Beef. It’s what’s for dinner

WARNING. There are no laws in El Salvador regulating the backyard slaughter of a cow. For reasons which will become immediately obvious to those who choose to continue reading, anyone even somewhat weak of stomach or animal rightsy should avoid the following post...

I live in the campo. That means the woods, the boonies, the sticks. And in the campo, it goes without saying we kill animals and eat them. Every day. We do this because children who eat meat, beans and tortillas once a week grow up bigger than the ones who just eat beans and tortillas. And sometimes, the meat that kids eat comes from that cute cow you passed on your way to the school. You know, that black one with the cool white splotch extending across his side, like someone hopped out from behind a tree and mischievously splashed it with a bucket of paint.

At this point, I believe I should mention for the record that I firmly believe cows are:

1. oddly cute
2. have pretty eyelashes
3. are an icon of pastoral life.

But deep down, we all know the facts. We’re carnivores and one of them feeds hundreds of us.

So here ya go. A quick primer on killing a cow.

Am I safe to say that most of you haven’t done this? And if you have, you cow-killers you, will you be insulted if I explain things that may seem obvious to you and other cow-killers? I hope that you won’t.

For starters, killing a cow is a big deal. They cost hundreds of dollars and take years to raise to maturity. The one we killed and ate was three years old. My buddy Carlos (Cowboy Carlos to those who've had the pleasure of visiting and meeting him in person) had raised it for a special occasion. I wasn't kidding, by the way, about what I said above. They really do feed hundreds of people. The catch is, they’re a bitch to kill and make into bite-sized pieces.

So what do you do? You call up your buddies, invite them over, and go to town on the big guy.

Ok, now the back story...

About two weeks ago, Cowboy Carlos's eldest son got married. And to celebrate the occasion, Carlos, a few friends and I slaughtered one of his cows. A big one. A bull, in fact, that apparently tipped the scales at around 700 lb.

The process of killing and butchering him took way longer than I expected, having only seen a butchering a few years back in training and having not stuck around for the full process. It's quite a bit to take in. Here's a glimpse of what's to come just in case you're not ready.



Man, those blue eyes were mesmerizing. Where was I? Ah yes, cow death. Apparently, by the way, not as bad as pig death. But that's not saying much. At this point, I'm glad I have to take their word for it.

After we tied him up, our fearless leader Carlos started it off with a quick stab, just behind the head. I was surprised, but as if on cue, the big guy quickly lost his balance and fell down. Okay, so apparently that's where cows keep their gyroscopes. After that, Carlos made two large holes in the jugular and you can imagine what happened next. A lot of blood. Torrents of it.



After about 20 minutes, the sides of our beautiful beast stopped moving. Somebody deemed him ready to go and, using a series of ropes passed through branches from the mango tree overhead, we turned him on his side. Carlos grabbed his knife and quickly went to work stripping the hide.







After the hide's off, you really start going at it. I kept joking that we could all save a lot of time if I went and got my neighbor's chainsaw. And that's when they brought out the axes.

"Jesus, what the hell are you gonna do with those?" I asked.

Then this old guy grabbed one, ran his finger along the edge to make sure it had something to it and started going to town on the ribs.







Hey, I’m feeling kind of nauseous and have dry-heaved multiple times in the past 10 minutes. But you know what I need? Snacks. Lots of 'em. And coffee. Fuck it, how ‘bout a coffee break?



This is about the time one of my female neighbors shows up and just quietly sits on a rock under a tree, waiting patiently. It wasn't until we separated the stomach, intestines and unidentifiables that she perked up and I started to discovered why.

Here the men are haul the good stuff far enough away for her to work "comfortably" they said. Translation: even they were kind of grossed out she was going to make soup from that.



Later on, the expert butcher we brought in, turns the giant slabs of meat into their more familiar looking form - steaks for the wedding banquet.



And there you have it. Elapsed time: 7 hours.

For the most part, the big guy just laid there and accepted his fate. I think maybe that's the part that was toughest to watch. Seeing this enormous creature pass from one astral plane to the other. Or if you're feeling more philosophical, passing from here and there to everywhere.

Thanks for the care package!

Not sure who sent it, but thank you (whoever you are) for the xmas package! It was exactly what I needed... two gringas and new year's at the beach.



Well, another bold pair of gringos has ventured south and survived the savior. By now we've put together quite the little packaged tour. A little bit of community time, a night in the mountains, some coffee time in Juayua, and finishing up with a few days at the beach.

Here are a few shots from the week...

We started out in my community, where the fearless gringuitas dove head first into the experience. Bucket baths, hot, dusty roads, and of course, the infamous roosters. "You mean roosters crow at two in the morning too?" Yep, they do.

They met my neighbor, Melida, and her four beautiful daughters, and got a good taste of campo life. Here they are at my local wholefoods



And here's mom giving tortillas the old college try



Ellie using the "dishwasher"



In general, we just sort of hung out in and around my house. I wanted them to acclimate and to sort of soak in the pace of life in the campo. Plus, they were visiting in one of the driest, hottest months, and even my idiot dog who eats rocks (yes, eats rocks) knows walking around in the afternoon sun means certain death.

But when the air cooled, we ventured out. One afternoon we hiked to the edge of my community and up to a hill overlooking the volcanoes and nearby lake, shared with Guatemala. We turned around and were stunned by a pretty amazing sunset. I couldn't remember the last time I actually sat and watched one.



Afterwards, we went mobile and hopped around to mountaintop villages and pueblos around the country, trying to give them a sense of tiny El Salvador. Highlights included small artisanal workshops, a healthy amount of hitchhiking, and an impromptu reiki session at a french bakery.





Hitchhiking mom



Hitchhiking Ellie



Later we met up with a few of my buddies at the beach. Here's one of those idiots showing off the guns



We hotel hopped and found a nice one with... drumroll please... a waterfall and an infinity pool. Here's Ellie enjoying infinite relaxation







I think in the lead up to the trip, I definitely had my concerns about what type of a trip we were going to have. They weren't exactly like Ben and Adam, my camping compadres and indestructible as far as I was concerned. But I knew it was important for me to share my life in the campo and reconnect with my mom(s) worrying about me back home. I think most people have a tendency to imagine the worst, like how I had been worrying about them, until they step foot in my house, talk with my neighbors, and see the people I work with. In short, see how good a life it is.

I think after that, all those fears, irrational or not, seem to fade away.

Besos and abrazos to the ladies for taking the plunge. Much love. G

Let's catch up. It's been a while - Part II

Guatemala, aka, Indigenouslandia

A while back, actually like months ago, Lauren and I took some time off to visit our upstairs neighbor, Guatemala. We could hear the music and smell the food and just couldn't resist.

If you haven't been, which I'm guessing you haven't, Guatemala is a remarkable country. Somehow able to modernize with the times, yet retain its indigenous heritage. Add to that some of the most impressive geography around, and you got yourself a pretty cool place.

As usual, our week hitchhiking and couchsurfing flew by. Along the way, we met some amazingly cool people. Guatemalans who opened up their homes to us without a second thought, gringos living down south, making maps, teaching art and yoga.

If you've never traveled without a plan, I don't think I could ever fully express what it's like. You begin to feel like a leaf floating in the breeze. Just trusting that you'll get where you need to get eventually. It's truly freeing.

You could literally spend months exploring Guatemala's nooks and crannies. And it would take me just as long to write about it. But here are a few memories from the trip.

Indigenousness

Probably the one word I would associate best with Guatemala.







I mean, damn! Look at those colors. We were struck by the rainbow of clothes and people. It was actually way cooler than I could ever show, but enough people told me about Mayan law and how the people reeeeeally don't like getting their picture taken (read: public lynching), so I decided to holster it for a while.

Halloween at 14,000 feet

In search of something a little off the beaten path, Lauren and I decided to spend Halloween waaaaay off the beaten path, on Tajumulco, the highest peak in Central America.

Imagine a dirt road that just sort of dissolves into pastures, and those pastures dissolve into pine forests rising up out of the hillsides, which then dissolve into boulder fields leading into whiteness above. Eventually your only guide is the mountaintop playing hide and go seek above you through the clouds.



All in all, it wasn't a terribly hard climb. But the last few thousand feet, the altitude starts to hit you and you begin to feel your heartbeat pounding throughout your entire body. It's amazing, I distinctly remember clinging to the side of the mountain, trying not to get blown off a cliff in virtual whiteout fog conditions, and the only things I could hear were my own breath and the pounding of my tired little heart. It was memorable.

When we finally reached the summit, we took a couple photos, ate a banana, and started realizing how underdressed we were.

The wind picked up and it didn't take long before we decided it was best to make a push to head back down. The decision was made even easier when the lightning, which had been casually striking the valley below us, started rising up towards the above-treeline summit. Yikes. Like I said, an easy decision, made easier by the hail (yes, hail), mother nature's final warning that maybe we overstayed our welcome.

Here's Lauren, before the lightning and hail kicked us off the mountain and reminded us living is way cooler than dying.



Back down at the base, where I experienced the worse hypo of my life. Took me 30 minutes just to get the feeling back in my hands. But worth it!




Lago Atitlán

Hippie sanctuary and all-around beautiful place. The allure of it is obvious. We stayed at a penthouse hotel overlooking the lake that cost 30 quetzales a night. In case you're wondering what that breaks down to, it's cheaper than a latte at starbucks. And that was for the both of us.

Many gringos come down to the lake to meditate, chill out, eat buddhist food, whatever, and don't ever leave. It's very tempting.











Well, for lack of time, that's how I'll have to leave it. But it goes without saying, I'll be back, and there will be more Guate photos in the years to come...


PC soccer team

Really good at posing. Not so good at scoring.



Couchsurfers

A couple weeks ago, a few acro-yoga teachers from San Francisco crashed at my place. So cool. They actually led an impromptu yoga class in my site and, probably the best part, they taught me how to do it (haven't dropped anyone yet!).





They were fun, and reminded me how much I used to love yoga. We'll see if the women who attended their class ask for a repeat.


Shampooooo with my women's committee

Last month, I made organic aloe shampoo with my women's committee and you won't believe it, people can't get enough of this shit. Even a few business owners in town are selling it in their stores. Who knew? The best part is it's actually good shampoo and crazy easy to make. Maybe next time I'm in the states we can do a little shampoo workshop. That way, Adam won't have any more excuses for going weeks without taking a shower.

Let's catch up. It's been a while - Part I

Man, it's tough to stay on top of things. In an effort to cover a ton of info as quickly as possible, I'm blitzing you guys with a two part series consisting of massive amounts of photos and little intellectual thought.

Why?

Well, for starters I'm a month behind on my blog and in that time a lot's gone down. A quick list: visited El Salvador's congress with my buddy Will, helped my community complete a $1,000 USAID rabbit project, organized a free eye care event, hitchhiked around Guatemala for a week, spent Thanksgiving on the beach with an embassy family, hosted about 100 guests and couchsurfers at my house, threw two christmas parties, made shampoo with my women's group, and harvested honey with my buddy Cowboy Carlos.

Add to that the fact that mom and Ellie arrive tomorrow (yikes!) and you can see why I'm rushing to get this stuff out. So here's your whirlwind tour of what's new in the neighborhood...


Rrrrrrrrrrabbbits

Awww, aren't they cute? Thanks to the nice people at USAID, I eat one every week. Fact.




Eye care event

Imagine that, we have smoke-damaged eyes and can't afford $20 subsidized glasses. Arg. Next step: fundraising to help people buy said glasses.




Mental note: despite what Muhammad Yunus says, micro lending does not always lead to a Nobel Peace Prize

Hey, what happens when a Salvadoran NGO gives farmers $10,000?

a) They form a solid, well-educated board of directors who meet regularly, delegate tasks, and quickly deal with problems when they arise.

b) They quickly mismanage funds, don't deal with the problem for two years, and hope that the banks don't notice they put their houses up as collateral.

I'll let you guess which one happened in my community. As this one deals with money, I'm totally keeping my distance. But training the new directive and improving the organization's reputation in the community is eating up a lot of my time. It's been a valuable experience, but one which I'll definitely draw from the next time I'm swept into a discussion on micro finance.

Here's Salva soberly explaining to the shareholders how if they don't come to meetings they'll never see their money again. Good times!




Thanksgiving at the beach

Every year, embassy families working in El Salvador extend their wings and take us fragile little peace corps birds into their adoptive nests to eat and drink like it's going out of style. As last year's turkey day was a bust, I was due. And this year, my buddy Will and I hit the jackpot.

We spent the week with probably the most open and generous embassy family imaginable. For security reasons, we can't use names. But suffice it to say, they were embassy bigwigs with stories you wouldn't believe. "You know who's an asshole? Kissinger. Man that guy used to get on my nerves..."

While our friends were in San Salvador networking their way to the top, listening to christian rock, and talking about the virtues of jesus (all true), Billy and I spent our days chilling in the pool, drinking chilled Sam Adams, and collecting shark teeth along the exposed shore at low tide.

Our host spent most of the day playing in the national golf tournament just down the road, but when he got home, we talked and enjoyed the good life. Our friend Charlotte showed up, and it was the definition of vacation.

Don't worry, mom. It didn't top turkey day in Maui. But it certainly came close.

On a lighter note...

I'd just like to start by saying I thought it was a good idea at the time...

Last week, for Día Nacional de Las Pupusas, my women's committee and I organized a pupusa eating competition. For those of you unfamiliar with pupusas, they are this country's gift to the world. Cheese, beans, squash, carrots. So many varieties. Salvos go nuts for them. And you would too, as they cost a quarter. And are delicious.

Word spread quickly and pretty soon we had eight competitors from our community, the pueblo, and even one from across the nearby guatemalan border. Some of these guys were pretty well-known, having competed in other events and eaten upwards of 35 tortillas, 2 pizzas, etc. It goes without saying I was nervous.

As with any competition, be it hot dogs, pizza, dunkin donuts munchkins, you feel like a star quarterback with all the confidence in the world, right up until you take the first bite. And then it hits you... what the eff have I done?

What do they call it? The fog of war? Yeah, it's true. Strategy? Tossed aside? Careful planning? A waste of time.

I took mine down with my favorite hot sauce, Pica Diablo. 66 cents of pure fire in the hole. For some reason I thought this was a good idea, to numb my face to the experience. To shock the mouth as well as the stomach. Bad idea. I ended up chugging milk and water, whatever I could get my hands on, just to kill the pain. Meanwhile my competitors munched away like cows, slowly showing the gringo how it's done.

But in the end, I represented and took down a solid stack of 15. Pretty respectable. The winner, however, by just a bite, polished off 19.

All in all, it was an incredible experience. We set out to throw a fun event that would unite the community and maybe give us something to talk about for a few days. But over 80 people came, and after a few hours, the women's committee raised $56. Combined with a few raffles, we're up to $70. This Tuesday we're meeting to discuss what to do with the cash. Save up and buy an oven? Plan weekly nutrition classes for the community? Who knows...

Here are a few pics from the event, which I'm pretty sure I blacked out during.



















Oh yeah, forgot to mention. To all the losers, I handed out rolls of toilet paper and peace corps issued pepto-bismol tabs. They loved it.

How YOU can help

It's starting to come up, so I thought I'd highlight the best option.

Aid El Salvador, the NGO our boss helped create five years ago, has set up a disaster relief fund to enable direct, quick donations to the affected families living around San Vicente. Please click on the link below and consider donating whatever you can.

<<< Aid El Salvador >>>

As soon as news of the disaster hit the international community, Aid El Salvador's board of directors held an emergency meeting to discuss how to connect interested parties with affected families in Verapaz and Guadalupe. They are working around the clock to ensure that donations reach affected families. Trust that your hard earned cash will reach salvadoran families in need.

In addition, Peace Corps staff has been out to the affected communities to distribute donations collected in San Salvador, assess damage done to host families, and check on friends and family. Many PCVs are frantically calling PC headquarters to request information on their training host families around San Vicente. Both Peace Corps and Aid El Salvador are working around the clock to ensure that families receive the bare essentials they need in the coming months and do not get left behind.

Donations can be received via Pay Pal from a link on the website
www.aidelsalvador.org. In the message section, please note "disaster relief".

You may also send checks to the CFO Pete Rennard at:

2688 Pala Mesa Court
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
Email: info@aidelsalvador.org
Phone: 714.809.7084
Fax: 949.515.4153

Thank you!