Day 10: Party Time

Monday September 7, 2009

Vocabulary

fregar: to break or to rip (romper)

cachucha: hat (gorra)

Photos

Usulután

Fiesta

One of the few assignments Manuel gave me for while I'm here is to get a professional photo of his daughter, Lisbeth Carolina.  Lisbeth and I have been planning on getting that photo taken today for awhile, so we went to Usulutan (the closest city) for that purpose.

Lisbeth dressed up in her best dress and ended up having her hair done three separate times (once by her, once by Ester, and once by the lady at the photographer's) in preparation.  She noticed a small rip in her dress (she said, "esta fregado," which means "it's broken/ripped" here but in standard Spanish would mean "it's washed/cleaned"), but luckily it wasn't too noticeable.  She's a serious child, and it's hard to get her to smile.  The professional photos came out fine, but she wasn't smiling.  We went to a park afterward and I encouraged her to smile at least a little bit while I took some more photos, and got some good ones (see album for more).

I continue to be surprised by the number and variety of things that people sell in the streets.  Today I saw a man walking around with about 10 light bulbs screwed into a long piece of wood, and it's quite common to see people walking around with clothing and belts to sell.  I guess it seems to me that you couldn't carry a large enough selection to make it worth your while, but I'm sure you gain some customers just by being mobile.

Whenever we drive on a highway, Alfredo tells me to put my seat belt on because the police can give us a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt.  This whole seatbelt situation is pretty silly for a few reasons.  First of all, everyone takes off the seat belts as soon as they get off a main road where there might be police.  Second, my seatbelt in one of the cars doesn't actually work, so I'm just supposed to hold it under my arm so it looks like I have it on.  Third, the most common form of transport around here is riding in the open back of a pick-up truck. When we went to the beach, there were twelve people in the back of the pick-up for the two hour drive, and we passed several trucks with at least thirty people in the back.  I even saw a pick-up being used as a hearse once, though I suppose in that case the seatbelt issue is moot.  So the importance of seat belts has obviously not entered the general consciousness of the people of El Salvador, and it's a little hard for me to take a police force seriously that will pull over and ticket a driver who doesn't have a seatbelt on while ignoring the 90% of people on the road who are traveling much more dangerously.

Speaking of cars, today while I was waiting in the passenger seat for Ester to run an errand, Alfredo had left the truck for a minute, and it started rolling downhill towards the parked car in front of us.  I tried to find some sort of brake to pull or push, but before I could do anything Alfredo had run back and jumped into the driver's seat (and applied the brake).  He then had me sit in the driver's seat and keep my foot on the brake while he went back to whatever he'd been doing (I don't remember what it was).

We drove by the American stretch of road in Usulutan, featuring Pizza Hut and Wendy's.  Pizza Hut is referred to simply as "Pizza" here, which confused me when Luis asked me if I'd ever eaten pizza, and what he meant was had I ever eaten at Pizza Hut.  Luckily the answer was the same to both questions.  There are also two local fast food chains along the same stretch, called Pollo Campero and Pollo Campestre (both basically mean "country chicken"), that are referred to collectively as "Pollo." I was eager to try Pollo Campero, because Manuel and I ate there in California, and he told me it was better in El Salvador.  But it turns out his family like Pollo Campestre better, so I haven't had the chance yet.

On the way home we stopped at the cemetery where Manuel's grandmother is buried.  She died five years ago at the age of 95, so this year she would have been 100.  It's a very peaceful, beautiful spot.

On the way home we also passed by an LDS chapel, the third I've seen here (and also much nicer than where we meet in Brooklyn...), so now I will know where to go for church the next time I'm here.

The errand Ester had to run in town was to buy the cake for tonight's party.  It was Hilda's birthday a few days ago (September 2nd, the day the calf, Hildita, was born), and we had a surprise party for her tonight.  I dressed up nice for the first time since I've been here, contacts and make-up and all, and got my first "que guapa" (I've gotten lots of "que bonita"s).  I also collected a fan club of little girls who were very excited to see my jewelry and make-up and followed me around as I was getting ready.  That's definitely never happened to me before.  It was fun.

The party was great.  The main event was two pinatas, which were quite a hit (no pun intended).  I'm getting pretty comfortable with my new camera and was able to take some decent photos in basically the worst conditions possible--action shots in low light.

The kids made good use of the broken pinata pieces--putting them on their heads as "cachuchas" (hats).  Pretty darling.

Day 9: La Playa

Sunday September 6, 2009

Vocabulary

sancudos: biting insects

bichos: bugs or (more commonly) kids (a swear word in some countries, but used commonly in El Salvador)

Photos

Playa: Ocean

Playa: Sandy Views

Playa: Splashing Around

Playa: Frolicking in the Waves

Playa: Lovely People

One of the few things I wanted to be sure to do while here was go to the beach, and today we did.  Anytime we go anywhere, more people than I think possible always pile into the car, and today was no exception.  The usual people were there (Alfredo, Hilda, Ester, Luis, Lisbeth, Daisy, and Carolina) plus Monica and her three daughters, Esmeralda (Daisy and Carolina's mother), and Sandra (a cousin of Esmeralda's).

On the drive to the beach (which was so beautiful, through green, mountainous country, but hard to get photos of), I saw multiple kids holding things up to sell.  At first I couldn't tell what they were, but I finally figured out they are dead armadillos.  I would have liked to try armadillo meat, but didn't get the opportunity.  Manuel assures me it's good.


And the beach!  It was great.  It reminded me of the beaches in Dominica, but better in every way except that there was no reef or pretty fish.  The sand was dark (volcanic), same as Dominica, and lots of beautiful palm trees.  The beach was expansive, and with large waves that were fun to play in.  There were also a lot of wooden shelters for shade (especially appreciated by my burned and peeling shoulders, which are quite tender and sensitive to the sun), and the price of parking included a hammock, table, and several chairs.  Deluxe.


I highly encourage you to take a look at today's photo albums (and I'm keeping the writing part short to offer further encouragement) to get an idea of the beauty.  There are also a few action shots of the kids that I'm pretty proud of.  I love the beach!

Day 8: My Team Wins!

Saturday September 5, 2009

Vocabulary

atol: hot, sweet beverage made from corn and served at breakfast

guajada: soft, wet, fresh cheese made into single-serving little bricks

salpicón: ground beef with onions and spices

Photos

Food and Cooking

Nature

Animals

So the big news today is that El Salvador played the US (in soccer, the only sport that matters around here), and the US won!  I tried not to rub it into Luis' face too much (doesn't he look sad?), but it was fun to "win."  El Salvador will play Costa Rica in a few days, and if they don't win that game they are out of the running for the World Cup.  We're going to be sure to watch that game, and Luis and I will be rooting for the same team this time.


I brought a few books with me in case I needed to entertain myself, and the last few days I've had more time to read.  I recently was reading a book about neurology (in the same vein as Oliver Sachs' books) called "Phantoms in the Brain," and Alfredo asked me if it was the Bible.  Reading is not a popular past time around here.  


Today I started a book of short stories in Spanish that I borrowed (I promise I'll give it back...) from Dad.  It's a text book, so there are introductions in English and footnotes with translations of selected vocabulary.  That's very helpful.  I also get fewer questions and strange looks if I'm at least reading a book that's in Spanish.  And the stories are good.  A step up from Ralph and his motorcycle.


I'm usually the last to wake up in the house, around 7 am, but today I was up at 6 am, before Ester and Luis, mostly because I spent a lot of yesterday sleeping since I was sick.  Going to bed at 8 pm and getting up at 4 am is not unusual here (from what I hear tell; it's not like I've ever been up at 4 am to check).  This morning at 7:30 AM Alfredo was blasting music from a loudspeaker that can be heard throughout the neighborhood.  I'm glad I was awake anyway.


A lady came by today selling clothes.  You can ask her to find something specific and she'll bring it next time she comes, which seems like a pretty good deal to me.  Dona Hilda had asked for a shirt to match a skirt she has.  My clothing is definitely on the casual side (I brought mostly shorts and tee shirts) here.  Women and girls pretty much always wear skirts and blouses.  I asked Carolina if she had any pants or shorts, and she said she had one pair one time but she grew out of them and hasn't had any since.  I don't think I own any clothing that would fit in, since my clothes that are nice enough would be too hot for the weather.  People also change, and reuse, clothes a lot here.  Someone might change clothes two or three times throughout the day depending on what they're doing and then wear at least one of those outfits again the next day.

Today's vocabulary is again food-related, as is the first photo album (it includes a picture of pupusas for those who are wondering what they look like).  There is a lot of food here, most of it quite good.  The only problem is that everyone is always trying to get me to eat more, and to eat between meals.  I want to try everything and not be rude, but it's a little much.  My newest trick is to accept the extra food and then offer most of it to the ubiquitous children.  This is pretty win-win.  Today Hilda made guajada, a soft cheese, from milk from their cows (sorry I don't have a picture).  Every few days I have atol with my breakfast, and I like it a lot.  Salpicon was yet another new food for me, and it's also really good.


Dad would not like the structure (or lack thereof) of meals here.  The whole family never sits down to eat together, even though I wouldn't call what they do grazing, because Hilda makes a meal that everyone eats, just not at exactly the same time or in the same place (Alfredo likes to eat outside while others prefer eating inside).  I now see where Manuel gets his aversion to sitting down together to eat (you wouldn't think it'd be too hard, since there are only two of us...).

I expected to eat a lot of rice and beans, but I haven't eaten a single bean, and there is not rice at every meal.  There is actually more variety than what Manuel and I normally eat (which includes rice and beans at almost every meal).  I have liked pretty much everything.  I especially like the breakfasts of fried plantains, atol, warm milk with cinnamon, or sweet bread.  They did buy some American breakfas food, corn flakes, specially for me, but they serve all soggy and with hot milk.  I don't like those so much.


As in any hot climate, it's a struggle to drink enough water.  I'm getting a little more used to it now, but the first few days I was always terribly thirsty.  I mostly drink bottled or bagged (drinks often come in bags here--you rip off one corner and then pour it into a glass, or just suck straight from the bag) water, though a few times I have drunk the tap water, which Manuel assures me is safe because it comes from a nearby well.  It may be safe, but it kind of tastes like dirt, so I try to stick with the bottled.

Continuing with today's photo albums, I think the nature photos speak for themselves.  If you don't look at any other albums, please look at this one.  It's so beautiful here.

And the animals.  Most meat, here as in the US, comes from chickens, cows, and pigs, and many families own at least some of those staples (we have chickens and cows).  There are also some more exotic domesticated animals (turkeys, ducks).  The wild animals are mostly insects and birds, though I did manage to get this photo of some bats.  I try to remember to drench myself in insect repellant at every opportunity (the little girls inexplicably love the smell of it), but I still have lots of bug bites.

There has been some kind of epidemic of chicken sickness while I've been here.  At least five chickens have died.  It's really sad, especially when it's one of the little "pollitos" (chicks, literally "little chickens").  You can tell they're sick for a few days (you can see the little chick to the right has its head down and eyes closed if you look close), and they give them medicine, but none have gotten better that I've seen, and after a few days of sickness they die.

Day 7: Very Quiet Day

Friday September 4, 2009

Vocabulary

enchilada: toasted tortilla (like a tortilla chip but larger) with a chicken, shredded cabbage, and mayonnaise topping


quesadilla: rich, dense yellow cake (see photo below)


empanada: sweet cream in a fried plantain wrapping

Photos


Friends
La Hacienda

Today's vocabulary focuses on some food names that mean different things here than they do elsewhere.  You're probably all familiar with traditional enchiladas and quesadillas, and maybe even empanadas (they're little half-moon shaped savory pastries filled with meat or cheese).  But in El Salvador, these words are used to described completely different foods (see above).  Of course all of this food (and all the other food I've had here) is delicious.

Unfortunately, apparently some of the delicious food, or perhaps water, was harboring something unfriendly, and I woke up today with a touch of stomach trouble.  So today ended up being even quieter than yesterday.  I wasn't that sick, but it was good to be close to a bathroom and just take it easy for a day.  I read all of The Mouse and the Motorcycle (in Spanish), one of the books I gave Luis for his birthday.  I need to read more in Spanish.  Even though it's a kids book, I learned lots and lots of new words.  I was planning to visit Luis' English class today but didn't feel up to it.  Hopefully there will be another day when I can go (he doesn't have English everyday).  Manuel was terribly concerned that I was sick (plus he just misses me in general).  He called at least three times with specific suggestions of things they should give me to eat and drink.  It was sweet.


I don't think I took a single photo today (shocking, I know), so today's photos are an introduction to the non-family people I've met here and also the village itself, called Hacienda la Carrera.  In case anyone's interested, the friend photos are labeled with names.  


One of the very biggest cultural differences I have noticed thus far is that everyone here litters all the time, even at home.  Although there is often a bucket used as a garbage can (though not always, leading me to accumulate things in my room and pockets that I need to throw away because I just can't bring myself to litter), it's just as likely that when someone has something that is trash, they'll just throw it into the yard.  This gives the chickens a chance to eat any parts they're interested in, and then at least once a day, Doña Hilda sweeps the whole yard to clean it.  Collected household trash is then thrown into the gutters or streets.  The streets and the banks of the river have quite a bit of accumulated litter.

Both in the Hacienda and driving around other places, I've seen a lot of really nice looking houses that seem to be boarded up and abandoned.  This house is by far the largest and nicest in the village, and no one lives there (the owner is in the US).  There's also a really nice looking, though smaller house right next to ours that also seems abandoned, though Ester tells me the owners work in the city and come home on weekends.  I guess it makes some sort of sense that the nicest houses are owned by people who are earning money elsewhere (there aren't any jobs to speak of in the immediate area), but it seems like such a waste.

I've been in a lot of places where I stand out from the general population (most dramatically in Japan and Dominica).  I thought it might be less here than other places since there are some Hispanics with blue eyes and blond hair, and 90% of people in El Salvador have some European ancestry (and I have seen six blue eyes, besides mine, since I've been here).  But honestly I stick out here more than ever, I think because I'm the only American for miles around (I have yet to see a tourist).  Everywhere I go I get blatant stares and comments, usually about how pretty I am, which I don't mind at all.

Day 6: Laundry Day

Thursday September 3, 2009

Vocabulary:

paila: bucket

trapo: rag

pichinga: large bottle

Photos:

Lavando en el Rio (Washing in the River)

Esmeralda

Today was a slow, at home day.  I learned how to wash clothes in the river and washed all of my own clothes.  This took quite some convincing, since Doña Hilda was pretty insistent that she wash my clothes for me.  Everyone is always insisting on doing things for me, and offering me the best of everything (chairs, fans, all sorts of food, the front seat in the car).  I'm flattered and appreciative, but I'd also like to help out, and learn how to do things that are new for me.  So today I did that with the laundry.  It was a lot more work than going to the laundromat, but also satisfying.

Last night when we got back from San Salvador (Don Alfredo didn't go with us), Don Alfredo told Doña Hilda that she had a new granddaughter.  Turns out a new calf had been born.  Since yesterday was Doña Hilda's birthday, Don Alfredo was saying he was going to call the calf Hildita ("little Hilda").  She took it as a joke, but I think he was pretty serious.

Don Alfredo has a wonderful voice and enjoys singing around the house.  Today he shared with me some hymns that he wrote himself and also a video of a singer, Stanislao Marino, that he especially likes.  He was shocked I had never heard of Marino, but once he got over that enjoyed sharing the music with me.

Everyone is always offering me random food in between meals.  It's all very yummy, but it's a lot of food and I'm often not that hungry by the time regular meals roll around.  Today's snacks included a frozen banana of all things, covered in chocolate.  It was yummy, and reminded me of California (and Arrested Development, of course).

The kids have been playing with cards for the game Memory without actually knowing how to play the game, so today I taught them.  It was a big hit, and we played for quite awhile (yes, siblings, I played a game).

Day 5: San Salvador

Wednesday September 2, 2009

Vocabulary:

chinear: to carry (a child)

calcamonías: stickers

Photos:

San Salvador
Family Portraits (all the family I've met here)

Today we left bright and early for the three hour drive to San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador.  Both the country and the capital are often referred to simply as "Salvador," which confused me at first, since in English the names decidedly include both words.  But it makes sense, since "el" just means "the" in Spanish and "san" means "saint."  You still understand what someone is talking about if they leave off those words.  And once you're in a country, it's not confusing to call the capital city by the same name as the country itself.

The highway signs here are interesting.  Instead of route or exit numbers, the signs just say where the road leads to.  I guess there are few enough highways that this works okay, and it does make it easy to get around (at least on the main roads) without a map.

We didn't actually go to, or even see, the city center.  Manuel's Aunt Rosa lives on the outskirts of town, and we went straight to her house.  I met many more relatives, took lots of photos (see today's albums), and gave away more New York tee shirts.  Manuel lived with his Aunt Rosa and cousins Jocelyn and Brigit for several years.  The cousins were too little to remember him, but he has fond memories of taking care of them and how he "les chineaba" (used to carry them around), so it was cool to meet them.

Towards the afternoon, Ester and Ana Ruth started talking about going to a "Plaza Internacional," which I thought might be a good place to get some local flavor and maybe pick up a few souvenirs.  Turns out it's a very modern mall (the photo to the right is of the very nice courtyard in the middle of the mall).  Not exactly my idea of local flavor, but it was air conditioned and I did find one souvenir, a soccer shirt for Manuel of his favorite team, Barcelona.  Ana Ruth's little boy, Jorgito (of "yo hablo tambien" fame) was playing with stickers, so I also got to learn a word in Spanish that I've been looking for for years (Spanish-speakers here just say "sticker," and it's never in any dictionary).  On the way back we took a microbus just like that ones we used to use to get around in Bolivia, so that was cool.

We left with several new passengers, including twin cousins of Luis who are the same age as him.  Luis is surrounded by little girls at home, which can be tough on him, and he's happy to spend some time with his cousins.  He actually has a brother who's just four years younger than him, but unfortunately he lives in the Bronx and they've only met once.

On the way back we stopped at the Pupusadroma at Olocuilta, which is basically a pupusa rest stop.  There are about 20 little restaurants all in a row, all selling pupusas.  I actually liked the ones we bought a few days ago from the neighbor lady better, but apparently these are supposed to be famously good.  It would make sense that they should be, since if any one of the stalls were inferior, it'd be an easy thing to just take your business to the next one over.  I also tried some fresh roasted cashews, which may have ruined me forever for the cashews available in the US.  They are so much better fresh!

When we were about 10 minutes from home (after six hours of driving during the day), the engine overheated.  The consensus seems to be that we were going too slow, which doesn't make a lot of sense to me (any car experts in the audience?), except that we had already driven six hours without a problem, and it was only once we slowed down that it overheated.  We all piled out of the car into the dark night in the middle of the fields of sugar cane, and the thirteen year old boys pretended they were on "la migra" (the journey to the US).  The "migra" situation permeates everything here.  There are billboards that say "tell your family in the US to send you money for ________."  I have not found a single family that does not have relatives in the US, and many families are split significantly.  The most common is a father from his children, but there are also mothers separated from children and siblings from siblings, as well as more distant relatives.  And most of the adults of Manuel's generation that I meet have either spent time in the US or tried to migrate and didn't make it all the way.  In San Salvador I met a 21-year-old who arrived in the US at the age of 7 months and had just been deported back to El Salvador.  He was happy to find someone else who spoke English, but in general seemed surprisingly at peace with his situation.  Thankfully he speaks Spanish a lot better than most of the Hispanic kids I know who grew up in the US, so that helps a lot, but it's still a totally new country and culture for him.

Much to the disappointment of the boys, the engine cooled down with copious addition of water and we didn't end up having to sleep in the sugar cane fields.  We made it home without further incident and found places for all the extra people to sleep.

Day 4: Usulutan

Tuesday September 1, 2009

Vocabulary:

chucho: dog (perro), also "shoo!" (as in what you say when you want a dog to go away) when said to a dog

cuche: pig (puerco)

chorro: water tap (llave)

andar: literally "to walk;" here it can mean "to have," "to have money," "to bring," "to go"--yeah, pretty much anything

Photos:

My Salvadoran Home
Bringing in the Vacas

Today I went to Usulutan, the nearest city and the capitol of the department (like a state) of the same name.  I wasn't sure about the safety issue, so I played it safe and didn't take any pictures, but I imagine I'll be back later and will take at least a couple.  The main thing of importance that I did was to buy a notebook to use instead of my cell phone for recording various things.  I organized it into six sections, made a table of contents, and numbered every page, so I'm ready for business!

The other important happening of the day is that (with lots of help from my parents) I applied for residency.  Today is the first day to apply, and it's good to apply as early as possible, so I had left them instructions, which turned out not to be entirely complete.  So my dad called me from Lexington and we spent a good half hour going over the application and then sending it off.  Now I just have to wait for the interview invitations to come pouring in : )  [Note from the future: I received my first invitation the day I returned from El Salvador, and I currently have nine (and counting...).]  Thanks Dad!

Here's my home while I'm here, Manuel's parents' house.  You can see a complete tour in one of today's photo albums.  It's where he grew up, though they also owned two nearby houses, so they had more space when all six kids were at home.

Obviously there are a lot of novel things about life here.  Even though I've visited other countries before, in some ways this is the most I've really been immersed in what daily life is like somewhere else.  In Bolivia, I was with other Americans all day, and we lived in a house that was owned by an American organization and pretty much like an American house.  In Japan, even though I lived with a Japanese family, I spent everyday with other Americans, going to classes just like I did back in Provo.  And in Dominica, my longest foreign experience by far, I was again surrounded by Americans and going to what was essentially an American school.  Here, I am the only American for miles around, no one else speaks even a little bit of English, and I am pretty much just living life with Manuel's family, the same way they do everyday (though we have done a few things that they planned specially for me, so it's still not 100% authentic).

Living here reminds me of camping in a few ways.  I feel very close to nature--trees, animals, farmland abound.  There are no flush toilets.  A lot of the cooking is done over a fire and a lot of the eating is done outside.  For some reason I always seem to have dirt under my nails, even though I take a (essentially outdoor) shower at least once a day.  There's no air conditioning.  Also, there is less privacy and more of a feeling of community than anywhere I've ever lived.  That part reminds me especially of the Arlington Ward camp-out.  Random neighbors are always crossing through our yard because it's quicker than going all the way around.  Everyone sends kids as messengers and couriers all over the place.  The main form of entertainment is stopping by someone's house and talking for an hour or so.  That this community extends to those who have been in the United States, some for many years, is obvious when people learn that I am Manuel's wife and share their memories of him as a child and when I show them the photos of people from the Hacienda that I took in California.  It's pretty cozy.

The semi-outdoor shower was a little off-putting at first, since there's also no hot water and I took my first few showers first thing in the morning, as I'm used to doing when I have to be at the hospital all day.  However, I've noticed that the morning shower thing is not that popular here.  Everyone seems to take a shower just before leaving the house instead, which might be in the afternoon or evening.  Given the heat and humidity, this makes a lot of sense, since a shower wears off pretty quickly.  Also, a cold, outdoor shower is quite a pleasant thing in the heat of the day when it's bright and sunny.

The closeness of the houses and lack of privacy extends to noise as well.  Every morning there is a cacophony of chickens clucking and roosters cock-a-doodle-doodling.  During the day, any time anyone close by plays music or watches television, we can hear it.  And some people play their music really loud.  Really early in the morning.

I've always heard that Spanish differs by country and that to really learn it well you have to just choose a dialect and go with it.  But I've never chosen a specific country, and I've never felt there was a big gap in my vocabulary because of that.  In fact, it's an advantage in New York, since I must speak Spanish with people from all over the world.  But being here, I am finally learning a specific dialect of Spanish.  There is no distinct "accent" that I have noticed, but there is a lot of different vocabulary.  The new (to me) words are mostly quite common nouns, not found in my Spanish-English dictionary, and the phoneme "ch" seems to be a favorite.  The adults understand when I use the nouns I know, and sometimes use them themselves (i.e., saying "perro" instead of "chucho"), but the kids learn the dialectal words first and use them almost exclusively.  They also use "vos" exclusively instead of "tu" (familiar "you"), and it has its own conjugation which I have yet to figure out entirely.

The verb "andar" deserves its own paragraph.   It's a somewhat common verb in the Spanish I speak, but here it's taken to a whole new level.  I already explained its use in the game of tag.  It's used quite commonly to ask whether someone is carrying cash ("Andas dinero?"="Are you walking cash?"), and the "dinero" part is usually left off, such that "Vos andas?" (literally "Do you walk?") means "Do you have cash?"  Phew.  I had all that figured out before today, and then it got taken to another level when a lady on the street in Usulutan asked me for money.  Ester jumped in and said, "Ella no anda.  Yo la ando."  This literally means "She doesn't walk.  I'm walking her."  But with our new-found understanding the first sentence means "She's not carrying cash."  And the second sentence means "I'm paying her way" or "I'm taking care of her."  Double phew!

Speaking of Spanish, it continues to amaze me that people here really really don't speak English.  I should be used to it by now, since I interact with many people everyday who aren't fluent in English, but at some subconscious level I believe English is the default setting for everyone the way it is for me.  This is especially true for children, I think because in New York all the children who speak Spanish do in fact speak English better, and also because I only spoke English when I was a child, so that must be normal.  This also makes it very cute when a very small child speaks Spanish well.  Three-year-old Jorgito (furthest to the right in the photo) arrived today from San Salvador with his parents (his mom is Manuel's cousin), Ana Ruth and Jorge, and he speaks Spanish way better than I do.  And knows it.  Today when we were walking to the pasture to bring in the cows, Ester and Ana Ruth were talking about Monica, a darling two-year-old, and how well she talks for her age (though I do speak Spanish better than she does).  After putting up with this topic of conversation for some time, Jorgito finally couldn't stand it and broke in with, "Yo hablo tambien!" ("I can talk too!").  It was so cute.

Ana Ruth is just the latest in a continuingly larger and larger group of relatives that I have met.  I'm trying to get a family tree figured out, and all the specific names.  Before I leave I am planning to sit down with Don Alfredo and make sure I have written down all of his siblings and their children plus all of Manuel's siblings and their children.  Also I'll have to go through my photos and make sure I know who everyone is.  Stay tuned for a future post in which I will introduce the family members I have met, with photos.

As I mentioned earlier (and you've seen if you've looked at today's photos), today I accompanied what turned out to be a much larger entourage than usual to bring the cows in (it's usually Luis' job, and he complains about it a lot and often Don Alfredo ends up doing it).  There are a lot of cows here, and you have to be constantly alert not to step in their poop (incidentally, they seem to all have mild diarrhea all the time, which I guess must be normal for cows, but it makes the poop even grosser).

One of my main goals while here was to take some excellent photos of the stars.  I brought both my tripods and everything.  However, there have been multiple hang-ups.  First of all, it's usually cloudy at night.  Tonight was pretty clear, so I got out my big tripod and switched to my telephoto lens and got all set up only to discover that my tripod cannot tilt far enough back to get a view of the stars.  Also, the moon is really really bright, so I can't actually see any more stars than I can in New York.  The next clear night I am going to try putting my small (and more flexible) tripod on a table to take some excellent photos of the moon.

This evening, after much uncertainty and back and forth, a decision was made that we will go to San Salvador, the capital city, tomorrow.  Ana Ruth and Jorge live there, so we're going with them.  There I will meet even more relatives, including the aunt and cousins that Manuel lived with for several years.  They're kind of his second family, a lot like Jeff and Nelly are for me.  So tomorrow we journey to the city!