1st month

It is 12h30AM, November 25th 2006, 1month and 1 day into my trip with only 3 months to go. It is all going by so fast really.

I guess I should be giving some news:

Ecosystem

I’m still getting accustomed to the new details of my reality. Coloured cockroaches the sizes of a Volvo occasionally take a shortcut through our living room. Some more cruel colleagues would Raid the living crap out of them, but the scene is too gross to describe, and too sadistic to repeat. I simply invite them to direct themselves towards the garden with the end of the daily Prensa; fortunately the Volvo size cockroaches are quite slower then their coked up little cousins.

On a less creepy note, besides the grasshopper infestation, a new wave of friends have come to visit us; black furry thumb-sized snails, they barely move.. they just crawl slowly around looking for water, their favourite hang-out is the shower floor. They are actually quite cute, and if it wasn’t for my fear of blinding-infectious-tropical diseases I might actually pet one of them

Work

Besides my official mandate I was asked to give computer and internet related trainings to some of our local partners. My first class, as an ice-breaker, was with only two member of my office; Benjamin who fought the revolution during his teens, and Tanos…who is Tanos anyways? Well I started slowly, helping them set-up email accounts, and explain some basic computer concepts. First I would explain the theory and give an example on my laptop then, in turn they had to use my computer to do the same on their account. It went well. The biggest challenge was to get Tanos to use Purell hand disinfectant before touching my PC. He had been blowing his nose in his bare hands during the whole presentation; he would then release the fluid on the office’s marble floor with a whack of his hand. I am a flexible man, and did not mean to insult no one, but I just bought that laptop!

Love life

You thought the dating game was sad in Quebec. Here it is the saddest game of all. I do not whish to get involved with any local; the cultural gap here is to big and most 18 year old already have 2 children. All jokes aside; guys here basically screw girls and leave them pregnant, then go hunting for more. Single mothers and children spend the days doing next to nothing. The lucky ones have a parent which lives in the states and sends money once in awhile through Western Union. The ‘rich’ parents are usually maids working in hotels, or illegal immigrants working below the minimum wage. But a hundred bucks goes far here. Kids are everywhere; contraception is not very in fashion. When they are not in school, these fatherless children roam the streets. Some are rude, but most are so innocent, so fragile, and so curious. They are smart, they rarely cry, and they seem wise beyond their age. They seem to be the only ones left here with a glint of dream in their eyes.

Excursions

We went to visit ginger farms, and potato farms in a neighbouring cooperation. We rented a Toyota Pathfinder and climbed a steep mountain for hours; I couldn’t believe we were actually dragging a car up there.

We saw many farms and actually got to pull a ginger root right form the ground. It was about 17 pounds of fresh ginger, and we each got a piece.

At the processing plant the farmer would deliver his crop for cleaning, quality control, and packaging. Most employees under the thin roofed court were old ladies, women, teens, and young girls. We interviewed one lady. She is glad there is work, its better than to have nothing. She has to pre-cut some underground hard skinned coco roots the size of a football, and prepares them for cleaning while throwing out the unfit ones. For about every 30 well selected roots she gets 4 Cordobas, about 25 cents US. To protect her knees from her machete she covers them with a potato bag. Diserada and Lea are both six years old and handle the cleaning of the smaller roots. They still have their school clothes, two days in a row. I was there only two days, they might’ve been there all week. But for two days they sat in the sun, elbow deep in a tub filled with muddy water and creepy roots. They always look-up and smile, yet the older girls never smile.

The president of the cooperation gave us a tour. He smelled like cheap mafia. If you listened carefully, he would basically say that he makes 3.5% on the making of the farmer, plus he negotiated loans for them from the bank at preferential interest rates of 19%. 19% percent of interest instead of 25% he sais!!! plus 3.5% of their labour…and he has the balls to call himself el presidente of a cooperativa.

Well that all for now.