Showing posts with label San Salvador. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Salvador. Show all posts

Sunday, February 06, 2022

Road Bingo: El Salvador Edition

 Every country, just like every person, has its quirks and certain ways of doing things which upon first observation, elicit responses in me that range from amazement, to being instantly charmed, to somewhat annoyed, to aghast. This collection of novelties, as it were, like the language, food and climate of a place combine to create the flavor of the country that differentiate it from its neighbors and let us know in no uncertain terms that we're somewhere else. Adaptation, either to stay alive or just to navigate daily life, activates the senses in figuring out how to appropriately react and act in any new situation. No doubt many of these idiosyncracies are not exclusive to one place, but appear in other countries as well with their own indigenous twists. As you get to know a place, recognizing the local oddities requires attention to detail and a sense of humor to ensure your experience moves from exasperating to successful and maybe even fun. Example: "Oh, here they exit the roundabouts from the INSIDE lane?"

After living in El Salvador for 2.5 years, I've collected fifteen localisms that I can count on experiencing in a given day. I don't mean a work day when I'm stuck inside, but a day when we're out and about on the road. I'll tempt fate by saying I can guarantee you'll witness half of these in just a 15 minute drive, but really - you will.  Go for two hours on a weekend and the chance of seeing the entire list rises to about 80 percent.  You'll see these have nothing to do with language or food, instead they're all observable from the road.  Which is why I'm calling this Salvadoran Road Bingo.   

I'll give the list with descriptions, in no particular order, and then present a body of evidence for you to have your own little windshield tour of the country.  The quality of these photographs is often poor as capturing them involves me grabbing and trying to focus my camera quickly from the moving car, because after all, that's the whole point.  Here we go:

1. At least three still-running, mid-1980s Toyota Tercels. 
In particular, the 1985. How am I able to be so specific? I'm not a car nut, but this was the first car I ever bought and I still recognize its boxy self. And recognize it I do -  EVERYWHERE.  America, let me tell you, you just didn't squeeze enough juice out of this car before thoughtlessly sending it out of the country where it has enjoyed an extremely fruitful second life on the streets and highways of Central America. Mexico may be mad for the VW Beetle, but El Sal loves the Tercel. Hatch-back, SR5 wagon, two or four door - they're all here and going strong. 

2. Someone peeing alongside the road.
Certainly not endemic to only El Salvador, but this classic is such a reliable sight that it had to make the list.  And the fact that public urination is a punishable offense in many countries gives its inclusion on this list of quirks credence.  Notice I didn't say a MAN peeing alongside the road.  This was not an oversight. 

3. Someone driving 15-40 mph under the speed limit.
Certainly this habit has to do with people driving 37-year-old underpowered cars, but not always.  In fact, it seems to be drivers in later model cars that are the more often guilty of driving 16 mph on well-paved roads under good conditions, for no apparent reason.  My hunch is that it's simply a lack of confidence in driving abilities, because it seems to be neither gender nor age-specific.  I just wish they'd use the right lane when they do it. 

4.  A wandering minstrel.
Exactly as it sounds.  A guy with a guitar, and sometimes the whole band, either on foot or on a bicycle - heading off to warm the hearts of a couple on their first date at some restaurant.  Do I even need to mention the hat requirement?

5. An astounding tree.
I mean the kind of tree that makes you stop and take pictures.  Either because of it's impressive height, girth, or the color of its blossoms. But what gets me is the reach and tangle of branches, stretching across the road to touch the opposite edge and providing rain and sun shelter for the inevitable gathering of life beneath. 

6. Someone helping a buddy with a breakdown.
See again the first and third entries above for background. When you drive cars that rolled off the assembly line before there were assembly lines - the chance of a roadside breakdown is pretty high.  But where this becomes a localism, and an illustratation of the closeness of Salvadoran family and friendships, is that everyone seems to know a guy who can come help. Available at the drop of a hat, they'll slide under the disabled car, legs protruding into the road, or crawl up under the hood with a pen flashlight in their teeth to see what's up.  And just like driving too slowly, this is not relegated only to old cars, but to any model, any year, which I fear says more about lack of understanding of basic car maintenance or tire selection than economics.

7. Something that makes you smile.
The first of our open-to-interpretation items on the Bingo board. No matter my mood, there will always be something that makes me smile.  Usually it's another person smiling at me, or at someone else, that is sweetly contagious.  Salvadorans are very affectionate, open and kind people by nature which places this habit in juxtaposition with many other places where a frown is the default setting.

8. Taking a siesta ANYWHERE.
I thought it was only soldiers who learned how to sleep flat on their faces in the dirt. I was wrong; Salvadorans can catch a few winks in any setting, on any surface - moving or stable. Please don't take this as a veiled attempt at labeling them lazy, because it is not. Quite the opposite, they are exceedingly hard-working folks, which is why just after lunch - there's a need for a cat nap.  And if that happens to be in a wheelbarrow - so be it. 

9. A man with a machete.
Don't be afraid, but a lot of men carry machetes a lot of places. Okay, there are certain times and places when you should be very afraid of seeing a guy with a machete, but in broad daylight, walking down the road is not one of them. This is a tropical country where no seed falls on infertile soil.  This means that frequently nature has to be whacked into submission so that we still have passable roads and paths, and gardens and crops not strangled by weeds.  Hence, the machete. Usually it's slung over a shoulder in a fringed leather sheath with EL SALVADOR carved along the length. 

10. Something incredibly beautiful. 
Another in the eye-of-the-beholder category.  Whether it's coming around the corner and being surprised by the view over a craggy cliff to the crashing waves, a volcano filling the horizon, or simply a brightly colored mural lining the main street of a dusty town. Something will brighten your view for just a moment and give you reason to be amazed. 

11. Someone selling something unrecognizeable.
This could be a crop of something in season, some type of fruit or vegetable stacked on crates, something hanging to dry that later will be stewed or ground-up or... I don't know, something floating in a small plastic bag and waved at your car window, and something unnaturally colored to catch your attention.  I'd tell you what all these things are, but I still haven't figured them out. 

12. Something that makes you say, "Huh?"
Similar to number 11 above, but instead of a foodstuff you can't recognize, this will likely be an activity, or maybe an architectual feature that you can't make sense of.  Not necessarily dangerous, but it will make you question what they were thinking. 

13. Someone working harder than necessary. 
This category speaks both positively of the Salvadoran work ethic and negatively of the infrastructure of the country that requires people to work ten times harder than necessary to accomplish something or solve a problem that has long ago been remedied elsewhere. As in many places around the world, Salvadoran women in the towns are still compressing their vertebral discs by carrying 5 gallon (40 pound) cántaros of water on their heads from a young age.  Another example: we watched two construction workers diligently trying to keep the dust down on a newly-graded dirt parking lot by using their safety helmets to splash water from 50 gallon drums in the back of a truck, as their buddy drove in a spiral to reach every bit of the lot. Extra points for ingenuity to the folks just trying to get something done with the tools they were given. 

14. The bread boy and his enormous basket.
This is somewhat self-explanatory, but it's also very Salvadoran.  One of the first three horns or bells you'll need to learn in the neighborhood is the clown horn call of the dinner roll boy outside your door. (The other two are the cow bell from the garbage truck and the doorbell of the water vendors.) Sometimes on a motorcycle, but more often a bike, they cruise by in the morning and evening selling exclusively white bread rolls - square or hot-dog shaped - from their oversized baskets or hanging from bags off their handlebars. Keep in mind this is a mountainous country with only the coastal stretches of land making for easy, flat biking terrain.  These guys also fall under the previous category, and I like the cross-over with number seven, too. 

15. A really bad idea. 
The last of our open-to-interpretation categories. I attribute these activities to the theory of alternate physics.  That is to say, it may be dangerous to ride on top of an unsecured stack of pipes in the back of a pick-up in the U.S. - so it's illegal there.  But in El Salvador, where there are alternate physics, this is perfectly safe and therefore a common habit.  Don't think too much about it, just enjoy the ride.

Scroll through the pictures below for your own Salvadoran Bingo experience.  While many images will be self-evident, I'm certain that something I penciled into the "really bad idea" category will be someone else's "something that makes you smile" - that's what makes it fun.  There are more than 15 photos to give you multiple examples of some categories.










































 


P.S. After writing, but before posting this, my husband and I went on an afternoon drive to a town about 30 minutes from our house.  We covered all but two of the Bingo squares (no peeing person and no wandering minstrel).

Saturday, March 20, 2021

10 Years In: Foreign Service Retrospective and Future Thoughts

 Very recently I hit my ten year anniversary in the Foreign Service.  Aside from a 12 year stretch as a riding instructor, this is the longest amount of time I've ever had one job.  

My first thoughts: That was fast! 

My second thoughts: Isn't it time to do something else?

Let me admit that in the past year or two, I've had itchy feet to do something different, as if there were another chapter still in me to be lived.  Some little bit of favorite dessert that I've tucked away in a corner of the fridge for later.  This "something else" has a nebulous shape: just something creative, a life under my own direction with unstructured time to travel, write, photograph, watercolor, tend the garden and pet the cats. Who wouldn't want that? 

In a series of long walks on unending stretches of the Costa del Sol, my husband and I have had some good "what are we going to do with our lives?" navel-picking (his term) conversations. 

Long beaches for long conversations

Of the very few conclusions we reached, which admittedly stands a good chance of being a) forgotten, or b) reconsidered, was that our current life already gives us the opportunity for travel and certainly for immersion in a place that regular tourism doesn't.  (Or at least tourism that we could afford.)  Second, although perhaps this should have been first, is the practical aspect of getting off the government wheel. Frankly, we need to keep saving for our dottage and there's no better way to do that than to keep our heads down and keep going.  

Now that that's decided (although see caveats above about our fickle nature), I've changed my mental pacing on the next ten years, knocking it back a gear from a dash to get onto the next greatest thing, to a steady chug.  More of a slow down and smell the roses sort of mentality, if you will. And you know what? Instead of feeling resigned, I feel more settled, like I don't have to wait to do what I really want, maybe I can start doing it now. 

Therefore, let this anniversary serve as a time to appreciate the best (and some of the worst) of this past decade in the hopes of fueling the next, and as proof that I can get through it and maybe keep on enjoying it along the way. 

Where to start? At the beginning. 

I loved the camaraderie of having two orientation classes: First as a Foreign Service Specialist and then as a Foreign Service Officer and excitement of TWO flag days!

FS Specialist Class - 2011

FS Officer Class "A-100" -2012


And now the moment we've all been waiting for...

Checking out our assigned house/apartment at post for the first time. THIS is the stuff!

Bogota: Now THAT'S a door!


Suburban life in Juarez

Daphne explores the house for the first time. 


Bine ati venit (welcome) to Bucharest's apartment life. 

Virginia apartment for our DC hardship tour.  

Notice the bikes in the living/dining room and mismatched furniture as we furnished the place from second hand stores. 



We love our San Salvador garden and you get used to the concertina wire quickly. 

Arriving at post to meet a great social sponsor who stocked your fridge, collected your pre-shipped boxes of cat food and litter, and took you out to dinner in your new neighborhood.

On the flipside - the social sponsor who promised all of the above and then suddenly had to go away on your arrival day, giving you less than 24 hours' notice that you were essentially on your own.  Yeah, that happened, too. 

Seeing the Embassy, Consulate or office for the first time and finding a campus with spots for outdoor lunches, walking paths, a pool (twice), cafeteria, landscaped grounds and an office with a window.  

Okay - I lie.  I've never had an office with a window, unless you count my visa window.  In fact, my first office, and by that I mean the entire Economic section shared by six people, was a repurposed supply closet.  No, not joking.  

Trying not to panic when your boss asks you to do something and not only are you not sure how to do it, you're very sure you have no idea what s/he is even talking about.  Like arranging for on-tarmac pick-up at an international airport for a VIP. (You can even DO that?) Yes, and there's a weird code name for it, too that I've forgotten. Picture your boss passing your desk on the way out the door and casually saying, "Oh hey, make sure you arrange for a Charlie 10 pick-up, too, 'kay?" 

Hearing some high-level muckety-muck talk about energy security policy and finding myself completely engrossed in the topic even though I'm a consular officer and likely will never have to deal with this, and then realizing he's the said-same muckety-muck for whom I arranged a Charlie 10 pick-up during his VIP visit to my last post.  Suddenly feeling all warm inside that I was part of something bigger than just the piss-ant details of the visit. 

Working on the Summit of the Americas in Cartagena


Watching the presidential motorcade arrive with our embassy local staff and seeing they were as excited about seeing Obama's arrival as I was. 


Getting to explore old-town Cartagena.

Hearing the spontaneous gasp and seeing tears of relief from an immigrant visa applicant after telling him/her that their visa has been approved. Knowing that after years of living undocumented in the United States, now for the first time they can return to their family and job without the daily fear of possibly losing it all. This happened a LOT in Juarez. 

Hearing the spontaneous gasp and seeing tears of shock from an immigrant visa applicant after telling them they were permanently barred from entry because when they were 19 they presented their cousin's U.S. birth certificate to border authorities in order to go shopping in Texas with friends.  Sadly, this also happened more than a few times in Juarez. 

Consulate 4th of July in Juarez with some of the women it was such a pleasure to call coworkers.

Juarez: Life on the X

Bien venidos a Mexico!

Settling into the first few weeks of FSI language class: pens, highlighter and a freshly creased open notebook arranged in front of me, reviewing the class schedule and flipping through the text book.  Feeling excited, optimistic and just a bit anxious about the prospect of realizing that in six months I would be professionally conversant in a language I had heretofore never heard. 

Crying in the FSI bathroom at month 5.5 of language training with a real conviction that I will never be able to pass that %$#@ language exam.


Back at Hogwarts!


Ole' Ben here to remind us why we're here. 
 
Going to work with my husband on our first day in Bucharest. For the first time, his embassy job was perfectly arranged to start upon our arrival. This was a landmark occasion as opposed to the many months' or years' wait of interviews, security clearances, dashed hopes and final resignation of unemployment that so often befall the spouses who agree to join this life to support our careers. 

Being the embassy's Fourth of July celebration MC, on stage with the Romanian Military Band, and presenting the Romanian President and our Ambassador to the crowd in Romanian, that language I had been crying about just two years prior.  Afterwards, kicking off my heels and dangling my feet in the embassy pool, glass of wine in hand, alongside two colleagues in quiet celebration that we'd made it through our second consular tour together and soon would each be headed to different parts of the globe. 

Arcul de Triumf on Romanian National Day

Castelul Peles, Sinaia, Romania


Pomp and ceremony of the 4th of July celebration in our final days in Bucharest

Standing in front of my umpteenth Con-Gen class (the consular officer general training class) to speak to new officers about the slippery slope of consular malfeasance. As the bright, shiny pennies raise their hands with "what if...?" questions, I find I can field them somewhat confidently from the experience I've gained overseas and during my tour within Consular Affairs headquarters. Geez, when did that happen? Wasn't I just a riding instructor a few years back?

So much more fun to see FSI as a teacher than as a student. 

Stepping out of the international airport for the first time and being struck immediately by the tropical humidity and absolute cacaphony of birdsong. Well hello El Salvador, nice to finally meet you!

Observing elections with a local colleague as part of a 15-team mission spread out across the breadth and width of the country. Feeling like a war correspondent as I slipped on the tan vest with "Electoral Observer" embroidered on the breast and hung my photo credentials around my neck. Chatting with other observation teams from around Latin America and comparing notes on what we'd been seeing. Realzing that what we'd been seeing was democracy in action via the peaceful transfer of power. 

Counting the vote in front of party representatives. 

Voter roles and an observer. 

Observer chatting with electoral officials. 

Volcano view over San Salvador.

Fishing village of Los Cobanos.

Over dinner, or the occasional gin and tonic, sharing work stories with my husband and realizing that he has as much consular experience as an family-member employee as I do as an officer. In fact, he knows 95 percent more than I about American Citizen Services and has accepted 100 percent more passports applications than I ever have. Like it or not buddy, it seems you've made yourself quite a career here. 

Not just listening in, but sometimes even contributing, to discussions on topics that later end up in the headlines as policy. 

Realizing that the feeling of "What am I doing here?" on the first day in a new office is getting a little less scary with each new assignment. 

Want to know what I don't love so much? Employee Evaluation Reports, the dreaded annual "EER" upon which our tenure and promotion are based. Once a year work stops as we each sweat over what to include, what to leave out, how to explain stuff while not coming off as an insufferable braggart nor a decorative doormat. ARGH. Everyone hates them, trust me, it's not just me. In fact, I remember a friend saying that when she left the Foreign Service for greener pastures, the first thing on her mind was "NO MORE EERs!"  

But some of the best perks of this job have been the local staff we've gotten to know along the way.  Maybe we've just been incredibly lucky in our assignments, but we've worked with only highly capable, friendly, welcoming, local colleagues who've put up with our thousands of questions and our regular mangling of their language. They've shared insider travel advice and told us the names of birds, trees, or food. They've taught us phrases to get us in trouble and ways to sound less foreign and pointed out cultural differences when we've wondered why things are the way they are. We've had far too many laughs, and we've learned who really runs the show.  

We had a great time with this crew!

Looks like we just might stick it out for another ten.  Well, we'll see...