From Nomadicism to Northern La Union

You may be wondering why I haven’t written in over a month, asking yourself what have I been doing that’s so much better than sitting down in front of my laptop to share my experiences so you can all live vicariously through me (more like providing more reasons why you won’t be visiting, right)? Well, the answer is as big as Volcán Chichontepeque. So, strap on your reading glasses. This is going to be a long one.

Site Selection
As a volunteer in Peace Corps El Salvador, site assignments are a lot like a game of roulette. You tell your APCD (program boss) the things that are most important to you in a site, placing your bets on things such as being a first volunteer or replacing a departing volunteer, being in a community with a large school, having a market easily accessible, and even in some cases being as remote as possible without electricity or running water Castaway style. The odds are usually stacked in your favor, and the stakes are low. The reality of the matter is, as a PCT with less than two months in country, you really have no idea what you want, and ultimately what you think is of utmost important in a site has little or no impact on your overall happiness. Your APCD, with their vast knowledge of the country and experience with hundreds of volunteers over the years, has a better idea of where to place you to enable success. That’s the case about 95% of the time.

The other 5% of the time though, when things just don’t work out in a volunteer’s site for reasons of health, questions of security, or, as in my case, programmatic reasons, volunteers take a more active role in their transfer site selection. Having had experience in a community, volunteers changing sites know what is important for them to have a fulfilling, successful service. In my case, work opportunities and the ability to successfully establish the Ag Business Program are most important to me.

My boss, Rolando, and his assistant, Carlos, took extra care in finding my new site, and included me in the entire process. Though it took far longer than I anticipate, and far longer than I would have liked, from my first few days in my new site, it seems to have been well worth it.

Rolando and Carlos began my site search by following up on a contact made by fellow Ag Biz Volunteer, Brock, by way of his counterpart organization. After his own site change, he was paired with an agricultural cooperative, which happens to be a participating cooperative in the UN’s World Food Program. When Brock started at his cooperative, he had no idea the WFP was involved, as is the case with so many relationships between counterpart and collaborating organizations. Sometimes volunteers don’t know about them until a representative shows up in their site. Anyway, the representative of WFP was very interested in Brock’s participation in the cooperative and was even more interested in involving other PCVs with other WFP cooperatives. So, contact was made between the PC powers that be and the WFP representative, several meetings were held to establish Peace Corps ES’ relationship with WFP ES, how they would work together, and eventually three WFP partnering cooperatives were identified as potential PCV sites.

Carlos, who is generally responsible for site development, took on the task of checking out these three sites, one of which I would eventually call home. The search began at a cooperative in the Western Region, very near the site of my good friend, Axel, and near one of El Salvador’s three national parks. Both Rolando and Carlos thought this would be a great option because I would be able to stay in the Western Region, and would be near a trusted friend, making this difficult transition a little easier. I was unable to go with Carlos on this particular site visit because I was attending my, then current, region’s safety and security conference, so I would be trusting Carlos’ judgment on this one.

After the visit, Carlos gave me a call (saving me precious saldo) to give me the run down. He went on an on about acres upon acres of cafetales (coffee land), coffee commercialization and export opportunities, a restaurant with a scenic outlook, tourism potential… My mind was racing about all the potential projects, and just as I opened my mouth to say, “Awesome! When I can visit? Should I start packing my bags?” Carlos dropped the f-bomb. No, no. Not that f-bomb. One much worse: “Fijáte.” The Salvador, “Well…you see…”. Nothing good ever follows the f-bomb.

Part of the site development process, along with gauging the interest of the potential counterpart organization, living conditions and the like, a security check is done. Carlos paid a little visit to the local PNC, Policia Naciónal Civil, to get their assessment of safety in the zone. As it turn out, because the site was located on the road to the national park and because it was so scenic and a bit off the beaten path, the police recommended the site for a male volunteer. Point being, this site was out of the question for the tall, blonde haired, blue-eyed, chele gringita. Of course, hearing this from Carlos was a hard pill to swallow. There is nothing more frustrating than being told you can’t do something based purely on your gender and outward appearance. But, swallow the pill I did, realizing that this decision was for my own safety and well-being.

So, instead of dwelling on what could have been, the next words out of my mouth were, “¿Y ahora? ¿Donde vamos?” Where to now? Carlos’ answer was less than enthusiastic. One of the cooperatives identified by WFP was out East in La Union, quite literally on the opposite side of the country and pretty much as far away from my original site as I could possibly get. Instead of being 25 kilometers from Guatemala, I would be 25 kilometers from Honduras. Rolando and Carlos were a little reluctant to even look out East because they really wanted me to stay in the Western Region in order to maintain contacts that I had made during my first ten months of service. With that being said, I explained to both my bosses that location didn’t matter to me. I am going to maintain the relationships I have made and that are important to me regardless of where I am placed. What matters most now is the work. They were both reassured at how certain I was about a potential transnational move and scheduled the visit.

Because this next potential site is so far away it would have been nearly impossible for me to travel from my original site to the capital, meet up with Carlos and then drive another five hours eastward to La Union to properly site develop in one day. Naturally, Carlos and I devised a master plan. During the week, Carlos lives in the capital, but on the weekends he returns to his family and home in the department of Morazan, a mere two hour drive from where we will be visiting. My friend and Regional Leader, Matt, also happened to live in the same municipality as Carlos and his family. (Matt has since returned to the States and our PC Men’s soccer team will never be the same.) With our visit scheduled for Monday morning, I travelled on Sunday to Mafia Territory, yet again, spent the night at Matt’s along with our fellow PCV Karl, who had just returned from the States, and was up, ready and rearing to go early Monday morning.

Regional Leaders’ houses serve as cushy crash pads for traveling volunteers, so crash we did... As well as feast, chat, and aprovechar the internet connection. RLs, generally third year extended service volunteers, live in centrally located pueblos, in very nice housing conditions. And by nice, I mean Matt’s house had high speed internet, a side-by-side refrigerator, living room with multiple couches, and the holy grail of holy grails, an oven. Karl, fresh off the boat (uh, plane) from the States and re-acclimated to delicious cuisine not consisting of beans or corn, I, wanting to take full advantage of this Salvadoran Martha Stewart’s Dream Kitchen, and Matt, who was simply used to Peace Corps Light pueblo living, decided to make a feast. Karl had a craving for Italian and something meaty, so we decided Karl would make the meat sauce, and I would throw together an improvised, Salvadoran version of my Aunt Debbie’s famous lasagna. Matt would contribute the appetizer—homemade humus. Not exactly perfect complements, but they are both from the Mediterranean, right?

Dairy here in El Salvador is a little lackluster, so I had to get creative with the cheeses. Instead of ricotta cheese, I used requeson, instead of melty cheddar quesillo fit the bill, but I did splurge and buy the processed mozerella. In the end, with Karl’s manly, meaty red sauce, the lasagna turned out as well as I could have hoped: bubbly, cheesy and delicious.

The meal itself was extravagant enough, but it didn’t end with the humus and lasagna. All the way back in January, I received a surprise package from my, well I don’t exactly know how to describe our relationship other than surrogate aunt, Janet. Inside I was ecstatic to find bars of dark chocolate, a card including photos (which I love…please send more!), and a box of Ghiaradelli Dark Chocolate Brownie Mix. Because I had no oven at my original site, I had literally been toting around this box of brownie mix for three months in my backpack, just waiting to stumble across an oven and have the chance to bake. Finally, opportunity came knocking and we ended an awesome meal with mind blowing brownies. All I have to say is THANKS, JANET! The brownies were well worth the wait.

Monday morning, after waking from humus-lasagna-brownie induced food coma, Carlos and I were off. We arrived at Cooperativa ACOCACPAL de R.L., a really long acronym that basically means Cooperative Association of Savings and Credit for Agriculturalists. We were greeted by ten members of the cooperative and began the meeting right away. We all introduced ourselves, Carlos explained what Peace Corps is from his perspective, he had me describe the role of a volunteer, and then the representatives of the cooperative shared about themselves, their cooperative, their understanding of Peace Corps, and why they wanted a volunteer. From everything that was being said, this cooperative seemed like a perfect fit. Being part of the WFP, they had a system of loans already in place, had many plans for future projects and income generating initiatives, they just expressed a great need to assistance in executing these projects, organization, and help locating additional funding and NGOs to continue moving forward. How perfect! The overall vibe and energy level of the members was great as well. They were all very energetic, vocal, and not full of the usual Salvadoran pena. To boot, half of their directive consists of women. AWESOME.

Carlos, Santos, the head of the cooperative, and I walked around the pueblo where the cooperative is located and talked to the PNC regarding security. The pueblo is an extremely safe community of about 10,000 people, a little bit off the beaten path, and generally pleasant. Carlos and I wrapped up our visit, and the last thing Santos said to me was, “¿Cuando puede empezar?” When can you start? This is my kind of place.

In the car ride back, Carlos and I were talking and reflecting on the visit. I told him that I really couldn’t explain it, but this site felt right. The people were welcoming, it didn’t matter to them that I was a female, and they have the ganas, the will, to work hard and get ‘er done. Carlos agreed, but before he would say ok to the move out east, he wanted to be sure I was making the right decision and for us to visit one more cooperative the following week.

Though I was nearly positive the next site visit was unnecessary, I agreed with Carlos that this move was a big decision to make and there is no reason not to be 100% sure I was making the right decision. So, the following week Carlos and I headed to the last potential site identified by WFP. From the start of the meeting, both Carlos and I looked at each other, and we could tell this was not only a wrong fit for me, but a wrong fit for any volunteer. Only two members of the directive were present, the president left fifteen minutes into the meeting, and generally speaking I didn’t feel welcomed. Carlos and I followed up with the local delegation of the PNC and determined that though the site itself is very safe, the road that leads to it is questionable and unsuitable for a volunteer.

Carlos and I headed back to the San Salvador office to discuss the next steps with Rolando. As can be expected we discussed the pros and cons of moving east, and as Rolando said—a little too much like my own father would have said, “You know, Rosellen, it’s hot. Damn hot.” In the end, regardless of the heat, I would be moving east. Once it was officially decided, the only emotion I can describe feeling is complete and utter relief. This whole move, leaving a community that I had committed myself to for two years, breaking that commitment, feeling as a failure for being unable to make it where I was assigned really placed a tremendous weight on my shoulders and left me feeling weak and helpless. With the decision made to move to a new site where I was actually wanted, where people were excited for me to come and work, and where there was work in relation to my program, I finally felt reanimated and rejuvenated.

Needless to say, I was ready to move the very next day, but of course that wasn’t even an option. Rolando wanted to call the cooperative personally, expound on a few more details of having a volunteer and to give them enough time to prepare for my arrival. Ok, fair enough. But, what this meant is that I would have to wait another entire two weeks to move. Why you ask? After the given week long grace period, our In Service Training was to be held. As Rolando saw it, and I had to agree, it would be silly to move me to my new site, be there for two days, and then need to return to the western part of the country for IST.

So, the move was scheduled for Tuesday, May 11th. Finally.

Editing and Dando Charlas
The prospect of waiting another two weeks to move seemed absolutely unbearable at first glance. It meant more living out of my backpack, more chicken bus travelling, but as Rolando and Carlos pointed out to me, the time would fly by. It always does. To boot, I had three days of editing my second issue of El Camino on the horizon, as well as needing to finish preparation for the first round of trainings Brock and I would be giving at our IST.

I went back to my site, explained to my host family and counterpart that my departure was imminent, and dealt with all the emotions involved with a break-up. Except unlike breaking up with a significant other, I was breaking up with an entire community, and as they saw it, it was anything but an amiable ending. I had to explain to them the situation, how I needed specific opportunities to successfully start the Ag Biz program. I pulled the classic “it’s not you it’s me”, trying to ease the blow as much as I could. The hardest person to tell for me, though, was my host grandma and best friend, Mama Chila. She naturally started to cry, began asking if my counterpart couldn’t make a phone call to my boss to change his mind, and whether there was anything I could do to stay. Of course I felt terribly guilty, leaving these people and these wonderful relationship, but as I tried to reassure Mama Chila, I would be back to visit. I will go back to visit the people. But for me, right now, I need move to be able to be successful in my work. Certainly, a huge part of Peace Corps is the relationships you make with other people, but for me that’s not the biggest part of what I want my service to be. I want to successfully develop the Ag Business program here in El Salvador, and have meaningful relationships.

After that series of very difficult explanations and washing a mountain of laundry, I packed my bag and headed to the capital to edit. There, I spent three days barred up in the PCV Lounge at our main office in San Sal revising the awesome submissions from members of my program and putting together the layout. Fueled by soy covered peanuts and countless Coke Zeros (there are no Sugar Free Red Bulls or wasabi peas to be had), I am proud to say this issue is even better than the last. If anyone is interested, let me know and I’d be more than happy to email you the PDF of this May’s issue of El Camino.

While in the capital, I happened upon a large group of fellow volunteers, all in the capital for various reasons from celebrating the completion of service to celebrating surviving their first month in site. As always, great company was shared, great times were had and we took full advantage of the plethora of food option, including sushi.

After another quick trip back to site to repack my backpack will clean clothes, it was off the La Escual Nacional de Agricultura, the ENA, for our In Service Training. We all arrived by lunchtime, and enjoyed our meal catching up with one another, some fellow volunteers whom we hadn’t seen since PST2 all the way back in November. Gosh, the time sure does fly by. Right after lunch, we got down to business beginning with a quick introduction about IST, a charla from Rolando on grant writing, and then it was show time: my turn! My charla was an hour-long training on funding and financing products, and basically how to convince people to want to give you money. (Thanks to my time at LIFT, formely NSP, as Bake Face’s protégé, I was more than prepared to give this training.) I was a little concerned that this training wouldn’t exactly excite fellow volunteers, but much to my pleasant surprise, it struck a perfect chord or resonance with my fellow PCVs. Everyone was extremely interested and very participative as well. Phew! My first training went off without a hitch and no one fell asleep.

The rest of IST seemed to float on by with nothing terribly remarkable happening, but we did learn some awesome ideas of potential projects to do in our sites including chicken farming, shampoo making and marmalade making. The highlight of training, though, had to be the Old Group vs. New Group Men’s Basketball Tournament where the New Group (my class of volunteers) dominated, and bowling the night of our last day of training. Be sure to check out my photos of bowling on Facebook. You won’t be able to decipher the lanes of San Sal from the lanes at TBC.

The Ambassador, The President and a New Home
Finally! It was time for the big move. On Monday morning, May 10th, I met my friendly Peace Corps Driver, Gerardo, in Chalchuapa to head up to my site to throw my things in the truck and head on eastbound. Much to my surprise, the ride that usually takes 45 minutes by bus up to my original site took a mere 12 in a Toyota Prado (the ultimate fútbol mom vehicle). With me being big old case of emotions, Gerardo helped me throw my things in the SUV while I choked back tears to say goodbye to my host family. Mama Chila was bawling, Niña Juana was tearful and Yefri was just plain mad at me. I really hate goodbyes.

Within two hours, Gerardo was helping me unload the truck at the Peace Corps office in San Sal. It was decided that I would spend Monday night in San Sal so Rolando and I could get an early start to La Union Tuesday morning. After clogging the entrance way to the APCDs’ offices, much like I used to dump all my belongings on the kitchen floor at my parents’ house and come to think of it still do when I visit, I headed up to chat with Rolando. He was on the phone when I knocked on his door, so he flagged me in. Once he hung up, he informed me that on the way to La Union tomorrow, we would be stopping at an event in La Paz and that the US Ambassador would be in attendance. Rolando couldn’t really tell me much about the event other than it started at 10AM and that fellow PCVs and married couple Matt and Helen would be attending, as well. Though we did have this slight detour, Rolando made certain to reassure me that there would be plenty of time to get to my new site. Bueno, está bien.

The following morning, Rolando and I packed up the truck with my all that my life consisted of in bags and boxes, picked up his wife and were on our way. Once we arrived in the pueblo where the event was to take place, we realized this event was far bigger than what we anticipated. Not only was the US Ambassador going to be in attendance, but so was the President of El Salvador himself, Mauricio Funes. Talk about a once in a service experience!

We met up with Matt and Helen and then made our way to the event. Being associated with the US Embassy, Rolando just flashed his Embassy ID and we were escorted to prime seating. Soon, the Ambassador arrived, along with the head of public affairs and the head of USAID El Salvador. Matt, Helen and I were very lucky to have the opportunity to chat with all three US officials, as well as several Salvadoran officials while we waited for the arrival of President Funes. The President has begun to get a reputation of being notoriously late, and this day was no different. One hour and forty minutes after the event was scheduled to begin, President Funes’ helicopter landed and he and his wife arrived.

This event was held to recognize the successes of FISDL, the Salvadoran Foundation for Local Development, and the additional $27 million dollars given by USAID to FISDL to counteract the destruction caused by November’s landslides brought on by Hurricane Ida. The Ambassador spoke, but the main attraction was President Funes’ speech. He focused on the importance of nonpartisan governing and focusing on the needs of rural citizens as the nation works towards further development. It was truly a wonderful opportunity listen to the President speak. Matt, Helen and I tried to get our photo with the President, and even asked the help of the Ambassador, but unfortunately the press swallowed up Mr. Funes before the Ambassador could ask him the favor. Oh, well. Maybe next time…

By the time the event wrapped up, it was nearly 1PM and Rolando and I still had at least three hours of driving ahead of us. My new counterpart told Rolando he could wait until 4PM for us to arrive, but any later than that and he’d have to begin his ride home. Unfortunately, there was no way we’d make it in time, so Rolando called my new counterpart, told them we’d arrive the next day, and we stayed the night in San Miguel. At this point in the game, what’s waiting 18 more hours? Especially when I got to see the President.

Wednesday, May 12th I finally arrived in my new site. We dropped my things off in my new home, which is still under construction in true Salvadoran style, but will be absolutely beautiful once complete, and met with my counterpart organization. Rolando got to know the cooperative a little better as well as the pueblo. When he left me, he thanked me profusely for my patients in the matter of my site change, gave me a hug and told me he felt like he was leaving his own daughter. We both laughed and he was on his way.

In the last few days, I have been getting to know the cooperative and learning as much as I can. It’s definitely going to be a long process, adjusting to a new place and getting to know people, making friends, but in the end it will be worth it. I have already been but to work making Excel documents and determining our current rate of return on loans made in the past twelve months. As you can imagine, I am feeling pretty good and feeling a little productive.

Weekends are going to be quiet, seeing as my cooperative isn’t open on Saturdays or Sundays, but I am lucky to have a good group of four other volunteers relatively close to me, and with whom I can meet easily. This past Sunday, Brian, Emily, Missy and I (Tyler couldn’t climb donw the mountain) met up in Santa Rosa at, wait for it, Burger King! for a welcome lunch. As I was patiently awaiting their arrival at the BK Lounge, I couldn’t help but question myself whether I had made the right decision. Life out east is extremely different than life out west. For starters, it’s hotter than Lucifer’s paradise out here, things are more expensive, and the tortillas are the size of Frisbees. Sure, the work out here for me is better and I will definitely feel satisfied with that aspect of my life, but will I ever feel like I belong out east? Will I ever feel like part of a family?

I got the answer to my query faster than I would have imagined. As soon as Emily, Brian and Missy walked through the door, their smiles grew, they threw out their arms embracing me in a huge hug and said, “Welcome Home.” Sure, I might not have a host family like I did out west (and honestly, I still have them…I’m already planning my first visit back), but I have a great living situation, an awesome counterpart, and tons of work. If nothing else, I will have my PCV family, and my fellow NLUers (Northern La Union) reassured me of that. I am wanted. I am welcome. And I am home.