This month has been very productive! (I am actually writing
the April blog post when it’s still April!) I feel like I’ve finally gotten
into a real routine and I only spent three nights out of sight this month,
because the work level in my community is finally starting to grow. I have had
several trainings/field applications/work days on the topics of coffee pruning
and fish tanks. One of the coffee pruning days I was accompanied by a member of
the community I had already had a training session with. I was pleasantly
surprised when he reminded the man I was training to bring an ingredient to the
farm that is often overlooked, but is a very important part of the pruning
process. Later that morning I felt a little useless as these two men went
around the farm and pruned coffee trees. I uncomfortably stood around feeling
like I was not doing my part, I was not helping, not contributing. Then it
dawned on me; this is a good thing. This is what is supposed to be happening.
This is what sustainability looks like. When I leave I won’t be here to train
new people or to encourage a little more work upfront that will make their
lives better in the long run. After all, the main goal of a development worker
is to work themselves out of a job.
I had a government organization come and give a training on
culantro production. A different government organization and the area’s
representative come and assess the needs for constructing a road (widening the
current foot trail) to the community.
In terms of personal garden improvements: I have finished my terraces, started watermelon, squash, beets, eggplant, green onions,
and celery. I hauled bags of sawdust for mulch (and my latrine) and large wooden
boards that were freshly cut so I can build another raised bed. I built my worm
box, hauled cow poop, and successfully obtained California red worms that are
currently turning that cow poop into beautiful compost. My tomato plants are
looking good and producing several little green orbs. I hope to soon be eating
delicious vegetables picked right outside my door.
One afternoon I went down to make banana bread with the
teacher. This method of baking over a fire involves putting the pot full of
banana bread mix (or whatever) on top of an empty tuna can inside another,
larger pot with a lid. AKA the double paila (large pan). I did this for my
birthday at my host family’s house and it turned out a little gooey in the
middle and burnt around the edges, but the in-between was delicious. Everything
was going according to plan until I heard the teacher (who was passing by the
fire) start laughing... She then came to tell me that the tuna can fell. I was
very confused (as I normally am when trying to make sense of Spanish) as to
what this meant. I go to look at the pots and don’t see how she could tell that
the tuna can had fallen. I ask her and she points below the pot, I bend over
and this is what I see:
Yep, the tuna can had fallen alright, right through the hole
I had just burned through the bottom of the pot. There was lots of laughing and
me shaking my head thinking; of course this would happen. The banana bread was
burnt around the edges and gooey in the middle. The parts picked out tasted of
bitter failure. I bought a new pot for the school and took the one with the
hole in it up to my house to hide the evidence. It currently has lemongrass
planted in it.
Also this month my original host mom and two of my host
sisters (my first host family I lived with for nine weeks during training) came
to visit me in my site. It was very sweet for them to come and see my site. It
also felt a little backwards being the host for them. Especially in terms of
food. I cooked all the meals and couldn’t help thinking; are they going to like
it? Did I make enough? Did I wait too long between meals? Did they starve the
entire time they were here? It was a very weird role reversal and for the first
time had me wondering if they thought the same things when I lived with them.
I would like to finish by giving a quick shout-out to best
friends. When I actually get to talk to them I feel a little less crazy, a
little more sureof myself, and very appreciative. I cannot accurately express in words
the value of a best friend.
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