This week was not an especially thrilling or fulfilling one, but in some ways it has been quite deep emotionally. This morning, the Belgians, Rafael and Geraldine, caught the bus for Riobamba. As we were walking up to the highway, they stopped to say goodbye to Pablo, who immediately offered to give them a ride in his funny little truck, better known as the Boogie Woogie (probably spelled "Bugui Wugui" in Tolte). The kindness of Toltenos to us gringos is never-ending.
I confess that I found this heart-wrenching, not strictly because I will miss them, which I will. It was a real pleasure to spend time with them, partly because they're fun and energetic, and partly because they could give me some perspective on what I'm doing here. But their going reminds me that I only have another two months here, and then I will also have to leave this place where I am so at home. Where else will people call me "Naichu Michu" (that's "nice to meet you," if you didn't guess it during my previous blog entry)? Where else will I feel so well met? People here have accepted me as an odd part of the community. I'm almost not sure I have the right to leave them behind. Although the children have come a long way, they still don't speak English as well as I had hoped they would by this point. Have I delivered my end of this bargain?
So as I contemplate my job interview in the Amazon next week, I wonder if I will come back to Tolte afterwards and make a more serious effort to stay here instead. It doesn't seem right to go, but there are some aspects of my life here that are emotionally challenging. There is no one here in the same social category that I am (divorced man over 50), which makes it difficult for people to figure me out. I seem to be classed with the other single guys of Tolte, who are generally under 22 years old. So I get to play the guitar a lot, and stay out late sometimes, but I think my behavior does seem more than a bit strange to the grown-ups.
I'll return to this theme after reporting some interesting events of the week. On Tuesday, i got caught up in a community soccer game that included the school teachers, Rafael and Geraldine, and a large number of women and children. This turned out to be more my level than the distressing game I played back during the Fiesta de Tolte. By sticking to defense, I was able to compensate for my lack of skill by getting in everyone else's way. People declared me "better than one would expect," and I had fun for the first time in years playing a game that included a ball.
Wednesday I went to work to help a family where the father is recovering from a hernia operation. It seems this will take as much as a year. The man involved is the same one who, a few weeks back, carried about 50 pounds of corns from the hacienda to the center of Tolte, a physical feat I commented upon at the time. So losing his strength is a big blow for this relatively poor family. I can't say I was much compensation, but I did 6 hours of work on what was probably the steepest piece of land I have ever tried to stand on--and it was a cornfield. While Dona Sharita and Dona Lucia, both grandmothers, cut down the high weeds with machetes, I struggled to scrape out little rings around each corn or bean plants using a pick. Because the land was so steep, my back didn't hurt too much, but my feet and legs sure did. It's been a long time since I was that tired.
Thursday night was the beginning of the farewell to Rafael and Geraldine. This involved kooky games and more trago than I would like to admit, but at least I made it to school the next day. The teachers did not--although this is not because I am hardier than they, but less. I gave up about 1 in the morning, but they were still partying at 7 o'clock when school started. Geraldine commented that this was not like any professional behavior that she had ever encountered, and I'm inclined to agree. We wouldn't last long setting this kind of example in the United States or Belgium.
Friday was a healthier kind of send-off. Mario got the folk-dance kids together for their first real performance, and it was a great success. From there, he continued to play dance music until about 11 PM. We all had a great time dancing the night away, and I think Rafael and Geraldine were very happy with it all. I got to dance with the Toltenita of my dreams, but it's pretty clear that I'm not the gringo for her. I suppose I can live with that knowledge.
And then, this morning, the Belgians left. They're going to travel around Ecuador for a month, maybe spending some time at Yachana, where I have my interview, and then go back to Belgium. People here were really sorry to see them go--they brought a real rush of youthful energy to the place, and got a lot done in a short time. I'll have to follow up on at least one project, which seems to be mired in paperwork in the Colegio Tecnico, but I think it can be worked out. Meanwhile, I wonder how I will cope with my own departure, and whether or how I will find my way back. Even then, I will be on the outside again, not almost on the inside as I am now. It's a painful thought.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
54
Thursday was my birthday, and now I’m 54. I remember George Carlin talking about the AM radio dial, and how 54, down at the bottom of the dial, always with a big 5 and a little 4, represented some kind of netherworld where decent radio signals do not go. And that’s where I have finally arrived. Of course, as I move into the decent part of the AM radio dial, I’ll become even more decrepit, but I suppose I’ll have to live with that trade.
The day didn’t get off to a great start. A parent complained to one of the teachers about the way I manage the computer room, instead of complaining directly to me, which is always annoying. I did catch up with her later in the day, and found, as I suspected,, that the problem was not so much one of computer room policy as difficulty managing her sons, who are a handful. We agreed that they wouldn’t have permission to go to the computer room until 6, unless I knew that they had permission to be there earlier, and that problem went away.
I won’t even dignify the other problem by describing it, but I will note that it is fortunate that bitter, selfish people are a small percentage of the world’s population—even if they seem to be in charge much of the time. What they fail to realize is that the rest of us can live perfectly well without them.
But good news also arrived. Carolina, president of AVANTI, my employer, has been talking to me about the possibility of working for the YACHANA foundation in the Amazon. I think this would be teaching work, but perhaps more focused on agricultural topics. Needless to say, working in that environment is the sort of adventure I thought I would need years of low level toil to achieve. I have an interview in the Amazon on April 8th, and will need all day the 7th to get there (and all day the 9th to get back). The last half hour of the trip will be by canoe. I’ll just let that sink in.
There was a great birthday moment during my class with the sixth graders. I mentioned that it was my birthday, and they asked how old I am. I told them that I was 54. One of the kids looked at me and asked, “So why are you such a muchacho?” I said that it was probably just because I’m so silly.
After an afternoon in the computer room, Freddy and Florencio invited me for some celebratory beer at Francisco’s store. I was a bit hesitant, because I had heard that something was brewing in my house (no, not beer, some sort of fiesta). But, looking back on things, I think they were part of the plan. So we had a few beers, and bought some more just in case, and headed for the house. You’d think, knowing as I did that something was up, that I couldn’t really be surprised. But I really was. It wasn’t so much that there was a party, but that there were about 50 people at it. They were mostly people that Narcisa must have rounded up from among the folks who work at the train station, the cafeteria people and the folk dancers. But there was also a big bunch of my school kids, for the 6-60 effect.
And what a party it was—I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday with such enthusiasm. I certainly can’t remember the last time that I spent several hours dancing, but I suspect I’d have to look back to the Peace Corps years. And it took all night, because, as the birthday person, I had to dance with every woman present (not that this was a burdensome requirement). The kids who have been taking folk dance lessons with Mario, who teaches as part of his AVANTI university scholarship, also did their thing to great effect. Most of the adults there had not seen the folk dance class, and they were really impressed, if only by how cute the kids are, and how serious they get when they’re dancing.
I also have to mention the great contribution of the Belgians, Rafael and Geraldine, to the festivities. First of all, when I got to the kitchen in the morning, they had left a loaf of bread which was a highly accurate sculpture of my face. I’ll probably laugh every time I remember this for the rest of my life. They were also outstanding party people, dancing to great and cheerful comic effect. I think that they will be leaving at the end of this week, and I’ll miss them. They’re really a lot of fun. I regret any negative thoughts I ever had about their coming, because they’ve made a wonderful impression on Tolte, and accomplished a lot in a short time.
The party continued in increasingly haphazard fashion until 2 or 3 in the morning, until I truly felt that my faraway problem really can't touch me here. It really was wonderful in every way, although getting up at 6:30 to work on Friday was not easy. And, in a fit of I’m not sure what, but probably something to do with a desire not to look as old as I now am, I went ahead and shaved off my moustache, which Allie, at least, regards as great news. If all goes well, I’ll upload the first clean shaven picture of myself since my Bar Mitzvah. Forty-one years of hirsute splendor. I suppose it will return one day, if I ever come to terms with how old I really am.
The day didn’t get off to a great start. A parent complained to one of the teachers about the way I manage the computer room, instead of complaining directly to me, which is always annoying. I did catch up with her later in the day, and found, as I suspected,, that the problem was not so much one of computer room policy as difficulty managing her sons, who are a handful. We agreed that they wouldn’t have permission to go to the computer room until 6, unless I knew that they had permission to be there earlier, and that problem went away.
I won’t even dignify the other problem by describing it, but I will note that it is fortunate that bitter, selfish people are a small percentage of the world’s population—even if they seem to be in charge much of the time. What they fail to realize is that the rest of us can live perfectly well without them.
But good news also arrived. Carolina, president of AVANTI, my employer, has been talking to me about the possibility of working for the YACHANA foundation in the Amazon. I think this would be teaching work, but perhaps more focused on agricultural topics. Needless to say, working in that environment is the sort of adventure I thought I would need years of low level toil to achieve. I have an interview in the Amazon on April 8th, and will need all day the 7th to get there (and all day the 9th to get back). The last half hour of the trip will be by canoe. I’ll just let that sink in.
There was a great birthday moment during my class with the sixth graders. I mentioned that it was my birthday, and they asked how old I am. I told them that I was 54. One of the kids looked at me and asked, “So why are you such a muchacho?” I said that it was probably just because I’m so silly.
After an afternoon in the computer room, Freddy and Florencio invited me for some celebratory beer at Francisco’s store. I was a bit hesitant, because I had heard that something was brewing in my house (no, not beer, some sort of fiesta). But, looking back on things, I think they were part of the plan. So we had a few beers, and bought some more just in case, and headed for the house. You’d think, knowing as I did that something was up, that I couldn’t really be surprised. But I really was. It wasn’t so much that there was a party, but that there were about 50 people at it. They were mostly people that Narcisa must have rounded up from among the folks who work at the train station, the cafeteria people and the folk dancers. But there was also a big bunch of my school kids, for the 6-60 effect.
And what a party it was—I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday with such enthusiasm. I certainly can’t remember the last time that I spent several hours dancing, but I suspect I’d have to look back to the Peace Corps years. And it took all night, because, as the birthday person, I had to dance with every woman present (not that this was a burdensome requirement). The kids who have been taking folk dance lessons with Mario, who teaches as part of his AVANTI university scholarship, also did their thing to great effect. Most of the adults there had not seen the folk dance class, and they were really impressed, if only by how cute the kids are, and how serious they get when they’re dancing.
I also have to mention the great contribution of the Belgians, Rafael and Geraldine, to the festivities. First of all, when I got to the kitchen in the morning, they had left a loaf of bread which was a highly accurate sculpture of my face. I’ll probably laugh every time I remember this for the rest of my life. They were also outstanding party people, dancing to great and cheerful comic effect. I think that they will be leaving at the end of this week, and I’ll miss them. They’re really a lot of fun. I regret any negative thoughts I ever had about their coming, because they’ve made a wonderful impression on Tolte, and accomplished a lot in a short time.
The party continued in increasingly haphazard fashion until 2 or 3 in the morning, until I truly felt that my faraway problem really can't touch me here. It really was wonderful in every way, although getting up at 6:30 to work on Friday was not easy. And, in a fit of I’m not sure what, but probably something to do with a desire not to look as old as I now am, I went ahead and shaved off my moustache, which Allie, at least, regards as great news. If all goes well, I’ll upload the first clean shaven picture of myself since my Bar Mitzvah. Forty-one years of hirsute splendor. I suppose it will return one day, if I ever come to terms with how old I really am.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Making It
By any measure, this must have been my most successful week in Tolte. I think the key day was Thursday, (March 8), when I got to lead off MCCH’s granja integral workshop with a talk about soil erosion and how to reduce it. I talked about the different components of soil, and how easily they could wash away, especially the living components of microorganisms and organic matter. I gave examples of different land slopes that I had seen on my farm visits, and how they could be managed so as to reduce erosion. And I demonstrated the famous 1 percent land level that I learned to build in the Peace Corps, and asked to be allowed to use it with the attendees. And since they were there, I actually made appointments to see the ones I hadn’t seen.
But this talk was only the turning point of a week that saw five adults show up to study English on Wednesday, and four more on Thursday, giving me two fourteen hour workdays in a row. And on Friday, when there was no school, I did two farm visits in the early part of the morning,, attended the community budget meeting, and then, after lunch, I finally helped Asencio dig an irrigation channel on a one-percent slope, using the famous Peace Corps level. He was so enthused that he said he was going to make his own one percent level. It is also helpful that Asencio is a well-liked leading citizen—what he does is likely to catch on. I feel like it’s an historic moment, or at least a big moment in my history here.
I also took Rafael, one half of the young Belgian couple sent here as volunteers, with me on the morning farm visits. He is an agroforestry enthusiast, and he thinks that some trees, if they are of the right type, could fit into Asencio’s plot of land (the one that I leveled later that day). The only problem is that neither of us know much about the trees of Ecuador, and we were stumped (pun, hahaha) trying to come up with the right kind of tree. As usual, the universe coughed up an incredible stroke of good fortune, when Dr. Joe Peters, former Peace Corps Ecuador forestry volunteer, decided on that very day to send me an e-mail for the heck of it. Needless to say, I immediately asked him for an appropriate agroforestry species. He hasn’t responded yet, but I still think his e-mail was exquisitely timed, as are so many things that happen here.
The other half of the Belgian couple is Geraldine. Since I was told that she was a teacher, I took her to school on Tuesday. Geraldine, like me, is a high school teacher, and she found the grade 1-2-3 class a bit overwhelming (read: horrifying). I really hope that she’ll work with the kids one or two at a time on reading. I think that might be best. Her Spanish is actually very good, but 20 kids calling for her attention at once might have been a bit too much. She and Rafael spent most of the rest of the week putting down pavers in the streets of Tolte, which is the big community project right now.
The farming thrills did not end on Friday, though. I made a bunch more appointments for Saturday, and again experienced great satisfaction. Mesias has a little piece of land behind his house/store where he wants to plant the plants that MCCH brought on Thursday. He had already taken a shot at laying out contours by eye, but I did get to use the land level with him on another small area. He has a larger piece of land lower down the mountain, and I want to get out there, too, but I was glad to have a quick start on Saturday.
I had a much longer visit with Joaquin and his son Angel (better known as “Grande,” since he is easily the biggest person in Tolte). They were plowing a wheat field with a yoke of bulls, and I took the opportunity to lay out some contour lines for them to follow. Contour plowing is an essential soil conservation practice, but not one that I’ve ever gotten to work on before. In Costa Rica, it was always terraces. Anyway, they plowed until lunch, and I took over Joaquin’s part of the job after lunch. This consisted of walking in front of the bulls holding a long stick while Angel managed the plough, a job that he says makes the bicep in the arm that guides the plough really tired. I can well imagine. Anyway, it was sort of my job to use the stick to whack the bulls on the snout to turn them around at the end of the furrow, or get them straightened out if they went off track. I wasn’t at all good at this, but Angel was surprisingly patient and I did get better over time. And I only took one head butt. The word for this in Spanish is “embestiar,” a term I find particularly satisfying due to its inclusion of “bestia,” “beast.” Angel became concerned near the end of the job that the bull was determined to really get me, and he had his very pregnant wife Gladys come down to finish the job. The bull wouldn’t dare embestiar her, believe me. If I’m feeling ambitious, I took photos of some of this contour plowing, and you’ll also get a glimpse of Joaquin, who has been mentioned in quite a few of these entries.
It was now much later than I expected, about 4 in the afternoon, but I went after one more visit with Cristian, one of the AVANTI becarios who has not had enough money beyond the AVANTI grant to continue his studies, his wife, Laura, who actually was the one who invited me to visit, and their little boy, Ariel, who looks so much like Laura that seeing them together makes me laugh out loud. I learned only this week that Cristian is only 21 and Laura a mere 19, which produced more culture shock than it should have. In any case, they took me down to pieces of land owned by Laura’s grandmother and Cristian’s father. Cristian’s father’s land was a very micely laid out orchard, with ample spacing between trees and the healthiest looking trees and fruit that I have seen here, which I think shows the importance of adequate spacing, an idea I have been trying to deliver for a while.
While the orchard was quite nice, the piece of land belonging to Laura’s grandmother was absolutely fascinating. The land is incredibly steep—we seemed to be descending into another world. But the otherworldy effect was compounded by the incredible mix of fruit trees and ground crops that covered the hillside. It was like being in a food jungle, or “food forest,” as the permaculturists say. It appears that Laura’s uncle and grandmother cooked up this way of working more or less by chance, starting with small fruit trees and planting other crops to cover the soil and give some kind of yield in the meantime. The result is that this farm produces citrus, avocadoes, bananas (very unusual here), spinach, parsley, chamomile, and dozens of other medicinal and leafy ground plants. I wish everyone in Tolte could have a farm like this. I know that Rafael will be thrilled when he sees it, and spend the rest of his time here trying to figure out why no one else works this way.
This week will see me out on more farms, doing the best I can to save Tolte’s soil, as I also teach English to as many people as possible. This is why I insisted that AVANTI give me nine months—it has taken me six just to get to this point, and I think I could be really effective for at least another six. But I’ll settle for the remaining three. On the other hand, people are starting to ask me to look for a way to stay here, and I’m considering it. Life here is, after all, really good. And now I’m off to jam Ecuadorean music with Don Luis. Music, soil, teaching—it’s true, there isn’t much else to want, except a predictable salary based on recognizable work. And maybe that’s attainable…
Ah, I didn’t post this right away, and now more things that are closely related have happened, so I’ll just toss them in. Rafael and Geraldine went to the Colegio Tecnico with Carlos on Monday, and met with the Forestry teacher there. He has a nice little tree nursery, and he immediately offered to show up with a bunch of students and plant the windbreak, with a few agroforestry trees for shade in the middle of the field. He wanted to come today (Friday, March 16), but the directora of the colegio put the kibosh on that. No, the students were too busy this week, and next week is exams, so we’re inviting them for the week of the 26th. I’ve also asked them for enough trees for a piece of land where I proposed a windbreak a couple of weeks ago. We also had to write a letter officially requesting the trees in the name of AVANTI. Elvia is now correcting our crudely worded letter into the excruciating official language of such letters, and we hope to get it to the school by means of one of the students on Monday. I have to admit, I’m enjoying having Rafael and Geraldine around. First of all, they strike people as even more “gringo” than I do, probably only because they’re newer. They’re also fun to be around, and know how to get things done. I really shouldn’t have questioned their arrival.
Also, two things make me notice the passage of time. The first is that my computer has informed me that Daylight Savings Time has returned to the United States. I suppose that means that I’ve been here a while, since I was already here when Daylight Savings time ended in the fall. Also, the weather seems to be changing, perhaps prematurely. We know longer have daily fog and rain, although the rainy season is not due to end until the beginning of May. I hope that we’re not looking at a drought, or all the trees in the windbreak will be reduced to withered sticks.
But this talk was only the turning point of a week that saw five adults show up to study English on Wednesday, and four more on Thursday, giving me two fourteen hour workdays in a row. And on Friday, when there was no school, I did two farm visits in the early part of the morning,, attended the community budget meeting, and then, after lunch, I finally helped Asencio dig an irrigation channel on a one-percent slope, using the famous Peace Corps level. He was so enthused that he said he was going to make his own one percent level. It is also helpful that Asencio is a well-liked leading citizen—what he does is likely to catch on. I feel like it’s an historic moment, or at least a big moment in my history here.
I also took Rafael, one half of the young Belgian couple sent here as volunteers, with me on the morning farm visits. He is an agroforestry enthusiast, and he thinks that some trees, if they are of the right type, could fit into Asencio’s plot of land (the one that I leveled later that day). The only problem is that neither of us know much about the trees of Ecuador, and we were stumped (pun, hahaha) trying to come up with the right kind of tree. As usual, the universe coughed up an incredible stroke of good fortune, when Dr. Joe Peters, former Peace Corps Ecuador forestry volunteer, decided on that very day to send me an e-mail for the heck of it. Needless to say, I immediately asked him for an appropriate agroforestry species. He hasn’t responded yet, but I still think his e-mail was exquisitely timed, as are so many things that happen here.
The other half of the Belgian couple is Geraldine. Since I was told that she was a teacher, I took her to school on Tuesday. Geraldine, like me, is a high school teacher, and she found the grade 1-2-3 class a bit overwhelming (read: horrifying). I really hope that she’ll work with the kids one or two at a time on reading. I think that might be best. Her Spanish is actually very good, but 20 kids calling for her attention at once might have been a bit too much. She and Rafael spent most of the rest of the week putting down pavers in the streets of Tolte, which is the big community project right now.
The farming thrills did not end on Friday, though. I made a bunch more appointments for Saturday, and again experienced great satisfaction. Mesias has a little piece of land behind his house/store where he wants to plant the plants that MCCH brought on Thursday. He had already taken a shot at laying out contours by eye, but I did get to use the land level with him on another small area. He has a larger piece of land lower down the mountain, and I want to get out there, too, but I was glad to have a quick start on Saturday.
I had a much longer visit with Joaquin and his son Angel (better known as “Grande,” since he is easily the biggest person in Tolte). They were plowing a wheat field with a yoke of bulls, and I took the opportunity to lay out some contour lines for them to follow. Contour plowing is an essential soil conservation practice, but not one that I’ve ever gotten to work on before. In Costa Rica, it was always terraces. Anyway, they plowed until lunch, and I took over Joaquin’s part of the job after lunch. This consisted of walking in front of the bulls holding a long stick while Angel managed the plough, a job that he says makes the bicep in the arm that guides the plough really tired. I can well imagine. Anyway, it was sort of my job to use the stick to whack the bulls on the snout to turn them around at the end of the furrow, or get them straightened out if they went off track. I wasn’t at all good at this, but Angel was surprisingly patient and I did get better over time. And I only took one head butt. The word for this in Spanish is “embestiar,” a term I find particularly satisfying due to its inclusion of “bestia,” “beast.” Angel became concerned near the end of the job that the bull was determined to really get me, and he had his very pregnant wife Gladys come down to finish the job. The bull wouldn’t dare embestiar her, believe me. If I’m feeling ambitious, I took photos of some of this contour plowing, and you’ll also get a glimpse of Joaquin, who has been mentioned in quite a few of these entries.
Angel with the contour level
Joaquin and Angel and the Tolte Bulls
It was now much later than I expected, about 4 in the afternoon, but I went after one more visit with Cristian, one of the AVANTI becarios who has not had enough money beyond the AVANTI grant to continue his studies, his wife, Laura, who actually was the one who invited me to visit, and their little boy, Ariel, who looks so much like Laura that seeing them together makes me laugh out loud. I learned only this week that Cristian is only 21 and Laura a mere 19, which produced more culture shock than it should have. In any case, they took me down to pieces of land owned by Laura’s grandmother and Cristian’s father. Cristian’s father’s land was a very micely laid out orchard, with ample spacing between trees and the healthiest looking trees and fruit that I have seen here, which I think shows the importance of adequate spacing, an idea I have been trying to deliver for a while.
While the orchard was quite nice, the piece of land belonging to Laura’s grandmother was absolutely fascinating. The land is incredibly steep—we seemed to be descending into another world. But the otherworldy effect was compounded by the incredible mix of fruit trees and ground crops that covered the hillside. It was like being in a food jungle, or “food forest,” as the permaculturists say. It appears that Laura’s uncle and grandmother cooked up this way of working more or less by chance, starting with small fruit trees and planting other crops to cover the soil and give some kind of yield in the meantime. The result is that this farm produces citrus, avocadoes, bananas (very unusual here), spinach, parsley, chamomile, and dozens of other medicinal and leafy ground plants. I wish everyone in Tolte could have a farm like this. I know that Rafael will be thrilled when he sees it, and spend the rest of his time here trying to figure out why no one else works this way.
This week will see me out on more farms, doing the best I can to save Tolte’s soil, as I also teach English to as many people as possible. This is why I insisted that AVANTI give me nine months—it has taken me six just to get to this point, and I think I could be really effective for at least another six. But I’ll settle for the remaining three. On the other hand, people are starting to ask me to look for a way to stay here, and I’m considering it. Life here is, after all, really good. And now I’m off to jam Ecuadorean music with Don Luis. Music, soil, teaching—it’s true, there isn’t much else to want, except a predictable salary based on recognizable work. And maybe that’s attainable…
Ah, I didn’t post this right away, and now more things that are closely related have happened, so I’ll just toss them in. Rafael and Geraldine went to the Colegio Tecnico with Carlos on Monday, and met with the Forestry teacher there. He has a nice little tree nursery, and he immediately offered to show up with a bunch of students and plant the windbreak, with a few agroforestry trees for shade in the middle of the field. He wanted to come today (Friday, March 16), but the directora of the colegio put the kibosh on that. No, the students were too busy this week, and next week is exams, so we’re inviting them for the week of the 26th. I’ve also asked them for enough trees for a piece of land where I proposed a windbreak a couple of weeks ago. We also had to write a letter officially requesting the trees in the name of AVANTI. Elvia is now correcting our crudely worded letter into the excruciating official language of such letters, and we hope to get it to the school by means of one of the students on Monday. I have to admit, I’m enjoying having Rafael and Geraldine around. First of all, they strike people as even more “gringo” than I do, probably only because they’re newer. They’re also fun to be around, and know how to get things done. I really shouldn’t have questioned their arrival.
Also, two things make me notice the passage of time. The first is that my computer has informed me that Daylight Savings Time has returned to the United States. I suppose that means that I’ve been here a while, since I was already here when Daylight Savings time ended in the fall. Also, the weather seems to be changing, perhaps prematurely. We know longer have daily fog and rain, although the rainy season is not due to end until the beginning of May. I hope that we’re not looking at a drought, or all the trees in the windbreak will be reduced to withered sticks.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
The Belgians are coming
There has been little worth reporting since Carnaval. Things have mostly been a steady routine as I enter the last trimester of my time in Tolte. Three months from today, I'll be on a plane to New York. heaven knows what happens after that. But the time here passes ever more quickly, and I'm definitely feeling a need to wrap up the school year in style.
But on Wednesday, Tolte experienced a death in the family. Although I feel that I know almost everyone here by now, I'm not at all sure that I knew the deceased. Certainly, I don't recognize his name; people called him "Cabo." But there are many people here that I still don't know by name, or by the name that people actually use. On the other hand, he was the brother of at least three people whom I know pretty well, and uncle to a whole lot more, so he certainly had his place in the sun. He was only 64, and seems to have died from falling in such a way that he fractured his skull. People wree talking about this accident quite a bit, but I can't say I captured all the details.
I was invited to join the grave digging crew on Friday afternoon, though I confess that I didn't do any of the digging. There were more capable diggers available, for one thing, including Reccion and Damasio, one of the Segundos, and an old fellow I see every day but still don't know his name. Others were present and not digging either, but all of us were helped along by modest doses of trago. As the garve was being dug, we all commented, as farmers will, on the richness of the soil. Damasio felt that there were decomposed remains in what we were digging, that the whole cemetery has been filled and refilled several times over, though there aren't that many grave markers. I discussed the idea that, in the end, we are neither more nor less than good fertilizer: humbling, yes, but not worthless. There was also a brief discussion of the concept of gay marriage, which is overwhelmingly alien to Tolte. The participants in this discussion weren't quite sure that gay people actually exist, though I have my suspicions that gay people are hidden right in the midst of Tolte. All I can say is, they're all going to need more time.
While I was up at the gravesite, I got one of my extremely rare calls from Carolina. After asking how things are going, she announced that a married couple from Belgium is coming to Tolte as volunteers, and would I please find things for them to do? The woman is a teacher, and the man is an agronomist. Also, could I find out if they can live in the house I live in, in spite of the fact that we're crazily in arrears on the rent.
I have to say I received this news with mixed feelings. I often do feel alone, though less so lately. Introducing two more foreigners into this situation, especially two whose skills overlap (and my fears say, "overshadow") my own makes me uncomfortable at the personal level. On the other hand, the idea is to deliver as much support and development to Tolte as possible. So if I really am devoted to Tolte's well-being, I have to do everything in my power to make sure these people are busy all the time. In fact, I think the woman will be a welcome addition to the K-1-2-3 class, where I do not work, or the day care center, which has little or nothing resembling an educational program. She can also teach reading, and I could open up both the library and the computer room every day.
The agronomist's situation is more complicated. There is no structured work for him, but I know plenty of people whose fruit trees need either pruning or disease control or both. The truth is that if he works on plants, and encourages people to have me look at their soils, we can probably get more done than I can alone. But I am still getting invitations to look at people's land and offer up farm plans, so I don't think he'll push me out of a job, at least not entirely.
I suppose there are more positives than negatives in this, much as I hate to share my adventure. I will meet Belgians for the first time in my life, and they must be people of good will, because, unlike me, they are here at their own expense. I do believe that the three of us can do more than I can alone. And I can put, "Supervised international volunteers" as a resume line under my Tolte experience.
But on Wednesday, Tolte experienced a death in the family. Although I feel that I know almost everyone here by now, I'm not at all sure that I knew the deceased. Certainly, I don't recognize his name; people called him "Cabo." But there are many people here that I still don't know by name, or by the name that people actually use. On the other hand, he was the brother of at least three people whom I know pretty well, and uncle to a whole lot more, so he certainly had his place in the sun. He was only 64, and seems to have died from falling in such a way that he fractured his skull. People wree talking about this accident quite a bit, but I can't say I captured all the details.
I was invited to join the grave digging crew on Friday afternoon, though I confess that I didn't do any of the digging. There were more capable diggers available, for one thing, including Reccion and Damasio, one of the Segundos, and an old fellow I see every day but still don't know his name. Others were present and not digging either, but all of us were helped along by modest doses of trago. As the garve was being dug, we all commented, as farmers will, on the richness of the soil. Damasio felt that there were decomposed remains in what we were digging, that the whole cemetery has been filled and refilled several times over, though there aren't that many grave markers. I discussed the idea that, in the end, we are neither more nor less than good fertilizer: humbling, yes, but not worthless. There was also a brief discussion of the concept of gay marriage, which is overwhelmingly alien to Tolte. The participants in this discussion weren't quite sure that gay people actually exist, though I have my suspicions that gay people are hidden right in the midst of Tolte. All I can say is, they're all going to need more time.
While I was up at the gravesite, I got one of my extremely rare calls from Carolina. After asking how things are going, she announced that a married couple from Belgium is coming to Tolte as volunteers, and would I please find things for them to do? The woman is a teacher, and the man is an agronomist. Also, could I find out if they can live in the house I live in, in spite of the fact that we're crazily in arrears on the rent.
I have to say I received this news with mixed feelings. I often do feel alone, though less so lately. Introducing two more foreigners into this situation, especially two whose skills overlap (and my fears say, "overshadow") my own makes me uncomfortable at the personal level. On the other hand, the idea is to deliver as much support and development to Tolte as possible. So if I really am devoted to Tolte's well-being, I have to do everything in my power to make sure these people are busy all the time. In fact, I think the woman will be a welcome addition to the K-1-2-3 class, where I do not work, or the day care center, which has little or nothing resembling an educational program. She can also teach reading, and I could open up both the library and the computer room every day.
The agronomist's situation is more complicated. There is no structured work for him, but I know plenty of people whose fruit trees need either pruning or disease control or both. The truth is that if he works on plants, and encourages people to have me look at their soils, we can probably get more done than I can alone. But I am still getting invitations to look at people's land and offer up farm plans, so I don't think he'll push me out of a job, at least not entirely.
I suppose there are more positives than negatives in this, much as I hate to share my adventure. I will meet Belgians for the first time in my life, and they must be people of good will, because, unlike me, they are here at their own expense. I do believe that the three of us can do more than I can alone. And I can put, "Supervised international volunteers" as a resume line under my Tolte experience.
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