Ashley visits...

It’s amazing how much the internalization of problems can be solved through the help of friends and loved ones. I had been in my new site for 10 days when Ashley arrived. By the time she left, I would have spent more time in my site with her here than not. I felt that I had settled in fairly well before her arrival and that my new site was steadily progressing in a desirable direction, but having her here helped me resolve issues I didn’t even know existed; I became more human than I had yet been in this Central American republic.

She was here for two and a half weeks, and roughly speaking, we spent each ‘work’ week in my site and each weekend in a different part of the country, exploring secluded mountain-top coffee villages and rustically-developed beach towns. The time we spent in my site was an absolutely fantastic opportunity for her to truly experience the things that I often have trouble explaining over the phone. Some things simply do not translate through conversation: soccer games played in hurricane-force winds and horizontal rain (which then turns streets into nameable rivers); the true isolation of some communities (like my first one); the loneliness that can swallow you whole; the incredible companionship that can be found in a giggly 7 year old; the art of eating Salvadoran pupusas (thick, corn tortillas the size of tea saucers filled with cheese, beans, sausage); the utter frustration of packed buses; the pure bliss of empty, early-morning buses; the simplicity of a hammock, coffee, and a book; Pollo Campero (the equivalent of Chick-fil-A maybe?); realizing that some things are universal, like little kids begging their mom with the word ‘but’, only in Spanish (pero, pero, pero, pero); the comfort of a mosquito net in the tropics; the refreshing first splash of a bucket bath (maybe I‘m exaggerating this one).

But I think I received the better part of the deal (sorry darling). At the most basic level, having a visitor forced me to push the boundaries of what I thought possible. Food, movies, and organization of the house, for example. All have been forever changed just by her visiting. I know now that, if I so choose, I can live comfortably and enjoyably in this country. In a more substantial manner, though, she also reminded me that I still am a human, I still am Erik Howard, and I can fully be that individual in a country with different mannerisms, expectations, and norms. Quite honestly, I think my community was more interested in her arrival than mine (it’s ok, no hard feelings haha), but I certainly know that her presence opened many doors and began PLENTY of relationships throughout the community. I simply became a regular human in the eyes of my community. My story became real and visible. I absolutely miss her presence here, as does the community. As the little girls have been asking since she left, ‘…y la Ashley?’ (…and Ashley? Where did she go?)

Speaking of Site Changes...

Peace Corps has broken itself into two separate entities: the dream and the realization. I flew out of Washington with little knowledge of what I was really getting myself into, but honestly, how could I know? Uprooting from all that is comfortable for an elusive new beginning is rarely accompanied by a legible roadmap… And so it was with Peace Corps El Salvador. A latent expectation of realizing substantial, life-altering change has been replaced with more realistic hopes of changing unhelpful behavior, redirecting negative thoughts towards communal growth and change, and developing previously-hidden relationships into lifelong bonds. The dream that hazily floated through my head in South Carolina pointedly realized itself and, unfortunately, broke me.

Few have the opportunity to wipe the slate clean and begin anew, yet I have been given the chance to be the first volunteer in two different sites. The two communities are opposites in many ways, their locations certainly being one. La Palomilla, Nueva Granada, Usulután is flat, hot, dry, and dusty, and scorpions are plentiful enough to be deemed household pets. (Not once did I wash my clothes without a little guy crawling from within the safety of a pants leg). Tobias, Santa Rita, Chalatenango, on the other hand, is a rolling-hill paradise. The drive into my new community feels like a summer’s drive through Vermont. Lush, green hills rise from the water reservoir that reminds me of Lake Champlain to the looming storm clouds that blanket the higher peaks of El Pital.

However, when the formal discussions with the bosses began, I was told site-changes carry a seriously mixed bag of emotions. I heard the advice, but considering the emotional state I was in that ultimately led to a site change, it was nearly impossible to process and incorporate the thought until I closed the door of the truck and saw my host family crying goodbye in the mirror. As a family, they offered me the best of their small food supply, their kindest welcome, and a true concern for my well-being. Sadness and lose wholly overwhelmed me when I realized that, though I still live in El Salvador, I cannot communicate with the Guevaras, yet bliss, excitement, hope, and a sense of possibility pushed those feelings aside when I mentally placed myself in the moment, when I focused on my new site, when an entire community welcomed me with the same open arms that a single family had before. So it is with a mixed bag of emotions...

Certainly, I am new to the country (I will be the first to admit that I still have much to discover about myself and how that translates into being a balanced, successful volunteer), and I know that volunteers with more time under their belts may come to the conclusion that a site change is, well, ridiculous, but I think that some of the greatest things that we might gain from our two year service are friendships that cross cultural boundaries and a respect for another world that, at times, seems mind-bogglingly different. However, if this exchange does not exist, or cannot be cultivated, Peace Corps, in my mind, does not exist.

So, with regards to my own site change, I have acquired the most important resource one might have in El Salvador: respect, friendship, and trust within the community. My desire to flee, to seek a safe-haven, has simply vanished now that I live in a community that has quickly come to terms with its new neighbor. I was truly unaware how significant attitude and openness by a community could be in the success of a volunteer’s stay, but in acting on something that, at times, can be taboo for many in Peace Corps, I found exactly that for which I was searching. Though in a more realistic design, that which was broken at a very early stage has been repaired by those around me. Maybe a site change isn’t such a bad thing after all…

Here's to New Beginnings!

WOW.... it has been literally 2 months since I have last posted. Sorry bout that guys, but I have a computer (thanks mom and dad) so I should be able to update muuuch more frequently. So, really, a lot of stuff has happened.....


This country has solidly grown on me. I have had many great opportunities to get to know other volunteers, beautiful towns, awesome beaches, and special little nooks, all of which wash me with a new coat of optimism and excitement. I visited two different mountain towns centered around their colonial church and artisan markets (Ataco and Suchitoto), a rocky, fierce beach that is the envy of surfers the world over (El Tunco), and a flat, palm- and volcano-backed swath of white sand (El Cuco).

At the same time, the site that I am living in (La Palomilla) will no longer be my home after this coming weekend. After living 2 months with the community, absorbing all that I could from my surroundings, and then returning to our second round of training (which lasted, essentially, through the first half of June), I had a huge realization that I really was not enjoying my experience as I should. I was not able to commit myself to volunteering as I had intended. A lot of factors affected my decision, but I essentially realized that living in La Palomilla was not healthy, mentally or physically, for a two year post. Everytime I got on bus 357 in El Triunfo destined for La Palomilla, a small part of my brain starting spiraling into a pit. By the time I had actually reached La Palomilla, my mental state had reached rock bottom. So, today (this has been a long process - a little more than three weeks) I visited my new community in the department of Chalatenango. Santa Rita is the pueblo, so the municipio (county in english) is also called Santa Rita. I will live ten minutes, walking, outside of the pueblo in a canton called Tobias (accent on the I). Chalatenango is generally speaking a much more mountainous, northern department of El Salvador, so it's a bit cooler. The town is also much more densely constructed, so reaching everyone will be much easier (La Palomilla took 35 minutes to walk from one side to the other).


Here's to new beginnings!