02.24.05 - 4:10 p.m.

Ay, the keyboards in El Frijol. Hope you can read this entry. Central American communication systems can be difficult. Public phones that don�t work so well in the rain...at least there's an internet cafe on every corner.

The interns are arriving. They are so textbook. One trying to bond right away, so insecure. Another just so fresh faced and trying her Spanish right away. One girl, the youngest, just turned 17 traveled by herself from Bananolandia to El Frijol and already seems like she's ALL THAT. I asked her not to go off on her own (one of the rules of the program I run) but she already did. Sigh. I hate shit like this. I hate confrontation, ESPECIALLY with teenagers. I�m so lousy at it but I have to nip it in the bud now.

I had a girl like this last time, she was the youngest and traveled alone and thought she was hotshit and when I had to enforce rules she was very passive agressive about it. She thought I was ugly and had bad skin and said as much to other people. She bitched about me to others but never to me. It seems to be the mommy-leader curse. On the one hand they need that outlet -At one point when I lead a trip to Hueypu I went with seven 15 year old girls and I decided I�d rather have them all love eachother and gang up on me than the other way around, but with older kids (these are 17-19) I like to think that they can handle confrontations. Don�t know why I think that when I�m so crappy at it.

One of my goals is to be more open myself and really sit on things before I react. I pride myself on my quick thinking but when it comes to egos and rules and feelings I have to take things slower. So I have to be even keeled but firm with this girl and kind of let her know I�m serious without coming across as a bitch. So she still trusts me but knows there�s a structure she�s bought in to by being a part of this program.

Amazing too that her mom let her go off to Bananalandia and travel to El Frijol alone. I don�t think I�d give a just turned 17 year old that kind of freedom. Although when I graduated high school I lived in Spain with a host family for a summer. And got crabs. And had condom-less sex. And drunk. And sunburned.

This job has so much pressure. I have to remember the joy too and maybe back off a little more than I did with my last group. I think before I was overinvolved. It�s hard to keep perspective when you�re immersed. But I know more now.

On a side note, Dominic the Italian who owns the pension we are staying at offered to take me to Cuesta Azul next in a few weeks. We have a great repoire, it�s nice to see him and such but the minute he offered I felt that warning like I shouldn�t go because it might mess up our friendship. Traveling with men can be tricky. I�m not attracted to him or the Ciudad Capital of El Frijol where we are now, which is a shame because I could totally live and work with him if I wanted. In any case right after he asked me I got all weird and awkward and then he invited me out to dinner with him and his friends visiting from Italy. It felt kind of couple-y. I hope that�s not what he�s thinking. I should find out. And trust my instincts. If I�m not attracted I shouldn�t do anything. I have a history of being lonely-horney here in El Frijol and letting total jerks do dirty sex things to me that should be reserved for those you love. In fact I�ve already made reservations to stay at the hotel that jerk works at because it�s an amazing hotel. Hopefully he won�t be there or harbor any hard feelings (he read my journal that said I hated his plastic-ness and the dirty things he did).

Ya. Me voy. Gotta have dinner with the four interns that are here. The rest come at 10pm.

I wish people could write to me. But my contact me page doesn�t work. Send me comments, notes if you want. I�m curious what you all think of this journal.

Que les vaya bien,
Paleta

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