El Salvador on my mind

There is still a lot of El Salvador lingering around in my head. I almost always say a silent thank you to God every time I get in the hot shower. And, some part of me always seems just a tiny bit surprised when the water almost immediately gets hot…I secretly always expect it to give out.

Last night, as I was lying in bed, I imagined myself back in my bed in El Salvador. I’ve done it before but I guess didn’t think much of it the other times. Last night, it occurred to me how much I am trying to take in when I imagine it—the smells, the noises, the feeling of sleep in the near-open. Sleeping in a cinder block house with air-vents/holes to the immediate outside world is quite a different experience. Most Americans probably only do something similar when they are camping; Peace Corps volunteers do it for over two years.

I can never quite decide if I miss the noises of the Salvadoran nights. It’s kind of a nice “one-with-nature” feeling you get when you can hear every cat, chicken, cow and person of the night. On the other hand, there were very few nights where I didn’t have ear plugs in my ears at some point during the night.

Also really different now is waking up and going to the bathroom inside the house. For some strange reason, I always wonder if my cat understands that it is the same thing that I used to do in the middle of the night in El Salvador where rain or no rain I had to run hurriedly out to the shed that was the bathroom. I know, weirdo who thinks about her cat way too much. But, what I mean to say is that Cleo and I had certain night routines in El Salvador. Because of the lack of A/C I had to consume lots more water than I do here in the States and therefore visited the baño much more. One time, I failed to do so and woke up so severely dehydrated in the morning that I passed out for the first time in my life and had to go to the hospital. (This also may have been related to another illness but still.) Now, I rarely go the bathroom and my cat is miraculously able to sleep through an entire night until my alarm goes off which she now knows is a sure-fire sign that she can get her morning lovin’ in. (I RARELY ever used an alarm in El Salvador and Cleo always took it upon herself to wake me up whenever she saw fit for us to start our days.)

El Salvador, for so long I wondered how you would remain in my mind after I left you. Now I know it’s either to praise His good name for letting me escape you or remind me of the small curiosities that make you what you are.

The Ranch

Last week, Papo called me to ask if I would come over and watch the house and feed the animals. So, today after touching up my newly sanded-down/painted furniture and playing a rough soccer game I went down there.

I packed up my mom's boxes to ship to her and cleaned the house we emptied a bit. I fed the donkeys, the goats, and the cows the many, many bags of leftover bread my grandpa gets donated to him for free every week.Then, my grandparents got home. They were in a great mood when they pulled up. They like when I come visit but also they were in an especially good mood because they took a family to church for the first time. My Papo is a deacon in the Catholic Church and since my grandparents retired it is even more part of their life than it was before which even then was significant.

I was excited to show them the two rose bushes I brought them and they were excited to give me some gas money...in that way they are normal grandparents.

As we were sitting around talking in the dining room my grandfather started to talk to me. He was telling me how Mamo is so helpful in his ministry. He was saying how she forgets things now but he helps her and he believes this is all part of God's plan. My Mamo is suffering from what is obviously the early stages of Alzheimer's. Her mother had it and so it is not all the surprising that she does too. It's a hard reality to deal with. Most people can't.

My Papo had Mamo write a check for me and as she was writing my check she couldn't remember how to spell my last name, what month it was, or how to write the number my Papo told her to put on the check. But, its not just that her memory is going. She is a totally different person now too. My Mamo, much like my mother, has always been a very strong woman. She had a tough life and worked hard to make herself a comfortable one. She used to be opinionated, tough, and give you a hard time. People who came into her store when I was growing up would love to come in and pick fights with Ms.Perez. With the disease she has lost a lot of that. She is much more girl-like now. She does what my Papo tells her to do. She cries if she thinks about not being able to remember stuff. She cries when I get off the phone or leave her. My mother taught me a trick where whenever I feel her about to cry or whenever I know we are going to say good-bye I have to distract her in some way. Play down the bad memory or the good-byes. Talk about naming her new dog or make a joke as I am leaving. It's really hard. When we were talking in the kitchen. I decided I needed picture of my grandparents. So here it is. Even taking it was painful. It was just a moment that was not normal. The Mamo I grew up with probably wouldn't have been all girly and sat on my Papo's lap. My Papo would not have held her protectively and kissed her on the cheek. But this is how it happened when I snapped the picture on my iPhone. I started to cry as soon as I saw the image on my screen.