptance of (and from) my community is crucial to my future success. So right now I'm adapting. I'm teaching myself first how to handle my emotions and reactions when I'm confronted with these differences. And often it's tough. I want to yell out "why are you doing that!?" "who taught you that that's the best way to do that?!" But that, of course, wouldn't help anyone. So I reflect in my journal, and I share with you all the mini-frustrations. They are, however, just that - mini-frustrations. And they are always overshadowed by the joys of each day. But that doesn't mean they aren't there. Nipping at my heels like the over-energetic Canelo.
We started with the all important stick. I picked one that wasn't too big but had a good weight to it so it would really fly when you threw it. Then we had to get Canelo interested in the stick. That involved just letting him sniff it, then I threw it, and ran after it as if I wanted it more than he did. Eventually he understood that the point of the game was to get the stick before I did and soon he was going for it on his own. Every once and a while he got distracted and forgot about the game, or chased after the stick, sniffed it, and came bounding back without it. But all in all he understood and appreciated the game. (If you'll allow me to project human emotions on an animal, as well as allow me the ability to read them!)
My host family was stupified that such activities could be done with a dog. They loved it. I also took the opportunity to explain to them that some of the "behavior" issues they don't like in Canelo - that he jumps up on them and tries to grab invisible food from their hands - come from the fact that he has too much energy. Not too mention that he is still a puppy, receives no love and attention, and barely receives enough food, but those are issues that are entirely too big for me to handle all at once. So I mentioned that if you exercise your dog, he will be tired, and will be less likely to jump or nip at your hand. They loved the idea and all of a sudden I found myself the official "Dog Whisperer" of Canelo. They want me to train him and exercise him and all that jazz. It's completely my own fault, and I don't mind, but as I worked with Canelo and David on the "sit" command, I remembered the invaluable words of Cesar Millan, the true Dog Whisperer. "Dog training is more about training the human than training the dog." And boy is it true.
Canelo was really quick to learn the sit command. But, he became confused when David said it a different way, or added other commands or gave harsh words as punishment for some innocuous thing as opposed to a treat for the more important "sitting" that was going on. So I had to teach David as much, or more, than I was teaching Canelo. How to properly react when Canelo jumps on him, or why he's nipping at David's hand because he thinks he has food or he just wants to play etc. etc. And then I realized that I could do well with some of my own training.
It seems that every other day or so, I'm presented with some new cultural quirk that nips at my better sense and pushes my buttons. I know that cultural differences are just that, constructs of culture, and there's nothing wrong with anyone's culture, it's just different. But I think we all can identify in ourselves things that we could do better, so I think it's only natural, and okay, to identify things here that could be done better. (Also, it's part of my job to change the mindsets of people in terms of Environmental Management.) Now, I'm not going around on my soap box telling people that I think some of the things they do are... different - leaving a fan on is considered wasting energy, but leaving a T.V. on is not; dogs are neglected, and then people wonder why they have vicious dogs all over the place; plastic trash is burned left and right while respiratory problems are the number one health issue of Salvadorans; and cutting a sapling down because you don't like where it's growing, instead of transplanting it.
But, if I want to have an effect on any of these things, first I need to train myself. I need to be aware of how I feel and control my reactions. I need to check in with myself and make sure that I'm not assuming anything. That I tread lightly, but confidently when it comes to changing mindsets. Nothing comes quickly, and I most gain people's confidence before I can even begin to show other ways of doing things. And even then, it doesn't mean a change will occur, but it will mean a broadening of horizons. An understanding on their part that there is more than one way to skin a cat. But first I must understand and accept the same.
It's tough, but that's why they call it culture shock. It's the incredible differences that you are confronted with, the actions and habits that seem so counterproductive to you, but everyday normal to someone else. I know that in the end my integration in, understanding of and acceptance of (and from) my community is crucial to my future success. So right now I'm adapting. I'm teaching myself first how to handle my emotions and reactions when I'm confronted with these differences. And often it's tough. I want to yell out "why are you doing that!?" "who taught you that that's the best way to do that?!" But that, of course, wouldn't help anyone. So I reflect in my journal, and I share with you all the mini-frustrations. They are, however, just that - mini-frustrations. And they are always overshadowed by the joys of each day. But that doesn't mean they aren't there. Nipping at my heels like the over-energetic Canelo.
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