From Sweet....

From Sweet....
Originally uploaded by ancho and lefty.

One day, three invitations

I was invited to go to soccer games in a neighboring community this morning. Our local elementary school boys and girls were going to play a team from another neighboring community. Our school actually had to join forces with another school to have enough bodies on the field, but we were well represented. The best boys and girls players proudly came from our school.

At seven this morning we (students, parents, and yours truly) set out for the soccer field in the next community about 2 kilometers from here. I led the boys, who have a tendency to want to walk faster. We arrived about 10 minutes before everyone else. We hung out on the concrete stadium bleachers and I tried to keep them from breaking apart the ageing concrete. Finally everyone started trickling into the playing area, the teachers finally lined out the field, and the girls, who were to play the first game, got their uniforms squared away.

The girls played valiantly, winning 4-1. The boys had the opposite experience losing by at least 5 goals- I lost count. Anyway, I thought you would enjoy the team photos I took. The boys and girls have to wear the same uniforms--- so maybe that’s why the girls get to play first.

It was a lot like any other kids’ soccer game anywhere else in the world- the parents tried to tell the coach who to play. The mom’s yelled out instructions on the field, even pacing up and around the field like a coach might. The kids had packed lunches and fruity drinks for refreshment. Blisters were rampant. A few tears were shed after some collisions. I got a sunburn, etc.

Yesterday I received another invitation- one that did not sound quite as fun as a soccer game. The local energy cooperative was having a community meeting here and all of us were invited to come and listen to the schpill about what’s going on with our electricity. They tried to bribe us into coming with promises that if we sat through the whole meeting we would be registered for a drawing for microwaves, irons, and lamps.... lots of electricity-using home appliances in other words. I went to the meeting, which was actually quite informative. I learned about the power infrastructure. I learned about the financial solvency of the cooperative. I learned about energy efficiency. I also witnessed a bit of a power struggle over who would be the local delegate to represent this community in the annual cooperative assemblies. This power struggle was definitely gender-based. I think many people left the meeting upset because a man who already holds many leadership positions sort of bullied his way into the delegate’s position, while bullying a woman who was really interested in serving out. The meeting was interesting in a way that only an anthropologist would appreciate. Full-on participant observation.

I also received a birthday party invitation for Oct. 8 for my landlady’s son. It is proudly posted on my refrigerator. That means two things- 1. cake and 2. arroz con pollo, most probably. It also means I’ll be snapping photos and thinking about a good present.

After all the high drama in the elementary school classroom where the electric cooperative meeting was held, I trudged down to Flor’s house in the rain. Flor, her Dad, Juanico, and I all left the meeting at exactly the same time--- pretty much sick of the lack of organization of the voting process. I knew that Flor’s daughters, who were also at the meeting could give me a report of the outcome of the power struggle. I also knew that if I stayed much longer I might open my big mouth and that’s not really what I am supposed to being doing here.

Flor’s daughters eventually did come by and report in. The outcome was as I expected. The man would get the voting delegate position in the assembly and the woman who many people supported would have a voice but no vote. We all gossiped about the meeting and then Roxanna snapped some photos of me with the kids. Thought you might like to see where I eat dinner every night and the little people who come visit me.