Christmas and New Year's

When I think of Christmas, what do I envision? Snow, pine trees, cinnamon rolls, endless church services with kids all dressed up as donkeys and stars and shepherds, presents, family, and most of all a warm fire keeping out the chill. That's not how it always is - one year I went out in shorts to try out my new rollerblades - but for the most part I can count on my mental image of Christmas to live up to reality. I cannot reconcile Christmas with sweating and no presents. It just feels like another summer day, which is essentially what my first Christmas away from home ended up being.

Imagine the sun beating down, relentless heat alleviated only by a swift breeze ruffling the leaves on all manner of fruit tree. Imagine a river flowing swiftly downhill, dividing El Salvador from Honduras, meeting up with another slow-moving river to make rapids that swirl in a circle, pulling a person downstream for a few meters before spitting him out again in the shallows and gently pushing him back up to the rapids again. Imagine the water full of people enjoying their holidays, kids playing in the shallows and teens jumping into the rapids. Those same kids finish their play, soap up and wash off in the selfsame river. Women crouch on the banks with babies balanced on one hip, washing clothes or make campfires in the field shielded by a line of trees. If I forget that the field is strewn with discarded soda bottles and chip bags, just as the river washes shampoo and soap and urine down to join with the cloudy Lempa river, it’s a perfect scene. 

I remember “camping” on the banks of the river with a wonderful Chilean family. It took all day to pack up the car, debates frequently broke out about what had already been packed and what was missing, and the kids got underfoot urging everyone to hurry up because they wanted to play in the water. Camping here is a similar packing up of the entire house, but with the difference that this family works in perfect unison and Salvadorans live much more simply. We spent an hour or so packing up hammocks, rope, blankets, pots, pans, coffee, sugar, beans, rice, at least 50 tortillas (15 mouths is a lot to feed), and changes of clothes. Unlike the Chileans who were accustomed to living in the city with all its accommodations, my host family is survival-oriented, used to living off the land and fending for themselves. There are always plenty of hands to help out with work and everyone, after years of working in the fields, easily loads huge bags onto their backs to carry the twenty minutes down to the river. I added a few extras to my bag, slung it on my back, and we were off. 

When we arrived my host dad was busy digging the final hole in which he would plant a tree trunk. In the time it took us to prepare, he had already dug four holes, positioned the trunks, filled them in and reinforced them. These, as well as two trees, would provide the supports for our ten hammocks. Set-up was as efficient as packing, and soon everyone had a hammock gently swinging in the breeze and coffee heating up next to the beans over a roaring fire. I dropped my bag and raced the kids to the water, happily splashing off the day’s dirt and sweat. I’m working on getting the kids up to speed on American games, so we spent hours playing first “What Time is it, Mr. Shark?” then Marco Polo. Nayely brought the Jenga I gave her for Christmas, too. Score one for the team: good gifts that the kids actually like instead of just smiling politely and storing it away to collect dust. Brayan carries around his light-up bouncy ball like it’s gold, so that one went over well too. Edwin already used most of his new alphabet beads in bracelets, and filled the cow pencil holder with firecrackers. I can’t tell if that means he likes it or would dearly love to explode the whole thing, but at least it’s in use. The rest got things like chocolate and jam, so I have to assume they liked them and leave it at that. 

Speaking of Christmas, I celebrated Christmas in site, though celebrated doesn't really seem to be the right word. Christmas at home involves stockings, cutting down and decorating our own tree, christmas lights, church services, cinnamon rolls, presents and family. Christmas here was a non-event. Christmas eve lunch was a big deal - the family killed their only turkey for the feast - but otherwise there was no fanfare. 

Christmas day was spent playing Jenga and making bracelets in the morning. The afternoon saw us in Ciudad Dolores next to the Christmas-decorated park at the one-year prayer service for a 19-year-old cousin who drowned on Christmas last year. The service was beautiful, as was the alter they decorated with flowers. It was a joyful hour, full of songs and finished with the best tamales. They were not too soggy, not too dry, and filled with garbanzo beans, chicken, a strip of green pepper, and a string bean. The pot filled to the brim with banana-leaf-wrapped tamales could have easily fit a teenager, so I felt no remorse at dispensing of seven tamales and two cups of good coffee from the equally large coffee pot. The more of my extended host family I meet, the more I like them. 

The ride home crowded into the back of a pickup under the infinite sky had me humming “What a Wonderful World” into the wind. Nighttime keeps surprising me in this country. Poverty means few lights and subsequently much brighter starlight.  It is also much easier to appreciate the stars when I am not shivering, as would be the case back home. 

Remember how I said motivation was in low ebb? Holidays do nothing to help that situation. I achieved next to nothing waiting for New Year's and my return to Nuevo Cuscatlan. When I created this blog I was in the middle of an internship, just out of college, and still tied in heart and mind to Chile. I was restless and wondering where to go next. I am still restless and still wonder what in the world I am doing most days, but more than anywhere I have stayed, Nuevo feels like home. I know I should feel like that with my host family here in San Miguel, but it's not the same. Don't get me wrong - I love my host family and I like my site - but something fits just right with that family in that house in Nuevo. I am perfectly content to do absolutely nothing at all, which is how I feel at home. It is a little like being with tía Monica in Chillán, Chile, but without feeling trapped because of the bus schedule and guilty for not paying rent. 

I digress. 

I returned for three days to celebrate New Year's in Nuevo Cuscatlan and pick up my puppy. In those days I ate lots of ice cream and frappés, celebrated an octogenarian's birthday with cake and dancing, threw my first firecrackers, made a few batches of rolls, received good advice from niña Carolina, played Jenga, and took advantage of as much time as possible to be with my training family. 

It was with a certain touch of sadness that I boarded the shuttle, puppy in tow, bound for San Miguel with a head full of resolutions and a bag full of dog food. 

The puppy is settling in nicely, though getting her to actually follow commands is a daily battle. My resolutions are serving me well, and I may soon be busy with groups and projects if everything holds up, but that is material for another post.