The Sweetest Gift

Now that mango season is dying down, everyone in Nica is raving about jacotes (ha-ko-tay). The kids in our Cedro classes stuff them in their pockets, pulling down their pants. People on the street push them through our windows, trying to tempt us to buy them. Trouble is, we know better: jacotes just aren't any good. They're super sour and the salt Nicas douse them in just serves to pucker your mouth more. I honestly don't understand the allure, but chalk it up to loving something because you grow up with it, kinda like Americans and peanut butter or Brits and Marmite.

That is, that's what I thought until two weeks ago. Natan Castro Romero is a sweet six year old boy with nystagmus, which causes him to rely on his peripheral vision, twisting his head to the left whenever he's excited. I spent two mornings with him and his mother driving from Chureca to Mascota, one of Managua's children's hospitals. There we waited in lines, got lost in corridors and argued with parking attendants only to walk away with an appointment with an ophthalmologist... in June. You see, in Nicaragua you wait in line just to get an appointment, where you get to wait in line again. By the end of the second day, I was exhausted, frustrated and disappointed, apologizing to Natan's mom because we weren't able to see a doctor. Instead of complaining or commiserating, she thanked me.

Later, when I stopped for gas, she ran to a street vendor. After a few minutes, she came back with her arms full of jacotes, one bag for each of us. It's the first time anyone in Chureca has given me anything. As we rode back to Chureca, I listened to Natan jabbering about the colors of the buses and buildings around us and sucked on my salty jacotes. And I gotta tell you, they tasted pretty good.

Holding Babies and Making Wishes

I keep postdating my blogs, trying to trick you that I've been writing bimonthly, but I'm going to stop that right now. You're all smart people and you deserve to know the truth: I'm a lousy blogger.

Ok, moving on...

I joke that I've become an expert in babies since coming to Nica. I've become quite good at judging whether to ask how many years or how many months the baby has (there is no direct Spanish translation for "how old are you?"). I can coo in Spanish and in English. I know that the little rock bracelets are to ward off the evil eye and that if a baby has the hiccups, all you need is a piece of red thread to put on their little foreheads. It may not all make sense, but it's life here and I love it.

Two babies in particular have stolen my heart for their own precious reasons. The first is brand-new. As I write, Tamara Murillo "has" 15 days and is the newest addition to one of the largest families in Cedro Galan, our rural community. Her grandmother has twelve children and Xiomara, Tamara's mom, is her youngest. Mama Murillo can't tell you how many grandchildren she has but I'm guessing she's rapidly approaching thirty (if she hasn't passed it already). Tessa and I visited all three generations of Murillo women on Friday, first to see how the new mom was faring (she's tired, but glowing), but also to introduce ourselves to our new teeny friend. Her feet are the size of my finger and she swam in the white dress her mom insisted on her wearing. We had our own little photo shoot in her family's dirt-floored house as these are the first pictures anyone has taken of the baby. She has so much promise... I can't wait to visit in the years ahead to see her running around dressed in her school uniform, her hair in pigtails.

The second baby is Manuel Antonio, one of our children in Chureca's child sponsorship program. He doesn't talk to gringos yet, but he has such dark, deep eyes that I know a lot of thoughts are churning in that little head. When he entered the program last August, he couldn't sit up on his own even though he was a year and a half old (he recently turned two). Now, with our program's help, he's gained enough strength not only to sit, but also to walk. However, last week his mom (who's younger than me) told me that because the people in Chureca are on strike (see my most recent post on the child sponsorship blog), she's been having a hard time finding the money to feed him and his little brother Ignacio. I'm scared that if the strike continues, the (literal) baby steps we've made with him will not be enough.

Right now I'm reading a great book called Cold Tangerines. The author believes that Jesus came to earth as a baby because "babies make us believe in the possibility and power of the future." Now, after just celebrating what that baby did as a grown man, I'd like to believe that, too, although sometimes it's hard to see through all the dirt and the smoke.

Love Notes to Nica Part 2: Surfing back into Nica

As many of you read the subject line, I suppose you expected to hear of gnarly waves I've caught or the sweet scar I got from a stingray. Those stories do exist, but they are of other MPI-Nica members. No, my friends, when I surf, it's down volcanoes.

The most active volcano in Central America, to be exact.

Since 1850, Cerro Negro ["black hill"] has had over 100 eruptions, the most recent in 1999. With a landscape consisting of dried lava, sand and rock, it takes about 2 hours to go up [taking into account my midgety legs and the 75 mph winds] and all of 10 minutes to go down. Through a mixture of running and sliding, you have one of the most unique sensations possible: surfing without water, board optional.

Once again, I've seen how snapshots of my life mirror the realities. The first six months, while truly incredible were also difficult and at times downright exhausting. Between learning how to be a teacher, gaining the trust of families in Chureca, and balancing living and working with the same people [not to mention my epic battle with Carl, the parasite], it often felt like an uphill climb. Now we are on top of the mountain, about to dive into the second half of our adventure which, as all things do, will end all too quickly. My prayer for myself and the rest of my Nica family is that we'll remember to look up while enjoying the ride.


Surf's up


Don't believe me? Check it out: http://www.vianica.com/go/specials/9-nicaragua-volcanoes.html