i work in development.

yesterday my friend Juanita asked if i would go to a community to take some pictures of "abaniles" (stone masons), and a specific type of chicken our organization is working with.

sure, no problem.

i have visited jicaro a couple of times in the past so i had a general idea how to get there. somewhere along the say all the paths began to look the same and it became apparent that i was lost. i asked a woman along the route for directions.

you just go "mas alla" - more over there.

not exactly the response i was hoping for.

somehow what started as a path ended up being a cornfield on top of a small-mountain/large-hill. as i tried to edge my way out a pack of dogs came up with teeth gleaming. i had apparently crossed into their territory. i grabbed the closest rock in the process throwing my mayan language notebook in the air creating a rain of papers.

at some point during my panicked ungraceful retreat the owner of the dogs came out of her adobe house and they quickly subsided. wooooh. i gathered my papers feeling more than a little grateful, my heart still racing.

i got directions and was on my way.

i arrived at reina's house camera in hand. it turns out that one of the group member´s husbands died from drinking. the women were out gathering flowers. in addition no abanil´s were out working because it was "el dia del cariño" (i.e. valentine´s day). also, all the women had sold the chicken´s our organization had distributed in favor of the local "criollo" breed.

hmmm.

i have luckily learned a good deal of patience through traveling and living in latin america. the truth is as much as it would be great if things came together easily and people showed up on time here, i'm adjusting to the pace of life. if people are an hour late showing up, do i really have any pressing appointments later on in the day?

probably not.

these sort of inbetween times is when i get to get to know people and that is a big part of being here. i dont have these very clear goals in my mind as maybe i had in the past. more a sense of and a hope of an upward moving trajectory. as long as i am moving in the right direction, and i am making progress, however small, i make peace with it.

after my chaotic trip there i tried to take advantage of the time snapping photos of the comunity and a couple of chickens, and "chompipes" (turkeys).

so where is the progress in a seemingly wasted trip like this? i´ve got to find something to salvage from a "lost" morning.... next week i'm going to stop by the women's weekly meeting to introduce myself and hopefully i will be able to work with them.


...i work in development.

...mi horario

a daily routine is becoming a distant memory with each passing day here. there is no daily schedule as it existed in the united states. for instance right now i am getting ready for an incoming group of canadian dentists, trying to learn as much as i can about "papas" (potatoes) before helping with a "taller" (workshop) next week, and getting ready for a spay and neutering clinic for dogs and cats (a fellow volunteer suggested we may want to do the same for a few men in the community...).

also, i´m excited to begin corresponding with my friend, "Mrs. Sosnowski"´s, spanish class back in little rhody. i remember not enjoying spanish in high school. it seemed all about memorizing vocab and learning grammar. blah. it wasn´t until i got to travel that the material came to life.

language is a medium for reaching a culture. somethings simply do not translate from spanish to english (or english to spanish) and herein lies the beauty. using language here is how i learn what people value, think, feel, and do here. it is a way of gaining "confianza". i hope that having correspondence with someone actually living in a country where spanish is spoken (along with 21 mayan languages and garifuna) will help to bring the material to life to students.

so it is not so blah.

i have a new puppy and her name is amalia! apparently this is also the name of a woman on our board of directors who is not too happy to have a "chucha" (street dog) named after her. this may be the closest my parents get to grandchildren for a while...