I´ve been in CentroAmerica for almost a month now. In San Salvador, I enjoy both my rhythmic daily patterns and my freedom for spontaneity. On the former, language learning dominates most of my days. Since so much of the morning classes involves free conversation, I spend a few hours in the afternoon on grammar. Or reading the newspaper (still not quite there with Romero..) and in evenings listening to the UCA radio station. This week, the school coordinator bumped me up into the next class level, and I appreciate the teachers´ confidence even if I don´t feel close to "intermediate." Yikes. Yet, I suppose you´re not really "in class" if you understand everything presented... This week´s challenge is scratching the surface of subjunctive.
My confidence rolls in waves: feeling great about my breakfast conversation and then near frustration-tears when I got lost on a rainy busride home yesterday evening, fumbling my way through direction questions.
Spontaneous excursions over the last week:
*Karaoke bar. I sang English this time, but Spanish ballads may be forthcoming...
*Sitting in on a "taller" (workshop) on Friday, people from various communities around the country coming monthly to CIS to discuss common experiences and plan both local trainings and broader activism, like the campaign against enironmentally-catastrophic mining rights that Pacific Rim and other companies are pushing for from the government(more info: http://luterano.blogspot.com/). I talked to one young man who came from 3 hours away to this taller. He works as a walk-through candy vender on regional buses. Wow.
*Visiting the Soy project on Saturday, run by a Maryknoll lay missioner. The effort has made measurably significant differences in child nutritional status around here. Helped make vanilla and chocolate soy milk using their new "cow" machine. Yum.
*Traveling to San Antonio de Ranchos, a small village in the northen department of Chaletenango, on Monday with the entire MK crew. Every year, a service is held in memory of Maryknoll Sister Carla, who died in 1980 crossing a flooding riverbed. She had just picked up a campesino released on stern "warning" from a nearby prison, accused on being a guerilla informant. She was taking him home to try to avoid probable torture. Also in the car were two young men and Sr Ita Ford. All were quickly pushed out of the inundated car by Sr. Carla, but she couldn´t make it in time. (Sr. Ita was martyred just 4 months later with the three other missioner women). We started by the river, with speeches from the townspeople who fondly remembered Carla. Then we processed with singing and candles to the actual service, and (predicably) ended with generously shared food.
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