New Journal entries

**Finding Peace…

So, thankfully, so far there hasn’t been too much need for peace…well, there hasn’t been too much chaos I guess I should say since there’s always need for peace. I find though, that as I go through the day and encounter people from all walks of life that the issue that I have the hardest time with is the unequal distribution of money. And I know I’m included in this unequal distribution…and it’s to my favor…but I see old women that are still out on the streets working because they don’t have social security and don’t have an option for retirement. I see people that have amputated limbs that are begging because that is the only way they are able to eat. I know a girl who lives at a home for mentally handicapped people only because she is in a wheelchair and that is the only other option for someone with physical limitations. I see the little boys running around, begging for food or for money…and I think “how can it be that there are people that have so much and people that have so little.” I know a lot of my capitalistic friends feel that it makes for a good system and everything, but personally I don’t like it. I struggle each day with finding a balance between “giving” and “keeping”…I keep thinking that I should do more, I should give more, I can give more. People that have so much less are sharing with me and being so generous…I need to do more. Each day I am frustrated with the dichotomy between self-preservation and making sure I have “enough” to eat dinner each night and the idea of giving to people that I KNOW have MUCH LESS than I do…who are more worried about IF they’re going to eat that night. It’s a hard balance to find…I’m not really sure how to do it well…and to do it so I’m acknowledging the fact that I have been given and have been blessed with so much. It’s hard to do…It’s hard to find the balance…it’s even harder to find the people that you will help and then there will always be people that you can’t help because of limited resources. Do I give a little bit each day to the woman that sits on the steps for the overpass of the freeway? How about to that little boy that I walk by every few days. Do I support the people that are on the buses selling the cheap pens or postcards that I don’t need but are actively pursuing options…or do I go to the mother with the young kids that sits outside of the mall?...or do I just give less to all of them? It’s hard to buy a bag of fried platanos for $.25 and then walk past someone begging for something to eat. I’m not sure how I can find a balance. This is the peace I’m looking for right now. To feel that I’m giving enough…

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Well, it’s been a couple of days, but what busy days they’ve been. Gregan and I have had the opportunity to get to know El Salvador a little better. We’ve ridden buses to see where the routes go to (no, there was no luck in finding a book with them all listed). We’ve gotten lost a few times and have had to take a few extra buses…and a couple of times, taxis.

Saturday May 5^th, 2007

We received our first wave of volunteers last Saturday. Gregan and I were doing a last ditch effort to get to know more of the bus routes so he would feel comfortable with the general layout of the city. Well, we headed out to Ciudad Delgado and Habitat Confien and I showed him the general area. We then went ahead and started back home, but rather than be patient and get a bus that went through Metro Centro we just jumped on a bus that went to Centro…no problem though, we know how to get out of the Centro. We rode it for a while and then got off in an area that we knew...after walking for a little while we found a 42 which goes to our house right? Wrong…it was heading in the other direction. Thankfully we had only gone a block and they let us off without having to pay. So, we walked around a little more…trying to find another way to get a bus to take us home. After wandering a little while (something that should NOT be done in the Centro…it’s too dangerous for foreigners to not look like they know where they’re going…which honestly at this point we didn’t) we FINALLY found a 101 that is supposed to take us to La Ceiba…a church that is close to our house. Well…little did we realize that there is a BIG difference between a 101 and a 101 D…and the 101D takes us to our neighborhood…but the 101 doesn’t. All this while, my phone is ringing because President Lopez told me that he would be willing to help us pick up the volunteers at the airport with his minivan…but I didn’t want to tell him that Gregan and I were lost in the Centro…well, that and I didn’t want to whip out a cell phone in the Centro. Not to make everyone nervous about anything, but just so you know, the Centro is not the most secure place on the face of the earth. We have to travel through there to get to a few of our projects but when we do it, we do it with a start and an end goal…there’s no lolly-gaggin (or, as they say in Chile, according to Gregan who served his mission there, “pintando monos”…which is literally “painting monkeys”) or wandering around. We go from one bus stop to the next with our eyes and ears open…this night was not quite the case so I was a little nervous…so I didn’t want to add something like a cell phone on top of the wandering. When we finally did get on a bus the music was so loud that there would be no way that I was going to be able to hear President Lopez talking anyway. Well, so we’re on the 101 and we’re finding that it’s turning off the main road that takes us home…”don’t worry” I tell Gregan “it will come back from behind the mall…remember when we picked it up over there. It will take us to the Ceiba…no problems”…so, we’re behind the mall and I’m getting ready for it to turn towards our house…no such luck. It heads in the opposite direction. Gregan keeps asking if we should get off since we’re getting close to the time when the cab is supposed to be meeting us to go to the airport…and President Lopez is wondering about us. “No…it will be coming back. It’s fine…I promise” Further and further away we’re going until I see a sign that is welcoming us to Colonia Merliot…which is something that I have seen on the map…but on the very edge. I’m starting to realize that I am wrong (yes, everyone can make note of the fact that I’m actually admitting it) but not saying anything to Gregan just yet. Once the bus starts to get away from the main strip where there are lots of busses and taxis, I finally decide to admit it to Gregan. We get off…walk a few blocks…try to wave down a taxi, stress about time, finally get a taxi, call President Lopez who tells me he will wait at our house, and then get a call from the other taxi driver. Gregan starts to apologize about not being at the house just yet, but thankfully he was calling to tell us that he was running just a little behind schedule. We get to the house just as the other taxi driver pulls up. President Lopez is waiting, I jump out and take off with him, Gregan pays for one taxi and then gets in the other and we run to the airport. I have a wonderful ride with President Lopez and thank him so many times for being so generous and, the wonderful man that he is told me that it’s his pleasure to help us and that he knows that he receives blessings for it and he knows that he wants all the blessings that he can get. He’s so wonderful and so helpful.

We get to the airport and I start to realize all of a sudden how nervous I really am. I’m worried about the fact that it’s going to be 10 new girls…I’m worried about them liking the house. I’m worried about traveling around with them; I’m worried about whether they’ll like the experience…I’m worried about being a good leader…I’m worried about being too obsessive and worried (how ironic)…I’m worried about finding the right balance between strict and permissive…of encouraging experiences and allowing people to discover things on their own. I was sitting there thinking about all of this, wondering if I would recognize them, wondering if they would all come out together, wondering if we would forget anyone, wondering if I remember the names of people that I’ve met and how long it will take me to remember the names of the people that I haven’t met yet…how would I get along with the girls…how culture shocked would they be…etc etc etc. Needless to say there was a lot going on in my mind. Gregan was waiting a little further back with the taxi driver and President Lopez was waiting back by his car. I remembered when I first arrived how nervous and overwhelmed I was…so I wanted to make sure that there was a friendly face. The girls walked out of the airport, were met by a wall of humidity and all looked a little overwhelmed, a little travel weary and just a touch unsure of what’s going to happen next. Moving to the cars, I was VERY glad that I had convinced Gregan that we needed President Lopez’s help and car. He has a mini van that is used for transporting goods, so it has a driver’s seat and a passenger seat but nothing in the back. 10 girls bring a LOT of luggage. We got his mini-van full, all the girls in the other van and still had to use a few seats for the rest of the luggage. We got them all to the house, moved them in and conquered my first fear. The house…with it’s makeshift room and dim lighting and pila…and cots for beds and very little closet space and one bathroom for all the girls…it definitely is VERY different from all the homes that the girls come from and even from all the apartments most of the girls have come from. The girls took it all in stride…each choosing a room without argument or complaint. We got their stuff into the house and then went on a shopping trip so we would all have food for Sunday. The looks that we got when 12 gringos walked into the store at such a late hour…that was priceless. There were workers that were hesitantly following us to see if they could help us but not quite sure how they should approach the topic. There were bag boys that were literally hiding around the edges of the aisles, and peaking around every once in a while at the group of gringos. We were the last ones in the store and were very well attended. Home again and to sleep.

Sunday May 6, 2007

The first Sunday in the ward was an interesting one. I was a little nervous (it is a trend for the next few days) because Gregan and I had never ridden the bus route to church. We knew which ones we were supposed to take…but, yeah, I was still nervous. We made it though, and on time. We were greeted by the Bishopric as we came in. Bishop Funes welcomed us at the pulpit, told us that the ward was glad that we were here again (something else that I’ve been worried about because of experiences with past years) and made a comment about “Rachel and her pollitos” or “little chickens” because we all filed in like a hen and her chickens. At times I really feel like that. I’ve been counting since the volunteers got here. How many are getting on the bus, how many are getting off…is everyone there, are we safe, so we have our stuff…etc etc. The ward is so wonderful and helpful. So many people came to us and introduced themselves, gave us phone numbers and told us that if we ever needed anything that they would be happy to help…there are so many helpful people, it’s wonderful. We had people that work at the embassy translate during Sunday School and Relief Society for the less fluent girls. It’s such a wonderful ward and I am so happy to be involved with them again. I’m very grateful for the directors from last year for rebuilding so many of the bridges that had been burned in the past. The church-house is very different from churches in the United States. They are smaller, number one. They have their basketball/soccer courts outside as part of the parking lot. Inside everything is tiled. The chapel is air conditioned, but after being used to no only no air-conditioning, but even more than that, working and running and moving without air conditioning…we walk in and it’s actually quite cold…and no, I’m not the only one that thinks that. The ward is MUCH smaller…along the lines of maybe 100 people on a full day. Our little addition ends up to be quite a big addition in our Barrio Campestre en la Estaca los Heores. It’s a great ward to be a part of though. That afternoon, our girls had their first experience with a Salvadoreno rain storm. It poured and poured and poured. Because of the heat though, it was welcomed. We had a lazy Sunday afternoon of naps and organizing our lives. Gregan and I had an opportunity to work on our communication skills. No, that’s not just a nice way to say “had an argument”…we just really got to talk to each other and work on really understanding where the other person comes from and basically understand their vantage point. I was really grateful for the opportunity because it helped me work on my own communication skills, but it also helped me with knowing and understanding Gregan which will be essential for us to have a positive effect on the team and the team dynamic.