Saturday, November 25, 2006




So this past Sunday, I ventured across the border into Guatemala to see the Black Christ. Talking about a cultural experience. People come from all over Central America to see the Black Christ and seek cures for ailments. My legs started to ache an hour into wait outside in order to see the sculpture that is the Black Christ. I felt as if I was entering some kind of haunted house: the ramped winded up and to the right and the people exiting walked backwards because it is an absolute sin to turn your back on the sculpture. There are two stories behind the Black Christ. One is that it is a utterly sacred art that was found in a cave in the innards of Guatemalan earth. The other is that the Spaniards brought the sculpture over in order to employ their religious beliefs on the Guatemalan people. Believe which ever story best fits you. However, people here tend to believe the first story so much so that they stand in line all day asking to be cured for everything and anything. The pictures above are of the church, the Black Christ, and the candles that illuminated the church and its grandoir. What an experience.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

So my worst fear came true about two nights ago. Starting Monday the 12 of November us Peace Corps trainees went off to our various new homes for three days to get to know the site, meet the people, and get our faces out there. They greeted me and my counterpart Don Morris with banners that read "Bienvenidos a Joanna a Cuesta Marina." There were ballons that filled the walls of the casita. I was in utter shock and clearly had a lot of expectations to live up to. The people ran up to me and asked me everything from family questions to marriage questions. It was really quite wonderful.

You know what they say: "it's lonely on top." Well it didn't feel lonely on top until the next night when the surpriseS came. Earlier that day the combination of the house visits and school ceremony and the kindheartness of the people meant that I was offered food and drink from the tap. Let me tell you that no matter how many times you tell yourself that you will not eat or drink any of that stuff, the faces and hospitality of the people work against you when you are in a real life situation. Needless to say, that night as I was sleeping in the same room as a grandmother, two grandchildren, and a bucket to use as my bathroom, my stomach started to make some funny noises. The noises were a signal that diherrea was coming to town. As if that were not enough, as I am lying in bed trying to supress the flow of the diherrea something falls from the roof directly on my face. This thing was literally the size of my head. I screamed and jumped into the bed of grandma and the ninas. Well, little did I realize that the electricity wasn't working, the flashlight was outside, and it was actually a rat that had fallen on my face and the stomach was still on edge. So, I used my ghetto light on my watch in order to solidify the fact that the animal that had actually fallen on my head was a rat that was running around the room with nowhere to go. So...I lived through my biggest fear and still had an amazing time in my site. More stories to tell...next time.

Monday, November 06, 2006






A month and a half in and I am still here and going strong: some days stronger than others. At times I feel as if I am completely lost in translation, literally and figuratively. I find that people often look at me as is I am a giant cyclops with a siamese twin because much a lot of my actions do not translate culturally. To explain: I have come to the conclusion that what I love most about this culture is the desire to celebrate. There is always an excuse to have a lot of people and a lot of food in one place at the same time. Who can argue with that? However, my idea of celebration differs a little bit in certain circumstance: I do not have ¨pena,¨ I am willing to make an absolute fool of myself, but at the same time I have been socialized to ¨celebrate¨certain events in different ways. I will try to explain.

Two weeks ago my brother, Jaime, celebrated his quinseañero (15th birthday) and we had a blowout bash in the casa mia. There were seven square tables set up for all one hundred invitees to enjoy the feast that my mother and her female friends had prepared. ¨The more the merrier in a very small space¨ was the theme of the party. Soon after the eating shifts had all been fed, everyone congrated in the sala in order to listen to the loud music and get their dance on. This was the moment that I learned exactly what ¨pena¨ means. Here we are congrating in order to celebrate a birthday and everyone is sitting doing the white man tapping of the foot and snapping of the fingers because they were too embarassed to show the others their moves. It´s definately a cultural thing. Leave it to the chalita gringa to get the party started. In the middle of about sixty Salvadorans I took my unabashed self in the middle of the dance floor space and brought my white girl moves out to be seen. Blank faces and timid laughs accompanied my grace on the dance floor. Culturally I felt very removed.

The other day myself and the rest of the country celebrated el Dia de los Defuntos: the Day of the Defunct (dead). Here I am putting on my black pants and shirt in order to be appropriately dressed to venture to the cemetary. Ironically enough, black is not the color of choice to wear to a cemetary. On the contrary, bright colors and flourencents are encouraged. I love it. Although many Salvadorans have pena dancing, I learned that they have no pena expressing their love and celebration for those who have died. It is truly amazing. Although I could barely move in the cemetary because of the innudation of people, the turquoise, yellow, and pinks of the tombs against the purples, blues, reds and greens of the fake flowers helped me take my mind of of the congestion. The decoration made me realize that this is a country that knows how to revel in the lives that have come before. Utterly impressive. For much of the morning and some of the afternoon I chilled out sitting on tombs and talking about the people who had been burried aroubd us, and surprisingly it was absolutely terrific.

This is it for now but I will try to blog soon with pictures. Much love sent out to all.