Dominic´s land of aguacates

For five weeks each program sector separated and went to different campo communities. My sector went to the northwest part of the country to Altamira. My first day there I realized that my Doña was “la jefe” in charge of the entire campo. Campos are small rural communities scattered throughout the country. She had her “stuff” together. I would benefit from her owning a “colmado” by receiving numerous snacks during the day. When it was time for dinner she would ask me what I would prefer. I would reply by saying eggs. She would then grab two eggs out of her “colmado” to cook for her American “hijo”. I felt bad that she was taking money out of her business, but she had the biggest house in the campo so I figured she knew what she was doing.

I lived in an agricultural community. This meant that there was arboles de orange, grapefruit, coconuts, cocao (the stuff chocolate is made from), bananas, guava and my favorite, drum roll please…avocados. I was in heaven once I saw a tree with giant avocados hanging from them. The entire campo knew of my love for avocados, so every meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner I had a giant piece of avocado. Sometimes on a lucky day I would have chopped pieces of avocado mixed with onion and vinegar. Now in the States avocados are small, black and expensive. Here in Altamira they are giant, green, and free.

In the morning we had Spanish class for four hours, then went home for lunch for an hour and a half, then off to technical training for another four hours. It was like drinking water out of a fire hydrant; so much information and not enough time. But, now I know I have two years to refer back to all that information I took notes on.

After our brains were spun in the dryer, which we called Spanish class, one of my class mates and I would go to our happy place of playing catch with his football. It was almost like a bonding therapy; thank God for that football. His Doña definitely gets the hospitable award for our campo. People would walk by and yell, “MILAGRO” she would reply by grunting a lazy “entre”. She would then shove a plastic chair and a cafecito in your face.
While living in different towns hours apart from each other during technical training, Tina and I supported our relationship by buying expensive phone cards to call in-country with cell service of one-bar that frequently (i.e. always) dropped calls. In sum, we spoke 3 times for a grand total of 5 minutes during the 5 separated weeks.

I would pass what down time I had with my Dona in a plastic chair on the opposite side of the street of her “colmado”, because that is were the shade was. One day I was attempting to put together four questions in Spanish which, no lie, took me three hours. To my defense I had some distractions; she was loofahing her feet with actual sand paper, LOL. As well as every day at 5 pm when the older kids got out of “escuela” the street would be filled with the noise of “motors” racing down it. And yes, it was the “estudiantes” driving; no certain age here needed to be handed the keys to a vehicle or motoconcho.

Our last night in our campo our community totally threw us a block party “despedida” (going away party). We had a giant outdoor flame where they cooked a giant pot of asopoa (a mix of rice, broth, chicken parts). My Dona sold beer out of here “colmado” to keep the party going and gave me a few for free as well:). During dinner we shared tears when all the families and volunteers spoke about the experience of the past five weeks.

¡Neli, voy a volver en el futuro con mi esposa!