Things are winding down at my schools. By the second week of November we should be done teaching new material, and then we just review until exams. Only the kids who are in danger of failing have to take the final exams, so we will only be reviewing with a few of the students, everyone else gets to start their vacations early. The last day of school is December 16th; we start back up in mid February.
I do have a new project to keep my occupied during the break from school. I moved! Into my own house!! I live all by myself!!! I cook for myself!!!! This is big news for me as a Peace Corps volunteer, and for me as Julia. This is the first time in my life I’ve lived alone. I’ve always had roommates, housemates, my own family or host families to live with. I was a little apprehensive at first, wondering how I manage in a house all by myself. I thought I might get lonely, or scared, or become a hermit and never leave. I’ve only been in my house for two weeks now, but so far I’m loving it, and I think it was great decision. I feel extremely safe in my community. Everybody knows me, everybody looks out for me, and I know that they all have my back. The reality is that there isn’t much crime that happens in Chimurria, either. There is really only one person in the whole town I need to look out for: Alfonso.
Alfonso is an old homeless man who goes around and takes peoples clothes that are drying on the line and then tries to sell them to people. He takes things people leave out in the yard or on their porches (toys, doormats), and carries them around on this sack on his back. He wonders around the entire county of Upala, but he grew up in Chimurria, so he comes here often. People tell me that he was born to one of the richest families in town and that he lost his fortune when he got addicted to cigarettes. He spent all his money trying to buy cigarettes and eventually lost his house and his family to his addiction. I’m not sure if it’s just a tall tale that people tell about Alfonso, or if any of its true. But I do know that he doesn’t drink, just smokes like a chimney. I’ve never seen him without a cigarette, and every time I see him he’s asking for another. Another fact about Alfonso is that he’s mentally ill. His family basically abandoned him once he started stealing in order to buy cigarettes. So he doesn’t have a home or family that will take him in. I know in the United States there is a kind of fear of the homeless, but in Chimurria there is an intense fondness for Alfonso. People call him, Alfonsito ( an endearing way to say Alfonso). They always offer him food, try and give him new clothes and a bath. But no one really wants to take responsibility for him, and it seems that Alfonsito doesn’t want to be anyone’s responsibility either. He actually hates taking showers, and if you offer him the use of your bathroom he usually gets offended and walks off. Alfonso and I have an odd relationship. He has a really bad memory, but I talk to him sometimes so when he sees me he knows that he knows me, he just doesn’t quite know how. But he does remember my last name, and usually yells it at me as we pass on the street. He likes knowing peoples names and the origins of their names. I think mine must be the only non-latino name he’s ever heard and he really enjoys saying it out loud. Alfonsito is also a mumbler, so I can’t understand much of what he says, but we get along alright. I suppose he would steal my porch mat if I left it out, but I’m not sure that I would get all that upset about it. It is somewhat of a relief to know that he is the biggest security threat to my community.