oh brother.

I’ve been an only child my entire life until three months ago when I arrived in El Salvador. First with a host family during training I had two siblings who were mas o menos (just so-so). I’ll leave it at that. But now I’m with my second host family and have two brothers. Actually I have more than that since my host mother has 6 children but my two host brothers are the only ones who still live in the house where I stay. Don’t let that confuse you, I still see the other children pretty often as the families are really really close here. I even have a “cousin” who comes each morning to eat breakfast at the house. I wonder why…because I KNOW she has her mother and other siblings. But that’s the American analyzing the situation.  In short family is more fluid here compared to the U.S. nuclear version.

Introducing my favorite brother Alex. (I know I shouldn’t say he’s my favorite but dang it. HE IS.)

Alex is 14 years old. He is super sweet. Has a raspy voice. Curly hair. When I initially arrived to the home his curls were long, wild, messy and beautiful. For the first few weeks his family kept telling him he had to cut it. He fought it pretty hard, and I tried to back him up as much as I could. One day when I returned from work Alex came into the pupusaria, where his mom works, with his shirt over his head. The poor thing was embarrassed because they had cut off way too much. He finally showed me and I assured him it would grow back.

Another one of my favorite Alex qualities is that he talks a big talk and complains loud and defiantly if he’s asked to do something he doesn’t want to do but in the end will always do as his mom says.  When he’s not running an errand for his mom he can be found riding his bike or playing soccer in the street. He likes to be taught English and in the morning I sometimes help him with his homework. He is in a room next to mine, which shares a half wall. So although we can’t see each other we still talk every night before bed. One night he shared with me that he had a special lady friend named Elsy. The whole family suspects he has a girlfriend but I just smile when the topic comes up. And after we turn off the lights, he says Buenas Noches hermanita. And I say buenas noches hermanito lindo. Ah, I just love him. And to top it all off his name is Alex. The name of one of my best friends in the whole wide world. My mom.

Here are some photos:

The first two photos are of him in the mango tree on the side of the house. One of his chores each day is to climb up (and the boy can climb) and shake the mango out of that tree. Then we gather them up and his mom makes fresco de mango. Very tasty but a serious pain in the butt to make. First Alex shakes and gathers the mangos. Then we skin them. Followed by cutting the flesh of the mango off the rather significantly sized and oddly shaped seed. After the mango is blended up and put through a cheesecloth along with more water. Sugar is added. Then comes the taste test and more often then not, way more sugar is added.  

Here, Alex is bringing down a banana tree. The bananas here are always fresh and habitually tasty. Yum.

Christian. Oh Christian. Where to start? Well, he is 4 years old. Adorable looking and plays hard. Sometimes I love to watch him play. It reminds me of being a child and having an imagination where the world melts away and all that is left is the constructed make-believe world only a child’s brain can create where anything is possible. Christian lives life from the moment he gets up to the moment his little head drops on the pillow at night. The boy jumps into life and gets messy. So that’s the inspiring part. The uninspiring part is when he screams for a bottle at 5 in the morning, or refuses to go to school by throwing an extremely earsplitting tantrum. And when I have to request a please and thank you every time he demands something from me. But at night when we put in the movie Selena for the 100th time and he cuddles with me in the hammock I forgive the lil’ bugger.