On conversation in rural El Salvador

[this post was written in February, 2008]

On our way back down from the mountain,

after buying a chicken and getting some ice pops,

we stopped at Mike's host mother's house.

The four of us sat down and waited as Mike talked with Mercedes, the head of the household. Each exchange of words was followed by a long silence. I somewhat anxiously wondered if we were intruding. I would have fidgeted but for fear of startling the chicken tucked under my arm. Dogs lolled about. People came and went. Huge bags of coffee beans were delivered. I pondered the holes in the roof. Isn't there a rainy season? Eventually Mike bid his farewell and we all filed out.

I left feeling guilty about my inability to speak the language and contribute to the flagging conversation. Mike explained rather simply "there are no awkward pauses."