Elian the budding politician
Right now, directly under this fan, it's almost bearable. Several times today I've looked about myself, startled by a blast of heat and looking for the open stove or blast furnace from whence it must have come. But, inevitably, there was none; it's just the El Salvadorean lowlands in December: hot as hell.
It's common knowledge that the Peace Corps, which places Americans in two-year posts around the world is designed to benefit the volunteers as it is the nominal recipients of their aid. I suppose each volunteers journey is unique, but spending time with Elian here it's struck by how powerful the experience of just being here is -- getting to know the ordinary folk of the third world in a way otherwise impossible.
Elian's "site" is Ciudad Dolores, a small town smack in the center of this small country. Her assignment is to engage in "Municipal Development", which as far as I can tell means she sits in the mayors office and finds ways to make herself useful. She talks of being involved in many initiatives in the town and its surrounding farming regions, but the Maritz in me can't help but note that her most visible occupation appears to be pounding the pavement. Together we've traversed the town several times, slowly exchanging warm salutations with the parents sat in the streets and receiving excited smiles and embraces from the packs of children in perpetual orbit. She goes by "Ellie" here, and the name is constantly on the lips of young and old alike. We've been a meal at every house we've stopped into, two when we've stayed long enough.
Being her mother's daughter she gets on well with the folk here, has no end friends, and has already become an integrated enough part of the social fabric here to have been the victim of the rumour mill -- it's been said that she has a second boyfriend in a nearby town, a young man recently returned from the US with a fine pickup. She commiserates with the women in the town about the men who go abroad and don't send back enough money, and she complains with the men about the crooked politicians and the lack of decent jobs. It's just life, and she's part of it.
I've spent some time in my life trying to sell to these people, though the people in question were in Malaysia and I was doing so from the 30th floor of a gleaming tower in Kuala Lumpor, crunching numbers to find the optimal offer and message to try to get them to spend more money on their mobile phones. Yesterday, as we pulled into a gas station, Elian saw a sign announcing "Doble Saldo", an offer to double any deposit ("saldo") she made into her mobile phone account -- exactly the kind of thing I was tasked with coming up with. She hurriedly asked to borrow five bucks, even though she had just borrowed five bucks to put on her phone the day before. Having only her salary of $300 a month to work with, every cent of "saldo" counts.
Elian is supposed to be living the monastic life of a Peace Corps volunteer. As far as I'm concerned, despite her access to cell phone, Internet, and DVDs, she still can claim to have survived the wild due to her surviving here without air conditioning for the better part of a year already. I'm reading a book on Latin America right now which presents an erudite set of explanations as to why the region has steadfastly refused to develop itself despite having every advantage. Sat here sweltering, unable to move, the answer seems painfully obvious.
It's common knowledge that the Peace Corps, which places Americans in two-year posts around the world is designed to benefit the volunteers as it is the nominal recipients of their aid. I suppose each volunteers journey is unique, but spending time with Elian here it's struck by how powerful the experience of just being here is -- getting to know the ordinary folk of the third world in a way otherwise impossible.
Elian's "site" is Ciudad Dolores, a small town smack in the center of this small country. Her assignment is to engage in "Municipal Development", which as far as I can tell means she sits in the mayors office and finds ways to make herself useful. She talks of being involved in many initiatives in the town and its surrounding farming regions, but the Maritz in me can't help but note that her most visible occupation appears to be pounding the pavement. Together we've traversed the town several times, slowly exchanging warm salutations with the parents sat in the streets and receiving excited smiles and embraces from the packs of children in perpetual orbit. She goes by "Ellie" here, and the name is constantly on the lips of young and old alike. We've been a meal at every house we've stopped into, two when we've stayed long enough.
Being her mother's daughter she gets on well with the folk here, has no end friends, and has already become an integrated enough part of the social fabric here to have been the victim of the rumour mill -- it's been said that she has a second boyfriend in a nearby town, a young man recently returned from the US with a fine pickup. She commiserates with the women in the town about the men who go abroad and don't send back enough money, and she complains with the men about the crooked politicians and the lack of decent jobs. It's just life, and she's part of it.
I've spent some time in my life trying to sell to these people, though the people in question were in Malaysia and I was doing so from the 30th floor of a gleaming tower in Kuala Lumpor, crunching numbers to find the optimal offer and message to try to get them to spend more money on their mobile phones. Yesterday, as we pulled into a gas station, Elian saw a sign announcing "Doble Saldo", an offer to double any deposit ("saldo") she made into her mobile phone account -- exactly the kind of thing I was tasked with coming up with. She hurriedly asked to borrow five bucks, even though she had just borrowed five bucks to put on her phone the day before. Having only her salary of $300 a month to work with, every cent of "saldo" counts.
Elian is supposed to be living the monastic life of a Peace Corps volunteer. As far as I'm concerned, despite her access to cell phone, Internet, and DVDs, she still can claim to have survived the wild due to her surviving here without air conditioning for the better part of a year already. I'm reading a book on Latin America right now which presents an erudite set of explanations as to why the region has steadfastly refused to develop itself despite having every advantage. Sat here sweltering, unable to move, the answer seems painfully obvious.
0 comments:
Post a Comment