San Salvador, El Salvador

I have set foot on three of the seven countries of Central America: Costa Rica, Nicaragua, El Salvador. At some point, I am certain I will visit the remaining four.

In terms of literature, I just finished reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. At times, it was a difficult book to read. It did present a number of questions and observations concerning authority and the institution, as well as ideas of culture and language, relationships and friendships.

Now, as I was flying over Nicaragua and into El Salvador, I began reading Revolution in the Revolution? Armed Struggle and Political Struggle in Latin America by Regis Debray. The author was arrested on April 20, 1967 in Bolivia under charges of aiding guerrilla insurgents under the command of Che Guevara. The book, written originally in French (Revolution dans la revolution?) should be enlightening.

Managua, Nicaragua

As I write this, our small, shoddy plane is preparing for take-off. I am now leaving Nicaragua; like a two-sided coin and like almost everything in life, it is both good and bad. I got my last taste of Nicaraguan beer this morning: one Tona and two Victoria. Farewell for now. One day I shall be back . . . Now, Let the journey begin!

Managua, Nicaragua

Sunday night in Managua. A cool, pleasant breeze calmly caressing the palm trees. Seated at an outdoor patio with a group of twelve, everyone merry as the trip is all but completed. Light-hearted and jovial conversation across the table, each and every one in high spirits. The flickering of the three candles subtly created intimate shadows. To top it all off, we ate to the neoimperialistic sounds of popular American music. I must admit, though, that I enjoyed it. I surmise that it was our tour guides' intention to cushion the retro-culture shock of returning to the United States. Whether or not that is true, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

I began my meal with a Margarita, then a Papaya con leche; dinner was mignon de res con dos salsas along with an utterly delicious Daiquiri. I helped finish off someone's plate of Ravioli con berenjena and completed my meal with a Torta de frutas mixtas con helado de coco: absolutely amazing, everyone had a bite and raved, surely an award for my taste buds after the past two weeks.

On my way out, I purchased a Pucho cigar, which I will probably enjoy just before leaving tomorrow morning. An observation I made at dinner was the abundance of colorful, natural murals in Nicaragua. It serves to reflect the richness and vibrance of life here, even despite being the poorest (economically speaking) country in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.

Earlier this afternoon, after going to the crafts market at Masaya (bought t-shirts and postcards) and the Masaya Volcano National Park, we attended a people's mass at Batahola Norte, a barrio of Managua. The priests gave their sermons and preached in front of a giant, colorful, historical mural in an outdoor, open-air auditorium. Historical figures depicted in the mural were Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, Augusto Cesar Sandino, Carlos Fonseca Amador, and Oscar Romero. Also, 1992 Nobel Peace Prize winner Rigoberta Menchu was drawn on another wall.

Before the mass, I had to speak to the church audience in order to introduce the delegation from Gettysburg. Speaking Spanish in front of over 100 people was a bit imposing, but I did fine. I was able to say what I needed and wanted to say, just not with a flowing, fluent Nicaraguan (or any other country) accent. Nevertheless, I successfully represented the group.

The service itself was excellent. Instead of the pessimistic organs normal in most churches, a choir with a xylophone, guitars, and recorders played music. The hymns were songs with a touch of liberation theology, the religion of the poor. God was portrayed as a worker, an architect, an engineer, an artisan, a carpenter, a mason: a poor campesino. Then, at one point, audience members were encouraged to make a statement as a prayer for liberation, peace, love, equality, truth . . .

Finally, as mass was ending, the priests took off their religious garb to present themselves as average Nicaraguans, at an equal level with their fellow paisanos, and all others in the audience. The subject of one of the priest's sermon was globalization! Absolutely astounding.

Well, as it is getting somewhat late, I will wrap this up. Looking forward to tomorrow, I am both regretful and happy. I am sad and regretful for not having had a better time here in Nicaragua. No doubt I made friends and created many good memories, but due to various circumstances, I did not enjoy my visit to the fullest. Number one was the feeling of being tied down and held back. I am independent and I despise being told what to do. I am fully capable of leading my life, choosing my own trails (Talolinga), and creating my own adventures.

In looking forward to tomorrow, I am happy and excited to be returning to the education and work I am interested in. Besides this, I will admit that I am eager to have fun and return to my social life at Gettysburg. It is due time to depart Nicaragua; it surely made an impression on me. I can say with fair certainty that I will return one day, perhaps on motorcycle or perhaps on plane.

So, in closing, I say "Hasta La Proxima"!!!

Managua, Nicaragua

Took one last tour of Managua. I was able to get some good photos: the Sandino silhouette, the Palacio Nacional, the old Cathedral, and a monument to the Sandinista fighter. Later, we went to an excellent Italian dinner: lasagna with meat and cheese.

Then, we went to a club: Zima. My key observation was that salsa and meringue dancing is very beautiful. I had a few Victoria's (the national beer of Nicaragua). Unfortunately, we had to leave early, around 11 pm. It was good, though, because I had a nearly 3 hour long conversation with a girl on the trip. Good bonding. It made me realize that I wish the group could have gotten together more on an informal basis, and not under the supervision of our tour guides or faculty supervisors. I wish I had gotten closer to the group. Well, after last night, I'll have at least one more familiar (and hopefully friendly) face back at school.

So, today is the last full day in Nicaragua. Today's agenda: the craft market at Masaya and then the volcano. Alright, let's get started!

Managua, Nicaragua

At a base level, it is amusing, but at a deeper level, it is both disturbing and infuriating that many people cannot handle honesty. My natural character is to be honest, even if it is blunt and hurtful. In the end, honesty brings truth, which is how life should be lived: in an atmosphere of truth, not one of illusions, blasphemy, or imaginations.

This afternoon, I made a comment to one of our beloved tour guides that she broke a promise. She responded the only way she knew how: immaturely, by calling me a "smart-ass." I replied by saying I was only pointing out a truth. She had nothing to say of course.

Well, I am now back in Managua, having toured Leon one last time this morning. After our departure from Felipe Santana, we visited a children's school to look at and purchase artwork. The beauty of this country shines brightly through the art of its children. Later, I played the rold of tourist, as I took many photos in downtown Leon.

Now, I am happily here in Casa Fiedler in Managua. One step at a time.

Leon, Nicaragua

Dancing. Dancing. Dancing. I was livin' la vida loca. I danced non-stop for nearly three hours. Two gigantonas came to dance for us. Two girls each danced separately then. The pinata was broken. Dinner was delicious: chicken in a sweet & sour sauce with peas and carrots, white rice, cucumbers, beets, and lettuce, and white bread. To end a good night, I danced to popular Latin music and with various Nicaraguan girls, young and old, for about three hours. My time in Felipe Santana, Leon, Nicaragua is done. We leave sometime after 8:15 am tomorrow morning. One final tour of Leon before heading off to the capital city Managua. What I loved most aout Fel. San: the children.

Leon, Nicaragua

I am just about ready for the despedida fiesta. All I have left is to put on a shirt, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. I am happy for two reasons: 1. in just a little bit, I will be dancing, singing, laughing, and merrymaking, 2. this part of the trip is over. That is not to say that my stay in Felipe Santana has been that bad; I am just ready to move on.

Last night, I got pretty tipsy off of 9 Tona beers. It was nice to temporarily put behind all my worries and problems and most of my thoughts. There are definitely times when substance-induced enchantments are necessary.

This morning, the delegation met with a women's activist and with a university student. Both meetings were interesting. The woman, a worker for Promujer, answered many questions on discrimination, opportunities, machismo, marianismo, politics, religion, and development.

The university student of UNAN was involved with the 6% struggle, in which 6% of the national budget is supposed to, but doesn't, go to education. He was a student of law, focusing on agricultural law and environmental law. I asked a number of questions concerning history, education, politics, and tactics. I also cited the student strikes of Mexico. Afterwards, I spoke for a number of minutes with him, and then again at lunch. This provided me a chance for self-reflection. I looked inwards to ascertain various personal viewpoints and I looked outward to examine what role I can play to impact this world and its issues.

On the way back to Felipe Santana, I took a photo of a mural of Ruben Dario, Che Guevara, and Carlos Fonseca. I am glad to have seen the mural. The past serves to reinforce the present and to encourage the future.

This afternoon, I did volunteer work by painting houses in the community for about three hours. So now I sit here in the bottom bunk of a childsize bunkbed surrounded by Third World modesty thinking of the future. One step at a time. One step at a time. Right now, next on my platter is the fiesta. I will deal with social change when the time is right.

Before closing this, I will briefly explain the loan program of Promujer. Promujer loans out money to groups of 25-35 women. Each woman must pay back the loan every 4 months, plus interest of a 3% rate. If a woman cannot pay back her loan, then the rest of the group fronts the money. Then, due to social pressures, the woman is obligated to pay back her companeras. These community loan programs are expected to last for four years, at which time the community and each woman should be well-established and confident to move forward and progress.

Bueno . . . Time for LIVIN'!!!

Poneloya, Nicaragua

Eternal. Inconsequent. These two ideas are dominating my thoughts as I sit here on the beach gazing out on the Pacific. Eternal: the ocean, the clouds, the sand, the cliffs, the SUN. Inconsequent: ME, and every other life-form sharing this existence with ME. Just as a grain of sand is an inconsequential part of the beach, or as a drop of water is an inconsequential part of the ocean, so am I an inconsequential part of humanity. Or am I???

If by some force, some impetus, all the grains of sand or all the drops of water collectively worked together to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. So, by the same manner, if every part of humanity, every man and woman, worked together collectively to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. The true mystery remains, however, in finding the impetus for that collectivization, that bringing together of humankind.

Just as every empire has fallen, there are two key components. Social systems fall apart due to internal strife and external pressures. Likewise, for a global community to form, there must be internal and external forces. Unfortunately, this almost improbably means catastrophe, which assumes that catastrophic, traumatic effects will continue for too long to provide an opportunity for stable collectivization. Despite, the logic, reasoning, and goodwill of humankind should, and must, suffice to make up this difference. Internal and external causes will most likely be needed to provide the spark, but those intangible qualities which humankind has been blessed with will complete the total instigative force. I am convinced that this world and its people can live in peace and can live equally. Every one has to want it, desire it in his/her own heart and mind. To achieve this mentality, education and communication of the highest degree are necessary. Then, in the institution of the new society, equality of the highest degree is absolutely requisite. One day it shall be. It MUST. One day it shall be . . .

Before closing this entry, I must remark an a young boy who just approached me for one cordoba. Of course I gave him nothing, as everyone should earn, in one form or another, his/her earnings. But, it saddens me that the present order creates a reality in which people have to lower themselves to beggars. I told the boy that I could see in his eyes that he was intelligent. He walked away. Perhaps he construed it as my acknowledging his begging as a business, and not true 'begging.' Either way, not one person should ever have to lower themselves. We are all equals. Every soul is equally valuable. Therefore, the house of each soul should be treated as such . . .

One final thought: a ladybug has landed on my leg as I write this and the SUN shines brightly.

Leon, Nicaragua

It was interesting. There were several acts to the presentation. The first was a young man who sang two songs: a traditional, national song of Nicaragua written by a Nicaraguan composer and a song against drugs written by himself. Both songs were good.

The next act was two teenage girls on stilts. They danced to "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd. The dancing was good. The third act was two young men performing an instrumental act. One played guitar, while the other played mandolin. This was also done very well. The fourth act was five young children shaking cardboard cut-outs of children to more contemporary Latino music. The fifth act was "el viejo and la vieja." It was a very comical act in which an old man and an old woman basically flirted with each other and with members of the audience.

The final act was a 'gigantona,' a 'pepe,' and the accompanying band of snare and bass drums. That was an incredible act, as the origins of the gigantona were, and continue to be to a certain degree, a form of protest against the government. Originally, it was to protest against the colonial rule of Spain over Latin America.

This afternoon, I went to the market with four of the girls. Besides cutting the leash again for a short period of time, the highlight was bargaining for a dress for one of the girls. It was listed at 350 cordobas; I offerred 300 cordobas; the shopowner lowered to 330; I offerred 315; finally, we settled at 320 cordobas. It was fun. I was happy to have finally immersed myself in the urban culture of Leon, Nicaragua. Prior to this afternoon, we had not been allowed to do so, even though we are all adults. Being 22 years of age and nearly fluent in Spanish should give me the right to explore.

I can say, without hesitation, that today, from the moment I woke until the moment I slept, was my best day in Nicaragua. With luck and hope, the remainder of the trip may prove to be tolerable, or who knows? maybe even fun. If not, I can always dream, which is what I will do right now!

Leon, Nicaragua

"Obras . . . No Palabras" : Works . . . Not Words. I just saw a commercial on television proclaiming the motto of President Arnoldo Aleman's government. It seems quite contradictory, though, that the money spent to spread the "word" of the government through commercials and billboards is not spent on public "works" by the government. It is ashamed that government has to be such a business instead of being a service.

Now, to reflect on today's events. Today has probably been the best day since I've been here in Nicaragua. Partly to be different from the rest of the group and partly because it was cooler, I moved my cot to sleep outdoors. I slept fairly well. I woke to the squeals of hungry pigs literally under my cot. That was at 6:15 am.

I got up to eat a breakfast of some rice, beans, and a tortilla. Afterwards, the group was led up the mountain a bit to a water receptacle, which collected water from a mountain spring. We were taken on a tour of the small town, where we saw a community health center and the town playground. What seems backwards is that money was spent to build a playground when there are only ten latrines for a community of over 360 inhabitants. The logic of these rural people, and the international projects that support them, seems mixed-up sometimes.

Well, dinner is now being served, so I will take a quick intermission before returning to finish this entry . . .

Well, dinner was fine: rice, beans, and a beef/potato mix. The latter was excellent. I really miss ground beef.

Right now, it is just about 7 pm. This means that I have to leave shortly for a 'cultural night.' It should be interesting.

Talolinga, Nicaragua

Well, I anticipate this entry to be a very short one. I will be brief and to the point.

I very much dislike one of our "tour guides." She has been subtly confrontational and overwhelmingly dominating. Her supposed expertise of the Nicaraguan culture and language has led her to an illusionary state of superiority. One thing that I utterly cannot deal with is someone who holds a position of undeserved authority. I feel that she has placed us on a leash no longer than my thumb.

I rode a horse today for almost 45 minutes during the first part of the ascent from Santa Rosa del Penon to Talolinga. After I dismounted, I walked as fast as possible to escape the group. I succeeded in doing so very quickly. For the first time, I was not a part of a machine being driven by some false authority. I was seen as just some other visitor to Talolinga. I stopped to get directions from an old lady, got directions from several passers-by, stopped at the edge of town for a drink of water, and beat the group by at least 15 minutes to relax and get a drink of fresco.

Unfortunately, soon afterwards, the leash was retied. At this point, I have relegated myself to living in the shadows and getting by. One has to pick his own battles wisely. Regardless of my attitude, I am here for six more days. I would rather be quiet and reserve myself to my own inner world, retreat to my own inner soul, then to complain about every last detail. I am very much looking forward to returning home to Gettysburg.

Leon, Nicaragua

The bug bites on my socks and underwear regions are turning my life into a living hell. I can't help but think how nice it would be to take a nice, long shower and hop into my bed in Gettysburg. It may just be exhaustion or just plain being tired, but I want nothing but an uninterrupted, deep sleep of at least eight hours. Besides missing the privacy and comfortability of my home in Gettysburg, I very much miss my responsibilities, as well as that special someone.

I would love to elaborate on today's events, including a self-evaluating and group-assessing reflection, but I am just too out of it. So, now I wil remind myself to mention Ramon, el Fortin, el Catedral, the mural of Nicaraguan history, and the group's reflection at the air-conditioned ice cream shop. I may also want to touch on the morning presentation, the history and organization of Felipe Santana, and my evening playing cards with the children of the barrio.

Of course, I wish I didn't feel this way; nothing hurts, but I am uncomfortable both physically and mentally. Despite being with a group, I remain a bit separated. I am a very independent person quite often, but at the same time I miss someone to talk to. At this point, I can only wish myself the best (as always) and hope that the rest of my stay in Nicaragua is at least tolerable, if not pleasant.

Leon, Nicaragua

I am now in the Felipe Santana barrio of Leon. There are some apparent pro's and con's in comparison to Las Mesas. First, there is electricity, running water within the home, and a fenced-in shower right out back. Secondly, though, it is much hotter and the mosquitoes are abundant. Where I was nearly freezing to death in the mountains, here I can sleep without any covers. This, however, leaves me prey to the vicious blood-sucking mosquitoes. I've been told before by many ladies that I am very sweet; if I didn't believe it before, then now I'll take the word of the 'sancudos.'

OK, I just saw a spider of about 3 inches in length. Add this to the list of cons. I am now a bit apprehensive of falling asleep here. I've donated blood before, but always voluntarily and for a good cause. Here, I may not have a choice.

Also, another minor worry is an inch-long gash on my left foot that is already filled with dirt. I'll shower tomorrow morning before going to mass with the group, but as is my custom here, I don't plan on wearing socks. With luck, I hope to return to the U.S. without any infections. I am now very grateful of my work on the golf course for giving me some kind of immunity to bugs. When I visited Costa Rica in the summer of '98, I was left virtually untouched by mosquitoes and other outdoor critters. Now, after a semester of being indoors 90% of the time, I am just another gringo with sugar running through my veins.

This is my fifth night here in Nicaragua; it has been day 5 of 14. I cannot believe that it is not even half over. I feel as if I have been here for at least a week already. Although it is important to face third world realities in person periodically, I have seen little of anything that I have not already seen before.

I very much miss the United States. I must clarify that it has little to do with the standard of living or the living conditions (although I could do without the fleas and mosquitoes); I really miss my close friends and loved ones. I am here in a foreign country with eight others whom I am not very close to nor do I necessarily wish to be. I am desperately awaiting the moment I return to Gettysburg and am anticipating that first warm embrace from that special someone.

A few words on today: the despedida went well. I will always think fondly of Las Mesas and will forever appreciate the coffee-making/producing process anytime I drink a cup of coffee.

I was very much impressed at the level of organization in Las Mesas. There were obvious remnants of the Sandinista political mentality in the rural village. A political hierarchy had been arranged with a President, a vice-President, and other positions as well. There was a Men's organization, a Women's organization, and a Youth group. There was a community house and definitive plans for future projects. Past projects include installation of the latrines, building of durable roofs and walls, building of the community center, and installation of outdoor running water tapped from a mountain spring. The community of 28 families is looking towards a prosperous future due to excellent organization and capable leadership. Perhaps one day I will visit.

Now, back to the present. I look forward to this stay in Leon. With 'buena suerte,' I hope the bugs will have mercy on me. Now, with thoughts of love on my mind, I will turn my soul and body over to the world of suenos. I would say "sweet dreams" but I don't want to attract the bugs. Instead, I will just say "Buenas noches."

Las Mesas, Nicaragua

Well, my time here in Las Mesas is almost over. It has been a memorable time for sure.

Yesterday, I awoke to meet a plateful of beans for breakfast. Needless to say, they continue to affect me at this very moment.

After the morning meal, a group of four of us climbed the mountain to pick coffee beans. We did about four hours of work, from 8 am to 12 noon. There was good conversation and the weather was pleasant. Judging from the content of most of our conversation, it is apparent who and especially what we miss from the United States. That is to say we are all typical young adults.

I finally took a shower, for the second time since I've been in Nicaragua; that was after a healthy lunch of rice, yucca, and cabbage, along with tortillas (I think I'm getting plenty of carbohydrates).

One interjection as I write this: a young Nicaraguan girl just walked by. She made me realize that smiles and laughter are truly universal.

Anyway, at about 2:30 pm, the festivities for our despedida began. First, our "tour guides" from Project Minnesota/Leon spoke as an introduction to our visit here. Much of the community of Las Mesas was present. After briefly outlining the Project, the mic, so to speak, was handed over to me. Speaking in Spanish to the community of Las Mesas, and basically improvising along the way, I introduced the nine-person delegation from Gettysburg, our reasons for being here, and our background and geography in the United States.

After speaking for about ten minutes, we then sang 'Home on the Range,' introduced ourselves individually, sang "My Sunshine," and closed with a thank you. Then, the pinata was brought out. It was fun to watch the children try to break it open. At this point, it was dark out; we ate dinner together as a delegation; and then danced the night away. I danced with a couple of girls/women before settling down to play games with the kids. By the time I got to bed, it was 9:30 pm: a late night. I slept well; dreams of being wiht someone special.

Today, as always, I am both happy and sad to leave. In such a short stay here, I made many connections. Maybe one day I will return. I won't be surprised if they remember me.

Well, now its off to Leon and the next chapter in this short jaunt to Nicaragua. Even despite a gracious compliment by one of the Nicaraguans saying that my speech/presentation was very eloquent and well-spoken, I will still take time to prepare more for the Leon presentation.

A final word before closing this entry is my lesson from this experience: Life that is simple is beautiful. It is a good feeling to be ALIVE.

Las Mesas, Nicaragua

Today has been a long day.

Due to unexpectedly cold weather (probably in the lower 50s) and my lack of any kind of sleeping gear, I lived through an arctic hell. I was lucky if I slept an hour.

Finally got out of bed at 6am (this is about the time I went to bed my second-to-last night at Gettysburg). I went out to the cornfields, walking at least two kilometers up and down rocky roads, and then through overgrown footpaths. After that, I did monotonous work for six hours cleaning and sorting corn. It is hard to believe that people don't go insane here. There is ample opportunity, though, because of time and isolation, to ponder every last subject known to mankind. In some ways this may a bad thing, but in other ways a very good thing.

These people are very proud of their village and its surroundings. I asked a farmer how he felt when woke this morning. He answered by saying that: "Tenia ganas de trabajar." That short statement exemplifies the attitude of these very modest, but proud, people.

The meals here have been wonderful: rice, beans, maguey, eggs, salsa de tomate, peppers, onions, cabbage, noodles, and lemonade and coffee for drinks. The coffee is nothing like the coffee in the United States. Here the coffee is thinner and sweeter. It almost tastes more like a juice.

The children here have become friendly and comfortable with me. They are always asking me to tickle them. It makes me feel very comfortable that they know my name and use it freely.

Today, on the fields, a gentleman asked my companion and I to accompany him. We went to see a three-toed sloth. That was very interesting.

One final thought: the panoramic view of the stars is absolutely astounding. For every one star one can see in the U.S. sky, one can see at least 25 in the Nicaraguan sky. It is utterly breathtaking.

Well, off to bed to rest up before picking coffee tomorrow. (Hopefully I won't die of hypothermia tonight!) Hasta manana!

Las Mesas, Nicaragua

Morning was spent touring Managua. I was impressed by the Palacio Nacional, which is being funded by the government of Taiwan. I was greatly inspired by two monuments: one was the grand silhouette of Augusto Sandino standing atop a mountain over the capital city; the other was a golden soldier holding a machine gun in the air and looking skyward towards Dios. It was inscribed: "Solo los obreros y los campesinos iran hasta el fin." The Bible even says that the meek shall inherit the earth.

A bumpy two- or three-hour journey to Matagalpa was spent sleeping. I was struck by the destruction of the land as a result of Hurricane Mitch. Also touched by the large numbers of people always standing by the road and seemingly lounging around.

Arrived at Las Mesas around 1 pm and was placed with a family. I felt reasonably at home. The weather was fresco and the surroundings are beautiful. There is a magnificent vista from the dirt road leading up the mountain, which is littered by coffee plantations.

Life is simple here: no electricity or bathrooms. But in many ways life seems better. No extra worries. I definitely feel more comfortable alone than with the group of gringos.

I write this now by the light of a pocket flashlight; I am about to hit the sack since despierta is at 4 am: much different than the college schedule. I'm looking forward to tomorrow; working with the land is good for the soul.

Managua, Nicaragua

It has been a long day: been awake since 4:50 am after having slept only one hour last night (I had a guest sleep over). I am definitely feeling the shock of being in a foreign country without any loved ones.

I am also shocked by the conditions of this developing nation; I can only imagine what the shock is for a poor, rural peasant to visit the glamour and glitz of a wealthy, suburban/urban region of a country like the United States.

On one hand, it is sickening that the group has been brought to an obviously wealthy sector of Managua. We are staying at La Casa Fiedler in el barrio El Carmen. However, on the other hand, I can understand that our hosts are trying to cushion the culture shock. The fact that I am grateful for that sickens me. At this point, I wish I was either on my own (apart from the gringos) or back in the States with my girlfriend.

A note on Nicaragua: it is very similar to its southern neighbor Costa Rica, but C.R. is slightly more modern, westernized, and developed. Here, as in C.R., there is a large informal sector of the economy. For example, today driving from the airport to La Casa Fiedler, two young boys jumped on our van to wash the front window. Afterwards, they asked: Un peso, por favor?

San Salvador, El Salvador

As I sit awaiting the departure of my flight from San Salvador to Managua, I can't help but realize how small this world really is. Leaving Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, it takes no more than a few hours to reach another part of the world. We all live under the same sun.

It seems appropriate that I begin the year 2000 by travelling to Latin America. I feel at home here: the weather, the people, and the culture. As I now leave El Salvador, I wish myself the best in this new chapter of my life; in adventure, experience, education, and love.