swine flu, funerals, and host siblings

So ever since I've gotten back from the U.S., schools have been canceled in the whole country because of the threat of swine flu. I'm no expert or anything, but I think the reaction may be a little overblown since there haven't been that many deaths from swine flu here and I'm not sure how canceling school is going to prevent any more, especially since most places of work are still open for business as usual.
What this means is that the past week has been pretty slow. Even though I don't teach every day in the schools, a lot of my projects are nonetheless reliant on working there. For example, I am trying to get a computer project up and running in several schools. Peace Corps has a partnership with an NGO in the U.S. that will supply us with used computers for schools for $110 each, a great deal. But in order to organize the fundraising, I need to be meeting with the school directors and teachers. Same thing for the recycling project I want to kick off or the excursion I'm planning.

Though I'm looking forward to getting back to work next week, this time off has been nice in other ways. My host sisters have been back from the capital, which has been great. Carmen is 24 and studying business at the university there and her sister Reyna is 27 and a practicing lawyer. As you can guess, they are pretty different than most people here, even though they both lived here until they graduated from high school.

The family is really interesting because there are a total of 9 kids, 7 of whom are in the U.S. As they have so much money coming from the U.S. they are considered one of the better-off families here. But instead of wasting their remittances on fancy clothes and cell phones, their mom made a special effort to send her daughters to university, allowing them to become the professionals they now are. She, on the other hand, is barely literate.

The gap between generations is obviously huge, but even between the siblings their lives have been so different. I just got a chance to meet Luis, one of the eldest siblings, who is back here for a funeral. He left for the U.S. in 1988, during the civil war here when he was only 15 years old. He was not an economic immigrant, but a political refugee, forced to leave because the army was kidnapping young boys and making them fight. He left when the family was still dirt poor and went to the U.S. without speaking any English and with no immediate family. He's worked hard there over the past 20 years and now is the foreman for a construction company in the D.C. area. He has not forgotten his home, however, and frequently visits. He's the one who bought Carmen and Reyna the home they live in in San Salvador and the car they drive. As their father died ten years ago, he is like their surrogate dad. By his character, I can immediately tell he is a mix of the two cultures. He carries himself different and is more polite and formal than a lot of the guys here. It's so interesting talking to him and thinking about the America he lives in versus the one that I live in. Being here has truly expanded my perspective on my own country.

Oh and I forget to mention the funeral he is back here for is the uncle of the family. He was murdered two days ago in the early morning at his cow corral. Apparently, a woman from the next town over had him killed over a land dispute. As I have talked to Selena, my teacher from high school, there is a a profound lack of constructive engagement of conflict here, a probable effect of the civil war. It's so tragic how quickly people resort to violence.

I have been to more funerals here than I have been to in my whole life in the U.S. This man, Oscar, was a prominent man in the community and people have come from all over to attend the funeral. Both nights for the last two nights my host family has been out until 1am in front of the deceased house, drinking coffee, eating cookies, and praying over the body. Outside the house a ton of people sit and gossip, it's like a community gathering. Today the will bury the body in the graveyard. As this family is better off, they were able to afford a nicer coffin and a professional videotape of the event. The cameraman was there last night filming the people and the grieving family as they wailed over the open casket, screaming "why are there such bad people in the world? these people don't have the right to exist! my brother was a good man! a good man!" The whole experience was so different than what we do in the U.S.