How do satellites stay up?

After two weeks of daily rain, four days of diarrhea, a week of pink eye, and a couple hours of restless sleep, I set off to return to my community with twenty plus pounds of rice, beans, flour, and sugar strapped to my back. The rain had destroyed the path and sickness had destroyed my spirit. And the muck had just consumed my right boot. As I yanked at my boot, I yielded to the frustration and exhaustion. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I clenched my teeth, trying, in vain, to keep them from falling. In half an hour I was expected at Adelina’s farm to teach cacao pruning, but the rest of path there was far worse than the current stretch, and the rain clouds were already rolling in. I finally freed my boot, rinsed it out in an adjacent puddle, and resumed plodding along, regaining control of my tears. I soon recognized three figures coming in the distance: Adelina’s son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. Adelina was sick, very sick they said. She had gone to the clinic for blood tests for malaria (which later came back positive) and dengue. The said that we would not be working today, and I should not worry about Adelina, there was nothing I could do except head home, there was storm brewing overheard.

Other volunteers say that the first few weeks and months in site are trying, and each day is a testimony to that, but at least my days don’t pass without a hearty bit of laughter. As resident gringa in the community, I am the authority of all things technological or foreign-sounding. For example, last night my host dad inquired how do satellites stay up and what is a kilowatt. After a few ‘aye, aye, aye’s and ‘do you want the full answer or a generic one?’, I found myself explaining the principles of relative gravity and electricity to a bewildered Naso man over a kerosene lamp. Aye, aye, aye, enginerd Janell.

Oh, exciting news, construction of my house is scheduled to begin August 25th. It will take several group work days (juntas) to cut all the wood and build the house, but the agricultural producers that I work with are committed to finishing the house by the end of September. I have a site picked out, and the wood, palenquilla (thatch), and labor for cutting and construction will be donated (read: my community is amazing). I’ll supply the fuel for the chain saws, the nails, and the food. I am really excited. Maybe I’ll even bake cake.

kid’s day at the school, an ulgy duckling skit

my two year old host brother singing (his dad holding the mic)

The first cake made from scratch (ever) in my community

Ana frosting the chocolate cake

Raisin and cinnamon cake (the carrots did not arrive) in the "oven"

The coconut shaded primary school

The palm tree of pifá, the fruit that makes up a healthy portion of my diet

the land of nature´s abundance

a pre-dawn departure to catch the chiva out of site... not joking about the mud that swallows people and cars alike