2011-12-08
At 10:30 on Thursday morning, with my head hung in defeat and the fresh bag of bread still in my hands, I turned around to head home. After spending thirty minutes knocking on every door in the neighborhood and talking to as many neighbors as possible, I decided to save my mission for another day....
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2011-12-08
“What is that prescription for?” I ask the nurse at the local health post as she scribbled on her notepad. “Hypertension,” she replies. “Is that a common problem here?” In response, she pushed the record book across her desk and pointed to the “diagnosis” column. Common would be an understatement. Surveying the column, I estimated...
Read More2011-12-07
The other day I was sitting in my family’s tienda (a little corner store that sells food and random necessities like shampoo) eating pancakes and eggs that I had cooked with Mamita and Vecina (the family friend that lives with us – “vecina” means neighbor). I like to cook for my Mamita, especially when she’s...
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2011-12-04
“Yo voy caminando a la montaña donde nací,” sang out my brother, Omar, and I as we lugged enormous pieces of firewood up the mountain to the family car. No weight was too heavy to bring down our spirits today, for indeed we were “going for a walk to the mountain where we were born.”...
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2011-12-02
The preferred form of public transportation in Leona is the “auto,” a pickup truck from the 1960’s (and rarely a slightly later model) with a sort of frame affixed over the bed to facilitate squeezing the maximum number of humans inside (and on top) for the journey. Like the locals, this is the primary means...
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2011-12-01
At the end of Fall Training at Stanford University, I learned I’d be working with CARE-International in Cayambe, Ecuador, instituting sexual health projects. Despite all warnings received from Global Citizen Year staff and friends and family at home, I started to make assumptions. I thought I’d be teaching sex ed. I thought I’d be handing...
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2011-12-01
“ C’est quoi?” (“What is it?”) I asked, in response to what my new host mother had just told me. When I first arrived at my new home in Palmarin, my French had been less than mediocre and my Serere was non-existent. Consequently, “C’est quoi?” became a popular phrase. I would sit while my family...
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