Hope you had the time of your life

If Peace Corps is a sink or swim experience, I floated. I have learned a lot - about myself, human nature, life in general - but I definitely did not save the world. Not that I expected to be superman, but I had no idea that it could be so hard to help others. Seems like such a simple concept. But I am still here; I have not thrown in the towel - that has to count for something.

I have been shocked to the core. Have you ever seen the anguish of a mother who does not know if her child is dead or alive? Maybe you have heard about the massacre of immigrants in Mexico, and remember my previous post about two young men from the community who decided to try their luck getting to the states. The last I heard they were still in Veracruz, distant from site of the massacre, but they have not communicated in weeks. As I sat with the mother of one recently all she could manage to do was wonder why her son had decided to leave with his cousin to "chase of the dollar" and leave a life, that while at times a struggle, was familiar and safe. I cannot imagine listening to the news when the cadavers were returned to their countries of origen with the knowledge that some remain unidentified and one of them may be your son. What consolation can I possibly offer - the foreinger from the other side of the fence - relatively exempt from these dangers and the call of the dollar. By luck of birth, I have already attained the dreams they were, no are, chasing. There is a saying here: "todo se pierde, menos la esperanza" - you can lose everything, but hope remains.

I did not wish to leave you with this depressing note, but I felt that it had to be written. Hopefully the following will again lift your spirits.

The movie Air Bud showed not to long ago on one of the few channels that makes it to the community (followed by the rest in the series on successive weekends). Kids loved the golden retriever playing basketball so much that they were inspired to build their own "court" on the side of the road. Pots with the bottoms rusted out served as hoops attached to branches the kids stuck in the ground. It is very cute, but pretty much utter chaos as no one dribbles. They can´t really as the surface is not conducive to dribbling.

Previous to this there was a Shrek marathon, were the soon to be 3year-old of my eldest host brother received the nickname "gato en botas" (Puss in Boots) as he currently runs around in oversize rubber boots (the smallest available at the time) after demanding that his dad purchase them. He has taken to calling me Robertin (little Roberto), Robertillo (similar), Roberta (the female form) etc. to egg me on, and even calls me Tio (uncle) from time to time. I have grown close to him and will definitely miss him when I am gone.

I am almost tired of the foods prepared with fresh corn, luckily coinciding with the end of the season. I have lost count of the number of times I have eaten atol (corn pudding), huihuiles (not sure of the spelling - tortillas made from fresh corn), tamales, and boiled/roasted ears of corn.
It was good to get the experience of being stuffed to the brim with corn, as I had missed it last year due to the lack of rain.

The last few months in site have been difficult. All of the rain that was absent last year at this time has fallen this year and then some. The road is almost washed out, and continually worsening with the logging trucks that traverse it and get stuck in the mud pits they create. In one storm, 2.5 inches fell in around an hour and the runoff threated to wash away the porch of the house my eldest host brother just constructed. The farmers here have lost most of their bean crops, and are at risk to lose the corn crop too as the grains have to dry before they can be stored to make tortillas later. Feast or Famine.

Bright side is that the Sonlight Power, Inc., the organization that installed the solar panel at the community school, is planning to come and fix it this coming week. Hopefully they will not have trouble in arriving. The communities along the road have organized work groups to toss rocks and gravel in the worst of the ruts.

Crazy that 2 years can pass by so quickly. All of a sudden I have to figure out how to say goodbye when it seems like I have just barely said hello.