They came. They saw. They conquered.

I’d be lying if I said I remembered it all. It was just so much in such a short amount of time. How can it not all blend into a single feeling? A mixture of emotions.

So when I think back on my brothers’ visit three weeks ago, all I can do is smile. It was epic, as I'm finding out most things are around here.



The first couple days of the Cohen invasion were spent chilling in my community, getting them used to the heat and easing them into life down south. Campo life isn't something you can really understand without actually experiencing it. You have to live it for a while to really know it.

For example, a machete isn't just a badass tool. It's probably my most trusted friend, besides my rock-eating, cross-eyed dog, Peligro. And bucket baths? How can you explain to someone the rare mix of pain and pleasure from an ice cold bucket bath on a hot day?



To help with the transition, Lauren, along with Mr. Slim Jim himself, the pride of Michigan, and his girlfriend, Diana, clearly the pride of El Salvador, came over to chill at Base Camp Cohen.





In addition to Lauren, Jimbo and Diana, from the moment we arrived, we were hit with a ton of visitors. In the weeks leading up to the trip, I'd told enough people about the visit that the entire community was abuzz with the news that my two bros - one, a mirror image of me, and the other, a guitar god - were going to grace us with their presence.

Here's Ben doing a good job scaring my neighbors...



... and his younger brother



My friend Don Chepe stopped by to serenade us for a while. Sweet guy. Sick guitarist. Knows every White Stripes song by heart. Alright, you got me. He has a funny voice and only knows ranchera music. But he did jam with Jimbo and Adam for a while.



In general, some of my favorite moments of the trip were just watching Jimbo and Adam talk about music. Adam, who just finished up a master's in music composition, and Jimbo, a lifelong guitarist, hit it off like Ike and Tina, before, you know, things got messy.

Most nights we'd just sit around outside my place and jam for hours. Sometimes people would drop by and sometimes we'd just play until things degenerated into, well, you'll see.

Please note: no alcohol was consumed in the making of this video. Seriously.

Time to crash. The Four Seasons ain't got nothing on us



The next morning, we visited my friend Cowboy Carlos and his wife, one of my favorite families to visit. Carlos is the real deal. A true cowboy. And visiting him is always an adventure. I never know what he's gonna be doing. One afternoon he's branding cattle. On another he's getting ready to drive the herd over the mountains to Guatemala to fatten up and sell. He's the one who taught me how to harvest honey (see Jan. post) and who constantly offers me horseback riding lessons. One day I'll take him up on the offer.

Cowboy Carlos, certified scuba diver



Cowboy kid



Cowboy Adam



Cow balls. Oh wait, I guess those would be bull balls



Back home, Adam gives the machete a try



Sidenote: it wasn't all peaches and cream. I made those bitches earn their keep.

Here's Adam doing a little maintenance of the rabbit cages



And Mr. Bean taking out some pesky weeds



Meanwhile, I chilled with my neighbors



And Diana entertained the girls



But all work and no play makes jack a dull boy, so...



Later that night, one of my friends invited us over for what turned out to be the feast of all feasts. The plan was for Ben, Adam and I to make an american style dinner for them. But the next thing I know, he's switched it on us, and we're sitting in front of a huge cornucopia of bbq'd meat and veggies (for Lauren). It was a special night.







We also hopped over to Metapan to vagar (wander around) and take advantage of cheeeeap stuff. How cheap, you may ask? How's a dollar haircut sound? Or a $6 dental cleaning?



All in all, it was fun introducing them to my meta friends and wandering around cowboy town



Plus, they got to experience a typical salvo bus ride. 80s music in a beat up bus from the same decade. Kind of perfect.

After a good taste of life in my community, we headed up into the mountains to spend the night in a little cabin we rented











We hiked to some nearby waterfalls







And checked out the zip lines. Very cool!

All in all, it was a nice change of pace for me. And very cool to take a mini-vacation only 10 minutes away from my site. Worth.



Then, off to the beach, where clearly anything goes...







We ended up running into another PCV whose sister was visiting from Nicaragua









And as usual, up to Juayua to coffee country and one of the most beautiful towns in the country



Juayua's known for its weekly feria gastronómica and we definitely took advantage of it



They also grow some of the best beans in the country. So good, even Starbucks is in on it



We also hiked to the famous waterfalls. And yes, for those of you who know what I’m talking about, they did the tunnel. The definition of badasses.

Back at the hostel, we got a little camera crazy...



And Lauren got a little crazy crazy...

Ben, campo style



Mmmm, ham flavored Pringles



Now here’s the good stuff. Authentic pupusas



And an authentic Lauren moment. If you haven’t noticed, she's a fan of the curtido.



On Saturday, Ben, being the somewhat more responsible brother of the three, had to leave early. Something about a wife and kid. But Adam and I kept the party going...



We spent another night in Juayua. The highlights included: A chocolate milk taste-off





Checking out a weird band playing at a funky bar that just opened up



And hitchhiking like it was our job



We walked around Lauren's community, which I affectionately call Poverty Mountain, and hiked up to Laguna Verde.













After Juayua, I had some meetings in the capital so we stopped by the PC offices, had lunch with the Country Director, and then wandered up to Jimbo's site on the side of a nearby volcano.



Those last few days with Adam were great. I think he got a true "peace corps" experience. Traveling around, meeting locals and trying to communicate and connect any way possible.

Just before they came down here, Adam brought up the fact that we hadn't had a brothers only overnight trip in years. Not since we all camped up on Mt. Washington something like 10 years ago. In his words: "better make this one count." Well, little brother, this trip couldn't have counted more. Thanks for taking the plunge.

Hanging with Mr. Hooper

Yeah, I did it. Lame joke, I know. But c’mon, look at this photo. Can you blame me?



Anyway, before I post a ton of stuff about the Cohen brothers’ epic invasion last week, I wanted to post a quick entry about a few days Lauren and I spent out with our buddy Jim, aka the Professor, a nickname I threw out back in Washington and am surprised to this day that it stuck.

A few words about my good friend Jim. Jim's the kind of guy who if you told him something can't be done, he's already halfway there trying to do it. He’s got that drive inside that many people don’t.

Jim was one of the guys that during site selection interviews told our boss "bring it on."

Well, she did.

Jim lives up in the mountains on the Honduran border, a good two-hour hike from the mountain town where we went for the eye campaign back in February. If you remember from my February post, that’s waaaay the hell up there. Getting there was intense. A full day of hitchhiking and multiple hours of waiting and dancing on the side of the highway. But eventually we made it, and it was definitely worth the trouble.







Jim's community sits atop a series of dry, pine covered mountains. They have no electricity and have largely built their own houses from the pine trees they harvest.

The previous PC volunteer was a Maine carpenter, so Jim, the lucky bastard, lives in his very own log cabin. Picture Walden, but without the frequent visits from his friends and supply shipments from his family in Boston (read the book - it’s true).

Here’s a shot of the Professor’s modern day Walden





No, apart from a few creature comforts, Jim lives the quintessential "peace corps" life. That romantic JFK/peace corps ideal people still cherish. Those Norman Rockwell-esque images burned in our collective conscious.

Jim gets up with the sun, goes to sleep when it sets. An exciting night is talking for hours with his neighbors, sitting around a small wood fire propped up on the stove.

Lauren and I went there perhaps for the same reasons people went out to visit Thoreau. To see an old friend and get a little perspective on our own experiences.

You see, there’s a tendency for PCVs to suffer from classic “grass is always greener” syndrome. There’s often a tinge of envy every time we ask our friends how things are going. We look at their sites and say to ourselves, man, if only I had that in my community, I'd be kicking ass. I guess it’s just a coping mechanism to help us deal with the fact that development work is slow. Like really, really slow. And results are few and far between. So when we visit other volunteers’ communities, it’s only natural to blame elements of your own for the lack of tangible results. Or just as natural to take at face value the successes you see around you. Not taking into account the challenges and failures you can’t see.

But spending time up at Hoop’s site was great. A real trip. We ate meals with his neighbors, swam in ice cold rivers, and enjoyed a simple life Paris Hilton couldn’t ever imagine.







Plus it was great seeing Jim’s work. Using money from both the community and USAID, his community has been working on a mini dam to generate hydroelectric power. His community development council is hoping to divert water from their river and generate power for the community. A pretty ambitious endeavor, but poco a poco they're getting it done.



Jim also had set up a youth soccer game against kids from a nearby town where a few of our Irish buddies are working.





They’re sort of an Irish version of PC, funded by their government and working with the same organization that plans the giant Eye Care Campaign every February in Perquin.

After the game, we headed off to our Irish buddies’ site, a half hour hike through the woods.



Another quick note about Jim. He's a huge climber. I mean huge. And along the way we stopped every once in a while so he could hop on interesting rock faces or show the kids how it's done. A lot of the fun was just seeing Jim act like the big kid he is when it comes to climbing, almost forgetting to let the kids have their fun too.







Eventually we ended up at an amazing series of waterfalls called Las Pilas, where we swam in natural pools, practiced scaling rock faces, and tried not to fall off the very high waterfall just downstream...



All in all, a great experience. Thanks Jim!

Jules + El Salvador = Awesome

Tell me this doesn’t sound like a Hollywood movie pitch: The hip, urban, New York ad executive comes to a third world country. She eats, drinks, sleeps local culture... and survives to tell about it!

So as you know, HC didn’t end up chilling down in ES with GC. She came, she saw, she conquered. But didn't end up helicoptering into my site, which is literally what was planned. If you're confused, don't worry, I didn't really tell many people about it. But just know that it would have been an amazing 15 minutes of fame... that ultimately petered out.

However, a month later, I got the next best thing - Jules! That’s right, add Jules to the “I actually came to El Salvador” club.



It was a crazy week. Because of the Fourth of July festivities and some community projects I had lined up, I had to give her a whirlwind tour of the country and PC life.

We kicked it off with a few days in the capital for the Fourth. Ah, the Fourth. Sort of an extra special day for those living outside the states. Quick sidenote, among other events and debauchery for the weekend, part of the excitement is for the annual inter-program soccer tournament, in which Rural Health would defend its title and right to hold the PC Cup for another year (double sidenote: just like the Patriots and my own fantasy football career, we pulled it off). Two years in a row. Victory is so, so sweet.



Anyway, while I was off playing, Jules was doing what she does best - networking! I was always glad to glance towards the sidelines and see her mixing it up with my friends. But at one point, it dawned on me that I may have been giving her a distorted impression of what PC life is all about (gringos converging on the capital, eating taiwanese food, going out dancing). But I think her time in my community quickly erased any notions of a posh PC existence...

So, off to my community or as it's called here, the campo. For a New Yorker and someone who admitted in confidence once she got here that she'd only been camping once in her life, Jules did great. She took bucket showers, ate beans and tortillas, interacted with my neighbors and local kids who sometimes, I fear, think they actually live in my house, and she got a good taste of campo life.

Here's Jules teaching a few bichas how to paint happy little trees



In addition to giving her best impersonation of Bill Cosby's Picture Pages on my front porch, Jules also helped me out with the graduation of my latest computer class. Man, I had a really good group this time around. I almost didn't want to let them go. As usual, for their last day we held a typing and math competition and I let them eat cake. Good times.









She also had the chance to take part in a huge event for my tiny little community - a two-day soccer tournament we've been planning for the past few months.







After that, it was my turn for a little R and R. We took off for a few days at the beach. Oh beach, how I adore you. There's nothing like drinking a few beers and relaxing in the sand to get your mind back on track...









After we got our fill of maritime adventure, we headed up to Juayua for a few days to visit Lauren and see a little of coffee country.





Lauren just recently was awarded a SPA grant (small project assistance) from USAID and is in the middle of a series of nutrition and health workshops for the women in her community. She also was able to build/buy two super efficient wood burning ovens for a nutrition center and her local school. Very cool. These ovens are made by the same organization that produces the wood stoves I've been promoting in my community and are pretty damn amazing.

My role for the two-day event was to teach 60 women my mom's famous banana bread recipe, which by now is spreading like wildfire. We divided them up into groups and got to work mixing up batches, as well as mixing in a bunch of info about basic nutrition and variety in their families' diets. Hey mom, bet you never thought your famous recipe would become world famous!

Most of the nutritional information we were teaching might seem pretty basic to your average american. You guys probably could tell me what the food pyramid is and what makes up a healthy diet. Or what a healthy amount of fat and sugar we're supposed to have in our diets. But when you live in a tin shack on top of a mountain, and have spent most of your life without electricity eating a combination of the same four dishes day in and day out, these messages aren't so old.

In addition to the baking classes, a fellow volunteer named Heather led self-defense classes, which I've got to say leads for one of the funnier images I've seen over the past year and a half. Here we are, in Lauren's über religious site, teaching the women to scream and punch and throw flying elbows. It was probably the loudest they've ever raised their voices.







And then off to the waterfalls...

Jules was visibly not psyched to hike in flip flops



But I think in the end, she'd be the first to say it was worth it



I think if one looks hard enough, you might find an analogy or two about El Salvador in that...