So, I don't know how many of my four (4!) followers haven't seen these already, but I uploaded all 436 of my photos to flikr (and facebook).
At some point, I hope to go back and put some of them in the actual posts, but here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/theelementsofsophie/
Apparently, flickr won't let me show you more than 200 photos at a time, so ENJOY 200 of them...
Sophia
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Day 8
I am currently at cruising height, somewhere over some large body of water. I already miss every single one of the people I have met on this trip. Apparently I have become to sound like a broken record, repeating the fact that I miss people over and over again,
This has been one of the best weeks of my life.
Yesterday was our last day of work. I returned Zaragosa, to say goodbye to everyone. It was a half day, but we all put in as much work as possible, just to see how much we could get in. It was weird, knowing that it was the last time I would probally see any of these kids ever. They are the sweetest kids I have ever met, and leaving was so hard, but I would rather have met them and had to say goodbye than to have never known them. When we walked down the hill to the village, all of the kids were waiting for us. Sofia was there, as well as Helen, and another girl Paulina. They all rushed towards us, giving us hugs.
We brought them donuts, as a sort of good bye gift. They were really good donuts, and the kids were so happy to see them.
I am having trouble conjuring up words to explain how I felt and what I did. I had the same problem last night at reflection. I just sputtered about how much everything meant to me and how it was nice to be there. The whole trip is all just a blur of love and friendship and happiness.Yesterday, I helped Sofia and Helen make bracelets, and played tag and ride the Sophie-pretending-to-be-a-pony with Sofia and Paulina. I taught them Ring Around the Rosie, and counted jump rope jumps.
As the day’s arts and crafts project, we made paper Leis (I am getting really good at them). I helped the kids cut and design and string their necklaces, and, as I was doing sow, I was struck with how much my Spanish has improved. I was able to explain how to do things, and the kids (usually) looked like they understood what I was talking about.
After lunch, we played a game of soccer. I played goalie, and did pretty poorly. I kept saying the score was “Sophie is a really bad goalie to three” and “Sophie is a really bad goalie to four”. It was fun though, and I got appropriately muddy.
After my astounding loss, it was time to say good bye.
It was the hardest part of the entire trip. I held Sofia and Helen and Paulina for like a hour, and then everyone began to walk to the bus. We all were hugging each other, and carrying the kids, and saying goodbye and adios over and over again. We got to the bus, and it took 20 minutes just to get in the vehicle--there was too much love and sadness to leave too quickly.
After we drove away, the fact that I am probably never going to see any of the kids again really sunk in. I cried.
After leaving Zaragosa, we met up with everyone at the hospital/house/church where Oscar Romero died. I made the obligatory jokes about not knowing who he was. I froze because of over exposure to air conditioning.
We went back to the house, ate dinner, had reflection, and listened to a local band and watched a local dance group. It was a good ending to a wonderful week.
I would like to thank everyone for reading and commenting and sharing my blog with everyone, it made it easier to force myself to write it. I hope you were able to live vicariously through me. =]
Sophie
This has been one of the best weeks of my life.
Yesterday was our last day of work. I returned Zaragosa, to say goodbye to everyone. It was a half day, but we all put in as much work as possible, just to see how much we could get in. It was weird, knowing that it was the last time I would probally see any of these kids ever. They are the sweetest kids I have ever met, and leaving was so hard, but I would rather have met them and had to say goodbye than to have never known them. When we walked down the hill to the village, all of the kids were waiting for us. Sofia was there, as well as Helen, and another girl Paulina. They all rushed towards us, giving us hugs.
We brought them donuts, as a sort of good bye gift. They were really good donuts, and the kids were so happy to see them.
I am having trouble conjuring up words to explain how I felt and what I did. I had the same problem last night at reflection. I just sputtered about how much everything meant to me and how it was nice to be there. The whole trip is all just a blur of love and friendship and happiness.Yesterday, I helped Sofia and Helen make bracelets, and played tag and ride the Sophie-pretending-to-be-a-pony with Sofia and Paulina. I taught them Ring Around the Rosie, and counted jump rope jumps.
As the day’s arts and crafts project, we made paper Leis (I am getting really good at them). I helped the kids cut and design and string their necklaces, and, as I was doing sow, I was struck with how much my Spanish has improved. I was able to explain how to do things, and the kids (usually) looked like they understood what I was talking about.
After lunch, we played a game of soccer. I played goalie, and did pretty poorly. I kept saying the score was “Sophie is a really bad goalie to three” and “Sophie is a really bad goalie to four”. It was fun though, and I got appropriately muddy.
After my astounding loss, it was time to say good bye.
It was the hardest part of the entire trip. I held Sofia and Helen and Paulina for like a hour, and then everyone began to walk to the bus. We all were hugging each other, and carrying the kids, and saying goodbye and adios over and over again. We got to the bus, and it took 20 minutes just to get in the vehicle--there was too much love and sadness to leave too quickly.
After we drove away, the fact that I am probably never going to see any of the kids again really sunk in. I cried.
After leaving Zaragosa, we met up with everyone at the hospital/house/church where Oscar Romero died. I made the obligatory jokes about not knowing who he was. I froze because of over exposure to air conditioning.
We went back to the house, ate dinner, had reflection, and listened to a local band and watched a local dance group. It was a good ending to a wonderful week.
I would like to thank everyone for reading and commenting and sharing my blog with everyone, it made it easier to force myself to write it. I hope you were able to live vicariously through me. =]
Sophie
Day 7
Day 7.
Today was Sunday, so we didn’t go to any of the worksites. Instead, we woke up, got dressed up in nice clothes (which was real weird), and ate breakfast. After breakfast, we gathered up, and instead of doing our usual pre-work prayers, we read through the readings that would be read at the mass. I can’t say I was super attentive, but I do remember one of the stories was the one about the beggar and Samaritan that is in Godspell. So all I could think about was puppet shows.
The mass itself was long, but interesting. It was all in spanish, so I understood about three words, but it was incredible to see how dedicated the people here (both on my trip and in El Salvador) are to their faiths. I felt a little left out, because I had NO idea what was going on with the prayers and such, but I tried my best to stand when people stood, kneel when people knelt, and shake their hands when people shook hands. I didn’t go up for communion (I never do), and I just sat in my seat looking slightly confused.
After the service, we went below the Cathedral to the crypt. We saw the tomb of Oscar Romero, which was very interesting. The brass of the statue, is well-worn and well-loved--he truly is a great and inspiring man.
I need to go to bed now, but I will write more tomorrow.
Well, I lied when I said I would right “tomorrow”, because now tomorrow is yesterday. Time is weird that way.
But I will try to remember the rest of the day.
After we went down to the crypt, we all got back on to the bus (your standard issue yellow school bus) and went to the Marcada for a bit of shopping. It was actually the first time we had really been in the city, outside of the compound. We were given an hour to wander around, and I wandered with Kat, and Hannah, and Colette. The Marcada is an indoor market; basically, it is a room filled with little stalls that all sell just about the same thing: purses, bracelets, keychains, odd knicknacks and vegetable-shaped napkin holders. I spent around $60 on presents and gifts and jewelry for my self. We were supposed to/allowed to barter and bargain, but I was pretty bad at it. I wish I would have tired harder, I could have saved like 20 bucks. Some of the other girls got really into it; Fiona got a pair of 15 dollar shoes for nine by going on and on about needing money for the train. There aren’t any trains in El Salvador.
We left the market, some more bag-laden than the others, and went back to the compound. There, we were allowed to eat upstairs (which was a real big deal) so we could watch the World Cup final. I haven’t really been following the tournament that closely, but everyone answered all of my annoying questions, so I figured out what was going on. I started the game supporting the Dutch, because I like their outfits better, but about 20 minutes in I decided that Spain was better, and I changed my allegiance. No one really seemed to care that much.
Three quarters of the way into the the game, Sister Gloria announced that it was time to leave. Everyone (well, like me and six other people) were upset about missing the end of the game, but we got ready to go to the orphanage. We all used lots of bugspray, and protected our heads and got on the bus. I sat with Kat, and we talked about home and life and doing more volunteer work when we return. We talked with the other volunteers about the music they liked, and about their schools, and all sorts of other nonsense. We finished listening to the soccer game, and celebrated when Spain won. After 45 minutes or an hour of bus riding, the bus stopped. I was in the back of the bus and wasn’t really paying attention, so I was surprised to hear that the bus had broken down. At first we (well, I) thought it might be some sort of joke, but the rising levels of panic among the adults proved otherwise. Luckily, we were only about 100 meters away from the orphanage, and we were able to walk along the side of the road. It was probably one of the most nerve-racking minute and a half of the entire trip. I am nervous person, and walking on high-speed high ways freaks me out at home. Add in the fact that it was sort of raining and it was in El Salvador, and I almost had a panic attack.
People had warned me that the orphanage was going to be sad, and they were right, to an extent. It was heartbreaking to see the children who had given up--they were silent, hard to engage, and didn’t look like they cared about much of everything. Mostly this was the older girls--the sisters that run the orphanage have to move the boys out when the turn ten, but they keep the girls until they are old enough to go to the states of get a job. That said, some of the children were happy and joyful, and really excited to see us. I strung leis and cut paper snowflakes and made god’s eyes and “played” soccer with them. I tried to learn all of their names, but failed. They were adorable, all dressed up in their Sunday best, running around, having fun.
After the orphanage, we went back on the bus, and we sang show tunes and americana songs and interviewed each other and had all sorts of good times.
We then ate dinner and had reflection and hung out, I think.
At reflection, we read a story about a single snowflake breaking a branch--it was one of millions, but it was that one snowflake that made all the difference. If I take anything away from this trip, I want it to be that story. No matter how small and insignificant an action seems to me, it can be the one that changes the world.
Sofia
Today was Sunday, so we didn’t go to any of the worksites. Instead, we woke up, got dressed up in nice clothes (which was real weird), and ate breakfast. After breakfast, we gathered up, and instead of doing our usual pre-work prayers, we read through the readings that would be read at the mass. I can’t say I was super attentive, but I do remember one of the stories was the one about the beggar and Samaritan that is in Godspell. So all I could think about was puppet shows.
The mass itself was long, but interesting. It was all in spanish, so I understood about three words, but it was incredible to see how dedicated the people here (both on my trip and in El Salvador) are to their faiths. I felt a little left out, because I had NO idea what was going on with the prayers and such, but I tried my best to stand when people stood, kneel when people knelt, and shake their hands when people shook hands. I didn’t go up for communion (I never do), and I just sat in my seat looking slightly confused.
After the service, we went below the Cathedral to the crypt. We saw the tomb of Oscar Romero, which was very interesting. The brass of the statue, is well-worn and well-loved--he truly is a great and inspiring man.
I need to go to bed now, but I will write more tomorrow.
Well, I lied when I said I would right “tomorrow”, because now tomorrow is yesterday. Time is weird that way.
But I will try to remember the rest of the day.
After we went down to the crypt, we all got back on to the bus (your standard issue yellow school bus) and went to the Marcada for a bit of shopping. It was actually the first time we had really been in the city, outside of the compound. We were given an hour to wander around, and I wandered with Kat, and Hannah, and Colette. The Marcada is an indoor market; basically, it is a room filled with little stalls that all sell just about the same thing: purses, bracelets, keychains, odd knicknacks and vegetable-shaped napkin holders. I spent around $60 on presents and gifts and jewelry for my self. We were supposed to/allowed to barter and bargain, but I was pretty bad at it. I wish I would have tired harder, I could have saved like 20 bucks. Some of the other girls got really into it; Fiona got a pair of 15 dollar shoes for nine by going on and on about needing money for the train. There aren’t any trains in El Salvador.
We left the market, some more bag-laden than the others, and went back to the compound. There, we were allowed to eat upstairs (which was a real big deal) so we could watch the World Cup final. I haven’t really been following the tournament that closely, but everyone answered all of my annoying questions, so I figured out what was going on. I started the game supporting the Dutch, because I like their outfits better, but about 20 minutes in I decided that Spain was better, and I changed my allegiance. No one really seemed to care that much.
Three quarters of the way into the the game, Sister Gloria announced that it was time to leave. Everyone (well, like me and six other people) were upset about missing the end of the game, but we got ready to go to the orphanage. We all used lots of bugspray, and protected our heads and got on the bus. I sat with Kat, and we talked about home and life and doing more volunteer work when we return. We talked with the other volunteers about the music they liked, and about their schools, and all sorts of other nonsense. We finished listening to the soccer game, and celebrated when Spain won. After 45 minutes or an hour of bus riding, the bus stopped. I was in the back of the bus and wasn’t really paying attention, so I was surprised to hear that the bus had broken down. At first we (well, I) thought it might be some sort of joke, but the rising levels of panic among the adults proved otherwise. Luckily, we were only about 100 meters away from the orphanage, and we were able to walk along the side of the road. It was probably one of the most nerve-racking minute and a half of the entire trip. I am nervous person, and walking on high-speed high ways freaks me out at home. Add in the fact that it was sort of raining and it was in El Salvador, and I almost had a panic attack.
People had warned me that the orphanage was going to be sad, and they were right, to an extent. It was heartbreaking to see the children who had given up--they were silent, hard to engage, and didn’t look like they cared about much of everything. Mostly this was the older girls--the sisters that run the orphanage have to move the boys out when the turn ten, but they keep the girls until they are old enough to go to the states of get a job. That said, some of the children were happy and joyful, and really excited to see us. I strung leis and cut paper snowflakes and made god’s eyes and “played” soccer with them. I tried to learn all of their names, but failed. They were adorable, all dressed up in their Sunday best, running around, having fun.
After the orphanage, we went back on the bus, and we sang show tunes and americana songs and interviewed each other and had all sorts of good times.
We then ate dinner and had reflection and hung out, I think.
At reflection, we read a story about a single snowflake breaking a branch--it was one of millions, but it was that one snowflake that made all the difference. If I take anything away from this trip, I want it to be that story. No matter how small and insignificant an action seems to me, it can be the one that changes the world.
Sofia
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day 6, I think.
ALLALALALALALLALALALA.
LALALLALALALA
I LOVE BLOGGGINNNGGGG
I really hate when people read over my shoulder, it makes every word I write seem more judged or something. Thus, the beginning of this post. =]
Uh. Yesterday, I went back to Zaragosa, and it was lovely. Everyone in the group went with me, because there is some sort of sickness in Las Delisias, and Miguel had to take one of the local kids to get something done with his heart.
It was interesting to have everyone there--it was like one giant family reunion, as one of the other girls said. It was also saturday, so none of the kids had school, so we had all of the kids, all of the time. Usually we have one group in the morning, but then they go off to school, we get a break, and then there is another group.
We started the day by bailing out all of the water that had collected because of the rain. I helped three or four little boys scoop up the water from what is going to eventually be an office area in the Guardaria. It was touching/memorable/lots of other emotional adjectives to unite with those boys for one singular cause.
After the water bailing, however, I decided not to deal with hard labor and such, and spent the rest of the day with the kids.
I was working the origami station, and I was helping the kids make little origami houses. We made them and colored them, and then I got bored of sitting still. I then helped out with coloring, and making more God’s eyes, and making yarn bracelets. The little kids also started to make cootie catchers, and were running around telling my future--I was bella y mala y bien and about 3423423 other things
There were three things/stories that stuck in my head. Its been at leas 24 hours now, and I am sure I have already forgotten things, but here I go.
I am sure other things happened, but all I remember is hanging out in the evening, sharing stories and secrets with the other girls. We sort of have become a family; it is going to be really hard leaving
Sofia
LALALLALALALA
I LOVE BLOGGGINNNGGGG
I really hate when people read over my shoulder, it makes every word I write seem more judged or something. Thus, the beginning of this post. =]
Uh. Yesterday, I went back to Zaragosa, and it was lovely. Everyone in the group went with me, because there is some sort of sickness in Las Delisias, and Miguel had to take one of the local kids to get something done with his heart.
It was interesting to have everyone there--it was like one giant family reunion, as one of the other girls said. It was also saturday, so none of the kids had school, so we had all of the kids, all of the time. Usually we have one group in the morning, but then they go off to school, we get a break, and then there is another group.
We started the day by bailing out all of the water that had collected because of the rain. I helped three or four little boys scoop up the water from what is going to eventually be an office area in the Guardaria. It was touching/memorable/lots of other emotional adjectives to unite with those boys for one singular cause.
After the water bailing, however, I decided not to deal with hard labor and such, and spent the rest of the day with the kids.
I was working the origami station, and I was helping the kids make little origami houses. We made them and colored them, and then I got bored of sitting still. I then helped out with coloring, and making more God’s eyes, and making yarn bracelets. The little kids also started to make cootie catchers, and were running around telling my future--I was bella y mala y bien and about 3423423 other things
There were three things/stories that stuck in my head. Its been at leas 24 hours now, and I am sure I have already forgotten things, but here I go.
- After I went back to the origami table, I started making paper balls (or water bombs, as Kat calls them). The kids were interested, but there was one girl, who was probably 16ish, who was fascinated. Sadly I have already forgotten her name, but I do remember the look of joy when she was able to understand how to make the ball. I then learned that she knew rudimentary English, and we were able to exchange a few pleasantries.
- There was one girl, Sofia, who became attached to me. On other days, I had been slightly jealous of the girls (and boys) who were able make the little kids like them instantly, but Sofia made up for my jealousy. She made me pictures and I made her bracelets, and I helped her play bingo and she helped me remember people names. I saw a lot of my self in her--she was shy, creative, and intelligent, just like six-year-old me. It was really sad to hold her, and think about everything I have, and all the opportunities I have, and just wishing I could give her some of my life. A nice home, and family that love and supports me, and a future free of rape and abuse, and an opportunity to educate and advance myself. I almost started crying.
- While we were working, Kari’s mother came to me and asked if I was interested in seeing the “shoe lady.” This women works every day, for the majority of her day making shoes for a major american shoe company. She stitches pieces of leather together with a painstaking carefulness--making the bases for moccasins and loafers and clogs. Apparently, she earns 25 cents for every pair of $50 shoes that she makes. From now on, whenever I hold a pair of shoes, I will think of that women, surrounded in squalor, watching three small children, sewing together perfect pairs of shoes.
- In the afternoon, we had to leave early again, because it was raining. Surprise, surprise. We waited for it to calm down, but as soon as we left the protection of a roof, it starting pouring again. As I was walking up the hill to the car, a little boy, Kevin, came up to me put his arm around my waist, and walked me up the hill. We were laughing and joking, and then he turned to me and says, “Como se dice lluve en espanol?”. I told him, “Rain.” He repeated it back to me, and In that moment I realized that these children have 90,000 times more drive and want to be educated than most people at home. It make it even sadder, that most of them are destined for a life of farming, or shoe making or something along those lines.
- As I was walking up the hill, one of the older boys (like 14ish?) came up behind me, and handed me an umbrella. It was so sweet,and so kind, I can’t really explain how happy it made me.
I am sure other things happened, but all I remember is hanging out in the evening, sharing stories and secrets with the other girls. We sort of have become a family; it is going to be really hard leaving
Sofia
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 5, take 2
Well, this is a day late, but this is what yesterday was like:
We were woken up at the usual ungodly hour of 7 to the usual ungodly sound of Sister Gloria’s horn. I swear she could solve all of the world’s problems by blowing that horn and killing the tyrannical dictators of the world.
We woke our little butts up, and got them out of bed, and made our breakfasts and went on our way. I (along with a bunch of other people) went to the village of Las Delesias. We divided into two groups: one went out to a field to play with large amounts of small children, and one went around the village with the local nurse to give out baby clothes to families who were expecting and families with babies.
I went with the nurse, and seeing the babies was one of the most moving experiences of the trip. It was magical to hold the infants and have them looking at you, and to realize that they are humans too-tiny, poor, underprivileged humans--but humans, who were going to grow and learn and make friends and have lives.
Side note: Sarah and Michael and Shannon and Heather, and everyone else here, want to be included in everyone journals. SO NOW THEY HAVE BEEN MENTIONED.
We went around to probably 17 houses, and gave away 14 bags of clothes. Everyone was really welcoming and happy to see us and to receive the clothing. One women we went to see had just had a cesarean section, and we got to see the eight-day-old baby and help clean the wound/scar/whatever.
By helping, I mean that I stood back and sort of watched, while avoiding looking too closely.
At another house, the nurse taught us how to make tortillas. Mine (and most of the other girls) was a failure, but it was really fun to see a little bit into the daily lives and livelihoods of the people. Because we couldn’t eat our tortillas (all that contaminated water nonsense), we carried them up the hill and gave them to a family with a little girl on the way to school. The nurse said to them, “They look awfully bad, but they should taste fine.” Or something along those lines.
Sadly, I think I am going to have to cross off Tortilla Maker from my list of potential careers.
While we were walking around the village, I really got to know all of the girls/women who were with us. It was really nice to just bond and relax, while still getting to know more about the people and customs of El Salvador. And while climbing up real steep hills and trudging through cornfields.
After we returned from our adventures throughout the town, the two groups (remember them from the beginning of this story?) met back up for lunch. We played a bit with the kids, and then it started to rain. I am not sure if it is always this wet in El Salvador, but it has rained every single day I have been here. And not just a little pitter-patter, but a the-world-is-ending-find-your-ark sort of downpour.
Because we didn’t want to get stuck in a mud slide, or something along those lines, we had to leave. So, I never really got to get to know the kids, which I supposed is a mixed blessing. On one hand, I wanted to know as many people as possible and be as well rounded as possible, but now I have less people to say good bye to on Monday (which is really soon).
For the rest of the afternoon, we just hung out around the house; Kat and I used the pila to do a whole lot of laundry. After dinner, I got really bad heart burn, and had to suffer through a not so great movie.
Oh well, it helped me understand this whole fascination with Oscar Ramero that all of the people here have...
After the movie, we had reflection, and it was all very moving. One of my new friends Colette, brought up something that really struck home for me--she was talking about the differences in opportunity that the children in the United State have, compared to the children here. We in the United States take for granted living in a safe, fostering environment; having good schools; have opportunities to better ourselves. Thinking about this made me cry--I have so many good things in my life, that the people I have met this week could never imagine, and I abuse them, and take them for granted.
Sleep tight Angel Faces
Sofia
P.S. Thank you for all of your kind comments, and I am sorry I don't have the time to respond to them all.
We were woken up at the usual ungodly hour of 7 to the usual ungodly sound of Sister Gloria’s horn. I swear she could solve all of the world’s problems by blowing that horn and killing the tyrannical dictators of the world.
We woke our little butts up, and got them out of bed, and made our breakfasts and went on our way. I (along with a bunch of other people) went to the village of Las Delesias. We divided into two groups: one went out to a field to play with large amounts of small children, and one went around the village with the local nurse to give out baby clothes to families who were expecting and families with babies.
I went with the nurse, and seeing the babies was one of the most moving experiences of the trip. It was magical to hold the infants and have them looking at you, and to realize that they are humans too-tiny, poor, underprivileged humans--but humans, who were going to grow and learn and make friends and have lives.
Side note: Sarah and Michael and Shannon and Heather, and everyone else here, want to be included in everyone journals. SO NOW THEY HAVE BEEN MENTIONED.
We went around to probably 17 houses, and gave away 14 bags of clothes. Everyone was really welcoming and happy to see us and to receive the clothing. One women we went to see had just had a cesarean section, and we got to see the eight-day-old baby and help clean the wound/scar/whatever.
By helping, I mean that I stood back and sort of watched, while avoiding looking too closely.
At another house, the nurse taught us how to make tortillas. Mine (and most of the other girls) was a failure, but it was really fun to see a little bit into the daily lives and livelihoods of the people. Because we couldn’t eat our tortillas (all that contaminated water nonsense), we carried them up the hill and gave them to a family with a little girl on the way to school. The nurse said to them, “They look awfully bad, but they should taste fine.” Or something along those lines.
Sadly, I think I am going to have to cross off Tortilla Maker from my list of potential careers.
While we were walking around the village, I really got to know all of the girls/women who were with us. It was really nice to just bond and relax, while still getting to know more about the people and customs of El Salvador. And while climbing up real steep hills and trudging through cornfields.
After we returned from our adventures throughout the town, the two groups (remember them from the beginning of this story?) met back up for lunch. We played a bit with the kids, and then it started to rain. I am not sure if it is always this wet in El Salvador, but it has rained every single day I have been here. And not just a little pitter-patter, but a the-world-is-ending-find-your-ark sort of downpour.
Because we didn’t want to get stuck in a mud slide, or something along those lines, we had to leave. So, I never really got to get to know the kids, which I supposed is a mixed blessing. On one hand, I wanted to know as many people as possible and be as well rounded as possible, but now I have less people to say good bye to on Monday (which is really soon).
For the rest of the afternoon, we just hung out around the house; Kat and I used the pila to do a whole lot of laundry. After dinner, I got really bad heart burn, and had to suffer through a not so great movie.
Oh well, it helped me understand this whole fascination with Oscar Ramero that all of the people here have...
After the movie, we had reflection, and it was all very moving. One of my new friends Colette, brought up something that really struck home for me--she was talking about the differences in opportunity that the children in the United State have, compared to the children here. We in the United States take for granted living in a safe, fostering environment; having good schools; have opportunities to better ourselves. Thinking about this made me cry--I have so many good things in my life, that the people I have met this week could never imagine, and I abuse them, and take them for granted.
Sleep tight Angel Faces
Sofia
P.S. Thank you for all of your kind comments, and I am sorry I don't have the time to respond to them all.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 5
Well, today was rather uneventful, and right now we are having a girl's cub pow wow, so tomorrow i will write more...
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day Four in 1224 words
First of all, I am really confused about how this week has gone by SO fast. For some reason, in my mind, it is still tuesday. We have just been doing so much all of the time that everything is blending together into one giant memory and one giant day. I was looking through with my photos today with one of the little salvadorian girls, and I was like, “WOW, I don’t even remember this happening.” So hopefully this bloggy business will help me remember stuff later.
Today we had our first real illness in the house: two of the boys have some sort of stomach virus/dehydration issue/they-drank-the-water-and-are-now-dying thing. They seem to be okay-ish now, but they had to miss out on some, if not all, of the day’s activities.
Today, I again went to Zaragosa (I have decided this is how you spell it...). It was just a half day of work--we had to clean up and leave by 1:15. So, we tried to make the most of the morning. I spent most of the time teaching the small children how to make god’s eyes. You know, those weird yarny things that everyone made in third grade. With the popsicle sticks, and the wrapping, and the colors.
SIDE NOTE: I am actually typing this outside, because the weather is nicer and I (hopefully) have enough battery, and there is the weirdest noise just outside the gate of the compound. I am pretty sure it is some sort of bird, but it might be a dog. Or a rooster, for all I know. END SIDE NOTE
Well, the god’s eyes were a little frustrating, because none of the kids learned how to make them very quickly, and I had a lot of trouble remember what the instructions were in spanish. I eventually just ended up making some for the really little kids, while the more fluent speakers (and the more patient non-speakers), helped the older kids make them on their own. I did get really good at asking people if they wanted more colors, and telling them they needed to tie them. ALL IN SPANISH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
My spanish is getting a lot better/natural as this trip goes on; I haven’t really learned many new words (with the exception of cortar, to cut), but I find it easier to create sentences more quickly.
After I got bored of making gods eyes, I went to help with the construction of the guardaria. I was added to the team of concrete-ers and mortar-ers. Basically, I followed the head construction guy, Don Miguel (a different one from Tuesday) around and put concrete in bricks and mortar in between the. It was actually kind of enjoyable, because I could actually see how I was helping make something that would make these people’s lives better.
After I finished with the mortaring, I changed my bandage, and then stood around and felt pretty useless. All of the kids were being taken care of, and I didn’t really want to go an muss up my bandage again. So I just sat there, and felt pretty useless. But, pretty soon, it was time for lunch, all the kids went away, and everyone sat down and chatted.
After lunch we played a fantastic game of soccer. It was mostly fantastic because we won, but also, I actually KICKED the ball. It was grand.
During the game, it began sprinkling on and off, but we were all hot and sweaty, so no one really cared. Right after we finished playing, however, the rain began to pick up again, and we headed for cover under a near-by roof. Within seconds of everyone and everything getting under cover, the sky opened up, and it began to pour. This rain was harder and faster and more-er than any other rain I have ever seen. It was absolutely fantastic.
While we were avoiding the downpour, everyone: the kids, the voulenteers, the local workers chatted and talked and played together. Laura, Katie and I hung out with one little girl, Tiana (or Tatiana) for most of time time. Sadly, Helen, my friend for the day before was doing something; I think Tiana said that she was at her house, but I wasn’t really sure of what she said or meant. We spent most of the time with her teaching her hand clapping games, and taking pictures. I took lots and lots of pictures of the rain, and the small children, and everything. It was really rather magical.
After an hour or so of rain, we realized that we had to just suck it up and walk back to the bus--we were already at hour late. We trudged through the downpour and got completely soaked.
The bus ride was wet and sticky and cold. We had less people than yesterday, and we spent most of the time just chatting and telling stories. Eventually we ran out of things to say, and we began to play 20 questions, which quickly morphed into what the youth minister of one of the other groups, John, called 100 questions.
It’s a hard game when you are playing with people you don’t know and really hard objects.
We had a half day today (remember me mentioning that?) because after lunch, we went to a local university, where in 1989, six jesuit priests and their housekeeper and her daughter were brutally murdered. It all had the potential to be very interesting--these priests are VERY important to the local Catholics--but I just couldn’t find it very intriguing or even particularly moving. It was probably a combination that I had no prior knowledge of anything they were talking about, I am not Catholic, and I was really cold and really tired. And the tour was really long. It all made me sort of feel like and alien robot, but I got over it.
After the tour, we played more 100 questions, and headed back to the compound. I ran for the shower, hoping it would be warm and inviting and make me feel better/ more human. But it was just what I knew it would be--cold and sort of sticky. After everyone was clean-ish, we broke off into little groups and just hung out. I spent some time with the new people I have met, making sure the people who were sick were okay, and some time just relaxing and playing games. We never played pictionary today, but we did break out the Phase Ten and Sorry and about 394234 other games that we never actually started playing.
For dinner, we had tacos, and the girls and my table and I talked about imagining people complexly and seeing other people’s points of view. It was all very nice.
After dinner, I spent 30 minutes looking for my computer charger, because my computer is in high demand, and it had moved 847543 places. It turns out my charger was hiding in my clothes, disguised as some sort of pants pocket or something.
It was a lovely day.
I am tired (surprise, surprise)
I really should go to bed.
And my battery is about to run out.
This seems like a pattern.
Hasta Luego,
Sofia
Today we had our first real illness in the house: two of the boys have some sort of stomach virus/dehydration issue/they-drank-the-water-and-are-now-dying thing. They seem to be okay-ish now, but they had to miss out on some, if not all, of the day’s activities.
Today, I again went to Zaragosa (I have decided this is how you spell it...). It was just a half day of work--we had to clean up and leave by 1:15. So, we tried to make the most of the morning. I spent most of the time teaching the small children how to make god’s eyes. You know, those weird yarny things that everyone made in third grade. With the popsicle sticks, and the wrapping, and the colors.
SIDE NOTE: I am actually typing this outside, because the weather is nicer and I (hopefully) have enough battery, and there is the weirdest noise just outside the gate of the compound. I am pretty sure it is some sort of bird, but it might be a dog. Or a rooster, for all I know. END SIDE NOTE
Well, the god’s eyes were a little frustrating, because none of the kids learned how to make them very quickly, and I had a lot of trouble remember what the instructions were in spanish. I eventually just ended up making some for the really little kids, while the more fluent speakers (and the more patient non-speakers), helped the older kids make them on their own. I did get really good at asking people if they wanted more colors, and telling them they needed to tie them. ALL IN SPANISH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
My spanish is getting a lot better/natural as this trip goes on; I haven’t really learned many new words (with the exception of cortar, to cut), but I find it easier to create sentences more quickly.
After I got bored of making gods eyes, I went to help with the construction of the guardaria. I was added to the team of concrete-ers and mortar-ers. Basically, I followed the head construction guy, Don Miguel (a different one from Tuesday) around and put concrete in bricks and mortar in between the. It was actually kind of enjoyable, because I could actually see how I was helping make something that would make these people’s lives better.
After I finished with the mortaring, I changed my bandage, and then stood around and felt pretty useless. All of the kids were being taken care of, and I didn’t really want to go an muss up my bandage again. So I just sat there, and felt pretty useless. But, pretty soon, it was time for lunch, all the kids went away, and everyone sat down and chatted.
After lunch we played a fantastic game of soccer. It was mostly fantastic because we won, but also, I actually KICKED the ball. It was grand.
During the game, it began sprinkling on and off, but we were all hot and sweaty, so no one really cared. Right after we finished playing, however, the rain began to pick up again, and we headed for cover under a near-by roof. Within seconds of everyone and everything getting under cover, the sky opened up, and it began to pour. This rain was harder and faster and more-er than any other rain I have ever seen. It was absolutely fantastic.
While we were avoiding the downpour, everyone: the kids, the voulenteers, the local workers chatted and talked and played together. Laura, Katie and I hung out with one little girl, Tiana (or Tatiana) for most of time time. Sadly, Helen, my friend for the day before was doing something; I think Tiana said that she was at her house, but I wasn’t really sure of what she said or meant. We spent most of the time with her teaching her hand clapping games, and taking pictures. I took lots and lots of pictures of the rain, and the small children, and everything. It was really rather magical.
After an hour or so of rain, we realized that we had to just suck it up and walk back to the bus--we were already at hour late. We trudged through the downpour and got completely soaked.
The bus ride was wet and sticky and cold. We had less people than yesterday, and we spent most of the time just chatting and telling stories. Eventually we ran out of things to say, and we began to play 20 questions, which quickly morphed into what the youth minister of one of the other groups, John, called 100 questions.
It’s a hard game when you are playing with people you don’t know and really hard objects.
We had a half day today (remember me mentioning that?) because after lunch, we went to a local university, where in 1989, six jesuit priests and their housekeeper and her daughter were brutally murdered. It all had the potential to be very interesting--these priests are VERY important to the local Catholics--but I just couldn’t find it very intriguing or even particularly moving. It was probably a combination that I had no prior knowledge of anything they were talking about, I am not Catholic, and I was really cold and really tired. And the tour was really long. It all made me sort of feel like and alien robot, but I got over it.
After the tour, we played more 100 questions, and headed back to the compound. I ran for the shower, hoping it would be warm and inviting and make me feel better/ more human. But it was just what I knew it would be--cold and sort of sticky. After everyone was clean-ish, we broke off into little groups and just hung out. I spent some time with the new people I have met, making sure the people who were sick were okay, and some time just relaxing and playing games. We never played pictionary today, but we did break out the Phase Ten and Sorry and about 394234 other games that we never actually started playing.
For dinner, we had tacos, and the girls and my table and I talked about imagining people complexly and seeing other people’s points of view. It was all very nice.
After dinner, I spent 30 minutes looking for my computer charger, because my computer is in high demand, and it had moved 847543 places. It turns out my charger was hiding in my clothes, disguised as some sort of pants pocket or something.
It was a lovely day.
I am tired (surprise, surprise)
I really should go to bed.
And my battery is about to run out.
This seems like a pattern.
Hasta Luego,
Sofia
Thursday, July 8, 2010
This post was three pages in Word...
Day Three
Today I went to Zaragoza (I am still not sure how to spell it, but I feel like that is slightly closer), where I helped with small children and lifted way to many heavy things.
Also, I fell and got a series of rather nasty-ish cuts, that I am praying (look at this mission, it is turning me into a praying gal) will not get infected. I have put about three thousand pounds of disinfectants and alcohol and such, and hopefully they will work their magic quickly.
The village of something-that-starts-with-a-z is farther way from Miguel’s house, but there more people in a bigger car on the ride over, so it was much more amusing. At this point, I still didn’t know most of the people (my friends were asleep, and all the other people are from Florida) and I was sufficiently awkward.
At one point they (all of the Florida-dites) were talking about awkward situations, and how much they hate them, and I just wanted to shout, “THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE!”
But that would have been awkward.
At the village (which will remain nameless) we began the day by hauling 60 cinderblocks up a hill, to where we are building the guardaria and bringing up some wooden table and chairs for the kids. I never actually entered the village proper, rather I stayed in the area that was a construction site and a soccer field and a daycare center. The children didn’t have school today (or so they say), so they weren’t at the site when we arrived and I was “forced” to help with the construction. I now know the difference between mortar and concrete (one doesn’t have gravel in it, one does) and know how to mix each, by hand.
Construction without machines is hard.
After I got bored of building things, and exerting actual physical effort, I went over to the children, where we were making yarn dolls. The children were so excited about the dolls and us and the coloring pages. They wanted to make them, and share them, and give them to other people. Well, they didn’t want to give the missionaries to other people, but still.
Yesterday, we had this sort of “reflection period” and all the people that went to the village (which shall remain nameless) talked about how different the kids were from American kids, and how it was so refreshing to see kids that could amuse themselves with so little for so long. I thought the exact opposite--what was so amazing for me was that they were kids, just like the ones at home, who were happy, excited and full of energy.
Maybe all the old people have some sort of disconnect with the modern youth or something like that...
We all played together, running around, playing catch, making crafts, reading stories and it was all good fun. Well until someone got hurt. I got hurt. We (Me and two or three of the little girls) were playing a game that began as a tickle fight, and ended up with a game like tag that involved running around and tagging other people and shouting “Mika” (which, it seems is what Mexicans/people in Central America call American green cards). As I was chasing after the impressively fast girls (Helen and Brenda, I believe), I lost my footing and took a tumble. I stood up and thought I was fine, until I realized that my leg was bleeding. I went over to the first aid kit, and Ms Kathy (Kari’s mom) helped me bandage up my leg. As I was washing off my leg, I realized that I had cut my hand, and then, Brenda pointed out that I had also cut my elbow. None of the cuts were particularly bad, but they were far enough apart, and in such awkward places that we had to use excessive amounts of both tape and bandaids to keep them covered.
We then had lunch.
After lunch, we played a fantastic game of soccer, the locals vs. the gringos (plus a few of the locals. We tied them (a rather fantastic feat in my book) and I actually was a help to the team, rather than a impediment (an even more fantastic feat). The final score: four to four.
After our soccer game, everyone got back to work. We had a new batch of kids, which meant more crafts, more games, and more names to remember. I really can only remember a few kid’s names: Lupe, Helen, Gabby (pronounced gavey), Oscar (everyone’s favorite), Cristobal, Brenda. Little kids are hard enough to understand, but it is even harder when they are speaking in a language you don’t really understand in a dialect that is different than what you learned. the El Salvadorian accent is much different than the Spanish-from-the-country-spain one and the Mexican one, and they use two additional subjects with different verb conjugations (vostoros and vos) that are not taught in most U.S. schools. So it was difficult, but better than yesterday. Probably because I know words about toys and body parts and drawing pictures, and not about building houses.
But, it is what it is.
Eventually, one girl, Helen, became permanently attached to me. It was probably because she wanted me to give her my necklace and/or my headband, but I will choose to remember it as (flashbulb memory ftw) her just really liking me. When it was time to go, she wouldn’t let me go, no matter how many times I told her I had to go (Nessisito salir), she just wouldn’t let go of my hand. So I let her walk with me up to the bus, and told her I would see her tomorrow.
Hopefully that happens
When we got back, the showers filled up too quickly, so some of my new-found friends and I sat around and talked and complained about being too lazy to actually go anywhere. We eventually got our act together, and walked the 30 feet to the dining room, and gorged ourselves on chips and salsa. I then took a shower, played pictionary, and got ready for dinner.
Dinner was the absolutely delicious dish that involved cheese, squash (which made it “healthy”) and deep-fat frying. It was real good.
For dessert we had banana bread pudding, and surprisingly, because I hate both banana bread and bread pudding, I thought it was disgusting.
After dinner, there was a woman from the U.S. embassy who came and spoke to us about what she does, and about political issues in El Salvador, and all this really interesting stuff about emigration and immigration and visas and gangs and communists. She also had a Baltimore accent, and had gone to UMBC, so it was a little good-old b-more charm.
Her speech was also over two hours long.
After the never-ending speech, we played lots of pictionary, and I made lots of new friends.
And now I have to go, because the lights were literally just turned off, and i am going to have to find my bed in the dark...
Adios.
Sofia
Today I went to Zaragoza (I am still not sure how to spell it, but I feel like that is slightly closer), where I helped with small children and lifted way to many heavy things.
Also, I fell and got a series of rather nasty-ish cuts, that I am praying (look at this mission, it is turning me into a praying gal) will not get infected. I have put about three thousand pounds of disinfectants and alcohol and such, and hopefully they will work their magic quickly.
The village of something-that-starts-with-a-z is farther way from Miguel’s house, but there more people in a bigger car on the ride over, so it was much more amusing. At this point, I still didn’t know most of the people (my friends were asleep, and all the other people are from Florida) and I was sufficiently awkward.
At one point they (all of the Florida-dites) were talking about awkward situations, and how much they hate them, and I just wanted to shout, “THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE!”
But that would have been awkward.
At the village (which will remain nameless) we began the day by hauling 60 cinderblocks up a hill, to where we are building the guardaria and bringing up some wooden table and chairs for the kids. I never actually entered the village proper, rather I stayed in the area that was a construction site and a soccer field and a daycare center. The children didn’t have school today (or so they say), so they weren’t at the site when we arrived and I was “forced” to help with the construction. I now know the difference between mortar and concrete (one doesn’t have gravel in it, one does) and know how to mix each, by hand.
Construction without machines is hard.
After I got bored of building things, and exerting actual physical effort, I went over to the children, where we were making yarn dolls. The children were so excited about the dolls and us and the coloring pages. They wanted to make them, and share them, and give them to other people. Well, they didn’t want to give the missionaries to other people, but still.
Yesterday, we had this sort of “reflection period” and all the people that went to the village (which shall remain nameless) talked about how different the kids were from American kids, and how it was so refreshing to see kids that could amuse themselves with so little for so long. I thought the exact opposite--what was so amazing for me was that they were kids, just like the ones at home, who were happy, excited and full of energy.
Maybe all the old people have some sort of disconnect with the modern youth or something like that...
We all played together, running around, playing catch, making crafts, reading stories and it was all good fun. Well until someone got hurt. I got hurt. We (Me and two or three of the little girls) were playing a game that began as a tickle fight, and ended up with a game like tag that involved running around and tagging other people and shouting “Mika” (which, it seems is what Mexicans/people in Central America call American green cards). As I was chasing after the impressively fast girls (Helen and Brenda, I believe), I lost my footing and took a tumble. I stood up and thought I was fine, until I realized that my leg was bleeding. I went over to the first aid kit, and Ms Kathy (Kari’s mom) helped me bandage up my leg. As I was washing off my leg, I realized that I had cut my hand, and then, Brenda pointed out that I had also cut my elbow. None of the cuts were particularly bad, but they were far enough apart, and in such awkward places that we had to use excessive amounts of both tape and bandaids to keep them covered.
We then had lunch.
After lunch, we played a fantastic game of soccer, the locals vs. the gringos (plus a few of the locals. We tied them (a rather fantastic feat in my book) and I actually was a help to the team, rather than a impediment (an even more fantastic feat). The final score: four to four.
After our soccer game, everyone got back to work. We had a new batch of kids, which meant more crafts, more games, and more names to remember. I really can only remember a few kid’s names: Lupe, Helen, Gabby (pronounced gavey), Oscar (everyone’s favorite), Cristobal, Brenda. Little kids are hard enough to understand, but it is even harder when they are speaking in a language you don’t really understand in a dialect that is different than what you learned. the El Salvadorian accent is much different than the Spanish-from-the-country-spain one and the Mexican one, and they use two additional subjects with different verb conjugations (vostoros and vos) that are not taught in most U.S. schools. So it was difficult, but better than yesterday. Probably because I know words about toys and body parts and drawing pictures, and not about building houses.
But, it is what it is.
Eventually, one girl, Helen, became permanently attached to me. It was probably because she wanted me to give her my necklace and/or my headband, but I will choose to remember it as (flashbulb memory ftw) her just really liking me. When it was time to go, she wouldn’t let me go, no matter how many times I told her I had to go (Nessisito salir), she just wouldn’t let go of my hand. So I let her walk with me up to the bus, and told her I would see her tomorrow.
Hopefully that happens
When we got back, the showers filled up too quickly, so some of my new-found friends and I sat around and talked and complained about being too lazy to actually go anywhere. We eventually got our act together, and walked the 30 feet to the dining room, and gorged ourselves on chips and salsa. I then took a shower, played pictionary, and got ready for dinner.
Dinner was the absolutely delicious dish that involved cheese, squash (which made it “healthy”) and deep-fat frying. It was real good.
For dessert we had banana bread pudding, and surprisingly, because I hate both banana bread and bread pudding, I thought it was disgusting.
After dinner, there was a woman from the U.S. embassy who came and spoke to us about what she does, and about political issues in El Salvador, and all this really interesting stuff about emigration and immigration and visas and gangs and communists. She also had a Baltimore accent, and had gone to UMBC, so it was a little good-old b-more charm.
Her speech was also over two hours long.
After the never-ending speech, we played lots of pictionary, and I made lots of new friends.
And now I have to go, because the lights were literally just turned off, and i am going to have to find my bed in the dark...
Adios.
Sofia
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
El Salvador, Day 2
Day 2.
Today was our first day of actually, honest-to-god work. We woke up to the beautiful noise of a horn being blowed at 7 AM. We then rushed around trying to get ready, and then realized, ant 7:20, that we still have 40 minutes to enjoy ourselves. So I ate a breakfast of peanut butter toast, and made myself and oh-so-healthy lunch of Nutella and Marshmallow Fluff and way to many Luna bars.
We then divided into our work groups: some when to a local village (which sounds like “Sarasosa”, but I am pretty sure is spelled with a z) to construct a gaurdaria (or daycare center) and amuse some kids, others went to another local village to amuse small children and assist the local nurses, and my friends and I went with one of the leaders, Fiona, to a third village to help finish a house.
The house belongs to Don Miguel, one of the employees of the volunteer house. His house was destroyed by Hurricane Ida, which was probably a blessing. According to Sister Gloria, the coordinator of our trip, the old house was in shambles: one morning, Miguel’s mother woke up screaming--there were two rats in her bed.
So, a group of students from Villa Nova University has raised the funds to create Miguel and his family a new, and much improved house. The new house will have an inside toilet, strong walls and roofs, and all sorts of fun things.
Today, we were helping paint the house a beautiful turquoise blue. All of the houses here, though many are little more than wood and tarps, are bright and colorful. Miguel’s house seemed large, in comparison to the surrounding houses, but it could have probably fit into a half of the first floor of my house. Hopefully, when it is not after lights one, I will be able to locate my camera in the dormitory and insert some pictures here.
Working with Miguel and his family was fantastic. Miguel is a jokester, and repetitively snuck up behind us and attempted to scare us (Of course, I jumped every time). His mother and step-father we wandering around, giving advise, warning us to stay away from the vicious rabbit, and keeping the large masses of chickens in check.
Here in El Salvador, there are both chickens and dogs everywhere in the small villages. None of them are contained (or neutered) so the just spread all over everything.
At the worksite/house there were also a number of children. Some of them were village children, and some of them were Miguel’s children and nieces and nephews (the language barrier kept me from actually figuring this out). We would take a half hour break from sawing, painting, and sanding to hang out with the village children. We made leis with them, and colored pictures. I had a lot of trouble communicating with them, but I got by with the three words that I could remember from Spanish class (Okay, it might have been 30). I was able to understand what they were saying most of the time, I just could never remember the right words to say back to them. It was still enjoyable, and they enjoyed my camera, and learning how to play tic-tac-toe, and singing german songs with Fiona.
There was one boy, Kevin, who I believe was related to Miguel in some way or another. He was wandering around when we arrived, and looked at us timidly for about 15 minutes when we arrived. He then quietly took a paint brush, and pretended to paint. Kat then asked him if he would like to paint with us, and he instantly turned into our little helper. He would gesture what needed to be done and climb up onto places where we couldn’t reach. He also knew all of the words to all of the songs on the spanish/american radio station we were listening to.
We worked from around nine in the morning until noon, when we braked for lunch. We then took an hour, ate lunch and chatted.
After lunch we returned to painting, and quickly realized that there wasn’t much left to paint. So, Miguel sized up our muscles, and choose me and Laura to saw metal pieces stuck out of the cinderblock walls.
It was really hard, and now have a new-found appreciation for power tools.
Half-way through our second or third peg, Miguel showed us a secret--he had a tool that would break the pegs, if we sawed more than half-way through it. His step-father, who only has one arm, then hovered about, making sure we were doing in correctly. He understood no english, and spoke spanish so complexly that I couldn’t understand what he said, but we were a happy little team.
After killing my self sawing those lovely little pegs, I climbed upon a rather sketchy ladder and finished painting.
We then left and came home, 6 people in a 5 person car (seat-belts aren’t really a big deal here) and showered. I then washed my own clothes on a pila (I think that is what it is called...) which is this complex sink-like thing, that really is just a basin and a stone shelf.
We then have dinner of rice and beans (damn being vegetarian) and played soccer and bonded and reflected and played pictionary and stayed up too late typing blog entries.
Wait, that last one was just me.
Sorry if the end is rushed and the grammar is bad, but I have to be up in 7 hours, and I think I am the last one awake and my battery has 5 minutes left...
Sophie
Today was our first day of actually, honest-to-god work. We woke up to the beautiful noise of a horn being blowed at 7 AM. We then rushed around trying to get ready, and then realized, ant 7:20, that we still have 40 minutes to enjoy ourselves. So I ate a breakfast of peanut butter toast, and made myself and oh-so-healthy lunch of Nutella and Marshmallow Fluff and way to many Luna bars.
We then divided into our work groups: some when to a local village (which sounds like “Sarasosa”, but I am pretty sure is spelled with a z) to construct a gaurdaria (or daycare center) and amuse some kids, others went to another local village to amuse small children and assist the local nurses, and my friends and I went with one of the leaders, Fiona, to a third village to help finish a house.
The house belongs to Don Miguel, one of the employees of the volunteer house. His house was destroyed by Hurricane Ida, which was probably a blessing. According to Sister Gloria, the coordinator of our trip, the old house was in shambles: one morning, Miguel’s mother woke up screaming--there were two rats in her bed.
So, a group of students from Villa Nova University has raised the funds to create Miguel and his family a new, and much improved house. The new house will have an inside toilet, strong walls and roofs, and all sorts of fun things.
Today, we were helping paint the house a beautiful turquoise blue. All of the houses here, though many are little more than wood and tarps, are bright and colorful. Miguel’s house seemed large, in comparison to the surrounding houses, but it could have probably fit into a half of the first floor of my house. Hopefully, when it is not after lights one, I will be able to locate my camera in the dormitory and insert some pictures here.
Working with Miguel and his family was fantastic. Miguel is a jokester, and repetitively snuck up behind us and attempted to scare us (Of course, I jumped every time). His mother and step-father we wandering around, giving advise, warning us to stay away from the vicious rabbit, and keeping the large masses of chickens in check.
Here in El Salvador, there are both chickens and dogs everywhere in the small villages. None of them are contained (or neutered) so the just spread all over everything.
At the worksite/house there were also a number of children. Some of them were village children, and some of them were Miguel’s children and nieces and nephews (the language barrier kept me from actually figuring this out). We would take a half hour break from sawing, painting, and sanding to hang out with the village children. We made leis with them, and colored pictures. I had a lot of trouble communicating with them, but I got by with the three words that I could remember from Spanish class (Okay, it might have been 30). I was able to understand what they were saying most of the time, I just could never remember the right words to say back to them. It was still enjoyable, and they enjoyed my camera, and learning how to play tic-tac-toe, and singing german songs with Fiona.
There was one boy, Kevin, who I believe was related to Miguel in some way or another. He was wandering around when we arrived, and looked at us timidly for about 15 minutes when we arrived. He then quietly took a paint brush, and pretended to paint. Kat then asked him if he would like to paint with us, and he instantly turned into our little helper. He would gesture what needed to be done and climb up onto places where we couldn’t reach. He also knew all of the words to all of the songs on the spanish/american radio station we were listening to.
We worked from around nine in the morning until noon, when we braked for lunch. We then took an hour, ate lunch and chatted.
After lunch we returned to painting, and quickly realized that there wasn’t much left to paint. So, Miguel sized up our muscles, and choose me and Laura to saw metal pieces stuck out of the cinderblock walls.
It was really hard, and now have a new-found appreciation for power tools.
Half-way through our second or third peg, Miguel showed us a secret--he had a tool that would break the pegs, if we sawed more than half-way through it. His step-father, who only has one arm, then hovered about, making sure we were doing in correctly. He understood no english, and spoke spanish so complexly that I couldn’t understand what he said, but we were a happy little team.
After killing my self sawing those lovely little pegs, I climbed upon a rather sketchy ladder and finished painting.
We then left and came home, 6 people in a 5 person car (seat-belts aren’t really a big deal here) and showered. I then washed my own clothes on a pila (I think that is what it is called...) which is this complex sink-like thing, that really is just a basin and a stone shelf.
We then have dinner of rice and beans (damn being vegetarian) and played soccer and bonded and reflected and played pictionary and stayed up too late typing blog entries.
Wait, that last one was just me.
Sorry if the end is rushed and the grammar is bad, but I have to be up in 7 hours, and I think I am the last one awake and my battery has 5 minutes left...
Sophie
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day one (ish)
Well, I currently are flying above the United States at 36,000 feet (or something like that) I am sleep deprived, and running on 4 packs of Dora the Explorer gummies and half a Quodoba burrito that I ate at the ungodly hour of 7:30 AM. It was a rather nice breakfast.
Laura, who is sitting next to me, is keeping track of her adventures with a sort of fervent diligence; she has already written at least a half of a page about the airplane trip, or the kind of soda she is drinking or something. She also keeps trying to read over my shoulder.
So, yes, my trip is going just fine.
I am going to attempt to take a nap now, and maybe I will work up the courage to yell at the small child behind me...
-------
I cannot form coherent thoughts, but here I go...
Well, I have now washed the dishes of 40 people. It took over an hour.
I also took a “tour” of the city of San Salvadore. By tour, i mean, our bus driver drove us around the city at about 90 miles an hour. I was able to capture a feeling of the city. It was nice.
We then climbed up a mountain and looked at lots and lots of flags.
Etc.
tired.
Need to sleep.
Etc.
Sophie
Laura, who is sitting next to me, is keeping track of her adventures with a sort of fervent diligence; she has already written at least a half of a page about the airplane trip, or the kind of soda she is drinking or something. She also keeps trying to read over my shoulder.
OH HEY LAURA! HOW IS YOUR TRIP GOING?
Well, my trip is going fine, except for the fact that I only got three hours of sleep. And there is a small child incessantly beating on the back of my chair like it is some sort of rhythmic drum. And I have a headache from the constantly changing cabin pressures. And we just hit turbulence and there are still two hours and 15 minutes left of this flight. And customs forms are really hard to fill out. So, yes, my trip is going just fine.
I am going to attempt to take a nap now, and maybe I will work up the courage to yell at the small child behind me...
-------
I cannot form coherent thoughts, but here I go...
Well, I have now washed the dishes of 40 people. It took over an hour.
I also took a “tour” of the city of San Salvadore. By tour, i mean, our bus driver drove us around the city at about 90 miles an hour. I was able to capture a feeling of the city. It was nice.
We then climbed up a mountain and looked at lots and lots of flags.
Etc.
tired.
Need to sleep.
Etc.
Sophie
Monday, July 5, 2010
Packing?
So, I may be writing this blog post just to procrastinate from packing, but we are all going to pretend that it is because I love blogging more than anything, and in my many months of absence, all I have been doing is wishing my little fingers were making that pleasant typing-on-a-keyboard noise.
tappity-tappity-tap-tap, etc.
Well, tomorrow I am off on a great adventure into the wild land of Central America. My friends Kat and Kari and Laura and I are going on a mission trip to El Salvador. And since that is bound to be more interesting than my day-to-day summer life of play rehearsal and drivers ed and searching the internet for the perfect pair of vintage shorts, I thought I might as well begin blogging again.
So, if all goes as planned, I will be utilizing the wireless connection at the volunteer house to document my adventure and such. So look forward to that.
But, right now, I am supposed to be packing. I have known about this trip for at least three months, and it still hasn't hit me that i am leaving the country tomorrow, in less that 12 hours. I have just been so busy with other things that i haven't really thought about packing.
And I just looked at the clock.
Panic attack begins now.
Sophie
tappity-tappity-tap-tap, etc.
Well, tomorrow I am off on a great adventure into the wild land of Central America. My friends Kat and Kari and Laura and I are going on a mission trip to El Salvador. And since that is bound to be more interesting than my day-to-day summer life of play rehearsal and drivers ed and searching the internet for the perfect pair of vintage shorts, I thought I might as well begin blogging again.
So, if all goes as planned, I will be utilizing the wireless connection at the volunteer house to document my adventure and such. So look forward to that.
But, right now, I am supposed to be packing. I have known about this trip for at least three months, and it still hasn't hit me that i am leaving the country tomorrow, in less that 12 hours. I have just been so busy with other things that i haven't really thought about packing.
And I just looked at the clock.
Panic attack begins now.
Sophie
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