El Salvador Day 10: Return and Summary

Today was pretty uneventful. We woke up at 330am to head back to Xela. The micro came to pick us up at 4 to take us to the bus station. Around 5 we boarded the bus from San Salvador to Guatemala City. I sat next to Hannah and slept most of the way (yay for Dramamine). About an hour and a half in, we stopped at the border crossing. An immigration agent boarded the bus and checked our passports in El Salvador and then we went into the immigration office after we crossed into Guatemala. I got a new stamp for entering Guatemala but nothing to show that I was ever in El Salvador. After reboarding the bus, I went back to sleep.

In Guate, we took a cab from one bus station to the next. Upon arriving at the Alamo station, we learned that there was not enough room for all of us to go back to the Xela on the same bus at 1230pm. Half had to ride the 3pm bus. Luckily there were enough volunteers to hang in Guate and I got to board the earlier bus. I ate some snacks and got a cold drink at the gas station during our break. I sat with Rachel on the bus. We chatted a bit and napped. Our bus was struggling on the hilly freeway and it took us an hour extra to get home. There were a few points where I was worried that bus was going to die. We arrived back in Xela around 4pm. The 7 of us walked home together.

My first task upon returning home was unloading dirty clothes. I apologized to the laundry woman for the smell and was thankful to have wet, sweaty clothes out of my bag. I learned that I left behind my quick-dry towel (I’m sure I left it on the bus last night) but I have another towel to use in Xela. I met up with Harim, Rachel, and Sarah for some coffee and then headed home for some reflection.

Reflection…coming soon

El Salvador Day 9: Cinquera and UCA

Thursday we woke up in Cinquera, packed our bags, and had breakfast. I was thankful to see eggs, beans, and plantains. During breakfast, we watched an episode of Friends (the one where Ross gets married and says Rachel’s name instead of his wife’s) and laughed a lot about who knew the storyline and who did not. It was strange how we all got sucked into the television.

After breakfast, we walked down the street to meet some other community members. Our first stop was at the ARMC? office. They are the local committee of organizers who provide scholarships and community building projects. They are also the sponsors of the Cinquera preservation and education. Next, we continued down the street to the Unidad de Salud or local public health clinic.

Public Clinic in Cinquera

My first impressions of the clinic were that it was very clean, cool, and empty. In the meeting room, the walls were filled with informational posters about preventing different diseases and statistics and maps of the community. We met with Blanca, a promotora de salud nurse, who was responsible for seeing the patients. The doctor is only in the clinic Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sundays and in the community the other days. When the doctor is in the clinic, Blanca is out in the community doing home visits. Blanca started by reviewing the statistics (I did not write these numbers down so some of them are not exactly the same). Some 1,200 people live in Cinquera in 422 homes. There are approximately 60 unoccupied homes. 26% are illiterate, 89% of the homes have latrines, 67% of homes have potable water, and their homicide rate was at 4 deaths in 2010. The graphs provided by the ministry of health for plotting vaccinations were complete and reflected success in vaccinations in the community as well. The maps divided Cinquera into two zones, one for each promotora de salud on staff. Each house was marked with a red dot (health risks), yellow dot (pregnancy), or green dot (no known risks). Schools, churches, rivers, and roads along with other landmarks were included as well. It is the responsibility of the promotores to go house to house to collect information about the community at create these maps. This representative of the new shift in the health care system in El Salvador. The ministry has decided to follow the Cuban health care systems approach with community-oriented preventative medicine. This results in more access to health services in rural areas and health providers visiting homes in each community.

We spent the rest of our time asking questions. I had a million. I was so impressed by the organization of the clinic, the availability of information for their patients, and passion Blanca had for sharing with us. According to Blanca, the most common illnesses are diarrhea, respiratory, and gastritis related diseases – mostly caused by working conditions and water contamination, I would predict. As a level one clinic, they treat general complaints but need to refer patients to the regional hospitals if there disease is too advanced or they have a fracture requiring an x-ray. The clinic is supposedly has sufficient medicine and materials to provide the appropriate care to the patients. All of these services and medicines are provided at no charge to the patients. The clinic orders supplies based on the demand expected in the community. The local people have confidence in the clinic and do not rely much on traditional medicine (tea, herbs). The clinic however is responsible for treating patients who live up to an hour away and do not have financial support to reimburse transportation costs. They do have an ambulance service to take patients the hour drive to the hospital but this requires gasoline expenses. We also learned that Cinquera has not had any malaria cases but has had a few dengue cases, these are marked on a separate community map.

Blanca also gave us a tour of the clinic. First, we stopped at the archives of patient records. Each house has a folder and all of the household members documents are collected in the same folder. Each family member is also numbered (01 for father, 02 for mother, 03 oldest child, etc.) to keep track. Additionally, the family names are organized in notebooks by cantones or communities to make it easier to find patient records. I was super impressed by this system – way better than what we used at Salud y Paz!! Second, we visited the dentist. He is in the clinic 4 days a week to provide oral care. I asked him about my observation that oral hygiene was much better in El Salvador than in Guatemala. He attributed it to a health standards taught kindergarten through sixth grade about oral hygiene and teeth brushing. I was impressed (and he complimented my Spanish J). Next, we saw a series of smaller rooms for different purposes – vitals, doctor’s consult, vaccinations, rehydration, and nebulizer – each labeled and very clean. Each room had much more equipment than any clinic I had seen in Guatemala. Overall, I was very impressed by the level of care that seems to be available to everyone in the community. I am skeptical about how widespread the organization is within the various clinics, how much medicine and equipment is available on a regular basis, and how the people feel about the type of care the receive.

University of Central America

We returned to the hostel, used the bathroom, and Christy bought us all ice cream. We boarded the bus and headed back to San Salvador for an afternoon at UCA, the Universidad de Centroamerica. We ate lunch in an outdoor dining hall. I had a chicken tamal (lacking much chicken) and a salad with dressing. This was the equivalent of dining hall food – not the best.

After lunch, we had a small tour of the campus. We visited the bookstore, the chapel, and the museum. UCA has great significance in the history of El Salvador. In 1989, 6 Jesuit priests and a housekeeper and her daughter were brutally assassinated. 26 mercenaries entered the grounds around midnight and sought out the fathers. In addition, they destroyed books, lit fires, and destroyed everything in their path. The mercenaries did not expect the two women to be there but killed them anyway. The museum displays the clothing worn by each victim and some of their personal effects – watches, bibles, IDs, and books. There are also grass samples with each of their blood and the bullets that killed them. The archives contain several photo albums of the massacre. These were taking the following morning to document and remember this brutality. The husband of the housekeeper was the first to find them the morning after. He later planted roses where they died – red roses for the priests and yellow roses for the women. The roses were not in bloom when we passed through the garden but I remember this very vividly from my past visits.

We were joined in after our tour by a current professor, Pauline Martin. She is a US citizen who teaches at UCA and has been living in El Salvador for the past 19 years. She traveled through the 5 Central American countries in a semester abroad and was drawn to El Salvador. She shared with us her path to her work in El Salvador and some lasting thoughts. Her presentation was geared to answer “now what?” about what to do with our experience. She referenced the strong bond that we now all share after this experience and that we will need to continue to talk to one another and other’s with a similar experience who will understand what we have seen and learned. She also emphasized that guilt is not the correct reaction. Any little thing you can do to contribute with help. It was a great way to end our trip with some self-reflection. I felt stuck the first time I returned from El Salvador. I had learned so much and could not convey all my emotions and experiences effectively to others. When I returned, I did find a connection to new friends with similar experiences. I also still feel a strong connection to the people I traveled with. Now with medical school admissions looming, I have been thinking a lot about working with latinos living in the States as well as traveling back through Central America (sorry, mom and dad).

El Salvador Day 8: Cinquera

After a good night’s rest, I was ready for our last trip. After breakfast we headed to a community called Cinquera in the department of Cabanas. About an hour into the drive, we passed through Suchitoto (my favorite city in El Salvador). We paused here briefly to visit the church and pick up a birthday present for Jefe. We sang him happy birthday after boarding the bus again and passed out pastries. From Suchitoto we drove along Lago Suchitlan for another hour to Cinquera. We arrived at the hostel, which is a developing project of the community, and met with a community leader Don Pablo. Don Pablo shared the history of Cinquera and their struggles during the war. This story lasted nearly three hours with a break for lunch in the middle. I am going to do my best to summarize what he said.

History of Cinquera

Don Pablo began my sharing the conditions of his people before the conflict. In the 1970s and before, the people in Cinquera lived in very simple conditions (they still do). They did not own any of their own land and worked on land owned by the wealthy families of El Salvador. Seasonally, the people would migrate to the other regions of the country to harvest coffee and other crops. People would often sell animals or mortgage their homes to get money to fee the transportation fare. When they arrived at the fincas, the people formed long lines to enroll in the finca for the season. Each finca had a limited number of paying positions. After the paid positions were filled, the remaining people in line were told there were no more positions. They could not afford to return home since they spent all their money to arrive. They begged the duenos of the fincas to allow them to stay and work the land in exchange for food and lodging. Of course, the duenos agreed to unpaid labor. All of the campesinos worked long hours and lived in terrible conditions. They lived several hundred to a dormitory without beds or bathrooms. Every two weeks, they were able to bath and receive payment. This meant the housing was incredibly smelly and dirty. Disease was common, especially infections from poor sanitations. People wore the same clothes and hot, rubber, boots for two weeks – can you imagine? The people also slept shoulder to shoulder on the floor, amongst the filth. Each person received tortilla and beans daily and very little water. They were often very hungry and weak. As people began to organize, one person would question the masses, “what more do we want?” and the people would respond, “one egg” or “more water.” But there was fear of retaliation by the armed guards who supervised the campesinos. The workers could not contest their payment either. The finca managers measured the amount of coffee collected not by weight but by depth of the coffee in the basket. It did not matter if your basket with wider or not. They stuck a measuring stick into your basket but used the tip of their thumb as the reference line. This resulted in nearly 25 pounds of coffee not being recorded per person. If a campesino argued, they would be made an example of through violence in front of the others.

In the decades leading up to the war, young men were required to participate in the military. They served in local groups of 25 men and traveled to other communities to “recruit” other young men. The men were brainwashed to believe that they were strong and deserving. When they returned home to their wives and girlfriends, they were abusive and forceful, contributing to the machismo culture. The men treated their wives in the same way they were treated by higher ranking military officials – with brute force. This practice of recruitment would continue through the armed conflict.

*warning graphic descriptions. As the nation’s tensions were rising in the late ‘70s, a few locales began to speak out against the actions the colonel was taking on the community. The acts of severe violence against the people began to rise. One was a 16-year-old girl. She was kidnapped, raped and tortured for 3 days, then left on the bridge over the river after they cut off her ears, nose, and tongue and shot her. Another woman was tied to a chair and they peeled the skin from her head and chest then left her to be eaten alive by animals. In another case, they collected all the women and children. The soldiers would hold the children up by their feet, chop off their heads with a machete, and then drop them into the latrine. The women had their arms chopped off, were killed, and dropped into the latrine as well. These atrocities and massacres are not common only in Cinquera but many regions of El Salvador.

The people of Cinquera began to organize and work with other communities to share information. In the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, the Catholic Church was beginning to spread the doctrine of liberation theology, which represents Jesus’ struggle as a struggle of the people. The local priests began to spread the stories of the Bible in the context of the people’s repression. The fathers used the Bible as a tool for increasing literacy in the communities as well. In Cinquera, the newly arrived father at the start of the conflict gifted a Bible to every family. However, this liberation theology divided the Church. Not all of the priests believed this doctrine should be promoted. This caused problems with the Church. Priests who taught this theology were often persecuted by military officials. Some priests passed important information for community meetings and the names of community leaders onto the local colonel.

In the years of the armed conflict 1981-1992, Cinquera was considered part of the “red zone” where the fighting took place. The people were caught in the middle of it. Some chose to join the guerrilla resistance movement which lived in the nearby mountainside, some were recruited to the military, and others fled. Before the conflict some 6000 people lived in Cinquera. Now there are less than 2000, some of whom did not live in Cinquera before the war. There are remnants of house foundations, bomb shells, and rubble in town. Today there are many murals to commemorate the community leaders who stood up for Cinquera and the names of people lost in the massacres. The church bell tower remains in the condition during the war and a new church has been built around it. The idea of community memory is very strong.

Don Pablo shared the story of his people with great passion and calm. He himself was captured 4 times and he lost 2 daughters and 2 sons during the warm. A third son took his own life after the conflict ended “so as not to be a burden on his family.” Don Pablo has recorded this story on a disc and shares it freely with guests of Cinquera and other communities. He is a wealth of information and leadership for his community. Unfortunately, my summary is missing several details and the strength he compelled.

Cinquera Forest Reserve

After of conversation with Don Pablo, we changed into our bathing suits and walked down the road to the entrance to the Cinquera Ecotourism Park. We met with Rafael, our guide, who gave us a brief history of the park before we set out on a hike to the waterfall to swim (it was really hot and sticky).

In the time before the armed conflict and to this day, Cinquera is a community based on agriculture and maize cultivation. People often cut down trees to create new farmland. During the conflict, people stopped farming and the trees were allowed to grow freely. As the trees grew taller, people – campesinos and guerillas alike – used the trees to hide themselves from passing helicopters. When the Peace Accords were signed in 1992, the people of Cinquera saw a great respect for the forest which had grown and protected them. At this time, there are also 120+ species of birds and 50+ species of butterflies living in the forest. Some of the people, including Rafael, worked very hard to create this nature reserve to protect the biodiversity.

After our presentation, we set out on the trail. We walked alongside a river and crossed over it a few times – once on a very wobbly suspension bridge and twice on stone pillars that you had to step from one to the next. As we climbed the trail, we paused along way and various education points. The first was a large series of pilas (concrete basins) used in the late 1800s for producing indigo. The indigo plant was washed, stamped on like grapes to make wine, and dried here. The second destination was to recognize an endangered tree. The fruit of this tree provide sustenance for many birds and bats. Along side the tree was the grave of an unidentified person discovered when they were putting water pipes into the mountain and a trench where guerrilla soldiers hid during the conflict. The next destination was the “Vietnam kitchen.” In 1987, this kitchen was used by guerrilla soldiers. It employed a technique for disseminating the smoke from the cooking that made it look like fog. It was incredibly important for the guerrilla forces to hide their location and smoke was a huge giveaway. The technique involved long tunnels dug into the mountain with shingles as the roof. The shingles were separated by rocks to create air pockets for the smoke to escape slowly into the soil. Apparently this technique was used in Vietnam and gave the location its name. We continued up the trail to an encampment also used in 1987. This guerrilla encampment also served as a hospital. They constructed operating tables out of bamboo and used a unique shape to cover the patient from rain or hide the lantern light at night. Rafael told us that the guerrillas built their tents out of stakes and plastic. The tents were very low to the ground and you had to crawl underneath to enter. In the camp, you were not allowed to use people’s names nor lights after it got dark. The last destination on our hike was a look out point at the top of the mountain. From there we could see the sunset and Lago Suchitlan. It was very beautiful but required us to climb some 30 steps in a wiggly structure to see above the trees.

As we descended the trail, the little remaining sunlight was blocked by the trees and it was quite dark. We walked slowly and got separated from the front of the group. This was not a problem because the trail was easy to follow. However, at the split to return to where we started or to continue on to the waterfall, we had to make a decision. I was frustrated no one from the front group stayed behind at the trail division to tell us which way they went. We assumed with the darkness they all headed back to the trail head. When we arrived there, they were not there. Jefe, Sarita, and I retraced our steps on the trail to go back to the waterfall. The other group was surprised we arrived so late and hadn’t considered staying back on the trail. They had already gone for a quick swim in the waterfall and were ready to walk back. I was super bummed because I wanted to swim in the waterfall but could not since everyone was leaving. By this time, it was really dark and we traversed the rock steps with the illumination of Aeja’s iPod and our guide’s cell phone. But we all made it back in one piece.

I took a quick shower before dinner as the rain began to fall. After dinner, we celebrated Jefe’s birthday with another song and cake. He was happy. Shortly there after, I went to my room, read for a short bit, and was ready to go to sleep.

El Salvador Day 8: Cinquera

After a good night’s rest, I was ready for our last trip. After breakfast we headed to a community called Cinquera in the department of Cabanas. About an hour into the drive, we passed through Suchitoto (my favorite city in El Salvador). We paused here briefly to visit the church and pick up a birthday present for Jefe. We sang him happy birthday after boarding the bus again and passed out pastries. From Suchitoto we drove along Lago Suchitlan for another hour to Cinquera. We arrived at the hostel, which is a developing project of the community, and met with a community leader Don Pablo. Don Pablo shared the history of Cinquera and their struggles during the war. This story lasted nearly three hours with a break for lunch in the middle. I am going to do my best to summarize what he said.

History of Cinquera

Don Pablo began my sharing the conditions of his people before the conflict. In the 1970s and before, the people in Cinquera lived in very simple conditions (they still do). They did not own any of their own land and worked on land owned by the wealthy families of El Salvador. Seasonally, the people would migrate to the other regions of the country to harvest coffee and other crops. People would often sell animals or mortgage their homes to get money to fee the transportation fare. When they arrived at the fincas, the people formed long lines to enroll in the finca for the season. Each finca had a limited number of paying positions. After the paid positions were filled, the remaining people in line were told there were no more positions. They could not afford to return home since they spent all their money to arrive. They begged the duenos of the fincas to allow them to stay and work the land in exchange for food and lodging. Of course, the duenos agreed to unpaid labor. All of the campesinos worked long hours and lived in terrible conditions. They lived several hundred to a dormitory without beds or bathrooms. Every two weeks, they were able to bath and receive payment. This meant the housing was incredibly smelly and dirty. Disease was common, especially infections from poor sanitations. People wore the same clothes and hot, rubber, boots for two weeks – can you imagine? The people also slept shoulder to shoulder on the floor, amongst the filth. Each person received tortilla and beans daily and very little water. They were often very hungry and weak. As people began to organize, one person would question the masses, “what more do we want?” and the people would respond, “one egg” or “more water.” But there was fear of retaliation by the armed guards who supervised the campesinos. The workers could not contest their payment either. The finca managers measured the amount of coffee collected not by weight but by depth of the coffee in the basket. It did not matter if your basket with wider or not. They stuck a measuring stick into your basket but used the tip of their thumb as the reference line. This resulted in nearly 25 pounds of coffee not being recorded per person. If a campesino argued, they would be made an example of through violence in front of the others.

In the decades leading up to the war, young men were required to participate in the military. They served in local groups of 25 men and traveled to other communities to “recruit” other young men. The men were brainwashed to believe that they were strong and deserving. When they returned home to their wives and girlfriends, they were abusive and forceful, contributing to the machismo culture. The men treated their wives in the same way they were treated by higher ranking military officials – with brute force. This practice of recruitment would continue through the armed conflict.

*warning graphic descriptions. As the nation’s tensions were rising in the late ‘70s, a few locales began to speak out against the actions the colonel was taking on the community. The acts of severe violence against the people began to rise. One was a 16-year-old girl. She was kidnapped, raped and tortured for 3 days, then left on the bridge over the river after they cut off her ears, nose, and tongue and shot her. Another woman was tied to a chair and they peeled the skin from her head and chest then left her to be eaten alive by animals. In another case, they collected all the women and children. The soldiers would hold the children up by their feet, chop off their heads with a machete, and then drop them into the latrine. The women had their arms chopped off, were killed, and dropped into the latrine as well. These atrocities and massacres are not common only in Cinquera but many regions of El Salvador.

The people of Cinquera began to organize and work with other communities to share information. In the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, the Catholic Church was beginning to spread the doctrine of liberation theology, which represents Jesus’ struggle as a struggle of the people. The local priests began to spread the stories of the Bible in the context of the people’s repression. The fathers used the Bible as a tool for increasing literacy in the communities as well. In Cinquera, the newly arrived father at the start of the conflict gifted a Bible to every family. However, this liberation theology divided the Church. Not all of the priests believed this doctrine should be promoted. This caused problems with the Church. Priests who taught this theology were often persecuted by military officials. Some priests passed important information for community meetings and the names of community leaders onto the local colonel.

In the years of the armed conflict 1981-1992, Cinquera was considered part of the “red zone” where the fighting took place. The people were caught in the middle of it. Some chose to join the guerrilla resistance movement which lived in the nearby mountainside, some were recruited to the military, and others fled. Before the conflict some 6000 people lived in Cinquera. Now there are less than 2000, some of whom did not live in Cinquera before the war. There are remnants of house foundations, bomb shells, and rubble in town. Today there are many murals to commemorate the community leaders who stood up for Cinquera and the names of people lost in the massacres. The church bell tower remains in the condition during the war and a new church has been built around it. The idea of community memory is very strong.

Don Pablo shared the story of his people with great passion and calm. He himself was captured 4 times and he lost 2 daughters and 2 sons during the warm. A third son took his own life after the conflict ended “so as not to be a burden on his family.” Don Pablo has recorded this story on a disc and shares it freely with guests of Cinquera and other communities. He is a wealth of information and leadership for his community. Unfortunately, my summary is missing several details and the strength he compelled.

Cinquera Forest Reserve

After of conversation with Don Pablo, we changed into our bathing suits and walked down the road to the entrance to the Cinquera Ecotourism Park. We met with Rafael, our guide, who gave us a brief history of the park before we set out on a hike to the waterfall to swim (it was really hot and sticky).

In the time before the armed conflict and to this day, Cinquera is a community based on agriculture and maize cultivation. People often cut down trees to create new farmland. During the conflict, people stopped farming and the trees were allowed to grow freely. As the trees grew taller, people – campesinos and guerillas alike – used the trees to hide themselves from passing helicopters. When the Peace Accords were signed in 1992, the people of Cinquera saw a great respect for the forest which had grown and protected them. At this time, there are also 120+ species of birds and 50+ species of butterflies living in the forest. Some of the people, including Rafael, worked very hard to create this nature reserve to protect the biodiversity.

After our presentation, we set out on the trail. We walked alongside a river and crossed over it a few times – once on a very wobbly suspension bridge and twice on stone pillars that you had to step from one to the next. As we climbed the trail, we paused along way and various education points. The first was a large series of pilas (concrete basins) used in the late 1800s for producing indigo. The indigo plant was washed, stamped on like grapes to make wine, and dried here. The second destination was to recognize an endangered tree. The fruit of this tree provide sustenance for many birds and bats. Along side the tree was the grave of an unidentified person discovered when they were putting water pipes into the mountain and a trench where guerrilla soldiers hid during the conflict. The next destination was the “Vietnam kitchen.” In 1987, this kitchen was used by guerrilla soldiers. It employed a technique for disseminating the smoke from the cooking that made it look like fog. It was incredibly important for the guerrilla forces to hide their location and smoke was a huge giveaway. The technique involved long tunnels dug into the mountain with shingles as the roof. The shingles were separated by rocks to create air pockets for the smoke to escape slowly into the soil. Apparently this technique was used in Vietnam and gave the location its name. We continued up the trail to an encampment also used in 1987. This guerrilla encampment also served as a hospital. They constructed operating tables out of bamboo and used a unique shape to cover the patient from rain or hide the lantern light at night. Rafael told us that the guerrillas built their tents out of stakes and plastic. The tents were very low to the ground and you had to crawl underneath to enter. In the camp, you were not allowed to use people’s names nor lights after it got dark. The last destination on our hike was a look out point at the top of the mountain. From there we could see the sunset and Lago Suchitlan. It was very beautiful but required us to climb some 30 steps in a wiggly structure to see above the trees.

As we descended the trail, the little remaining sunlight was blocked by the trees and it was quite dark. We walked slowly and got separated from the front of the group. This was not a problem because the trail was easy to follow. However, at the split to return to where we started or to continue on to the waterfall, we had to make a decision. I was frustrated no one from the front group stayed behind at the trail division to tell us which way they went. We assumed with the darkness they all headed back to the trail head. When we arrived there, they were not there. Jefe, Sarita, and I retraced our steps on the trail to go back to the waterfall. The other group was surprised we arrived so late and hadn’t considered staying back on the trail. They had already gone for a quick swim in the waterfall and were ready to walk back. I was super bummed because I wanted to swim in the waterfall but could not since everyone was leaving. By this time, it was really dark and we traversed the rock steps with the illumination of Aeja’s iPod and our guide’s cell phone. But we all made it back in one piece.

I took a quick shower before dinner as the rain began to fall. After dinner, we celebrated Jefe’s birthday with another song and cake. He was happy. Shortly there after, I went to my room, read for a short bit, and was ready to go to sleep.

El Salvador Day 7: El Zonte Playa

Today was a day filled with relaxation. I woke up without an alarm – only the chirping of birds. I put on my swimsuit and headed to the beach. By 830am, I was already melting and ready to jump in the waves. After a brief swim and reading, we had breakfast. I ate a fruit salad and bread with honey.

The first beach adventure of the day was surfing. I rented a board from our hostel for $10 and thought I would give it a shot. Not learning to surf is one of my regrets while living in LA. I had seen it done a thousand times and figured I could pick up some tips from Logan and Molly. I followed after Molly, paddling against the waves out past where the waves break. We both laughed about how out of shape we felt and how exhausting it was to paddle (my shoulders were nice and sore the next day). We decided to go over by Logan on the other side of a rock projection and surf there. This was quite the paddle. After a brief rest, I was ready. I tried to sit on the board but my balance was terrible. I think it was combination of exhaustion, the board being a bit too wide, and lack of experience. I was feeling confident but a bit nervous about this whole thing. I figured I would just wing it and it would be fine. However, on this side, the waves were bigger. While waiting for a wave, I got rocked by what I thought was a huge wave (maybe 3 feet). I got knocked from on top of my board and sucked under. I could feel my board being pulled away and freaked out a bit. I knew to remain calm and I would be able to surface soon to catch my breath. I didn’t know if my board was going to drag me along or not. I decided to undo the board’s leash from my ankle and decided I would just rather pay to replace the board. When I surfaced, there was a second wave crashing over me and I held onto the leash with my hand. I knew I needed to get back out to the ocean before the waves broke. This was difficult considering I was now holding the leash of my board and my swimsuit top had come undone. I made it back out and decided I wasn’t ready for all of this. To compound all that, my foot was bleeding. I think I must have kicked the fins in all the tumbling. In order to get back to the beach, I had to paddle back over to the other side. I was pretty shaken from the crash and utterly exhausted. I was paddling against the current and my arms were so tired. I was worried I would get sucked into the current near the rocks and not be able to make it. On my way back, I got rocked by another wave. This time I got back on my board much quicker but was so exhausted. I think adrenaline was a big help. After a short bit, I realized I was able to stand and walked into the shore. I was thankful to have my feet grounded and relaxed. The salt water was no help to my foot which just continued to bleed. I went up to the hostel before lunch and cleaned it off. No pain, just lots of blood. I read in a hammock before lunch. I still really want to try surfing again but I am going to start with something smaller and a teacher. Perhaps I will go visit Logan in Costa Rica and try this all again.

For lunch, I ate a delicious kabob of steak, green peppers, and onions covered in garlic. I also enjoyed a cold orange Crush. After lunch, I went back to the beach. I spent the afternoon taking in the sun and reading. The ocean was beautiful. As the sun was starting to set, some local fisherman came to the beach and put their boats in. They catch all the local seafood we ate the hostel and sell some to the local families as well. Just before the sunset, I took a quick shower to rinse the salt off and changed for our ride back to the city. We all sat together on the beach and watched the sun go down. We took a million pictures and tried to be creative with the shadows.

As the darkness fell and the stars came out, we headed up the stairs for dinner. We ate paella of fish, chicken, beef, shrimp, and crab. It was a bit crunchy but quite good. Then it was time to pack up our stuff and head back to San Salvador. We were all exhausted and pink for our day in the sun. It was nice to go back to a warm shower and bed sand-free. I slept really well.

El Salvador Day 6: Congreso and Embassy

Monday was a day of politics. This day was totally different than anything we had done before. We had to get dressed up and spent all day in and out of meetings with various politicians and officials. We spent the morning at the Legislature of El Salvador and the afternoon at the US Embassy.

Congreso

We arrived at the Legislature after breakfast and had to wait to be escorted onto the grounds. I would be skeptical of a micro full of gringos, too. We were met by a representative who would be host throughout the day. She first gave us a tour of the building. There are five floors – two of the five are the meeting rooms of the comisiones legislative committees, the others for the political parties. Each of the meeting rooms includes a large table surrounded by chairs and microphones. All the walls of the conference room are made of glass and we looked into the room for the only side accessible by the public and press. After we visited the Blue Room, where the Congress meets. It shares some similarities with the legislative buildings in the States. Each representative has an assigned seat organized by party affiliation. There are 14 secretaries and a president elected from within the representatives who sit in the front. The room is decorated with the shield of each department (state) and has space for public and press viewing. The atrium leading into this room is decorated by paintings and sculptures.

Our first meeting was with Diputado (Congressmen) ____ from ARENA, the right-wing party. The ARENA party has dominated the political scene since the armed conflict and the time following. They are traditionally aligned with the foreign policy strategy of the United States and serve the interests of the wealthy minority of the country. We waited for the diputado in a conference room dedicated to the party founder. The walls are covered with his pictures, quotes, and paraphernalia for the political party. This meeting did not have much of an introduction but was merely a question and answer session. We met around the circle and each asked a question to which he responded. And by respond, I mean said something – rarely did he actually answer the question you asked. Our questions revolved around the current state of education, health, and immigration. He did not know about many public welfare programs nor seem interested in expanding access to public education. He mentioned that people without education were sin calidad (without caliber or quality). His favorite US president was Regan and he does not think highly of Obama. In general, he was not in favor of the social changes that the nation needs, in my opinion. This meeting lasted nearly 2 hours and I found it difficult to sort through all the political jargon in Spanish.

The second meet was with _______ from FMLN, the left-wing party. The FMLN, also known as the Frente, was formed by the guerrillas during the conflict and is growing in representation in the government. The first FMLN president was elected in 2009 but he has not lived up to the expectations that many FMLN-supporters held for him. He is very moderate and not making the changes that are needed. This meeting was held is a very simple conference room. There were photographs of the diputados from the party for each election cycle and a poster commemorated Farabundo Marti, for which the party is named. He was a community leader killed in the 1932 rebellion against the dictatorship. This meeting began with nearly an hour presentation of the history of the people’s struggle from the ‘30s up through the armed conflict. Although this was informative, we had already heard this story and were eager to answer questions. In this history there was mention of development of a new public health system modeled after Cuba and a distinction between el pueblo de los Estados Unidos (the people) and el gobierno (the government, signifying he does not blame us as visitors but our government for the $1 million invested daily in the Salvadoran military during the conflict. In the end we were able to ask some similar questions from before about education, health, and immigration. He mentioned a recent program to provide shoes and uniforms to every family. Without these things, children cannot attend public school. This program also creates jobs for Salvadoranos to create these uniforms. (However, this program has seen a delay in delivery of providing these uniforms to families). He also referenced the large number of remesas (remittances) coming from Salvadorenos abroad back to family members still in the country and the problem this poses when a family’s income is based on money sent from someone else rather than a job. This meeting was more rushed because the previous started last and went long so we could not talk as extensively as we wanted to.

Our two meetings ended with thank-you’s and included group photos with the representatives. Ultimately, from this experience, I am taking away a giant disconnect between the people in power and the needs of the majority. I am clearly in support of the FMLN position but it is disheartening how little they are changing in the nation with a president and Congressional majority.

US Embassy

From there, we headed to the Soya project for lunch. This was our last lunch at the project and I am really glad we were able to support them. After lunch it was off to the US Embassy. Before the conflict, the US occupied a large grey structure near the center of San Salvador but after the war needed more space. The old embassy has since become a bank. With the need for space, the US embassy occupied land outside of city in another department entirely, La Libertad. On our way to the embassy, we passed the shopping center that I visited on my second trip. We had had a group argument there about whether or not to go to a dance club across the street from a Lamborgini and Ferrari dealership. In the daylight I could see that on the other side of the freeway from this shopping center is a slum without electricity or potable water. All of the homes are made of tin and cardboard. Christy told us that the developers want to keep moving these people out because their homes are an eye-sore for visitors to the shopping center. Around ten minutes down the road and we arrived at the embassy. The US embassy is a behemoth of a complex. It is several city-blocks and includes many buildings.

To enter the embassy, we formed a line in the order indicated on the entrance log. We went through two different metal detectors and then had to trade our passports for a visitor’s badge. Between the two detectors we passed through an outdoor walkway past a tent covering rows of chairs. Some 300 Salvadorenos arrive each day each bringing $1200 to sit in these chairs in hopes of receiving a visa to the US. Something like less than 10 received a visa. With our badges, we sat in a waiting area for thirty minutes. We were then escorted with a ratio of 1 embassy employee to 3 of us to the elevator and to a conference room. We were escorted in the same ratio to the restroom as well. The conference room and offices we passed looked like any other office building – cubicles, new computers, secretaries, and offices with windows looking out at others. The conference room was very bright and had a Smartboard. Our meeting here was with the director of USAID, a government program that provides international aid and support in developing countries. The biggest downside of this meeting was that this director was only temporary and had only been in El Salvador for 3 weeks. The El Salvador office is the largest in Central America and serves as the regional office. However, with her limited time, she could not tell us any concrete information about the details or success of the programs they provide. The emphasis in El Salvador is on violence prevention but this comes in the form of cleaning up parks or teaching ex-prisoners vocational skills. This does not include basic education or health services which would reduce poverty levels and prevent people for turning to theft, drugs, or other crime as an option. We quickly realized that she could not answer any of our questions about El Salvador so we asked her about her past experiences. She was a Peace Corp member in ’79-’81 in Peru and worked with farmers and treated sick animals. She worked in Guatemala with coffee farmers and says the programs she started are still successful. She spent time in Jamaica and Haiti. Although El Salvador is currently ranked the most violent country in the world, she said she cannot feel the violence in the same way she did in Jamaica. She said in Jamaica, Americans were targeted and she had a private guard with her at all times. To me this seems outrageous to dedicate taxpayer dollars to your protection and risk the life of someone else. I also think she cannot feel the violence in El Salvador because she lives in the bubble of the Embassy in a very nice part of town. She would feel the violence if she road city buses or lived with the people. She also spoke to us in English and I feel like this was another indicator of her disconnect with the culture of Central America. In general what I am taking away from this presentation is that USAID does not have enough money to fund effective programs and the way the money is being used is not for the right projects. There is too much bureaucracy to prevent any real change from happening. I feel like the US government says they are helping but not presenting that their projects are actually unsuccessful. This presentation and the book I read The End of Poverty makes we want to do more investigations about international aid – how much is needed and how it is used. I think most people in our group were pretty frustrated by this presentation, especially after seeing the local government isn’t doing much to help either.

After leaving the embassy, we walked along the length of the building as we were passed by Audis and BMWs on the street. Christy had doughnuts waiting for us and we boarded the bus for the beach. We were all ready for some much needed rest and reflection time. We arrived in El Zonte about an hour later and moved all of our things into our room. I shared a room with Rachel, Harim, and Kate. We ordered dinner then went to explore the beach. The sun had already set but the beach was lit by the millions of stars. The water was warm and not too strong.

For dinner, I enjoyed garlic shrimp, salad, rice, and Sangria. This was the only night of the trip we were allowed to have any alcohol. Everyone was excited for a cold beer after a warm day and listening to the crashing waves. After dinner, we had a reflection. We went around the circle and shared a word to represent our feelings about the weekend in Estanzuelas, about the day of politics, and about the beach (grateful, frustrated, and relaxed). We then got into a conversation about our reactions to the community being some welcoming versus what we heard in the government. We concluded the reflection and changed gears to more relaxation and fun. We danced, drank, and chit chatted until late into the night. We created a dance of the most common dances each person in our group does, taught Sherry some new moves, and practiced our salsa routine. At the end of the day, I was exhausted.

El Salvador Day 5: Estanzuelas

coming soon...

El Salvador Day 4: Estanzuelas

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El Salvador Day 3: Memorial and Estanzuelas

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El Salvador Day 2: Monsenor Romero

coming soon..

El Salvador Day 1: Travel

coming soon..

Barriletes en Sampango

November 1 is Todos Los Santos (All Saint’s Day). I observed two common traditions on this day – visiting the cemetery and flying kites. A few of us woke up early and headed to the cemetery around 630am. The usual very colorful cemetery was overflowing with people, flowers, and food. The streets leading up to the gates were filled with people selling wreaths, flowers, food, toys, CDs, and more. All around the cemetery family members were leaving flowers and favorite foods of loved ones lost, repainting tombs, and celebrating. Harim, Sherry, and I ran into our Spanish school’s family. They invited us to join them in visiting Mama Chaito’s husband’s tomb. As they continued on to the next family member, we broke away and wandered around. It was a surprisingly happy event for celebrating memories, not losses.

At 8am, we met the group at the fire station to head to Sumpango. Ten of us drove the two hours or so to a barrilete (kite) festival. The streets leading up to the field were overflowing with visitors, extranjeros (foreigners) and Guatemaltecos alike. This was the first time I had seen so many gringos who spoke only English. It is so strange to meet people who are traveling but cannot speak the language and have made no effort to learn. There were also vendors selling artisan crafts, food, and kites, of course. When we arrived at the field, there were already thousands of people on site. There were kites of all different sizes that were entered in the festival. They ranged in size for a few meters to 14 meters. Each of the kites is constructed from tissue paper and bamboo. The bigger kites require rope instead of string to fly them. We spent most of our time walking around and admiring the kites that were on display. The bright color depicted some religious scenes or important images to the people of Sumpango. A few of the smaller kites were flown throughout the day with men in the middle of the field. On the other side of the wall from the field, ninos were running around flying their own kites of plastic. I learned an interesting tradition about kites as well: If your kite does not fly, you must burn it. The kites are thought to carry away spirits of ancestors and the dead who bother you on the surface during this holiday. However, if the kite does not fly, the kite has not served its function.

As with all festivals, we ate lots of food. Kate brought us each cookies and bread stuffed with cheese and veggies made in Carlos’s bakery. Some people also bought elote, barbequed corn on the cob with lime and salt. We took in the sights, smells, and sun.

Early in the afternoon, we headed back to the micro and Xela. It was a beautiful day with the colorful kites contrasting the bright blue sky and clouds. Every day I continue to see children flying kites made from whatever materials they find in their house and yard. With the dry season comes lots of wind and sunshine.

Tulate

Warning: This entry is ridiculously long and detailed. Skip to the end for the highlights and facebook for more pictures.

This weekend was a free weekend with no scheduled activities. Hannah, Harim, Rachel, Sarah, Korrin, and I decided to take a trip to a new beach. We were craving a weekend of relaxation, reading, and waves. We had read about Tulate in a few books and asked around and decided it was our closest and best option. We left Saturday morning around 8am on foot. At the Rotunda, we picked up a micro to Las Rosas (1.25Q). From Las Rosas, we boarded a chicken bus for Mazate (20Q). Korrin and I are plenty familiar with this route as we travel to Las Rosas every day for our clinic transportation and have been through Mazate to get to the clinic in San Antonio. After an hour and a half, we arrived in Mazate. The day was getting warmer and the sun stronger – clear signs that we were now in la costa region. We waited on the next bus for nearly thirty minutes and headed to Tulate (15Q). This bus seemed to stop every ten minutes to pick up or drop off passengers. We took a twenty minute pause in the pueblito La Maquina and finally departed the bus where we saw a sign for the Eco Hotel. We had emailed the hotel the day before and the website looked great. After a twenty minute walk down a dirt path, we arrived at the hotel to find the gate locked around 1pm. The sign on the gate said “toque la bosina” but we did not see a bell, speaker, or notification device of any kind. We decided to walk down to the water, which was a tide pool left by the low tide. We scampered across rocks and sandbags around the neighbor’s yard to the other side of the hotel. The sandbags were clear evidence of the impact the heavy rains for the storm two weeks ago had on the region. As we entered the rusted gate, we were met by a woman. She was surprised by our arrival and had not received our email. She tried to show us two accommodations but did not have the correct keys. The other rooms were damaged by the rain. She also informed us that she did not have food to prepare for us either. She recommended we tried another hotel down the beach. We started to walk along the water, climbing over more rocks and sandbags, when a neighbor called our attention. She informed us the hotel we were seeking was also closed but offered to help us find a place. We loaded into her pickup and she drove us into town to find a hotel. The next hotel we arrived at was also closed. Our last option was to take a lancha (2.50Q) across the channel to the other side of Tulate. She dropped us off the lancha and we thanked her with 30Q for her help. She said the ride was a gift but we appreciated her assistance and we know how expensive gas is.

Around 2pm, we arrived in the beach of Tulate. We saw the rolling ocean and walked down a cobblestone path lined with restaurants and hotels. We realized that we had been in this less popular part of town. Unfortunately, this street was nearly empty. There were tables set up selling swim suits, sandals, and cold drinks but no one was there to buy it. When we arrived at the beach, two men approached us – both trying to convince us to come eat at their restaurant. We chose the one that offered the lower price and were happy to finally arrive at the beach. There were a few Guatemalan families enjoying food as well and swimming in the waves. After we ordered cold drinks, we took turns going down to the water’s edge. The water was cool and refreshing after the last hour of wandering, dripping with sweat, and carrying our backpacks. I ate a lunch of fried chicken, French fries, and cucumber salad with an orange soda (40Q). After lunch, we went in search of hotels. The first hospedaje we visited was set off the main road and completely empty, dirty, and pigs were roaming around (as they would be all day and night in Tulate). We then walked ten minutes down the beach to a hotel. This place was entirely different from the other – a pool with a slide, refrigerator with cold drinks, and clean rooms. Unfortunately this place was out of our price range (nearly 100Q/person) so we decided to go back to look at a final option. The third hospedaje we visited was just up the street from where we ate lunch. The mattresses were not in great shape but the girl had clean sheets to cover them with. We got three beds for the six of us and paid about 40Q each. We eagerly changed into our swimsuits around 3:30pm and headed down to finally swim in the ocean. The first plunge was so refreshing! We had finally made it! After some play time, I spent some time to myself watching the waves and napping. The beach made me think of my past trips to the beach and how relaxing it is. I thought about visiting the beach with some of my favorite people in LA – Alex Bucur, Alex Gayda, and Carmen Wong: Ms Bucur laying with her eyes closed, Ms Gayda laughing with her giant floppy beach hat she stole from her mom, and Ms Wong reading a trashy magazine.

As we watched the beautiful sunset around 530pm (really, one of the best I have seen), we discussed options for dinner. A few girls went back to the nice hotel to ask about prices and I went with a few to see what our options were near our hotel. The two restaurants that were open for lunch were closed but the owner of our hotel said she could cook us dinner around 8pm. The fancy hotel wanted to charge us 25Q to enter the hotel and then 50Q for a typical Guatemalan plate (rice, beans, eggs, tortillas) or 70Q+ for seafood dishes. We decided we had enough of the snobby hotel and wanted to help out our lady. Before the food was ready, we walked down the street back toward the lanchas to find a place to get a cold drink. All of the restaurants and homes were dark. A few tiendas were open selling packaged snacks. We finally came upon selling cold beers. Four girls enjoyed a cold Gallo and Harim and I enjoyed some cold Coca Cola (6Q) – very refreshing. We sat at a plastic table under the light of a local woman who owned the tienda enjoying our drinks and chatty away.

Around 8pm, we returned to our hotel. The streets at this point were disserted with the exception of a few groups of men. We could hear someone singing terrible karaoke and we all wished Harim was singing instead (she won a karaoke competition last week). Harim and I ate garlic shrimp with potatoes and salad (45Q), Korrin ate a fried fish with potatoes and salad (35Q), and Hannah, Sarah, and Rachel ate a caldo (stew) with a whole fish, crab, and some shrimp (35Q). Harim taught me her technique for peeling the shell off the shrimp so I had a more productive experience than the last time I ate shrimp in Tilapita. Everyone liked their food and we continued to chit chat. We complemented our meal with bolsas (bags) of aqua pura, which were COLD!

After dinner, we headed upstairs to go to bed. While brushing our teeth and needing to use the bathroom, we discovered that there was no running water, the toilet didn’t flush, and there was no toilet paper. The bathroom was the biggest downfall to the weekend. Luckily, a few of us had tissues in our backpacks and we were able to make do – although it was a much less than desirable experience. Easily the second worst bathroom of my life (first worse was the public bathroom at the cathedral in San Salvador). I shared a bed with Sarah and we read and chatted a bit before falling asleep. Between the feeling of insects crawling on me (which there weren’t), the desire to avoid the bathroom (which was impossible to hold it forever), and the clucking chickens (cock-a-doodle-doing all night), I did not sleep so well. A few hours here and there but lots of tossing and turning.

By 6am, we were all awake and looking to avoid the bathroom. We put our suits back on and headed down to the beach. There were no other people on the beach, but the entire town was already up and moving around. Rachel and Hannah went for a run while Sarah and I read on the beach. Harim and Korrin joined us and we all went swimming again. The sun was already starting to heat up the day and we wanted to take advantage of our last moments on the beach. With the little activity on the beach and our desire to get some work done, we decided to head back to Xela early. Around 8am, we were ready to head out. Someone asked about the water in the shower and the boy who lived at the hotel was able to get us some water upstairs. I took a body shower to wash off the salt and changed for the ride. We took the lancha back across and there was a bus waiting. Luckily the bus left shortly after we arrived around 830am. Unfortunately, we spent two and a half hours returning to Mazate. The bus stopped nearly every minute to pick someone up, we spent twenty minutes in a market area, and then had to drive very slowly because we had an engine issue. As soon as we arrived in Mazate, a bus was heading out to Xela. We were ushered aboard a crowded bus and squished into the last two rows. I was in and out of sleep as we went around the curves and back up the mountains. The little boy next to me fell asleep on my arm while I was sleeping on my backpack. At 1pm, we arrived back at Las Rosas and waited for a bus back toward the parque. I was eager to shower and eat some lunch.

Overall, I spent nearly 10 hours of my weekend in transit and used a disgusting bathroom more than once but I swam in the ocean and saw a beautiful sunset. I spent the evening enjoying great time with my newest family. In all, I spent 170Q ($22) for transportation, food, and lodging – T.I.G. This is Guatemala.

The Interview

One day, one interview, and one lasting hope.

I woke up at 530am at my friend Shin’s house and started my day with the best shower in 4 months – hot water and water pressure! I ate a small breakfast of banana blueberry bread my mom made and sent and got all put together in my interview duds. I walked 20 minutes down Massachusetts Avenue to the BU medical school campus. I followed another young person with a backpack in a suit and knew I was headed in the right direction.

Around 8am we all moved from the awkward fruit and coffee breakfast to a small auditorium. The dean of admissions at the medical school greeted the 36 of us. He immediately began to make jokes and tried to lighten the mood. He explained that we were not here to prove something to him but to learn about the school and see if we are a good fit for one another. He gave a history of the school, a variety of anecdotes with well-planned, cheesy jokes, and explained the course of events for the day.

Just after 9am, I went with half of the other interviewees back to the conference room in the admissions office. We spent the next hour chatting with a member of the faculty, Dr. Jodi Abbott, a high risk pregnancy ob-gyn. She wore quirky glasses, a bright pink scarf, and tight curls. This session was meant to be a Q & A about the school and Boston but we were all thinking about the interview. Fortunately, Dr. Abbott had lots to share about her experiences and supplied a few answers to commonly asked questions. She was lighthearted and very obviously passionate about her work and commitment to BU. I would choose her to be my doctor, mentor, or friend.

At 10am, I walked across the medical school quad to one of the ambulatory (out-patient) care centers to the urology department. After twenty minutes, Dr. Wang greeted me in his patient waiting room and we went to his office. Dr. David S. Wang is an urologist who specializes in robotics and minimally-invasive prostate procedures. On his desk was my application and photo staring back at me. He also had a full-page of notes and questions ready for me after reviewing my application. He began by asking me to give a brief summary of my life and how I came to be living in Guatemala. I then explained some of the significant things I have down recently – what I am doing in Guatemala, my teaching curriculum, my experiences as an RA. He also asked how I became interested in medicine. He continued with conversational questions for me to further explain why I chose to do things. With each story I told, he would end by saying, “Well we could talk about that for an hour. Let’s move on.” At one point, he mentioned that I was definitely not lacking in extracurricular and volunteer experiences (I took this to mean he was impressed with my background). He asked me some challenging questions: If you could not be a doctor ever, what would you do? Do you have any regrets from college? Have you had any ethical dilemmas recently? Of course, you have to answer strategically but confidently. I felt very comfortable with our conversation and I had to remind myself that this was an interview. He ended by asking me to explain my response to a situation where a son is translating for his father, the patient, but does not want to tell his father that he has cancer. After all of Dr. Wang’s questions, I asked a few questions about the opportunities to volunteer in the community and global health. Dr. Wang told me the programs available at BU were compatible with my interests. Dr. Wang also told me one of his favorite things about working at BU is that he treats CEOs and the poor in the same office (I really like this too). BU hospital’s mission is to provide equal care to every patient. After over an hour of interview time, I thanked Dr. Wang for his time and he gave me his card, offering that I email at any time.

After the interview, I rushed to lunch, to which I arrived late. Current first and second year students joined us to answer more questions and share their experiences. I really liked this part because you get a sense of the type of people who are students. I think I could be friends with them – how nice to go to a school I like with people I want to be friends with. Lunch was a simple sandwich and salad.

After lunch, fourth year students took us on a tour around the school. We visited the library, anatomy lab (I saw real cadavers for the first time!), student lounge, two hospital lobbies, auditorium for first year classes, and the testing room, which is actually the top floor with floor-to-ceiling windows and beautiful views of the city.

The afternoon concluded with two additional presentations in the conference room. The first was about finances – the cost of attending, scholarships, loans, etc. The average student leaves BU with $170,000 in student debt. Yay! The second was a wrap up by the dean. He assured us that he had an equally enjoyable day as we did and continued to emulate the message about finding students that were a good fit for BU. He explained the selection process and timeline for admission offers. They try to make the selection equitable without the date of interview giving preference for admission; this is different than most schools which have rolling admission. The dean also shared some staggering statistics. Of the 12,000 applicants this year, they will offer 1000 interviews for the 125 open seats in the incoming class (the other 55 seats will be filled from other affiliated programs). There are two groups of interview. The first group of interview ends in December, which includes about 600 interviews. At this time, the admissions committee with individually review each interviewee and decide to admit, reject, or defer decision. They will offer 1/3 of the incoming seats in mid January. In March, after the remaining interviews are given, they will send a second round of decisions to admit, reject, or waitlist. If you were deferred in the first round, your application will be re-reviewed in the second round. If you are waitlisted, you have a high chance of being admitted if you are patient and continue to show interest in the school. We were all encouraged to update our applications whenever necessary to provide the admissions committee with the most information possible.

After the closing remarks, I stuck around with about 8 other people who were interested in learning more about the combined MD-MPH (Masters in Public Health) program. It is an additional year of school but you receive your credits at a discounted rate from BU’s Public Health School (ranked 2^nd or 3^rd in the nation). This is an option I would consider if I attend BU. It is also offered at a few of the other schools I applied to.

Ultimately, I LOVED Boston University. Their mission and impact on the community really resonates with me and the type of doctor I want to be. There are few places in the States where doctors are providing top-of-the-line medical care to uninsured or poor patients because they are equally deserving of great treatment, not just those who are insured or can afford it. I’m keeping my fingers crossed and plan to update my application after I finish Somos and have commitments for the spring.

Boston

The bottom line up front … I loved Boston University, I loved the city (as many of you have known for a long time), and I would love to spend the next 4 years of my life there.

I arrived in Boston late Friday night after rushing through customs in Atlanta, only to find that my flight had been delayed and I had plenty of time to get dinner and coffee (first Starbucks latte in 4 months!). My amazing friend from USC, Rohin, picked me up at the airport and we went to his house. I spent Friday and Saturday nights at the lovely abode of Rohin and John. Rohin and I chatted a bit and enjoyed some of the peanut butter thumb print cookies my mom sent before heading to bed.

Saturday was a day of football. Rohin and I woke up early to head to Rohin’s flag football games in South Boston. We went to Starbucks (obviously, my addiction is back) and a local Mexican place to pick up breakfast burritos. We went to the T and our burritos on board. After a short bus ride and walk, we arrived at the field. I enjoyed my coffee as Rohin and the other hundred men in matching jerseys warmed up. I watched both of his games from the sidelines and chatted with a few of his teammates and their friends who were also watching. Unfortunately his team lost both games but it was a lot of fun to watch. Some people had more experience than others but everyone had a good time. After the games, we headed back to Porter Square, near Rohin’s house. We picked up a few things for the party and had lunch with another USC friend, Shin. I enjoyed pad thai noodles and diet coke. I had been thinking about Thai food for about a month and it was so delicious! Rohin and I spent Saturday afternoon going to the grocery store and cooking two HUGE trays of lasagna and two giant pitchers of sangria. About 25 people came over to watch the USC-Notre Dame football game. The majority were John’s Harvard Law friends and were not really interested in the game. I did meet a couple from So Cal who were Trojan fans and two other great friends from college came over too. Eric, Eric’s girlfriend Jensen, and Sierra came! Eric and I were kines majors together and worked on the Spirits in Action committee a long time and Sierra I have known each other since the dorms and four years of crazy good times. It was so nice to watch a college football game (my first SC game of the season) and with good company. And we won! After stuffing myself with lasagna, caramel brownies, and sangria, I was ready for bed.

Sunday afternoon was a bit of a lazy transition day. I slept in then Rohin and I went to Target. I had a pretty extensive list of things I wanted to take back to Guatemala – most things were for myself but some things were for other friends and teachers. Lotion, body wash, and contact solution all exist in Guatemala but are very expensive. Some of the other thins I bought were more comfort items, slippers to wear around the house, headbands for the gym, and magazines. I also bought a digital camera for my host mom as an early Christmas present (she was so shocked Hannah and I wanted to gift it to her – she almost cried). I also bought two giant bags of Halloween candy to bring a bit of home back to my new home and share with everyone. After lasagna leftovers for lunch, Rohin and John drove me to Shin’s house. He lives very close to BU and closer to the airport so it made the most sense to stay with him Sunday and Monday nights. Shin had some work to do so I dropped me stuff and headed out. I used my walking time to take in some of the sights of Boston and catch up on some needed phone calls. I miss my people! I met up with Eric and Jensen at the Head of the Charles, a famous crew race on the Charles River. It was amazing how fast those people can move. We walked along the course from BU undergrad campus to Harvard Square. I headed back on the T to Boston Common. I wandered around, did some window shopping, and ended up at the Tufts Medical School. I met up with Sierra again and she gave me a brief tour of the school and her dorm. We then went out to dinner with Shin at brew house in the area. I ate a barbeque pulled pork sandwich – yummy. After dinner, Shin showed me the BU medical campus and the route to walk their in the morning from his apartment. I stayed up late re-reading interview responses and information about the school. I was too nervous to do much else but finally decided on sleep.

Monday I woke up early and spent most of the day at BU for my interview. See the interview blog for more details on that. After the interview, I changed out of my suit into some more comfortable clothes and set off for Boston Common and Newberry Street. I pick stopped at yet another Starbucks and enjoyed my stroll down the tree-lined streets with different colored leaves. I also made a few phone calls during this walk. On Newberry, I bought some essential items and some not so essential items and did some window shopping. I do not even want to know how much the Kate Spade bag I looked at would cost in quetzales – way too much! I returned to a shoe storm I had been to the day before and gave in to their deal. I bought some Sperry rain boots and another pair of Toms for half off! Luckily, I was shipping my suit back to my mom so the boots were just another item in the box. After Rohin got off work, I headed back to his place to pick up the rest of my stuff. I had a lot of crap to organize, stuff into my camping backpack, and put in a pile to send back home. Some needed items (like a blow dryer for the freezing mornings in Dec) got backed and others (black pumps) were sent back. I said goodbye to John then Rohin and I went back to Shin’s to meet for dinner. During a transfer on the T, I got the chance to talk to a Somos friend, Logan, who was also in the States for interview. It was a strange connection between my Guatemala and America lives. After we dropped off my stuff at Shins, we walked to PF Changs. My buddy DJ from Oakland met us for a drink and appetizers. Another smiling face, I was so grateful to see! I stuffed myself with soup, rice, and Mongolian Beef. Then to top it all off I had a mini chocolate mousse brownie dessert shot thing – muy rico! As we parted ways with the crew, Shin and I headed back to his place. I reorganized all my stuff and ended up using a Target bag as a second carry-on. I had one last late night chat on the phone with a friend and fell asleep.

Tuesday the taxi came at 4am to take me to my 6am flight. I slept the whole way to Atlanta. On my flight to Guate, I watched Mr. Poppers Penguins (not as good at the newest X-Men I saw leaving Guate), read a magazine, and did my Spanish grammar worksheets. Outside the airport in Guatemala City, I ran into an employee of the hostel I stayed at previously who helped me find a reliable taxi. I go to the bus with 40 minutes to spare before the 1230pm bus to Xela. I read another magazine and slept on the bus. Around 430pm, I arrived at my house in Xela. Everything looked just as I remembered it. The dream was over.