Guns, Trucks and Efax

I’ve recently had my identity stolen. Not like an existential crisis, someone stole my credit card info- “Online Fraud”-“Identity Theft”- that fun stuff.

If you Google my name, you will now find that I am a gold star member of Guns America and I buy and sell shotguns, but not sawed off ones, the legit ones you can buy and sell legally online. As well, I am selling a 2001 Chevy, if anyone is interested. Also, I am apparently a wonderful customer of EFAX- so I like to shoot stuff up, drive my Chevy truck, and am environmentally aware of how much paper a fax uses, so I’ve gone green and receive my faxes in paperless form on the net- sweet.

So hopefully I’ll get that money back, because my monthly stipend isn’t covering my efax bill, on the other hand, hopefully my shotguns will start turning over quicker and I can use that to finance my other expenses.

As for El Salvador- all going well. We had a camp for girls (13-19 years old), and I did the “SEX” talk, and I did some MAYYYJJJJA myth busting. I’m sure I have no real audience on the blog, and I’m positive there is no one under 18, but since I’ll probably run for public office one day, I’ll keep it family friendly. Email for salacious details-OK not salacious, but strange, peculiar, odd, queer, weird, bizarre, curious, freakish, freak, quirky; mysterious, mystifying, puzzling, perplexing; unusual, uncommon, anomalous, irregular, abnormal, exceptional, singular, out of the ordinary, extraordinary-or one of those.

The pictures are of me giving the sex talk, collecting the firewood for the bonfire, and the “superhero” condoms- which the girls had to make. Each superhero had a power, like protecting women from violence or from pregnancy, etc. They thought it was hilarious ☺

Horses, Home, and High-flying

As per normal, life has sent lots of things my way. Thankfully, no car crashes to speak of.
I’ve ridden and arthritic horse through a guerilla warpath, gone home and come back, and have flown the skies in another way, via zip line/canopy tour.

Now, I'm not a natural born equestrian. I feel like I am pretty good at addressing my concerns, wants, and needs in my real life-and usually people respond. But, apparently horses don’t have the same consideration for me.
When I was a young girl, my family took a trip to Texas, where we went horseback riding. My horse was NOT listening to me. So my dad took over my horse on the path and I got on his. Well, it turns out that my horse was for little girls and his was for big men. My poor Texas horse (so said the guides) would probably have to be retired/made into glue, because it already had back problems, which weren’t ameliorated by my very strong father started riding it.
Fast-forward to 2009. I am in the capital for the swearing in party of the new volunteers, and decide to go up to a lake just north of the capital, because everyone raves about it. I go, I go horseback riding. While my experience wasn’t exactly traumatic as a child, I still didn’t feel incredibly comfortable on horseback. I definitely didn’t get any more comfortable when then gave me their version of “My little pony”, who didn’t even have young pony strength, but just looked like a pony, and was actually and arthritic old woman horse. So, fine, if we were on a flat path, but we were going through the mountains on an old guerilla warpath and my arthritic pony kept slipping on the rocks and up and down the mountains. She also refused to listen to me and I had to be rescued by my friend and the guide several times. Hours of sweating it out waiting to be crushed to death by my pony, I made it.

I also took an all too quick trip home for my aunt’s wedding. The whole family, the beach, the open bar, the surprise karaoke on the dance floor (DJ was taken aback), and being back home was a great feeling. Pictures included.

When I got home (El Sal), they lost my luggage. So, I had to stay near the capital and ended up going about an hour away to the mountains on a canopy tour- hanging hundreds of feet in the mountains on wires, fun times as well.

I have less than a year here (which Momma Hackett keeps pointing out), but it has FLOWN- I’m happy to be back with my kids/students, and happy to get back to work. I had such a wonderful time in the States though.

Also, the photo of me with a cocktail in my hand is a result of the hard work I did in the kitchen- I was caught on camera actually cooking instead of pouring cereal, which took it out of me.

A few weeks ago, I was involved in a car crash. The driver took the curve too fast, the car flipped a few times and we hit a pole. It wasn’t even like we hit the pole on the side of the car, we were straight up, vertical with the pole. Like, my head was against the window basically on the ground and the car was straight up and down on the pole. My parents didn’t call you in a fit, so that means I’m alright- no worries.
I was in a Peace Corps ordered neck brace for a few days. Since the accident was right outside of town, everyone knew about it and showed up at the health clinic where they brought me directly after the accident. Apparently, no one thought that closing the door to the check-up room was a good idea, so I was in a pretty good amount of pain having to constantly reassure the people I work with that I wasn’t. I can’t be sure that I was speaking Spanish, it was probably a Spanglish/gibberish.
Now, thankfully we were all wearing our seatbelts. That was definitely my mother’s doing- insisting that we wore them always. My father deserves credit here as well, because when we were little, instead of having a “curse jar” where the parents had to deposit money every time they said a naughty word, we had the “owe me a dollar” rule. Everytime we caught Pops without his seatbelt on and we said “owe me a dollar dad”, he had to put a dollar in the jar. That’s how we made our first hundred- and promptly purchased a Nintendo. Easiest money I ever made-but I digress.
So the accident happened, I was the big news in town. It was a good thing we hit that post, because if now, we would’ve kept on rolling down the dang mountain.
Now, it was a pretty terrifying experience, but I didn’t get that “life before my eyes” flash. The terrifying part is if we would’ve struck the pole a foot farther up, it would’ve hit me in the face, not the bed of the pickup. When I saw that, I was thanking my lucky stars.

All settled down, and I got back into my work after the accident. Thanks to a generous donation by my dentist of 20 years, all of my students got to learn about the fun world of oral hygiene. For the past month, we’ve been learning how to brush our teeth, how to brush the tongue, what happens if our teeth rot out, and how cavities form. WOO HOO. It is amazing how little the kids know about it, and how many little kids you see running around with their baby teeth rotting out. Every class I had, we would start by brushing the teeth. Thanks again to Dr. Konikoff and Kelly Scheer for working out that donation for me. It’s been amazing. The kids are loving it.

To conclude- the other day, I went to a Parents’ Day for a school I work with down the road. They insisted that I got my face painted (i.e. drawn on by eyeliner) like a cat. When I got on the bus home, everyone was looking at me more curiously than normal, for a reason I couldn’t work out until I got home and looked at my cat face. Picture included above.

I’ll be home for a little bit of time in May for my aunt’s wedding. Should be a good time- feel free to shower me with diamonds and gold.

Many updates.

So we had Thanksgiving in my site. A bunch of other volunteers came up to Perquín and Ron, the owner of the hotel up here, was nice enough to let us take over the kitchen (a decision which I’m sure he later regretted). Now, domesticity isn’t my strong suit as most of my audience faithful know- I can wash a mean dish, but can’t cook to save my life. However, since T-giving was in my site, I was the default cook (with lots of help from Ron’s mother).
We acquired a turkey from someone’s yard- it had been frozen, so it appeared to be the normal start to a T-giving meal. However, the poor turkey was anorexic and only weighed 7 pounds, so I asked if we could get a chicken to supplement our meal. Sure enough, an hour later, I was handed a still warm chicken from the ladies who had just killed it. UGH, too fresh for me. When I told my mom about the malnourished, emaciated turkey, she suggested I run to the store to get a Butterball popup turkey, which had the other volunteers and me rolling in fits of laughter.

Other things that have happened between Thanksgiving, my trip to the good ole US of A and those that have just happened:
1. I woke up on the bus and found an old lady’s hand in my pocket looking for some cash money. I looked at her like, seriously lady, do you see how I’m dressed? Does my outfit scream “super rich” to you?
2. I saw a lion, cheetah, and lioness on the side of the road (in a cage)
3. I busted up a child crime ring. Back-story is that one of my students stole $20 from me; I told him if he didn’t bring me my money in 2 hours I was going to call his mom and the police. Turns out, I called his mom and my neighbor (from whom he was also stealing) called the police. Well don’t you know it, 4 kids were working the streets of Perquín stealing stuff. Busted.
4. I saw a lady wearing a t-shirt saying “I’m not a b*tch, I’m THE b*tch.” I don’t know why I put the asterisk in, everyone knows it says bitch. (I didn’t say it Mom, I’m just writing about my experiences, see?!)
5. During my town’s patron saint festival, we had a rodeo. I went all the days, not because it was good, I was just testing the gods to see if that stadium thing would actually fall or if I could cheat death. It was the ricketiest bullring thing I’ve ever seen constructed in 4 hours. Insane. Also, during the rodeo, they made this poor monkey ride a bull. Which wasn’t really funny at the time, but at least it makes for some interesting photos. If PETA is reading this, I just want them to know that I was truly appalled by the monkey-bull incident.
6. My trip home was a joyous occasion. I’m seriously blessed with an amazing family. We have a series of games called “Reindeer Games”, which this year included standing in the freezing cold ocean water. The games aren’t really for “fun” as much as to establish superiority and the right to gloat through the year, though through all the cheating (DAD) and the spirited arguments (KATELYN), we manage to have some fun. The Reindeer Games include a Stanley Cup of sorts, with the past years’ winners included.
7. A LOT of gringos were here for an Eye Campaign these past few weeks. I was in charge of the inauguration ceremony and organizing the translators. They did surgery, cataracts, pterigium surgeries (this weird little growth over the eye). I got to see some neat things, some gross things, learned a lot about my eyes and how much I need to take care of them. That being said, 2 nights ago (one night after all the doctors left), I cut my eyelid on this dirty wire inside my bathroom (when you think bathroom, think wooden stall with a gross toilet… although I’m not complaining because it actually does flush). My eye hurts still, but I’m lucky that I don’t see light when I close my eyes, so I’m not complaining about it- I just want sympathy. Cards or emails will do.
8. I should give a shout out to the many many people that helped pull off the eye campaign- I’ve stolen some photos from Gabe Cohen’s blog because I didn’t manage to take any in two weeks.
9. Last night I found out that the nun’s dog got gonorrhea from another dog in town. Hahahahahhahhaah.


Not to be a downer, because it isn’t a downer thing, but my Grandpa would be 90 years young today. Good man. I just listened to “Sweet Caroline” and thought of the cousins’ brilliant performance at the Moose Lodge. Good times.

I’ll have been here a year next month. CRAZY.

I know that I don’t always necessarily have a flair for the narrative, but sometimes it isn’t the ill-constructed story that is the problem, it’s trying to fit all the things that actually happen in my life into an acceptable, semi-coherent form.

Since this months events do not allow for a thoughtful, well-chronicled, detailed version of events, I think they might work a little better in list format.

1. We have a new president-elect. Historical. You’d be hard pressed to find a McCain supporter amongst the crowd-though there was one kid who voted for the convicted felon Ted Stevens, with a hilarious, but unconvincing argument as to why.
2. A good friend of mine got married, and I wasn’t there to see it. Since there is a chapter of AA that meets below my room (AA is HUGE in El Salvador), a friend of mine had the brilliant, if incriminating, idea to take some photos of me “at the wedding”. This included stealing some empty liquor bottles that the AA homies threw out and photograph me with the bottles “celebrating” at the wedding. I’m aware that there are far too many “quotation” marks.
3. I saw a decapitated body in the street in the city closest to where I live. It was disturbing. Under what I would consider normal circumstances, a headless man might be covered up under a sheet, but this one wasn’t. His neck was covered, but that was about it. Stuff was all over the street. It made me super reflective about life, its importance, and about how I do not want to die.
4. I was sort of assaulted by not one, but two beggars in the city. A lady was asking for money in the bus terminal pinched me because I didn’t give her money. I’m not exactly Miss Moneybags these days, but I had the sneaking suspicion she didn’t care to listen to my explanation. I’ve got my “I’m a poor volunteer” speech down, but no, she just pinched me and got on to her next victim.

The second beggar did not assault me physically, but I was emotionally distressed nonetheless. He was a mentally challenged beggar and obviously that situation in life is difficult, especially in a country with few resources to help people in his condition. However, he was mean, to the point of irate, when people didn’t give him money. For example, he pinched a 6-year-old kid when he didn’t give him money. The kicker though, was when he stood in front of the white girl (me), and demanded money and pointed for around thirty seconds, which is a long time when everyone is looking at you on the bus. When I still didn’t give him money, he flipped me the bird- apparently a universal gesture. The bird lasted for about 5 seconds.

5. I met a six foot eight inch French Canadian police officer. I also met a 4-foot something Guatemalan woman. I’ve included the photo.
6. People go quiet when I walk by, you might mistake me for a famous person. But I’m not, I’m a Peace Corps volunteer who showers everyday, but never quite looks fresh. I’m Lila, who doesn’t drink and is a Puritan angel. I’m Linsey, who doesn’t have a husband or children in the States. I’m a daughter, whose parents do not speak Spanish, but she does (some people don’t understand how that could be, haha). Though, I’ll give them credit, Pops can say “open the window”, “how are you”, and “close your mouth”. Mom can say “hola”. It’s good to have people stare at you though, it’s a very interesting feeling. I’m still glad I’m not 6 foot eight.
7. I saw a turtle laying its eggs during the celebration of the birthdays of two of my greatest friends in the country.

UPDATE

The rat was found dead in the closet of my downstairs neighbor. OOPs!! My landlord said it was smelling up her room for a while until she figured it out.....

Peanut Butter & Poison

There are some things that just gross you out. Any reference to bodily functions no longer grosses me out. Seeing a chicken killed and promptly served to me no longer really grosses me out, though I’d still opt for the frozen bag of chicken breasts if I could. Sitting in the back of a pickup with 24 other people in super close proximity no longer grosses me out. But the Bubonic Plague still grosses me out. Supposedly it has been eradicated, but I’m not taking any chances.
I’ve had a little visitor for the past few nights, nothing scandal worthy, trust me. Scary Harry the Rat has been rattling around my room, scaring the bejesus out of me. He is pure Salvadoran, because he only ate my packages of beans, not my Coco Pebbles. He was a bit of a mystery man for the first few nights, and I didn’t catch on immediately. Talking with my momma, I thought it could just be a phantom of the oh-so adorable room where I live. However, about 4 am, Eastern Standard Time, I got up, bravely turned on my light, just in time for me to see Scary Harry jump out of my garbage bag, which is tied up on my door handle, about 3.5 feet in the air. He didn’t break any legs and he wasn’t scared to come back the next night. Since I was all out of beans for him to eat, I set out a poison piece of cheese and a poison infested drop of peanut butter (which costs $4.50 in the store that I have to travel 3 hours to get to, so I was feeling a little vindictive/spiteful). Harry came, Harry went, Harry ate, and I didn’t find him the next morning. Next 2 nights, same thing- I thought maybe I bought some defective poison. However, although no body has been discovered, I now believe that Harry is no longer. Or at least he got the message that he’d have big stomach issues if he returned to my sanctuary. I actually took a photo of my poison cheese, so I feel kind of like the witch who gave Snow White the poison apple. If he’s not dead, Harry will probably end up with a sweet princess girlfriend.