update

Hello everyone,
It's been a while since I posted last, and that's mainly because I've been so terribly busy. I worked at camp this summer and I'm now one of the three Resident Assistant Directors (RADs) at college, so that keeps me busy. But the reason I'm writing right now it to tell you all that I am now blogging elsewhere. I have succumbed to the pull of MySpace, and hence, I post all my blogs there now. So, if you would like to continue reading my musings, visit my blog at http://blog.myspace.com/speedybw or see my whole profile at http://www.myspace.com/speedybw. Thanks so much for reading!

one

Today is my last full day here in El Salvador. Tomorrow I'll be leaving on a jet plane, and I don't know when I'll be back again. I've had my times of sadness thinking about it, and the process of packing is overwhelming, but as the end gets closer and closer, I continue to get more excited. I'm finally coming home for good.

Katrina left last Monday, followed by Megan and Elisabeth on Tuesday, and then finally Scott on Friday. It was especially hard to see Elisabeth go--it really brought home the realization that soon I would be leaving. But already, that pain is fading and giving way to the underlying current of excitement that is flowing just beneath the surface--or maybe that's just stress. Oh well.

Monday I worked my last afternoon, and yesterday I worked my last morning. Monday night we went out for pupusas one last time, and then I talked to my boyfriend for the last time from El Salvador. I've been steadily going through my stuff, deciding what to keep, what to throw away, and what to give away. The hardest part has been trying to decide who gets what. Hopefully it'll all be figured out sometime today.

In all my excitement to move forward, I must not forget to turn back and reflect on the time I've spent here. I am so very glad that I came here. I have learned so much. I have learned to trust God and His timing. I have learned to connect with kids and not simply put in my time with them. I've also learned many things about myself. I've learned that I am not perfect and that I cannot change myself without God's help. Trying to be good by brute force actually makes things worse. I also tend to hide rather than make the effort to engage people. I remember back at the beginning of the year when one little girl, Raquel, annoyed me to no end. She would laugh shrilly at things I didn't think were funny, sing the same part of a song over and over at the top of her lungs all day long (Moo aqui, moo alla, E-I-E-I-O. Moo aqui, moo alla, E-I-E-I-O. Moo aqui...you get the picture), and she'd come and bang on our door at all hours of the day to ask if there was pool that day and when and how much time was left before it was time to go, and if we had pool the next day or the next. I realized that the girl was just starved for attention and that was why she was so clingy, but for the life of me, I just didn't want to give her that attention. I wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. But then, something happened. I don't know when it happened or how, but somewhere along the way, I began to love her. She was still annoying at times, but that was just a part of being Raquel. I don't avoid her anymore. Sometimes I even seek her out. It's amazing what changes can take place without you even realizing it.

I have grown to love this place and the kids in it. I have been ever-so-blessed to experience all this and avoid many bad things that could have happened. Yesterday I went into town with Kenny, and as we were walking back, we passed a certain intersection and he told me that about a week and a half before there had been three guys there, robbing everyone who passed at gun-point. I asked him if he was serious, and he was. All this time, I've been feeling as though El Salvador isn't really as dangerous as everyone thinks it is, when really, it is dangerous and I've just been protected from it all. But despite the fact that it can be dangerous here, I still want to come back and visit. Check up on these kids. The Hogar is improving all the time under the management of International Children's Care, but there are still things that need to be done. There are now four smaller houses that each have 15 kids or less, but there are still three houses with over 25 kids apiece. The plan is to continue renovating two small staff houses that are currently empty and putting a few kids in each of these. Then, they want to built a six-bedroom house, move a family into that house, and turn the then-empty house into a school. We have a school right across the street that the kids go to, but many of the kids don't get the attention they need, and sometimes it seems as though the teachers pass a kid on to the next grade just because they don't want to deal with them anymore. (some of our kids are holy terrors and have made teachers cry) But in order to build that six-bedroom house, they are going to need the money to do that. The cost is estimated to be around $38,000, but it will be cheaper if volunteer groups come to do the building. So this is where I make a shameless plea for money. Pray about it, and if you feel as though the Lord is calling you to give to this organization, visit forhiskids.org. Please also pray that we find house parents to take care of these kids. There's no use having a house if you don't have someone to run it.

Thank you to each of you who have been reading this blog, praying for me, and supporting me throughout this ordeal. I will continue to write and post after I have returned to the United States...but I'll probably have to change the title of my blog. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to be on an El Salvadorian Excursion when I'm really in the U.S.

I'm coming home.

twenty-two

This past Wednesday was my birthday and I turned twenty-two. To some, I am old, to others, still a youngin', and to others still, I'm simply joining the ranks. The tradition here is that on your birthday everyone has the right to throw eggs, flour, water, and even mud at you. I was afraid all day that someone was going to pelt me with eggs. Mami Tita (mother of House one, and all-girls house) came to give me a present while I was doing my laundry. When I came out of the bathroom (where the washing machine is kept) she had her hand up above her head, resting on the door jam. I couldn't see that hand or its contents, so as she smiled and stepped toward me, bringing her hand down to meet me for a hug, I suddenly remembered the possibility of her having an egg and jumped back two steps. Mami Tita stopped and looked confused. I looked at her hand and saw that she did not have an egg. I was relieved, yet sheepish. When I told her that I thought she had had an egg for me she only laughed and said, "Good idea!" It turns out that she had brought me a gift! I was so surprised--I hadn't expected to get anything from any of the parents or kids. It was so sweet of her. She made me feel as though I was her daughter even though I was thousands of miles away from my mother. I think that was truly the favorite part of my day. In the end, I survived without being egged or floured, though Kenny, Katrina, Elisabeth and Benjamin and Josue (sons of the director) all threw water at me. I just happened to be taking the kids to the pool at that time, so I had my bathing suit on anyway and that made me have fun with it, instead of getting mad about having to change my clothes again.

But on Sunday, before all of that happened, I moved out of House 2 and into the Six-Plex. About three weeks ago, our director of children's services suddenly realized that the girls in House 2 were a bit cramped with only two rooms for eleven girls. The girls had been like that ever since Christmas time when we got a new Tia (cook) who wasn't married and so could live in the house with us. But for some reason it took five months for anybody to realize that this was a less-than-ideal situation. As a remedy to the problem, the director of children's services asked the Tia and Alexis and I to share our rooms with a girl or two. However, Alexis and I didn't feel as though we had the space for either the girl or her stuff, much less both, and so began to explore alternative options. We knew that in time, SMs would be leaving and space would open up in other places where we could live. And so, I moved in with Katrina and Christina on Sunday and Alexis moved in with Andrea after Jennifer left on Tuesday. Which leads me to my next topic...

Five more SMs left on Tuesday: Jessica, Carrie, Jon, Marla, and Jennifer. That leaves ten of us. I was sad before they left and after they left, I even thought I would cry. But during the good-byes, I wasn't sad. I think that part of it was the fact that I was taking pictures with all of the leaving SMs, and when you're smiling for the camera every five seconds, it's a little hard to be sad. Also, as the van was pulling out of the gates, Megan suggested that we do as her grandmother does: we did a good-bye dance. We danced around like chickens and waved good-bye. But for the rest of the day, I moped. I walked past the places where they used to work and realized that I would never see those people working in those places ever again. I looked out the window as I worked, gazing into the field devoid of workers, and felt the emptiness. The ache has dulled as I've begun to focus on my own last days here, and I continue to hope that I might meet up with each of those people again. Only thirteen days left until I go home.

bass notes

I don't believe I've told you this, but during my stay here I have bought a bass guitar. It's green, and I've totally fallen in love with it. Because of this purchase I've been able to participate in song services as well as in a band organized by the school here, ECAS (stands for Escuela de Capacitación Adventista Salvadoreña, which basically means it's an Adventist college-prep school). Being a part of the band has been a big time-commitment, what with practice time as well as performance time, and though I've enjoyed learning new songs and gaining experience as a bass player, there have been times when I have been quite unhappy about being in the band. Because of this, I decided that this past Sabbath would be the last time that I would play with the band. I didn't feel bad about this decision because my responsibilities as a band member included that of training my replacement, anticipating the day of my departure. So, for the past few months I have been teaching Estefany, one of the girls here, how to play the bass. After I taught her the basics, she begain taking lessons from Professor Fabio (the leader of the band) as well. She has now learned the songs well enough to continue playing in the band for every performance. No, she's still not perfect, but she has learned a lot. And so, without guilt, I dubbed this past performance my last. I awoke at 4:00 in the morning to prepare myself and gather my things for the journey. We planned to leave at 5:00 but didn't actually leave until 5:30. We then rode for three hours in a bus, making our way toward San Miguel. We then performed songs for the two Sabbath School sessions and two church services. We finished around 1:00 p.m. and then drove to our next destination. When we got there around 2:00, they provided us with lunch. We then played for their afternoon service (called Sociedad de Jóvenes, or Society of Young People) and then drove home. As I walked off the stage after our final song, Elisabeth whispered to me, "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'" I hadn't realized it until just then, but she was right. I planned to never play with the band again, and since Ian has left (Ian and I used to play together for song services) and I no longer play for song services, that was probably my last chance to play the bass here in El Salvador. But for some reason, I wasn't sad. I wasn't happy either. I felt simply neutral. We then packed up the bus and embarked on our three-hour ride back home. All-in-all, it was a fun trip, and surprisingly, I didn't feel resentful at the fact that the trip was keeping me from my much-valued social time with the other SMs during our once-a-month potluck and weekly Saturday night activities. Instead, I was glad that I had been there to participate in the music.

I have experienced yet another mood swing of sorts. In past entries I have felt melancholy at the thought of leaving this place, sad at the prospect of closing this chapter in my life. But the problem is that I've been feeling as though I was about to leave for quite some time now. I feel like I should have already left. But no. I'm still here. So now I feel quite ready to return home and get back to "life as usual."

twenty-eight

That's right--twenty-eight days left until I head for home, and part of me wishes that I didn't have to leave. Since I've gone home twice during the past eight and a half months, I don't think it will be hard for me to adjust back to normal life. Instead, I think the hardest thing will be closing a chapter in my life that will never be opened again. I want to come back to visit someday, but it will never be the same as living here.

Two weekends ago we SMs experienced the privilege of spending the night at someone else's house! It was lots of fun. The owner of the house is named Glen (and I can't pronounce or spell his last name). He works with the U.S. Embassy and is a member of a church in San Salvador that we had visited once before. We brought the ingredients for haystacks for supper and pancakes for breakfast, but when we got up on Sunday morning, we found out that the cook was already making pancakes for us and Glen had bought juice, milk, cereal, and doughnuts for us. We were quite surprised and blown away by his generosity and kindness.

Last Wednesday Mandy and Ian left. I cried. They are the first of the long-term SMs to leave. The kids put on a special program for us the night before they left. It was a funny program, and it was touching to see how much work they'd put into it. It also got the kids thinking about when the rest of the SMs were going to leave. The next day many kids asked me when I was leaving, and when I told them June 1st, they would say "Ay no," pout, and tell me not to leave. A few days later, I read an e-mail from Michael Moore, a student missionary currently serving in Majuro. In his letter, he said that he had decided to stay where he was for another year. Something clicked inside my head, and I realized that yes, sometimes people do stay out as an SM for two years. Ian did it. I shouldn't think that such a thing is impossible. So there are times now when I flirt with the idea of staying another year, but for me, it's really not an option. Deep down, I know that even though I don't always want to leave this place, I have so much that I'm looking forward to when I return home. It's time for me to move on.

I've just started working on my class schedule for next year and I'm really excited. Part of it is that I love making schedules and trying to make everything fit together. Another part of it is that I'm excited just to get back into the classroom and learn stuff. I'm also really looking forward to working at Big Lake again this summer. I'll be a counselor again, and I think I've learned quite a few things here that can help me do my job better there. It's going to be awesome.

forty-six

I've been back in El Salvador for almost two weeks and I'm realizing again how little time I have left.

Coming back wasn't as hard this time--no tears since leaving my parents at the airport--and it helped that I had tons of things to keep me busy upon my return. For one thing, my laundry had piled up before I left for the States, and of course the situation didn't improve in my absence. For another thing, a new guy, Rodney, had joined our ranks for a temporary stay. Having anybody new come is something exciting in itself, but Rodney is interesting in his own right. He's an old friend of Jennifer's, but he gets along with everybody, plus he plays the drums and a bit of guitar and loves to make up his own lyrics to songs, so Rodney, Ian and I have begun jamming together. Sometimes I play the bass, other times I make up harmony to whatever it is that Rodney's singing. It's really quite fun and I enjoy it.

The biggest thing that's happened recently is that for the past week I've been busy helping out with the Campamento (camp-out). The kids from the Hogar were split up into three age-groups and each age-group came for about two days. They slept in tents and had a campfire at night, and had group competitions during the day, including a water fight. I worked in the kitchen tent and learned the joys of cooking over an open fire. It was really quite exciting. Most of the student missionaries who helped out with the Campamento slept outside, and it was nice to be able to watch the sun rise most mornings. One morning in particular, Elisabeth woke me up to look at the beautiful sky. I looked, taking in the pink and purple clouds spread out above the mountains. Then, after Andrea and Elisabeth had put their heads down to go back to sleep, I continued to watch. To my surprise and delight, I saw the first flame of sun reach over the mountains. I caught my breath and woke the other girls so that they too might see the sight. I've tried to witness the sight every morning since then, but have been unable, either because I woke up too late, or else I woke up too early and left to go to the bathroom, only to come back and find that I took too long and the sun was already up. The Campamento ended on Friday, and just the student missionaries slep outside on Friday night. It was nice to continue the tradition. But on Saturday night, the group changed. A few more SMs came to join the group in sleeping outside, and a few of the veterans who had been there all week decided not to come back. After being around those certain people every day all week, I felt a hole inside of me when they were gone. I felt a sadness as though I would never see them again. As time has passed the sadness has dulled, but the knowledge is still there: this will not last forever. I can only pray that once we've left this place, God will keep us safe and cause our paths to cross once more.

home again

Yes, I am home again, but under rather unnatural circumstances. Yesterday, the day before my family and Peter were to leave after having spent a few days visiting me in El Salvador, we learned that my Grandma, my Dad's mom, had died. It was quite a shock. Fortunately, I was able to get a seat on the same flight out of the country as my family and Peter. I'm now at home, but only for a few hours to sleep before we jet back to Pennsylvania for the memorial service. Please keep my family in your prayers.