Bwuuuu

There is a noise they make here—kind of like a high-pitched bwuuuu—that would perfectly describe how I feel about the past week. You’ll probably notice it the next time you see me, because I can’t seem to converse without it now. Its meaning is flexible but tends to convey something along the lines of “Good God!” In this case, if I used it you would understand it as “Oh my God, you don’t even know!” But that was last week and, after a bout of crying in the municipality, I’m feeling much better. Yes, I cried in the local municipality. I’m sure they think I’m emotionally unbalanced.

I cried not because I was actually that upset that I was being denied funds through the Presupuesto participativo, but because I was repeatedly being told that my entire concept of development, whatever that is, was just plain naïve, and that the people will never change. The idealist in me cried. The realist in me was discouraged, because realistically I don’t believe positive sustainable change is possible without a good dose of idealism.

I left emotionally drained and laughed in the park with Susan harder than I have in a long time. I think it was somewhat of a turning point. If I actually wish to see some kind of shift in mentality among the people in my community I have to start looking at my work more like a job. No one really takes me very seriously and maybe I haven’t given them enough of a reason to.

Up until this point I think I have been walking on eggshells, tripping over myself just to avoid offending anyone because I live here and because I’m supposed to integrate. But I’ve got to be more honest with people. Not everything is perfect here. Everyone burns their trash. No one recycles. The development committee is defunct. People are perfectly capable of telling me that they have no money for an improved cooking stove and then buying S/70 of beer. Of course it’s all normal, but that doesn’t mean it should be.