Visa Run: Belize to Mexico

In Central America, things often do not turn out as planned. This was certainly the case on my recent trip to Belize…

I had initially planned an outing of a few days in order to renew my Salvadoran tourist visa. I chose the country of Belize because I was pretty sure I wouldn´t get a chance to travel there in the future, and also because I had never been to the Caribbean before. I was happily envisioning taking off an extra day for warm tropical waters and sunny beaches, but I didn’t count on the weather. It had been raining for a few days when I set out from San Salvador, but I didn’t quite realize the magnitude of the rainstorms from so far south. By the time I made it to the Guatemala-Belize border, a river, the water level had risen incredibly. Apparently, the bridge had cracked under pressure and they weren’t allowing any vehicles through. Everyone on my bus was told to get off, walk across the bridge, go through immigration and then wait (2 hours!) for another bus to pick us up.


On the road to Belize City we saw more flood evidence – our bus crossed dangerously through some rather large streams, and we passed by some buildings that were rapidly being consumed by water. But the clouds seemed to be clearing up slightly, and I arrived in the city to welcome sunshine. I walked around for a little while and realized that I had left behind the Central America I was used to. The most obvious change is the use of English, but it was still a foreign-sounding English to me, a mixture of Creole and Jamaican-style pronunciation that I found hard to understand at first. Unlike El Salvador, Belize has both a large black population and a large indigenous Mayan population, which makes for a diverse cultural mix. Belize City itself is not that impressive. The coastal city is pretty small in size with run-down buildings, unpaved streets and a reputation of being dangerous at night. I decided not to wait for that time period and took the touristy option – I caught a boat to nearby island Caye Caulker.

Home to the second largest barrier reef in the world, it is easy to see why so many tourists visit the Cayes - a string of islands east of the Belizean coast – to go snorkelling, diving, kite-boarding and numerous other ocean-related activities. When the night rains let up in the morning, I was greeted with a tropical island paradise: crystal-clear turquoise waters, white sand and palm trees. The view was right out of a travel magazine. [Trivia: Nearby Ambergis Caye is the subject of the Madonna song “La Isla Bonita”.]


I booked an all-day snorkelling trip and found myself on a sailboat with a few other tourists, heading out to the reef. We made several stops to snorkel in the Hol Chan Channel, the Shark-Ray Alley and the Coral Garden. The water was so warm that we didn’t even notice when it started pouring rain again until we were shivering back on the boat. Our dread-locked guides were knowledgeable and lots of fun. They threw bait into the water to attract Nurse Sharks right up to the boat, they fed us ceviche and rum punch, and they pointed out different fish species as we followed them through the corals. I saw yellow Sergeant Major fish, Groupers, Spotted Eagle Rays, Moray Eels and Sea Turtles, among others. By far my favourite and luckiest sight though, was a view of a fascinating marine creature: a Manatee. Long thought to have given rise to the myth of mermaids, these gentle animals are now on the verge of extinction worldwide. Belize is home to a relatively large population of manatees, now protected in designated wildlife reserves. I want to try to describe what I saw but I don’t have anything to compare it to. The most noticeable thing was the tail – thick and fish-like, yet the creature was distinctly mammalian. [Trivia: Manatees’ closest relatives are elephants and hyraxes – yes, the little guys that live in our backyard in Namibia!] Manatees graze on sea grass, a fact that probably gave rise to their nickname “Sea Cow”. At night they sleep underwater, unconsciously rising to the surface once every thirty minutes to breathe. In order to learn to survive, young manatees must live with their mothers until the age of 5, one of the reasons why they are so vulnerable as a species. Also, their only natural defence mechanism is to swim away, which is exactly what the manatee did next. One of the guides later told me that the trick to swimming with manatees is to never swim directly towards them. Instead, you have to turn your back and pretend to do something else. The manatees get curious and approach for a look!


The next day, I returned to Belize City and more water. As happens normally on the Carribbean coast once every hurricane season, the whole region flooded on account of the seemingly endless tropical storms. I was told that the Guatemalan border was completely closed due to high water levels, blocking my return route to El Salvador. I was left with no choice but to head north, travel by bus overland through Mexico, circling around all of northern Guatemala, in order to reach a dryer border post. All the way to the Mexican border I witnessed the destructive force of flowing water. It was scary. My bus passed by houses flooded up to the second floor, people swimming in their driveways looking for belongings, and on both sides of the road, a seemingly endless stretch of giant puddle. I was so distracted, it didn’t occur to me to take many pictures.


Finally I crossed the border and arrived in Chetumal, Mexico. Now I knew I had really left Central America. I saw strip malls, clean and well-paved roads, and fancy cars. All the tourism to the beaches of Cancún and other parts of the Yucatan Peninsula has brought much infrastructure, luxury resorts and Western shopping habits to the area.
In all the watery excitement I hadn’t had a chance to plan the next step of my travels. Luckily, my handy Lonely Planet Guidebook directed me to take an overnight bus to Palenque: time to take advantage of my new travel route and see some sites along the way.


I had heard a lot about the beauty of the Palenque Mayan Ruins, but I don't think I was prepared for the element of surrounding beauty. The main plaza is a large open clearing from where the trail leads up a hill to an overlooking temple, down a bend past cheerful waterfalls and winds through multiple smaller ruins rising up out of the jungle. I loved the main palace – a maze of corridors, courtyards, arches and creepy steps that vanished into the darkness of underground chambers. This building and a few others were completely open for visitors to scramble around and explore all of the nooks and crannies. I loved wandering through the trees with the sound of rushing water nearby and imagining what the buildings used to look like. The architecture is almost completely intact on many of the larger buildings though many of the carvings and sculptures seemed to be fading.


At the nearby museum, I found out about the biggest finding at Palenque: an emperor's tomb that was buried at the centre of a temple built specifically to house it. The tomb was really big, it filled up most of a large room and was decorated with inscriptions along all of its faces. A short movie described how archaeologists excavated the tomb – it took 24 hours to lift it from deep inside the temple using a winch. Inside the tomb was the body along with incredible treasures – face-masks of jade, jewelry, and small sculptures. Buried treasure!


My last stop before re-entering Guatemala also took longer than planned. I arrived in San Cristobal de las Casas in the evening. The city is up in the mountains and I found myself shivering in my raincoat, which was the warmest thing I had brought in anticipation of Belize weather. The city has wide streets and colonial architecture that are beautifully lit at night. I found a very cheap hostel nearby the main square. The area was quite touristy but that didn't seem to distract from how nice the city is. I found trendy restaurants, internet cafes everywhere, tourist agencies offering multiple adventure options, bars playing live music every night and incredibly sculpted churches. San Cristobal is also known for the famous Zapatista Revolt, where a leftist pro-indigenous (mayan) rights revolutionary force took over the city in protest of Mexico signing the North American Free Trade Agreement in 1994. The only evidence of this past that I saw however were people selling Zapatista t-shirts, postcards and dolls, and lots of political graffiti.


It was also during my first night that I realized that I was supposed to pay my “foreigner-fee” not at the border when I left Mexico, but at a bank. Conveniently, the banks opened later than when the bus I needed left for Guatemala. Given an extra day in an exciting place like San Cristobal, I wandered around quite a bit. I went to a fascinating museum about traditional Mayan medicine that focused on the mix of Christianity, herbal remedies and Mayan spirituality that are central to Mayan traditional healing as practiced in San Cristobal. In the late afternoon I walked up to one of the many colorful churches, this one on a hill overlooking the city to watch the sun set over the mountains.


All in all it turned out to be a great trip, even (maybe especially) with all of the delays and travel crazyness. I certainly spent a lot of time on buses hoping that it would stop raining. It took me a full day to get back to Antigua, Guatemala, and another to get back to El Salvador, which meant that I ultimately missed a whole week of work. It sounds like a lot of time, but then again, it's not that long in Salvadoran time. Also, I recommend organic Mexican coffee as a gift for coworkers and housemates.

Work Update (PART 2)

As often happens when I´m at the office, I arrive, I get focused, I start computer work… and then I get distracted.  My coworkers stop by my desk to talk, visitors are always walking in and out, or I visit my counterpart´s office and we end up having long crazy conversations.  This might sound highly unproductive to the average Westerner, and it certainly felt that way to me at first.  But once I settled into the laid-back rhythm, I realized that I very much enjoy the extra interactive personal time that is an essential part of Salvadoran work culture. Don´t get me wrong, I definitely get my work done, but at my office, there is always time for another coffee break.

The second big project with which I am involved focuses on many aspects of sustainable agriculture. I and my coworkers give technical trainings on organic alternatives to the purchase and use of chemical fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides, as well as discussions about community organization. We meet with community leaders, who then pass on the trainings to members of their communities. The over-arching goal is to achieve food security in the area.

 At the moment we are teaching about different ways to fertilize soil organically.  One technique, that we put to use at our demonstrative corn fields, is the addition of gallinaza, chicken droppings, to the soil. I have also been researching and writing a manual about composting techniques, and will be giving a training on that topic in the future.  Hopefully we will be able to construct some compost piles soon.  We have also been giving trainings about Legumes. 

Legumes are the family of pod-producing plants that include beans, peanuts, and lentils. In the world of organic agriculture, they are known for their ability to add Nitrogen to their soil environment, an essential nutrient for all plants.  At the moment we are trying to integrate the use of Jack-bean or "Canavalia" into local agricultural methods.  Though we had read that Canavalia is able to fix about 65 lbs of Nitrogen into an acre of cornfield, we still had no idea how many plants we would need for that acre, nor did we know how long this process would take.  

One day, after discussing this lack of knowledge with my counterpart at work, I found myself attending to the tiny garden at the back of our office.  Some coworkers had tried to grow corn there, but only a few scraggly plants persisted in the poor soil, along with a scraggly lemon tree.  As an experiment, we planted 10 Canavalia seeds around the lemon tree.  We intend to observe any changes in lemon quality and overall tree health as a way to measure the effects and timing of the use of Canavalia.  And after the planting, we collected lemons together, took them to the office kitchen, and made lemonade.  

 This story really demonstrates my office atmosphere – we can take the time to plan and execute a little science experiment and afterwards take a pre-lunch break to make lemonade.   It also reminds me of so many things that I´ve enjoyed about working in the agricultural field:

1. the hands-on work is just as important as the computer work, and way more fun
2. farmer innovation is amazing
3. agriculture facilitates crucial cross-cultural bonding, especially when
4. there is always food involved

 

Work Update (PART 1)

Every day at my work brings something new. Some days I´m at the office and other days I´m visiting our community groups. At the moment I am involved with two projects. The first revolves around breeding corn, while the second is focused on various aspects of organic agriculture.

The goal of our corn project is to cultivate and breed varieties of maíz criollo, or “creole” corn, in order to decrease dependency on commercially produced hybrid corn and the chemical fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides that come with it. Maíz criollo really just means the local varieties of corn that have been domesticated and selectively-bred to suit human needs for thousands of years in Mesoamerica. Yes, corn is a completely domesticated plant; at this point in its evolution it is dependent on humans for survival.

In El Salvador, corn gets planted in the month of June to take advantage of the rainy season. It grows to around 8 feet tall, reproduces through wind pollination, and develops a corn cob containing the seeds (grains) which are harvested in November for consumption. You can make many dishes out of the different varieties of corn (for example popcorn versus sweet corn) and out of the different stages of corn growth. In August it is elote season, when the grains reach the ripeness necessary for corn on the cob and atol, a thick corn drink served sweetened and very hot.

What this means in terms of creole corn breeding is that we have to plan ahead a bit. At certain points in the agricultural cycle we choose plants, then cobs and then seeds that show favourable characteristics. These include greater harvest yield, favourable plant size, demonstrated plant health, and so forth – the good traits that we want the next generation of corn plants to have. We store the final selection of seeds for planting next year.

The organization that I work for supports 4 different community groups with technical training and raw materials to be put to use in collectively farmed plots of land. The idea is that at each of the fields we use only organic agricultural techniques (no chemicals!) to cultivate the corn, and thus demonstrate the possibilities and benefits of this kind of agriculture. My job involves a bit of everything: providing technical support in the field, recording the whole process digitally (photos and field notebook), and writing 2 manuals on corn breeding techniques. One is specifically geared for use by an agronomist and the other for use by a farmer. I really love the hands-on aspect of agricultural work, and the fact that I learn something new every day. My coworkers are extremely knowledgeable and a lot of fun. Right now we are waiting for the grains to finish drying and maturing so that they can be harvested very soon.

Copán: Mayan Ruins Trip

It is often said that if Tikal were the New York City of the Mayan world, then Copán would be Paris. The ruins of the ancient Mayan city of Copán, located in Western Honduras and conveniently within a day´s journey of San Salvador, are not huge in size. Known for intricately carved sculptures, heiroglyphics, and awe-inspiring `stelae´ or prism-shaped statues with designs on all faces, the ruins boast some magnificent works of art. I saw some impressive temples, altars and even a ball court where mayans used to play a sport a little bit like basketball without hands (note that the losers of the game were sacrificed in front of the temples on the altars.) Also worthy of mention is the Temple of Rosalila - a temple so holy that it was buried intact when the residents decided to demolish previous Copán buildings to provide the foundation for newer ones. Today, underground tunnels lead to the very well-preserved temple.


This statue, now safely kept in the museum outside the actual ruins, is a great example of the impressive art found at Copán. Apparently it is thought to be one of the best-sculpted pieces ever found at a Mayan ruin.


And here is an example of a stela - it is carved on all sides including the top but my camera could only capture one of them. Try to zoom in to see details... though not sure if that´s possible on this blog. hmm...


The famous Heiroglyphic Stairway -- every brick of every step is a heiroglyph, the whole stairway details the history of the building and is the longest single inscription ever found from the ancient new world. This stairway was also revolutionary in the archaeological world. Along with other Copán findings, it helped to prove that many Mayan heiroglyphics were historical in nature and dealt with events that actually occured. Up until that point, it was believed that heiroglyphics described gods and religious stories, and that the Mayans were lead by a priestly caste. In fact, inscriptions are now understood to detail historical facts of the Copán dynasty including exact dates of ascensions to the throne, decisions made my emperors and chronicles of wars waged by the Mayan royalty, all according to their own calendar, which is more accurate than the Gregorian Calendar used today.


A window into the underworld? It sure was a great view to the next mountain chain. Note the skulls underfoot!


Lastly, I include a fun picture of myself. I visited a bird sanctuary which had an interactive area where I got to hold parrots! This was separate from the ruins, but also near the town where I was staying. (You would never guess that I like birds...)

A Letter

It is hard to believe, but I am almost half-way through my time as a fellow here in El Salvador. Next week is our midpoint retreat, an event geared to give us some time to share and reflect on our experiences as fellows and also providing us the opportunity for some professional development. We have an outside speaker coming to teach us the basics of grant writing and project evaluation, and another speaker who will give a talk on the world food crisis with a focus on the Central American context. I helped to plan the midpoint retreat along with 3 of the other fellows and our field and progam officers, so as you can imagine, I´m super excited.

In the same vein of reflection and sharing of advice, I have decided to post my recent monthly report. Usually the report is a series of questions (different every month) about what I accomplished in the past month, what challenges I faced, how I overcame them and any good stories. I often paste my blog entries into the reports, but this time it is the other way around. This month´s report was actually a letter-writing exercise:

The letter will serve to inform future fellows and volunteers of the practical arrangements they should make prior to their departure as well as provide them with a snapshot of your experience in Central America.

I went over the 500 word limit, but I think I got everything down. I´ve been thinking a lot about the point of this fellowship lately, and I´ve come to the opinion that the interactions I have will matter much more than whatever concrete work I get done here. Initially, the thought of not getting work done seemed scary to my competitive and over-achieving Western mentality, but now I find the laid-back hang-out lifestyle quite refreshing. I have to enjoy it while I´ve got it! Then again, who knows how I may feel 5 months from now.

It has also occured to me that this letter, though honest, doesn´t go into much detail about what an awesome time I´m having. As all of you dedicated readers out there will know, I am indeed having a great time. However, as in any living / working situation, there are always ups and downs, and frustrations occur especially easily when faced with the unfamiliar. In this letter, I suggest things for which the future fellow should be prepared...


Dear future fellow,

You are about to embark on an epic journey. It is an experience that will be at times rewarding, at times challenging, confusing, heart breaking and probably even highly interesting. Of course, I am very qualified to give you advice for your trip because I am a current World Partners Fellow who knows all. By way of introduction, my name is Elsita Kiekebusch and I am placed in El Salvador. Don’t bother wondering where I got such a strange name, just know that I am a US citizen and a person of Latin American heritage. My job description at my NGO placement is surprisingly well-defined (don’t expect this.) I am involved in sustainable agriculture projects where I research and then give advice on corn cultivation and usage of natural fertilizers. I live in the capital, San Salvador, where I have access to many of the luxuries of life such as grocery stores and internet (don’t expect these either.)

As I was saying, your journey will be a multi-faceted moment of your life. It will pass by more quickly than you can imagine and you will learn something new everyday. There are several things that you can do to make your experience a happier and more comfortable learning process. I am a major proponent of traveling light – for the fellowship, for side trips and for going to work. Carrying lots of things around attracts attention. Of course, if you have white skin, you will attract attention, so even more reason to invest in a small bag for the day to day, rather than a large touristy backpack. Regarding clothing – pack tropical. Bring a raincoat and clothes that will facilitate heat leaving your body. For work, I usually dress casual to semi-professional. I haven’t worn my suit jacket once, though the pants come in handy. I attempt to blend in by dressing like those around me, and if I don’t say anything people often think I´m Salvadoran. This is particularly useful in avoidance of the male cat-call reserved for foreign women. If this happens to you it is likely to provoke feelings of discomfort. Just ignore and walk away.

Working in Central America has been a pretty laid-back experience by western standards. On the one hand I dont have to worry about things like deadlines very often, but the lack of efficiency can get frustrating. So don’t expect to save the world... or even to produce very much. In terms of this fellowship, production is overrated. In my opinion, the best use of your time will be spending it with your coworkers and friends, learning from their experiences and your own. Contribute to your NGO in the best way you can but don’t worry too much if things are moving slowly. Social change is a process, a miniscule step of which you may achieve during your few months of service.

That said, I wish you the very best for your journey. My single biggest piece of advice for you is to take those expectations, hold them tightly in your hand and then throw them out the window.

Have fun, be safe and enjoy,

Elsita

¡¡¡¡Arriba con la Selección!!!!

A few days ago it was my birthday, and to celebrate the day I suggested going to an upcoming soccer game at Estadio Cuscatlan in San Salvador – the biggest soccer stadium in Central America and home to ``la Selección´´, El Salvador´s national team. The game turned out to be so incredible that I decided that a blow by blow was in order.
The game was a World Cup qualifying match – underdog El Salvador playing against Panama, to whom they had lost 1-0 in Panama the week before. We knew that in order to advance to the next round, not only did El Sal have to win, but they had to win with a total number of points overall for both games. Clearly they had a minimal chance, but we weren’t going just for the soccer – it was all about the cultural experience. Everyone and their father were at the game. It was packed, with what seemed like a ratio of 20 guys to 1 girl! Latin American soccer games are crazy, as I have experienced before in Ecuador. El Sal was no different - everybody there was wearing blue or white (Salvadoran colors) and waving flags, signs, showing off painted faces, throwing paper and water balloons onto the field and at Panama fans. We quickly learned Salvadoran cheers as well as swear words and homophobic slurs to yell at the referees and Panama players. We had decided to pay for more expensive tickets to avoid seats in the really rowdy areas – everyone warned beforehand about drunken men throwing cups of urine and pulling peoples´ clothing off and a general reign of chaos. Along with me were my roommates, and a random group of friends – going in a big group was a great choice. We found ourselves a place high up and in the shade to watch the sideshow.
The beginning of the game was mediocre, neither side playing well and Panama scoring very early on. About 30 minutes into the game it started to rain, and by rain I mean it POURED. The water fell so hard that everyone started crowding upwards to the roofed areas (we stayed dry!) or huddled miserably in the non-roofed areas. Despite this, the game continued but things were looking very bad for El Salvador. When the rain finally lets up, the puddles make play difficult. By halftime, the crowd is looking depressed. In the second half El Salvador comes back with some offensive energy, but Panama holds onto the lead for the first 3/4 of total game time. Then, with about 20 minutes left to go El Salvador scores the equilizer on a free kick. The crowd goes wild. Absolutely wild. Everyone is singing and screaming and dancing and cheering and yelling and banging on drums. The speakers start blasting the most famous Salvadoran soccer song ``Arriba con la Selección´´ and everyone joins in. The game is getting increasingly more heated, with El Salvador keeping the ball on Panama's side of the field and repeatedly taking shots. Soon enough, a close bout erupts near the Panamanian goal that ends with players on the ground injured. The referee awards a red card to Panama and a penalty to El Sal. At this point the crowd's mind is collectively being blown. Our ears are ringing with the noise of everyone yelling ''SI SE PUEDE'' (yes, you can) over and over. No silence can be heard as the player shoots... and scores. Now everyone is just going ballistic - with confetti in the air, blue smoke rising in the distance and the Panama supporters getting bombarded with water balloons (adding insult to the injury of getting soaked in the rain). El Salvador, against all odds, is now ahead and the energy is pulsating all around us. Everyone is standing up and yelling with everything they have... and then... with only 5 minutes left to go, the crowd gasps at a long curving beautiful shot... El Salvador scores their third goal and advances to glory, clinching a placement in the next round. When the game ends moments later, it's like a group orgasm. By this time, my head is pounding and my voice is hoarse from screaming, Denis has taken his shirt off and is waving it in the air happily, Chloe is videotaping everyone, people are hugging left and right, and suddenly the speakers start playing ''we are the champions''. Watching a team turn a game around and win is definitely one of the most amazing things to see in any sports match. The moment is EPIC!

Click for more info on the game and its repercussions!

Natural Disasters

There's one thing that I still cant get my mind around - the regular occurrence of natural disasters here in Central America. They seem to have it all: earthquakes, volcanos, hurricanes...
I've learned about how the formation of the Central American isthmus was prompted by tectonic plate movements, volcanic activity and accompanying large-scale lava emissions. According to my current nerdy science book, Anthony G. Coates' (Ed) Central America: a Natural and Cultural History, ''the formation of the Central American Isthmus was the pivotal event in the past 10 million years of earth history." I think my mind was blown while trying to comprehend the long-term effects of the closure of the isthmus - the separation of two oceans and connection of two land masses, thus dictating the course of american evolution. The two oceans evolved completely differently - paving the way for the reefs and mangroves of the enclosed Caribbean, whereas the Pacific coast demonstrates a completely different life cycle dependent on plankton and cold ocean currents that lift nutrients from the ocean floor. Evolution was also irreversibly altered when North and South America were connected, causing the ''Great American Interchange'' where terrestrial organisms migrated in both directions across the newly formed land bridge. Ultimately, North American flora and fauna caused the extinction of many of their South American counterparts.
But despite all of the scientific explanations of the evolutionary and geological upheaval that went on here, and that still goes on to this day, somehow, I still cant fathom the natural disasters. Recently we experienced our very first ''torrmenton'' of the hurricane season. Tropical Storm Alma, began somewhere near Nicaragua and advanced North West over the course of a few days, covering practically every Central American country. Tropical storms aren't quite as aggressive as hurricanes but they are known to cause dangerous flash-floods and mudslides. Luckily, El Salvador wasn't straight in the line of storm-fire, meaning, plenty of rain for a few days but not much more than that. Soon it weakened to the level of ''Tropical Depression.'' Nevertheless, it made me contemplate the day to day mindset - it feels as though at any moment a volcano could errupt or an earthquake could occur... with destructive consequences. My (false?) sense of control over my life has been roughed up a bit with the knowledge that a disaster could be around the next corner.

Mom's Visit

I am certainly the luckiest daughter out there: my mother came to visit me in El Salvador all the way from Namibia. It was a great couple of days with her - I showed off my house (she got to sleep in my tiny room), my work (we did a site visit in Ahuachapan, later visited my office, and my coworkers took her out for breakfast), and San Salvador (we had a tourist day of museums, cafes and Friday night synagogue services.)




Over the weekend, we headed to the gorgeous region of Santa Ana where we stayed in Santa Ana (the city) at a great little backpackers hostel. We explored the downtown area with its huge church and national theater - buildings with cool colonial architecture. We then made an outing to Lake Coatepeque - a beautiful crater lake with volcanoes rising up over it and lush green foliage all around. We swam and ate good food and read our books and relaxed.




On our second day in Santa Ana, we made another outing - this time to gorgeous national park Cerro Verde, named after the ancient volcano at the center of the park. After climbing high up by bus, we eventually found ourselves on top of Cerro Verde, next to neighboring giant volcano Ilamatepec, and overlooking smaller active volcano Izalco. The view was incredible - we could see all the way to the ocean.

Mom's visit was a wonderful gift. We had a great time together, and it was so exciting to have the opportunity to show her my life here in El Salvador. I'll never forget this trip.
(Contact me for more details on my mom's visit. She wrote up the visit and sent it out via her email list, the text of which I would be happy to pass along.)

Blasphemy!

In order to further promote globalization, I decided to take trial-and-error tortilla making to the next level. The truth is, nobody but Americans like peanut butter. The average El Salvadoran would probably be highly disappointed with the turn my food quest has taken, but I prefer to think of my meal as a sensual and cross-cultural experience.


Above, I present you with this artistic interpretation of myself and my work. Kip, my AJWS Field Officer, made this picture of me after our one hour long discussion about my work plan. The original picture (I assure you) was not taken in El Salvador and I have yet to see a big red barn by the side of the road. Nevertheless, thanks for this one Kip - it is mindblowing!!!!!

Work, Food, Life... CORN!

Corn, or ``Maíz´´, as it is called in Spanish, is the staple food of El Salvador. It is also the staple food of the rest of Latin America, many parts of Africa and some parts of Asia. In fact, during the course of my time here in Central America, the presence of corn has been almost overwhelming in my day to day life (in a good way). As I may have mentioned before, my work placement is with a Salvadoran non-governmental organization in the field of sustainable agriculture and food security. From what I can tell, my work here basically involves becoming a corn farmer.

At the moment, in the rural communities with which my organization works, farmers buy hybrid corn seed to plant every year. Hybrid corn is nice because it is bred to give high yields, resistance to diseases and other desirable characteristics. Due to a biological phenomenon known as hybrid vigour, the crossing of two inbred corn lines results in the first hybrid generation showing the best of the parents´ most desirable characteristics. Breeders manipulate the pollination process of inbred lines in order to achieve this. However, in the second generation, mediocre characteristics of the grandparent corn resurface, so yield and disease resistance decrease. What this means is that seeds collected and replanted by farmers for the next year do not become particularly productive plants, so the farmers inevitably become dependent on purchasing the seed every agricultural cycle. In addition to this, they also must purchase fertilizers, insecticides and herbicides that go along with the hybrid seed, and as you might imagine, the costs add up quickly. Why do farmers buy hybrid seed? Apparently, seed companies operate intense propaganda schemes that lead to the notion that hybrid corn is intrinsically better than open pollinated varieties. Similarly, transgenic (genetically modified) corn is also on the rise. It is the most expensive seed available, and also thought to be better than other varieties. Transgenic corn also requires chemical inputs (fertilizers etc), and it is genetically engineered to not produce viable seed for replanting, so again, farmers depend on buying the seed every year.
The overarching goal of my job is to find sustainable alternatives to all of these practices. My main project is to figure out ways to productively breed Creole Corn (a non-hybrid variety), or to put it more specifically, to figure out how to select the best, strongest, healthiest seed for replanting next year. My first assignment at work was the reading of a 400 pg manual in Spanish entitled ``El Maíz en los Tropicos: Mejoramiento y Produccion´´ (Corn in the Tropics: Improvement and Production). Slow reading but fun stuff. Since then, I have done lots of online research, and put together a short manual with descriptions of possible techniques. In the upcoming months, I will be going into the field and testing out the theory. Hopefully the experiments will then be the basis for development of solid breeding methods that can be used by future farmers as an alternative to buying expensive hybrid seed and related inputs. My biggest worry aside from actually carrying out this project, is making sure that it can be sustainable after I leave, given that I´m here for only one harvest. A big goal of mine therefore, is to try to work very closely with farmers who know a lot more about planting corn than I do, incorporate their normal cultivation methods in the Creole Corn experiments, and through that process hopefully generate a lot of interest in the results.

And in case you thought I would gloss over the most well-known symbol of Latin American cuisine you will not be disappointed as I further describe my food adventures. I refer of course to the tortilla – the staple, the bread, the unfaltering companion to all other meals, the beginning and the end, the little yellow disc of warm toasted goodness. Between the tortillas, the pupusas, the elotes (corn on the cob), the atols (hot corn drink), the tamales (doughy corn dish) and other popular meals, I rapidly realized that not only am I turning into a corn farmer, but I am in fact, turning into corn. But I digress… The tortilla! The tortilla is a corn-based dish. It is an unleavened circular bread that is hand-flattened by women everywhere I have so far visited. Unlike the North American tortilla, it is slightly thicker and much smaller. Within my first week of cooking at home, I embarked on my very own food adventure: trial and error tortilla making. With disbelieving roommates in attendance, I started my first tortilla attempt by slowly adding water to ``harina de maíz´´ - corn flour – to reach the consistency that I had admiringly observed at street stands all over. So far so good. I rolled the dough into balls, then flattened them into discs and fried them in oil. Very tasty, but wrong! In fact, there is no need for the oil frying. Locals place tortillas on ``comals´´ - sort of like large sheets of metal, heated from below that permit tortilla-making by the dozens. Now I leave the tortilla dough on the pan at low heat, flip over a few times and then eat the tortillas hot with veggies, meat, and sauce. My roommates now insist that I am genetically predisposed to know how to cook tortillas.

Passover Weekend

So for Passover, the other fellows came to San Salvador and crashed our house (10 of us in our tiny casita!!!). We rented kitchen and table space at the little hotel where we lived for 2 weeks, shopped for relevant kosher food, cooked some amazing dishes including the traditional Matzah Ball Soup from the matzah ball soup mix, and had our very own Seder - Equipo Uno Style. We had to improvise due to lack of horseradish. We ended up asking people in the grocery store for bitter vegetables and ended up with these unfamiliar white flowers. Though we didn't know how to prepare it, Flor de Izote did the trick, it was quite bitter and also happens to be the National Flower of El Salvador (I later found out.) The Jewish mothers would have been so proud!















We also used passover weekend as the perfect excuse to go to the beach. We found this secluded spot with the help of Salvadoran friends. El Tunco had warm waters, lots of rocks and relaxing sand.

Lastly, I share my favorite wildlife pic. We did some San Salvador sightseeing and went to a botanical garden. Along with all of the beautiful flowers and fascinating plant life I also observed this turtle in a pond.

San Sal

About 5 weeks ago I moved to San Salvador, El Salvador, where I will be living and working for the rest of the year. We took a comfortable 12 hour bus ride from Managua, and looking out the window at my new home, I found myself happily surprised by what I saw of the city. San Salvador appears to be a city of contrasts – the poorer parts are dirty, crowded, crumbling, and dangerous, but the nicer areas of town are well-kept, green and modern. The Lonely Planet Guide says ‘if San Salvador were a woman, you would say she had a nice personality’. The city is the intellectual and cultural capital of the country and sports fashionable bars and restaurants, regular live-music performances, theater events and so forth.
One of the most striking things for me in San Salvador so far has been witnessing the Salvadoran obsession with American culture. One of the most quoted statistics I have heard since coming here is that 2 million El Salvadorans live in the United States, while the total population of El Salvador is 6 million, numbers that help to explain why the country’s economy is so dependent on remittances (the money sent back to El Sal by those living in the US) and has been dollarized in recent years. Even making a cellphone call to the States is cheaper than calling within the country. The amount of American-style malls everywhere is almost scary – they show off American fashion, movies, and food, and they also are very safe areas to socialize. When people go out for a nice meal they often go to fast food restaurants, which aren’t the cheapest of eating places here.
Despite the eeriness of seeing the USA everywhere I turn, the everyday San Sal life is completely new and different. There are many mercados (markets) in the city where one can buy anything from fresh produce to furniture, and pirated DVDs of questionable quality for less than $2. Navigating the bus routes has also been a bit of a challenge. The high urban population means that there are a ton of different buses going practically anywhere you want and exhaling pollution all the way. My roommate and I both separately got lost one day trying out a new bus route. Luckily they drive around in loops and turn back around eventually, and after you take them many times, it is possible to figure out where they will stop. Last week, we experienced a bus strike protesting the government’s forbidding the raise of bus fare in the face of increasing oil prices. Basically, people walked everywhere searching for the few routes that weren’t striking and over-crowding those few buses like crazy, while people who owned pick-up trucks and taxi drivers were making lots of money driving people around.
As far as where I’ve been living, I spent my first two weeks in a hotel with 3 other AJWS fellows, Rachael, Tamara and Natahsa, until we could move into our little house. During those first hotel days we were unable to cook our own food, so we ate at the cheap ‘pupuserias’ along the road. The pupusa is a Salvadoran dish, a small fried tortilla usually filled with cheese and refried beans. Healthy, I know. Within the first week, I and 2 of my roommates found ourselves sick to our stomachs. Laboratory stool samples revealed the culprits: Amoebas! Antibiotics eventually took care of them, and since moving into our house stricter control of food intake can be enforced. Our little house is in a great neighborhood – close to a soccer field, a mall, a bakery, pupuserias… Many families live on our street with cute children fascinated by our every move. After drawing straws for rooms I ended up with the ‘maid’s quarters’ – a part of many Salvadoran homes – a tiny room separate from the main house with its own bathroom. Works for me! Though small, our house has everything we need including a kitchen, running water at night and wireless internet.
Great house stories include the time when Rachael and I flooded the kitchen trying to install a water filter to the faucet. The tap water here is contaminated with amoebas and all of their little friends. So one day we found ourselves trying to change the faucet heads so that the filter could screw on to the new one but we neglected to turn off the water. After I ran around the block in a very soaked state looking for help while Rachael plugged up the pipe with her fingers, neighbors came to the rescue, turned off the water, and later installed the filter. Yay neighbors!
Another day I was looking inside of our refrigerator where I suddenly observed a Coca-cola bottle rolling back and forth for no apparent reason. Simultaneously, I realized that everything was moving back and forth. As immediately as it started, the shaking stopped. I was completely disoriented for a moment. My californian roommate Natasha immediately understood what had happened, calmly informed us that it was an earthquake and made us all go outside. All of our neighbors suddenly appeared on the street, and Rachael who was in the shower, walked out in only a towel. I think was in a bit of shock from the sheer natural power and unpredictability of the experience, and it took a while for my jitters to go away. This was a light earthquake, a regular occurrence in the city, but I’m not eagerly awaiting a stronger one.
So it’s been just over a month since I arrived in El Salvador, and it’s been a packed couple of weeks. Looking back on it though, I think of a comment my mother made in a recent email. She said that in developing countries daily frustrations are often greater than in developed countries, especially when one is reliant on public systems like bus transportation. The contrast between rich and poor here is only enhanced by such dependencies – not having a car, not having private education or healthcare, not having the money to hire a somebody to fix the tap post-flooding, or the house post-earthquake. The past month’s experiences are a small step to appreciating the gravity of such situations, and feeling solidarity towards the people I will be working with and living with while I am here. Speaking of which, I haven’t explained my job yet, so look out for the next post.

Orientation Part 2

So this is Orientation part 2. Time to share a couple more stories.
Last weekend, all of the fellows plus Kip, our field officer, went to the Nicaraguan beach – in this case the Eastern Coast /Pacific Ocean beach. We rented a mini-bus (very easy to do here, just talk to the driver) and headed out to a place called “La Boquita”, literally, ‘little mouth’. Unfortunately, I don’t know why it is called that. The place is a collection of restaurants that all border the sand – so we just went into one, took over a few tables and ran into the water. The waves were huge! They were good for surfing. Not that I surf, but I enjoyed them lots. The water was pretty warm and the other fellows and I had a good time trying to body surf. I brought my Frisbee (surprise surprise) and some of us threw that around for a while. Horses kept passing through the area, either with riders or pulling carts, and some people were playing soccer. We had lunch at the restaurant and I had a soup that had crayfish in it. Quite tasty. I also took care of all my napping needs in one of the restaurant’s comfy hammocks. On the way back to Jinotepe (probably about an hour and a half drive) the bus suddenly overheated and stalled. Smoke was coming out of it, and we all raced out. It was just about time for a refreshing beautiful sunset, and none of us were too bothered by waiting an hour for the bus to cool down. We found ourselves in a rural area surrounded by some fields and some cows and lots of green. We had fun amusing ourselves with more Frisbee, taking crazy pictures of each other jumping in the air and holding an impromptu dance party next to the road. A few cars passed by but none of them stopped. Eventually we all pushed the car until the driver could start the motor up again but we didn’t trust that car to carry us all the way back. We boarded a second bus for a cramped drive home characterized by lots of singing.

My final story should be titled ‘not blending in can be no fun’ and I write with much sympathy towards my fellow fellows, who I’m sure will all mention this same topic in their blogs. Also worthy of mention is the group demographic: 11 people – 1 of whom is male and 1 of whom is non-caucasian (me). As our group has unfortunately learned, due to the existence of Nicaraguan machismo culture, it is very commonplace for men to harass perceived attractive women in the street. Machismo culture dictates that men can’t be held responsible for their carnal desires, thus there is nothing wrong with whistles, dirty comments/noises, grabbing etc of aforementioned attractive women. Foreign (white) women are stereotyped to be both attractive and easy, and frustratingly, all of my fellow gringas have been subject to such harassment, which is an uncomfortable and often scary experience. For once I find myself in a majority, my skin being the perfect personal camouflauge, slightly destroyed only at the moment I open my mouth to say something in Spanish. I weave in and out of being a foreigner – I don’t ever attract any attention when alone, but I therefore really notice the difference when I’m walking with the others. I’ve gotten into the habit of making sure I mention being born in Guatemala when Nicaraguans ask me where I’m from, because they react very warmly whenever I do so. However, any mention of Namibia, Africa results in either blank stares or strange questions. “There’s a lot of black people there?” I sometimes wonder how I would be treated if my skin were black yet I had the exact same life story as I do now. I get the impression that in Central America there exists quite a bit of racism against black people.

Fellowship Orientation: Nicaragua

And here begins my fellowship adventure. The way the fellowship works is basically that American Jewish World Service pays all of my living expenses so that I can volunteer for an NGO in Central America for nine months. As mentioned earlier, I am not allowed to specifically mention the name of the NGO that I will be working for, but I can tell you all that I will be living in San Salvador, El Salvador and the social justice field within which I will be working is that of sustainable agriculture. I don’t know anything about that yet, but I’m looking forward to this amazing cross-cultural opportunity. For the past 3.5 weeks I have been preparing for my upcoming job by participating in fellowship orientation, held in Jinotepe, Nicaragua along with 10 other fellows. The major components of this orientation, are homestay, Spanish classes and orientation sessions.

Jinotepe is a small town about an hour and a half south-east of Managua. It has a small park across from a huge church, a bustling Mercado (market) where you can get anything from cheap vegetables to cheap sneakers, and a long Avenida Central (central avenue) which sports various shops, internet cafes, banks, a post office, a play ground and a taco restaurant. Jinotepe, like many central american towns I have so far visited, does not have a single road sign, so landmarks are vital.
My homestay family is very hospitable and they are also very good cooks. The typical Nicaraguan food is rice and beans, something I was able to learn firsthand: breakfast = ‘gallo pinto’, a traditional dish of rice mixed together with beans, lunch = rice next to beans, dinner = beans. Jokes aside though, I am lucky to have a variety of side dishes along with those meals including eggs, meat (chicken, beef and fish on Fridays due to lent), salads and often freshly squeezed orange juice. Yay! I also lucked out in the bathroom department – I got a private bathroom, hot water and running water 24 hours a day. Many of my fellow fellows had cold bucket showers and dodgy water supply. The house location being on the geographically lower altitude area of town ensures both stable running water and flood risk. You win some, you lose some. Also, I recall my first few homestay observations. The first time I entered my room, I observed the only decoration - a huge wooden cross right over my bed. It reminds me how homogenously Christian it is here, to the point that even after explaining my Judaism, my homestay mother asked me what kind of a Christian this meant I was. Secondly, I observed that they have a cute pet parrot that does an excellent impression of a child (giggles, laughter, tantrums). Being the ecology nerd that I am, I identified it as a Yellow-naped Parrot, an endangered species in the area, presumably due to its selection as a pet due to its ‘talking’ ability. Sadness. Lastly, I quickly noticed that my homestay family (like many American families) watches TV all evening. This was initially disappointing because I wanted to engage my family in conversation, however I soon realized that this was an excellent way to improve my Spanish, so I got hooked on a Mexican telenovela.

The orientation period has overall been jam-packed with activities. My normal day begins around 8:00 for Spanish class which lasts until 11:30. Then I make my way home via the internet café. I eat a lunch (the biggest meal of the day) and race back to orientation sessions at 1, finish at 6pm. I head home to eat dinner and watch “la viuda de blanco”. It is awesome. Often I have an evening activity anywhere between 7:30 and 10. I go to sleep. Repeat. Orientation sessions have been a variety of group discussions, lectures, socio-dramas, presentations etc. General topics include the things that will hopefully prepare us for the upcoming months – cross-cultural skills, social/economic/political history of El Salvador and Nicaragua, inner workings of AJWS, international development, social justice, health safety and security, and so forth. I feel as if I have learnt a lot, which is a good thing. The best part of orientation though, is getting to know the other fellows – all of whom have turned out to be knowledgable, interesting and fun. Many of them also share my fascination with Frisbees, so I really can’t complain at all. Yay for having friends.

Scenes from Guatemala

So I realize that I haven’t made much use of the posting photos function that this blog allows me. In fact I hadn’t realized it was that easy. So props to Blogspot for letting me do this: enjoy these pics. You can probably figure out which picture corresponds to which description.
(1) Lake Atitlan – and yes it really is that gorgeous, and sorry I didn’t talk that much about it in my recent entry. There just wasn’t enough space for everything. My favorite moments were bumpy boat rides surrounded by beautiful blue waters to and from the cities along its coast. (alliteration!!!)
(2) Volcano Pacaya – got pretty close!
(3) Antigua colonial architecture. The lighting worked out well if I do say so myself. ;)
(4) Graffiti for all those global citizens like myself….

The Beginning: Guatemala Adventures

So here comes the first entry of many concerning my travels in Central America. A fitting beginning, I start my journey with 3 weeks travel in Guatemala. As many of you know, this means back to my country of origin, a place I had visited once since adoption at age 6 months. I’ve been working on an appropriate blog response ever since I left but the words haven’t been working for me. My brain has been very busy adapting to Central America in general, so simply recognizing the process has been important and often difficult. As you can imagine, throughout my Guatemalan journey all of the ‘what if’ questions and the ‘who am I’ questions were crowding my brain quite a lot. Sitting in a bus heading out of Guatemala City, it suddenly occurred to me that any given person I saw might possibly be a relative.

I really wanted this first entry to be a well-written piece of art, but I haven’t sorted out all of my questions from the answers yet so I’m not at the right place to write anything nearly that well-composed at the moment. My sincere apologies for not sending this out sooner. I do have some great stories though, so I hope you enjoy some favorites….

My trip was both epic and unplanned. I arrived with reservations for one night at a hostel in Guatemala city and 3 largely unscheduled goals: visit friends, take Spanish classes and travel. My favorite immediate observations were (1) that I was no longer short in height and on the contrary pretty average height for a woman. It was a happy shock, and despite my non-traditional clothing and touristy backpack I blended in extremely well. (2) The beautiful buses – known as chicken buses, part of an elaborate and cheap public transport system that converted old American yellow school buses by repainting and decorating them completely so that they are now brilliantly colored and generally sport a lot of Christian paraphernalia. (3) Phone technology. As in much of the rest of the world, cellphones have become more and more popular in Guatemala. This might not seem so strange except that even in the most remote areas that I visited where residents still don’t have piped water, I witnessed people talking on cellphones. A technological jump!

A small world story: Two American friends of mine, with whom I studied abroad in Ecuador in 2006 (see much earlier blog posts for details), are both now living in Guatemala as Peace Corps volunteers. Sarah and Lupe are both involved in the broad Peace Corps theme of “food security”, and it was my great fortune that both invited me to visit them at their sites and stay with their homestay families, a chance that also allowed me to get off the beaten gringo trail. To visit Lupe I traveled out into what felt like the middle of nowhere in the Guatemalan region of Jalapa. I found myself in a mountainous area of “el campo” - the rural areas. I shadowed Lupe in her everyday work – helping local women farmers “campesinas” to build compost heaps in their backyards, taking long walks along gravel roads to get to their farms, experimenting with collection of amaranth seeds for possible consumption and learning more about worm-agriculture eg using worms to make fertilizer from cow dung. I also enjoyed tortilla meals with her homestay family and showing the children pictures of Namibia from a tourist magazine I had brought with me. The African animal pictures were a big hit. The thing I was least prepared for was the cold at night, and this gave me the realization that the lack of central heating makes all the difference. Also, lack of running water 24 hours a day plus bucket showers only.

Sarah’s homestay family lives a short busride from Sololå, a bustling market town north of Lake Atitlan. In this area, live many indigenous Guatemalans – descendents of the Mayan Indians, that still wear beautiful hand-woven traditional clothing and speak 1 of 23 different indigenous languages. A fun fact: Guatemala has an indigenous population of about 60%, much higher than any other Central American country. Sarah is in the process of learning Cakchikel, a rather guttural language that I attempted (pitifully) to learn some words of during my visit. The night I stayed with her, Sarah and I made and cooked pizza and salad from scratch for her homestay family using their simple wood-burning stove, which turned out very tasty. Sarah’s homestay mother insisted on making tortillas to go along with it. It was a cultural experience, and also truly wonderful to be taken in so hospitably by both Sarah and Lupe’s families.

I spent a week in Antigua, a beautiful old colonial town in central Guatemala flanked by volcanoes, where I took Spanish classes in the afternoons while in the mornings, I volunteered for a coffee cooperative that produces fair-trade coffee. During my time there, I took a day trip to volcano Pacaya. It had erupted the night before I hiked to it (with guide and group), thereby stopping us from being able to climb all the way to the top, but on the bright side, we got to see a lot of lava. The stuff literally glows red-hot and it gives off a lot of heat, what luck! I do have to say a word or two about coffee production as well which fascinated me during my short volunteer time – making coffee is not as easy as it might seem. It is quite a detailed process involving harvesting the coffee fruit, separating the bean from outer fruit flesh and later an outer shell, fermenting and drying as well as the actual roasting which has to be timed perfectly. Don’t take Starbucks for granted!!!!!

My last paragraph is dedicated to two wonderful families that are part of my personal Guatemalan history. The first is that of Gladys – Sergio’s foster family mother prior to his adoption – with whom I was able to visit for a weekend in Guatemala City. I thank Galdys and her her daughter Fabiola for their generous hospitality and the royal food treatment – huge lunches! I also thank Ena and Ramon and family for a very special dinner together. They were the lawyers responsible for allowing me to be able to be adopted legally, and what a gift to still be in touch with them and meet their son and daughters. It is heartwarming to know that when I visit Guatemala again I’ll have family there.

So in the interest of not writing too too much, I’ll cut off this entry here. Feel free to write me an email anytime with any questions or comments, or just to say “hello there!” :)