I'm living, and you're living, let's just do it together.

So I'm pretty sure I'm out of my muck.

I had a great day yesterday and a fabulous lunch this afternoon.

Last night, Cara Caponi (Casa alum from last semester who goes to BC) called to say hello to Allison and me. It was perfect. It couldn't have come at a better time really. And I know you're reading this, Cara, and I'm not trying to be a yoyo (brown-noser). But even though it was during dinner, a dinner that I was supposed to help clean up, I was relieved by my community and able to talk.

She told me that other Casa alum are reading this, some whom I don't even know, so I just wanted to take a second to say...ummm...where are you?

But anyway, I've been feeling lately that I'm so go go go and have not been able to offer thought to anything. I feel as though I'm just explaining things and not having emotions about them - minus the machismo thing. But even that, I feel as though I'm slacking. It's just a lot. It's a lot to be able to express through words and through language how exactly life is.

I wish you could see my face.

Last night we had our five week evaluation of the program. Not the classes or the praxis sites, the program. It turned into something other than an evaluation, it was more of a relfection. To be able to have that space, that ability to feel open to talking about how were were feeling/thinking or not feeling/thinking is so appreciated by me and valued. It's one thing during orientation to have this feeling, "Oh, now I'm going to open up to try to start out open and on the right foot with everyone." It's a way of getting yourself out there, maybe a way of showing that you do not want to be left behind or whatever. But when that feeling stays, it's something beautiful and different. Last night we were all able to discuss different subjects, different view points, different places we were in our life - all the while leaving behind the criticism and disrespect and closed hearts. We just embraced one another with the utmost care. It helped me feel more alive.

Machismo was brought up a lot. A self-defense class was recommended, as well as an open forum on the topic and and recommendations of how to deal with it, where to go if you feel threatened, etc. Fact is - we're helpless. It's difficult to accept. It is the first time in my life when I can feel true oppression. This is solidarity. Solidarity does not by any means alway share to be positive - a "let us rise above this mood". It can be a sulk, a frustration, a sense of hopelessness. I'm losing a lot of hope right now, but it's still there somewhere. I just can't grab it.

I can feel my heart breaking right now.

Something I want to share is also something I'm a little nervous about sharing openly with those in the states. I'm scared. Things are not getting less violent here. There was an article in the newspaper last Friday about these men, possibly gang members, who are going around Santa Tecla and Antiguo Cuscatlan (the town in which we live) and abducting women and raping them. Kevin and Trena have always been careful and emphasized the importance of the rules we have in place for security. You cannot walk alone here, ever. Many of us are already nervous about walking between houses at night by ourselves - even though we have a vigilante (William) to protect us - but he's not always in view because it's dark. But he's there to escort us. If we call his name he'll be there in 30 seconds. Thats all besides the point. The thing is, the thought has crossed my mind that there could be a possiblity (however microscopic it is) that we may not make it through this semester. We may have to come back.

There are moments during the day where I think "I'm done with this." But then immediately I cringe and know I'm not. You cannot be "done with this". What does that even mean? Another event that happened yesterday - three ARENA deputies were killed in Guatemala, one day before the father of one of them was about to be given the honor of "Son of the Country". This man was also the father (not the son) of the death squads during the war and the founder of the ARENA party - which currently controls El Salvador. He is thought to be responsible for the assassination of Oscar Romero, a man well known and respected by many in Central America, including Guatemala.

Things are thick. And deep. And wounded. It's gut and heart wrenching to not know what will happen in the next three months. And it's not the type of exciting, anxious gut and heart wrenching - it's the nervous, scared kind. I can't stay indoors forever, we have to confront our fears. I have to teach my students about life.

I'm teaching a life class in Jayaque. It's a group of 15 students who go to school in the morning from 7-12, but are required by the director to be there in the afternoon for missing school, smoking, starting fights - for their deliquincies. But these children are charged - in every sense of the word. Yesterday we came up with themes for the class, after I explained to them that Ryan and I are there for them, to give them answers to the questions they have that go unanswered in school and at home. We will talk about drugs, gangs, sex, violence, families, homosexuality, music, love, life. I cannot let my personal fears effect my ability to effect my new amig@s when they havent even been given the chance to know how to feel this way.