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| Nicaraguan Classroom |
View from the Port
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| Taking a Spin |
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Just a Jot
Realizing that I’ve almost been in Nicaragua now for five months has been kind of weird. Around this time, I was starting to pack up and head home from Argentina. That experience felt like a long time, but I have about a year and a half left in my service. Que barbaro that here I am just starting to get around to getting in touch with some of you.. I am really sorry for that.
Some of those mind blowing daily occurrences in Nicaragua are starting to become normal as I notice that my jaw drops are starting to turn into shoulder shrugs. Although, I wish I could have written down some of those first reactions to laugh at later.. I will never forget the horror of seeing a 250 pound pig tied to the top of a school bus and dismounted by rope beside my window.. But I am sure I’ll recollect some of those memories over time which will allow me to randomly laugh in an inappropriate situation.
Before I become completely accustomed to everything, I thought I would share a “top ten” list I jotted down the other day of things I have decided that I have been enjoying about Nicaragua over the last five months.
10. Machetes serve a purpose for everything. Locked out of your room? Need to open that coconut? Want to kill that snake that just fell from the roof into the house? No worries, just grab the machete. The best part is that they are cheap. You can land yourself a fancy one for 85 cordobas.. About $4.00.
9. The platano tree. I still haven’t figured out my attachment to this one. But, they are just so damn beautiful. You can forget you are on the island sometimes especially when the kids in your classes forget their isleño, tranquilo attitudes. Remember that thing Leo used in Deception to remind himself that he is in a dream? For some reason, the platano tree seems to remind me that I am pretty lucky to wake up everyday and call this place home.
8. My mode of transport here are old school buses that have been retrofitted. It seems that Barcelona futbol club stickers and some kind of saying about the Virgin de Guadaloupe are a requirement. Can we call these things flair? The buses usually blast reggaeton or if you are lucky, they have somehow affixed a TV to the ceiling that plays all too exaggerated music videos for love songs in Spanish.
7. If I miss my normal mode of transport (which happens a lot) I have a back-up. Hitchhiking or asking for what Nicas call a “ride” is perfectly acceptable. Who knows, you might even be offered a ride on the back of your Vice Principal’s motorcycle after he slyly sprayed on cologne.
6. Everyone knows everyone.. And everything about everyone.
This could also be called town “chisme” or rumors, and yes sometimes it is really annoying. But, they don’t have addresses or street names here. So, getting directions usually translates into “por alla” or “over there.” Because everyone knows where everyone lives, you never have to. You just ask.
5. They love fiestas even more than I do. I will never forget the first time I met one of my principals. He had three questions for me. How old are you? Are you Catholic? And most importantly.. Do you like to dance? There are usually fiestas held in my town on Saturdays for the beauty pageants with seven year olds or any other excuse that comes to mind. Starting in November I hear there are marching bands in the streets starting at 4 am every single morning. Early right? Still haven’t figured this one out. As a side note, you can also get a custom piñata designed as literally anything you could ever think of.
4. Pulperias. These are little corner stores run out of people’s houses that sell your basic necessities like eggs, laundry soap, powdered milk, rice, beans, etc. They usually all sell the same things and sometimes there are four of them lining one block. As a small business volunteer, this is probably what I am trying to change and technically shouldn’t make the list..Besides the point, they are extremely convenient.
3. Front Stoop Service. Even more convenient than a Pulperia. You can literally sit in your house all day long and have everything you would even need without ever to get out of your rocking chair.. or hammock. A woman comes by every morning with fresh milk, a man can come shine your shoes, and a cart carried by bulls comes by to sell watermelons. The list goes on.
2. Rocking chairs. Everyone has got beautiful, handmade, wooden furniture. Too bad the shipping is pricey.. My host family right now literally has ten of them in their living room. I haven’t purchased one yet, but I’d at least like to come back off the plane to the States with a hammock in one hand and a rocking chair in the other.
1. Hammocks are everywhere. My first big Peace Corps purchase figuring it would play a large part in the experience. Unfortunately, I do work here, so I haven’t been able to spend as much time in the hammock as I’d hoped so far.
Some of those mind blowing daily occurrences in Nicaragua are starting to become normal as I notice that my jaw drops are starting to turn into shoulder shrugs. Although, I wish I could have written down some of those first reactions to laugh at later.. I will never forget the horror of seeing a 250 pound pig tied to the top of a school bus and dismounted by rope beside my window.. But I am sure I’ll recollect some of those memories over time which will allow me to randomly laugh in an inappropriate situation.
Before I become completely accustomed to everything, I thought I would share a “top ten” list I jotted down the other day of things I have decided that I have been enjoying about Nicaragua over the last five months.
10. Machetes serve a purpose for everything. Locked out of your room? Need to open that coconut? Want to kill that snake that just fell from the roof into the house? No worries, just grab the machete. The best part is that they are cheap. You can land yourself a fancy one for 85 cordobas.. About $4.00.
9. The platano tree. I still haven’t figured out my attachment to this one. But, they are just so damn beautiful. You can forget you are on the island sometimes especially when the kids in your classes forget their isleño, tranquilo attitudes. Remember that thing Leo used in Deception to remind himself that he is in a dream? For some reason, the platano tree seems to remind me that I am pretty lucky to wake up everyday and call this place home.
8. My mode of transport here are old school buses that have been retrofitted. It seems that Barcelona futbol club stickers and some kind of saying about the Virgin de Guadaloupe are a requirement. Can we call these things flair? The buses usually blast reggaeton or if you are lucky, they have somehow affixed a TV to the ceiling that plays all too exaggerated music videos for love songs in Spanish.
7. If I miss my normal mode of transport (which happens a lot) I have a back-up. Hitchhiking or asking for what Nicas call a “ride” is perfectly acceptable. Who knows, you might even be offered a ride on the back of your Vice Principal’s motorcycle after he slyly sprayed on cologne.
6. Everyone knows everyone.. And everything about everyone.
This could also be called town “chisme” or rumors, and yes sometimes it is really annoying. But, they don’t have addresses or street names here. So, getting directions usually translates into “por alla” or “over there.” Because everyone knows where everyone lives, you never have to. You just ask.
5. They love fiestas even more than I do. I will never forget the first time I met one of my principals. He had three questions for me. How old are you? Are you Catholic? And most importantly.. Do you like to dance? There are usually fiestas held in my town on Saturdays for the beauty pageants with seven year olds or any other excuse that comes to mind. Starting in November I hear there are marching bands in the streets starting at 4 am every single morning. Early right? Still haven’t figured this one out. As a side note, you can also get a custom piñata designed as literally anything you could ever think of.
4. Pulperias. These are little corner stores run out of people’s houses that sell your basic necessities like eggs, laundry soap, powdered milk, rice, beans, etc. They usually all sell the same things and sometimes there are four of them lining one block. As a small business volunteer, this is probably what I am trying to change and technically shouldn’t make the list..Besides the point, they are extremely convenient.
3. Front Stoop Service. Even more convenient than a Pulperia. You can literally sit in your house all day long and have everything you would even need without ever to get out of your rocking chair.. or hammock. A woman comes by every morning with fresh milk, a man can come shine your shoes, and a cart carried by bulls comes by to sell watermelons. The list goes on.
2. Rocking chairs. Everyone has got beautiful, handmade, wooden furniture. Too bad the shipping is pricey.. My host family right now literally has ten of them in their living room. I haven’t purchased one yet, but I’d at least like to come back off the plane to the States with a hammock in one hand and a rocking chair in the other.
1. Hammocks are everywhere. My first big Peace Corps purchase figuring it would play a large part in the experience. Unfortunately, I do work here, so I haven’t been able to spend as much time in the hammock as I’d hoped so far.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Ten Years Later
Sunday was the 10th anniversary of September 11th, and I still remember sitting in my 8th grade composition class in what we called the “dungeon” room in the locker pit. We were presenting our writing portfolios and I think I was doing a report on St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Someone from the office ran to the door and told us to turn on the television quickly. The next thing I remember was a boy in my class yelling “boom” as a plane crashed into the second building of the World Trade Center. This boy was 13 years old, what was he supposed to know about what this would mean for our country and our stance in the world? Over the next couple of days I remember being worried about the significance of the event. Everything seems to be exaggerated and rumor spreads like fire in a middle school, so I remember overhearing talks of wars and a draft. I had nightmares that my brother or dad would be headed off to war. The following New Years my family visited New York City as it was still trying to cope with the shock three months later. An eerie feeling surrounded Ground Zero as the flowers placed after the tragedy started to droop. However, everywhere you looked American flags adorned the fence that separated the outside world, us, from the rubble.
Thirteen years old is an influential time, you tend to observe and soak up pretty much everything. While some tended to take the victim stance which is understandable, I just wanted to understand why someone would do something so horrible. As a 13 year old, I can promise you that I was not able to articulate US foreign policy. But, I do think this event is what began to shape my perception of my country in relation to the rest of the world that wasn’t always the most forgiving.
Looking over the last four months here in Nicaragua, I have developed a stronger sense of identity in and for the States. I guess you could call this patriotism. For instance, I have really learned to appreciate the diversity of our people and amount of access to other cultures. I think we forget how unique that makes us sometimes. Nicaraguans love to talk about food. They talk very endearingly about the rice and beans that they eat three times a day... but I love that I can’t easily answer what food is most typical to the US. We have choices and access that I will never be able to justly explain in this culture.
While I might have thought of the United States at one time as the buff big brother, I now believe that we actually do have a lot to offer communities in the developing world as well as a responsibility to do so. Right before leaving for Nicaragua, I visited a physician that had returned from Iraq as a doctor on the front lines with the Marine Corps. I remember her emphasizing to me, “Serving your country really is like nothing else. You’ll see.” Standing with my hand on my heart and singing the national anthem during our swearing in ceremony to become volunteers, I genuinely felt proud to be a part of the Peace Corps and a representative of the United States. Months earlier when we were invited to the Peace Corps there was an letter included in our packets from President Obama in which he said, “serving abroad will allow you to be a unique ambassador of the American Spirit, reinforce our ties with other countries, and recognize our current destiny.” I really do think the initiatives of the Peace Corps embody the best things about us as Americans, and I have come to believe that by creating a sense of understanding through cross-cultural exchange we can hopefully help to restore the image of the United States around the world.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Happenings
When I got to site, a volunteer friend of mine told me that in the last year he had done a tally of classes missed or canceled for some reason. Apparently, in his case class is held about 75-80% of the time. This is often due to teachers meeting with parents, “trimming” the trees around the schools, village parties, the list goes on. While it might sound nice to have the day off, usually you find out after traveling about an hour by bus to get there.. or better yet by bike. Luckily, this time I was informed that there would be no class.
With my day off, I decided to go ahead and check off one of the places on my list to visit- Finca Magdelena. This coffee cooperative is made up of 24 families and located about a 1.5 kilometer hike up from the town of Balgue. From the property you can take off to hike Volcan Maderas, a nearby waterfall or go on to see the petroglyphs.
I’ve often caught myself thinking that I am in a whole different world on this island. On top of this mountain, even more so. I realize Peace Corps service can be a pretty challenging experience at times. It has the tendency to tug on every thread you have got left. We are faced with so much poverty, unwanted attention, and awkward situations tend to fill the majority of our days. Sitting in an old farmhouse drinking a cup of strong Nicaraguan coffee grown in the land behind me and looking at a volcano, lake and butterfly farm simultaneously, I can’t help but look around myself and realize I am a pretty lucky girl.
For instance, the hospitality of the people continues to surprise me. Coming from South Carolina, we brag of the hospitality of our people and pineapples (the symbol of hospitality) adorn everything. However, the warmness of this community is something else. Every single person that you meet tells you their name and where they live. Then, they invite you over for coffee or lunch whenever you want. The thing is, you better go or else you will probably offend them. For example, a couple of weekends ago, we were in Rivas. We stopped by a house to ask about a good and cheap place to eat breakfast. (I love how in Nicaragua you can add -cito to the end of any word to add an endearing “little” to any word.) In this case she asked if we wanted gallo pincito, pancito, huevito, quesito, y cafecito... rice and beans, bread, eggs, and coffee (a typical Nica breakfast). We told her, sure that sounds great, where do we go? She said, adelante.. or come on in and proceeded to make us breakfast.
Speaking of breakfast, this is a picture of my amigos “helping” me to make pancakes. After talking them up all day.. I failed. And I failed miserably. I am still trying to figure out how I got into the Peace Corps if I can’t even follow directions from a box. We’ll blame it on the fact that they don’t use non-stick pans here. Anyways, I fed the leftovers to the pig in the back yard. By the sound of his grunts, I think he at least enjoyed them.
Here are also some links to photos that I have posted on Facebook. You should be able to access them even if you don’t have an account, but please let me know if you have any problems.
With my day off, I decided to go ahead and check off one of the places on my list to visit- Finca Magdelena. This coffee cooperative is made up of 24 families and located about a 1.5 kilometer hike up from the town of Balgue. From the property you can take off to hike Volcan Maderas, a nearby waterfall or go on to see the petroglyphs.
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| One of the views from Finca Magdelena |
For instance, the hospitality of the people continues to surprise me. Coming from South Carolina, we brag of the hospitality of our people and pineapples (the symbol of hospitality) adorn everything. However, the warmness of this community is something else. Every single person that you meet tells you their name and where they live. Then, they invite you over for coffee or lunch whenever you want. The thing is, you better go or else you will probably offend them. For example, a couple of weekends ago, we were in Rivas. We stopped by a house to ask about a good and cheap place to eat breakfast. (I love how in Nicaragua you can add -cito to the end of any word to add an endearing “little” to any word.) In this case she asked if we wanted gallo pincito, pancito, huevito, quesito, y cafecito... rice and beans, bread, eggs, and coffee (a typical Nica breakfast). We told her, sure that sounds great, where do we go? She said, adelante.. or come on in and proceeded to make us breakfast.
Speaking of breakfast, this is a picture of my amigos “helping” me to make pancakes. After talking them up all day.. I failed. And I failed miserably. I am still trying to figure out how I got into the Peace Corps if I can’t even follow directions from a box. We’ll blame it on the fact that they don’t use non-stick pans here. Anyways, I fed the leftovers to the pig in the back yard. By the sound of his grunts, I think he at least enjoyed them.
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| Most of you probably know Bunny or Buns, just to let you know he's doing all right in Nicaragua and has made some good friends. Also, he sleeps under the mosquito net at night so he's not too itchy. |
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.856243244724.2323828.21312865&l=578c69e6c4&type=1
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.843145048614.2318807.21312865&l=93141e4852&type=1
Saturday, August 6, 2011
I´m Here
I arrived on the island Sunday late afternoon without a phone and without a place to live. Looking back over the last four days, I can’t believe how much has happened. I am so fortunate that I am here even though I am a little overwhelmed for the amount of work that has to be done. As of today, I successfully made it through my first week of class. Also, don’t you worry I am no longer homeless. I am still working on getting my phone back from Managua though..
While on the island, I’ll be working in the local, public high schools training teachers in the Entrepreneurship course. It is pretty exciting that the business course started by the Peace Corps under the name “La Empresa Creativa” was adopted last year as part of the national curriculum by the Ministry of Education. Arriving in Nicaragua, I was hesitant about the job description considering that I’d never even taken an Entrepreneurship class, and I was suddenly considered a “Professora” to the community. Not to mention.. I am apparently the “Economista” that has come to help the pueblo.
In Nicaragua, I’ve realized how different the concept of business is here in comparison to the United States. For example, a week or two ago I was reading the newspaper here, La Prensa. In the business section, there was an article about Bimbo, the snack food company, who is coming out with two new snacks.. one is a cake filled with pineapple filling and dipped with chocolate. I mean, really think about it. What if Little Debbie’s new Zebra snack made it to the top of the business headlines in the States? There are really only a handful of large companies in Nicaragua. In my curriculum, the example of Tang is used as a successful business. Almost all of the businesses are run out of a spare room in people’s homes (micro businesses). Pulperias are little variety stores selling things like rice, beans, and soap and they are what you hear of most when talking of Nicaraguan businesses. It is common for neighbors to both have Pulperias and sell the exact same things.
This semester I am working with three different high schools. In my town I have 6 classes at the Instituto Chawlbinsky, 1 in the community of Urbaite, and 3 in the rural community of Balgüe. Balgüe turns out to be absolutely beautiful even though it is an uncomfortable hour bus ride each way down an unpaved, rocky road. I make the trek twice a week which I don’t mind in that the trip passes through the coast of Santo Domingo and past a stretch where you can see both volcanoes, one on each side. However, the bus often decides not to run or show up two hours late since many roads turn into rivers during the rainy season. On Tuesday I made the hour walk home from Urbaite and was thankful I had a touch of luck when after walking an hour and a half (also half way) on the way back from Balgüe the bus showed up.
I’m glad to have some structure to my schedule but am at the same time sad to be turning down interesting opportunities left and right simply due to a lack of time. Right now I’m just trying to meet as many people as possible including the woman that sells amazing cornbread on the school bus, the fritanga owner that has ceviche twice a week, and the women that wash clothes down by the shore of the beach that I’ve been running to in the mornings. While I know it is not Usher’s “Yeah”, I did dance the Zampopo the other night. It is the dance of the ant. You walk around lifting a branch into the air to symbolize a pack of ants. The town is very Catholic and so they were celebrating that years ago during an earthquake (and I think volcanic eruption) Saint San Diego appeared in the clouds. During fiestas patronales and during the months of October and November, the dance is done around the entire town every single night and often have a parade of drums at 4 o’clock in the morning. I think I’ll start saving up my sleep now. I have also tried my first guayaba and pitaya and have started to get used to the fact that we haven’t had water in the mornings since I’ve gotten here.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Felicidades
So big news all, I'm officially a volunteer now. We swore in yesterday and it has been an exciting couple of days. Thursday we went to the US embassy and met with Robert Downes the ambassador currently in place until the new one is found. A nice Texan man. Felt pretty official. I'll admit I experienced a touch of culture shock in the bathroom, it felt like we were back in the states.. an automatic flushing toilet?! The building looks and feels just like you are in DC.
Coming into the Peace Corps I knew of the legacy and that the program had been around for 50 years. In addition to Peace Corps being active for 50 years, the program in Nicaragua has been around for 30 years. This year has been an especially interesting year to swear in as a volunteer. I had no idea that we would be the ones that would actually be associated with the anniversary. My training class (Nica 56) was able to be a part the 50 year celebration. Looking back at all that has been accomplished is really motivating as I start my service.
After the ceremony, we were invited to the house of Daniel Ortega, the president! We had no idea what to expect, but we did have a discussion among the group guessing what types of food would be served. I mean come on, does the president of Nicaragua really eat gallo pinto three times a day? The guys hoped for ranchitos (the nica version of doritos). It turns out that he came in with his wife and proceeded to shake the hands of each and every one of us. I thought, impressive. He spoke with the project directors and head of the country program as well as returned volunteers and those that had extended their service beyond the 2 years. However, I almost lost it when I realized he called the name of the first volunteer that swore in. He was really going to go down the list of all 43 of our names! I'd expected a short stop in and chat but for him to talk one on one to each of us? Four hours later, Daniel Ortega called on me asked me where I'd be heading, my background, etc. Daniel's wife, Rosario, is known for her "style" with jewelry. I plugged Beads by Noelle just in case he needed an upcoming gift.
Eventful couple of days. Expect updates soon, I know I've slacked. I'm heading to the island tomorrow!
Coming into the Peace Corps I knew of the legacy and that the program had been around for 50 years. In addition to Peace Corps being active for 50 years, the program in Nicaragua has been around for 30 years. This year has been an especially interesting year to swear in as a volunteer. I had no idea that we would be the ones that would actually be associated with the anniversary. My training class (Nica 56) was able to be a part the 50 year celebration. Looking back at all that has been accomplished is really motivating as I start my service.
Eventful couple of days. Expect updates soon, I know I've slacked. I'm heading to the island tomorrow!
All the articles in Spanish but that is the beauty of google translator.
http://www.canal2.com.ni/verarticulos.php?idArticulo=7906&idArticulo1=Juramentan%20a%20voluntarios%20del%20Cuerpo%20de%20Paz&idArticulo2=29%20de%20Julio,%202011
My lady Vieve giving a speech on the program.
http://www.canal15.com.ni/noticia/30077
They filmed the whole meeting between us and somehow the article ended up about the ambassador issue.
http://www.canal15.com.ni/videos/29871
History of Peace Corps and Nicaragua as well as our swearing in.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Presto!
I came to Nicaragua with great expectations of coffee. I thought I’d leave an expert in the art of drinking black coffee. My activity of choice in Charleston was to go to one of my two favorite coffee shops, Hope & Union or Kudu. As I was getting ready for my trip, I would head to Hope & Union and my mouth would water over the tasting notes for the 5 or 6 fresh grinds of the day. I’ll go ahead and admit I was pretty “fachenta” (the local word for snobby) about my coffee back at home.
As nerdy as it sounds, my favorite thing to do in a new Nica city is browse the grocery store. I don’t even want to admit how much time I spent in La Colonia in Chinandega just dreaming for the days I’d be able to cook for myself and trying to think of ways to get creative with such a limited selection. Fast forward to my third day in Nicaragua. I was really excited to go and check out the grocery store in Managua. It is called La Union, is one of the nicest grocery stores in the country, and just happens to be owned by Wal-Mart. Of course.
After perusing the produce section and checking out the spices or lack there of, I got to the coffee aisle. Instead of finding a variety of shade grown, fresh coffee I was blinded by the mustard yellow, okay we’ll call it gold, “Presto” bottles. So, that’s what they’ve got here- instant coffee. I was crushed. All of the good stuff is usually exported.
Apparently, Nicaraguans are very proud of Presto. They even sometimes send it back with returned volunteers. In a culture that prides itself in the amount of care that goes into making their products by hand, this was pretty surprising to me (think of the past post when I described what goes into making juices). Everyone makes their tortillas and bread from scratch.
Given this, why on earth would Nicaraguans be obsessed with instant coffee? I don’t think it is a matter of cost, because I honestly do think the coffee would be available if sought out. Maybe it is a matter of supply?
I think back to the emergence of TV dinners in the 1950’s. While the meatloaf might have tasted horrible and there were many kinks to sort out (I know I always hated that my chocolate pudding had to be hot in my Kid’s Cuisine), people loved them because they were a novelty. I think the “newness” of instant coffee is probably where the obsession comes from. However, this is only speculation and there might be a much better answer.
Many of you know that coffee is a necessity for me, but don’t worry about me just yet. I found out that the island of Ometepe (the island where I’ll be living) there is a coffee coop made up of 25 different families. If all goes well and I can do some side work with them, I’ll be happily caffeinated.
As nerdy as it sounds, my favorite thing to do in a new Nica city is browse the grocery store. I don’t even want to admit how much time I spent in La Colonia in Chinandega just dreaming for the days I’d be able to cook for myself and trying to think of ways to get creative with such a limited selection. Fast forward to my third day in Nicaragua. I was really excited to go and check out the grocery store in Managua. It is called La Union, is one of the nicest grocery stores in the country, and just happens to be owned by Wal-Mart. Of course.
After perusing the produce section and checking out the spices or lack there of, I got to the coffee aisle. Instead of finding a variety of shade grown, fresh coffee I was blinded by the mustard yellow, okay we’ll call it gold, “Presto” bottles. So, that’s what they’ve got here- instant coffee. I was crushed. All of the good stuff is usually exported.
Apparently, Nicaraguans are very proud of Presto. They even sometimes send it back with returned volunteers. In a culture that prides itself in the amount of care that goes into making their products by hand, this was pretty surprising to me (think of the past post when I described what goes into making juices). Everyone makes their tortillas and bread from scratch.
Given this, why on earth would Nicaraguans be obsessed with instant coffee? I don’t think it is a matter of cost, because I honestly do think the coffee would be available if sought out. Maybe it is a matter of supply?
I think back to the emergence of TV dinners in the 1950’s. While the meatloaf might have tasted horrible and there were many kinks to sort out (I know I always hated that my chocolate pudding had to be hot in my Kid’s Cuisine), people loved them because they were a novelty. I think the “newness” of instant coffee is probably where the obsession comes from. However, this is only speculation and there might be a much better answer.
Many of you know that coffee is a necessity for me, but don’t worry about me just yet. I found out that the island of Ometepe (the island where I’ll be living) there is a coffee coop made up of 25 different families. If all goes well and I can do some side work with them, I’ll be happily caffeinated.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
If you were stuck on an island..
If you were stuck on an island for two years what is the one thing you would bring?
In the past I would have had very different answers, but after (almost) a month and a half in Nicaragua, I have to confess it would be my headlamp. I apologize sincerely to all of those who I might have poked fun of in the past. After both the late night latrine visits and frequent power outages I’m a believer.
Really though, I am going to be living on the Island of Ometepe for two years! I’m still honestly in a bit of a shock, I never ever imagined that is where I’d be, but I am warming up to the idea.
The island of Ometepe is usually the classic vista you imagine when you think of Nicaragua. It’s a large island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua which is the largest fresh water lake in the Americas. It holds more than 500 different island. Two large volcanoes are located in the middle of the island.. one is dormant, one not so much.. Apparently the island has landed on the shortlist for the new seven natural wonders of the world.
I’ll be in the small town of Altagracia on the Volcán Concepción side which is less developed. It’s the original indigenous capital of Ometepe with a population of 2500 in the immediate town.
I’ll be visiting the site to meet the teachers I’ll be working with this next week, and I’ll come back with a full report after or send a message in a bottle to keep you updated.
In the mean time, some light reading material..
http://vianica.com/nicaragua/ometepe
http://www.ometepenicaragua.com/altagracia/index.php
In the past I would have had very different answers, but after (almost) a month and a half in Nicaragua, I have to confess it would be my headlamp. I apologize sincerely to all of those who I might have poked fun of in the past. After both the late night latrine visits and frequent power outages I’m a believer.
Really though, I am going to be living on the Island of Ometepe for two years! I’m still honestly in a bit of a shock, I never ever imagined that is where I’d be, but I am warming up to the idea.
The island of Ometepe is usually the classic vista you imagine when you think of Nicaragua. It’s a large island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua which is the largest fresh water lake in the Americas. It holds more than 500 different island. Two large volcanoes are located in the middle of the island.. one is dormant, one not so much.. Apparently the island has landed on the shortlist for the new seven natural wonders of the world.
I’ll be in the small town of Altagracia on the Volcán Concepción side which is less developed. It’s the original indigenous capital of Ometepe with a population of 2500 in the immediate town.
I’ll be visiting the site to meet the teachers I’ll be working with this next week, and I’ll come back with a full report after or send a message in a bottle to keep you updated.
In the mean time, some light reading material..
http://vianica.com/nicaragua/ometepe
http://www.ometepenicaragua.com/altagracia/index.php
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Pocos Photos
Estrellita, my neighbor
another glamor shot
These are actually parasites that grow on the power lines but look like birds nests.
The brown part is a cashew nut, but you can also eat the fruit. All of this for one nut!
Mountain of Avocados
Sandinista Office
This was a Hipica in Masatepe. Each town has its Fiesta Patronale which often means a horse parade with drunk riders and often drunk horses unfortunately. This fine chica was an exception.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Does this work?
https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=1932c38dbc&view=att&th=13095be5c3aad50d&attid=0.1&disp=safe&realattid=2e9c85c663ef5787_0.1&zw
This is a link (I hope it works) to Va Pue the newsletter put out by Nica volunteers. If anyone wants to know more about Laurel's house, she wrote a great article on the benefits of plastic bottle structures. If it doesn't work let me know and I'll find a way to get it up.
This is a link (I hope it works) to Va Pue the newsletter put out by Nica volunteers. If anyone wants to know more about Laurel's house, she wrote a great article on the benefits of plastic bottle structures. If it doesn't work let me know and I'll find a way to get it up.
The Harvest
Last week I traveled up to the small town of Tonalá, Chinandega for my volunteer visit. I was able to see what volunteer life is actually like.. training at times can feel a bit like a bubble, but I guess that’s why they call it training. I had the pleasure of staying with a volunteer named Laurel who built her own house out of plastic bottles! I know it’s crazy!
As a business volunteer, we will be teaching Entrepreneurship classes in public high schools. In addition to teaching in the immediate area, most volunteers also travel to very rural areas. On the way to the institute in Puerto Morazan the bus ride was bumpy but beautiful (they have one paved road in the area which was completed two years ago). Once in Puerto Morazan, we had to cross a bridge which just so happened to be out for the week. So, in Peace Corps fashion, we decided to scale the bridge to find half way through that they started painting the bridge. Walking through the village with green hands and feeling accomplished, we arrived at the school to find that many of the teachers hadn’t even showed up for class that day. If anything, this trip taught me about the importance of patience.
From the school, we walked about a mile and a half to a local shrimp cooperative made up of 16 women that was started about 20 years ago. For some reason, in my mind I’d always pictured a dark factory with dirty pools containing shrimp, and I’m not sure exactly where this image came from. However, I found serene “pilas” set amongst a backdrop of of volcanoes, greenery, and grass huts. So much care was taken in ensuring that the environment was natural and kept as clean as possible. I know that if I was a shrimp, I’d like to live there.
The co-op, along with 5 others, is currently under contract with a large Spanish seafood company, and there seem to be a number of other seafood processing companies in Chinandega. Laurel is working with the women as one of her secondary projects. They are creating a business plan so that they will at some point be able to be independent.
Lucky for me during my stay they were planning on harvesting the shrimp. We headed out (scaled the bridge again) and watched the harvest from 6 p.m. until 2:30 in the morning. We sat in silence amazed and watching every second. There was something really genuine about the process from the six light bulbs hanging on a string to provide light to the sound of the shrimp jumping inside the red plastic crates. During their eight and a half hours of work, the workers took one break for a piece of bread and cup of instant coffee. They would harvest for two more nights until the pilas were drained.
I’m trying to describe every detail because my camera (of course) quit working the same day. If only I could paint more than stick figures or blobs. My Dad had a “moose moment” when we were on a trip out west years ago. To this day he still regrets not having a camera. This might have to be my “moose moment”.
Following the conclusion of the harvest for the night, we made our way down stream in the pitch black. After dropping off the giant turquoise containers packed with ice and shrimp to the processing plant, we hitched a ride on a truck, and finally found ourselves hiking home from the front of town.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Culture Shock
Lately, I’ve noticed that I’m confused pretty much all the time. This is due, partly, to the fact that I don’t speak great Spanish (yet) but gradually I’ve become confused even in my English conversations. Arriving in country, I thought I had almost everything figured out. I knew what my role should and shouldn’t be in my host community. But, I find myself forming a new opinion on something every day. While I know this means I am learning a lot, it makes things especially confusing.
Two weeks into training, my Honeymoon phase with Nicaragua began to disintegrate. I was having a hard time feeling any connection with either my host family or community. Because I was having a hard time, I gave myself an even harder of a time. Was it the bacterial infection I contracted from eating ceviche in the park? Besides being physically ill, I was emotionally exhausted. Why was I having these feelings? I am living in Nicaragua, this is a dream.
Later in the week, I found Dr. Oberg’s article, “Culture Shock and the Problem of Adjustment to New Cultural Environments”. I found myself fitting the description. In the months leading up to my departure, I would casually skip over anything remotely mentioning culture shock. My reasoning?I’ve traveled to third world- I’m open-minded. I won’t have to deal with culture shock. That only happens to close minded people.
Yeah, I visited third world. During these trips, I felt that I identified with the culture, but I realize now that I always knew deep down I’d be able to leave it behind in a matter of days or weeks. While these experiences were emotionally stimulating, I remained in my safe bubble. In my experience in Nicaragua, however, I am unable to separate myself from the community, because I realize that this is a reality for the people of this community. This is their life. In fact, I am expected to become part of this community to get anything done.
At the same time I started feeling pangs of cultural rift, I began to hear common stereotypes of Americans. Thinking of myself as anything but a typical American these descriptions of the pushy, consuming, results driven American appalled me. I soon found that my culture shock came less from the revelation of Nicaraguan culture but the realization of how engrained my own culture is in me. While everyone tells me different, there are some things I think I’ll never get over here. It breaks my heart that the entire town smells of smoke at all times because everyone burns their trash and I will never enjoy eating rice sandwiches.
I, humbly, post this because I think it’s a very real part of this whole experience and something future volunteers should be prepared for. I also believe that it will most likely be one of my biggest challenges over the next two years. Pero, Estoy accustumbrado.. But, I’m getting accustomed.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Nica Time
Upon arrival in Nicaragua, I expected to learn more about “Nica Time”. I anticipated this to mean that often people would show up to meetings 30 minutes late. Yes, this is sort of true? After splurging our miniscule Peace Corps budget to buy oreos and Fanta for our first youth group meeting, we found ourselves twiddling our thumbs for an hour waiting for someone, anyone to show up. And thinking we’d gotten ourselves out of our first meeting we felt completely unprepared for, sure enough everyone floated in an hour late.
I’ve never been one to arrive on time myself, and I’m usually okay with a late start. But, apparently, “Nica Time” also means that your Spanish classes run over an hour and a half almost every day?
Nicas do have a unique sense of time as I came to realize this past week. I have been amazed at how much Nicaraguans accomplish in a single day, especially in terms of the role women play. For example, my mother has the most beautiful orno (or wood fired oven) in the backyard. I had heard her say that she would be making bread the next morning, but I woke up to the table covered in mounds of all sorts of fresh bread which she had made before six o’clock in the morning!
Another example, Nicaraguans are known for their frescos which are basically fresh fruit juices. I learn of a new fruit almost every day.. that is always used in a fresco with way too much sugar as opposed to eaten. You almost always have a different fresco with lunch if not for breakfast also. As I stated before, my family has so many mangoes that they don’t know what to do with them, and the town is dripping with mangoes so no one can sell them. Por eso, we make lots of mango frescos and I learned how to make it this last week. To make a fresco we picked 28 mangoes from the ground, peeled and chopped them all. Many of you know that cutting a mango is not the easiest thing but by this point I’ve pretty much learned the art, and my mother has no problem correcting the way I cut mangoes. Then, after cutting the mangoes you cook them for an hour and hand strain the fruit through a sieve that has a big tear in it. Now, after all of this work you have fresco for two meals worth for the family.
The drinks are amazing in Nicaragua. Another great one my family introduced me to is Espinollio which is milk with cocoa and corn. It’s kind of like a gritty but tasty hot chocolate. First, my mother picked all of the seeds and roasted the corn and cocoa enough to fill a 5 gallon bucket. Then, my host brother, sister and I carried into town to a mill where by hand it was run through the machine 4 times to get the perfect grind. I was amazed that just the grinding took about 45 minutes, and then we carried it home.
It’s refreshing to see that it is important for Nicas to spend the time making these things, and it’s obvious they take a lot of pride in the quality of their products. While many perceive Latin Americans as having a slower pace of life. I feel it is not that they are doing less, it seems that more time is given to these daily tasks. However, as I start to work with businesses I’m sure I’ll see what by US standards as “inefficient” and may be singing a different tune when I realize how long it will take to implement change.
On another note of time, Nicas love, I mean love fireworks. Apparently, I learned the other day that someone shoots off fireworks to signify the morning, afternoon, and evening each day. In Nandasmo, fireworks might as well serve as the clock tower. All week I was excited to go to Rosario on Sunday evening, my only day off, and had been looking forward to exploring the town over with my family. Unfortunately, I later found that my Spanish had once again failed me and we were heading to the neighbor’s house to some sort of Catholic ceremony. Whoops. Speaking of time again, the priest shot off fireworks in the middle of the front patio to proclaim the start and end of the ceremony. I never thought fireworks would also come to mean “Nica Time”. On a side note, I had no idea why there were so many kids at the service- I mean 4-5 kids to one adult. Apparently, they all got barbie dolls, other toys, and cups of candy for showing up. Nandasmo, such a special place, is particularly religious so there are lots of fireworks all the time.
Funniest thing I ate this past week:
I asked to eat just fruit for breakfast, because they have so much in the backyard including the loveliest mini bananas and rarely just eat the fruit. So, my mom decided to cut up fresh mangoes and served the bananas cut up and mixed with mayonnaise to be eaten on white bread. No wonder they just consume the fruit in frescos.
I’ve never been one to arrive on time myself, and I’m usually okay with a late start. But, apparently, “Nica Time” also means that your Spanish classes run over an hour and a half almost every day?
Nicas do have a unique sense of time as I came to realize this past week. I have been amazed at how much Nicaraguans accomplish in a single day, especially in terms of the role women play. For example, my mother has the most beautiful orno (or wood fired oven) in the backyard. I had heard her say that she would be making bread the next morning, but I woke up to the table covered in mounds of all sorts of fresh bread which she had made before six o’clock in the morning!
 |
| My Mom's Bread |
Another example, Nicaraguans are known for their frescos which are basically fresh fruit juices. I learn of a new fruit almost every day.. that is always used in a fresco with way too much sugar as opposed to eaten. You almost always have a different fresco with lunch if not for breakfast also. As I stated before, my family has so many mangoes that they don’t know what to do with them, and the town is dripping with mangoes so no one can sell them. Por eso, we make lots of mango frescos and I learned how to make it this last week. To make a fresco we picked 28 mangoes from the ground, peeled and chopped them all. Many of you know that cutting a mango is not the easiest thing but by this point I’ve pretty much learned the art, and my mother has no problem correcting the way I cut mangoes. Then, after cutting the mangoes you cook them for an hour and hand strain the fruit through a sieve that has a big tear in it. Now, after all of this work you have fresco for two meals worth for the family.
The drinks are amazing in Nicaragua. Another great one my family introduced me to is Espinollio which is milk with cocoa and corn. It’s kind of like a gritty but tasty hot chocolate. First, my mother picked all of the seeds and roasted the corn and cocoa enough to fill a 5 gallon bucket. Then, my host brother, sister and I carried into town to a mill where by hand it was run through the machine 4 times to get the perfect grind. I was amazed that just the grinding took about 45 minutes, and then we carried it home.
It’s refreshing to see that it is important for Nicas to spend the time making these things, and it’s obvious they take a lot of pride in the quality of their products. While many perceive Latin Americans as having a slower pace of life. I feel it is not that they are doing less, it seems that more time is given to these daily tasks. However, as I start to work with businesses I’m sure I’ll see what by US standards as “inefficient” and may be singing a different tune when I realize how long it will take to implement change.
On another note of time, Nicas love, I mean love fireworks. Apparently, I learned the other day that someone shoots off fireworks to signify the morning, afternoon, and evening each day. In Nandasmo, fireworks might as well serve as the clock tower. All week I was excited to go to Rosario on Sunday evening, my only day off, and had been looking forward to exploring the town over with my family. Unfortunately, I later found that my Spanish had once again failed me and we were heading to the neighbor’s house to some sort of Catholic ceremony. Whoops. Speaking of time again, the priest shot off fireworks in the middle of the front patio to proclaim the start and end of the ceremony. I never thought fireworks would also come to mean “Nica Time”. On a side note, I had no idea why there were so many kids at the service- I mean 4-5 kids to one adult. Apparently, they all got barbie dolls, other toys, and cups of candy for showing up. Nandasmo, such a special place, is particularly religious so there are lots of fireworks all the time.
 | ||
| Notice the Fresco con cocoa typically consumed out of a plastic bag that you bite into. These were our presents for going to church. |
Funniest thing I ate this past week:
I asked to eat just fruit for breakfast, because they have so much in the backyard including the loveliest mini bananas and rarely just eat the fruit. So, my mom decided to cut up fresh mangoes and served the bananas cut up and mixed with mayonnaise to be eaten on white bread. No wonder they just consume the fruit in frescos.
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