Love Notes to Nica, Pt. 1

i'm sure periodic updates will continue on this theme, so i'm going to just go ahead and start numbering...

on thursday of this week all organizations working in la chureca got together for a "reunion" where we discussed our missions, goals and target populations. it was so encouraging to see a room full of nica and american faces working together to improve the quality of life in such a difficult environment. my favorite line: the mind set should not be about pulling people out of the dirt, it should be about walking together hand-in-hand, because we are all people, which makes us all the same.

yesterday we woke up early to go to the beach for the morning. the rain pattering on our roof made us hesitate to the conditions we would find, but when the power went out we (meaning me) decided that Jesus wanted us to go. we weren't wrong. the rain cloud opened up long enough for us to spend 2 and a half glorious hours at quisala,
listening to music, catching up on reading and trying to surf (mainly in vain... but hey, life's a work in progress). as we drove home to get back to work, the rain started again, insuring that the day would be cool and our micro looked semi-clean.

we found a coffee shop that sells frappacinos for less than $3 (take that, starbucks). driving in lori's air-conditioned car, sipping my coffee on my way to shop, i felt like i had been transported back to the states. then i remembered that i was in a 1993 buick whose doors don't open from the inside, we were on our way to shop (for clothes) at a grocery store and a fair, and i was looking at a volcano rising above the city. my life is a dream.

besos y abrazos,

Two Stories this Week...

One funny and one bittersweet. Take your pick, or, if you dare, read both:

FUNNY:
As for my quest to get in shape here in Nicaragua, let me tell you about the "back walk" into the community. There's a total of about 300 yards that's paved and the rest is dirt. Upon entering the dirt "gate" (barbed wire attached to sticks), you pick up a stick to scare the angry dogs that oh so lovingly greet and follow you on the path (by the way, there are two breeds of dogs here: rottweiler and nica dog. rottweilers are for rich people to use as guard dogs and do not like dark people, nica dogs must show at least half their ribs at any given moment and do not like light people. prejudice even in dogs, but I digress...) Locals will point you in the right direction, part of which includes walking through a river bed (meaning this route is only safe when it hasn't rained) and up what I call the Hill of Death. Seriously, this thing is longer and steeper than the hill on Orleans to get to the Compound and it's all DIRT (the dog stick can be helpful here to pull your body up when your legs give out). The lesson of the walk is the road most traveled is not always the correct road. Matt and I had to turn around twice the first time* because we took the bigger path instead of finding the tiny tiny gap in between bobbed wire fences. Should have known to ask directions: we literally walked around two bulls blocking our paths, which turned out to be the wrong way. Don't ever say God doesn't send signs. Door to door, the walk should take thirty minutes. With my short legs, us getting lost and Matt stopping to take off his shirt, we got to the community in a swift 45. Awesome.

*Note* The last time we took this route, it was all the girls on the way to Women's Exercise. Trying to get warmed up, we started jogging down the hill before approaching the Hill of Death (yes, I capitalize it on purpose because it's that intimidating). Unfortunately, a boy told us to wait and we stood as 8 cows passed us and then proceeded up the Hill. That's right-- we climbed up the Hill looking at 8 cow butts. Needless to say, their pace was a little slower than we wanted. We got to class un-warmed up and smelling like cow. Did I mention that I live in Nicaragua?!


BITTERSWEET:
One thing I have learned is that joy can be found in things that seem small to most people. Case in point, one of my happiest memories so far came when I brushed Mercedes' hair for an hour. Her younger sister, Ileana, was one of the first kids I met in the dump. Manna (among others) has been working to get their family out for years now. Their parents and other siblings are now out of the dump, but Ileana and Mercedes, at 15 and 16, respectively, have decided to stay behind so they can work. It's the life they know.

Ok, that's the background. so Daniel, who is Dane's doppleganger (the kids really do think they're the same person!) and a friend went into la Chureca on Tuesday and found Mercedes. When they asked if they could take her to lunch, she said she couldn't because she was too dirty. They brought her to the Manna house so she could shower.

It had been so long since she had bathed that her hair was dreading. It took over an hour to do, but we got the knots out. I kept flashing back to when I was little and my mom used to comb my hair when I was sick. These were quite possibly some of the first loving touches Mercedes had had in a long time. Afterwards, we braided her hair and she gave me a hug. It was the first time since she had gotten to the house that she looked me in the eye. Something as simple as a shower and a brush and she had regained her dignity.

My sweet friends, I do not know what God has in store for us, but I know that His plans are good. He will only give us what we can handle and we are always cradled in His hand... no matter what part of the globe we may reside.

Someone just put on the Weepies. I guess our worlds aren't that far apart after all.

With all my love,

What's Black and Red all over? A sandinista on Dia Libre!

i want to preface this email to my mother and pseudo-mothers alike that I'm still alive and kicking, so don't start worrying.

that being said, i went to my first socialist rally-- sandinista, in fact-- last thursday and i can safely say that it was one of the most surreal events of my twenty-two years.

let me give you a little history: on july 19, 1980, the sandinistas, led by daniel ortega, overthrew somoza's infamous dictatorship, ending the bloody civil war. every year since then july 19 has been marked as "Dia Libre"-- loosely translated as freedom day. now don't get confused, this is not nicaragua's independence day... that comes in september when the nation commemorates its independence from spain (in case you haven't figured this out yet, nicas like to party and take whatever chance they can get to have a festival). dia libre is just the sandinista's opportunity to say "hey, look at the cool thing we did. oh, by the way, if we give you lots of booze, some flags and let you climb telephone poles, will you mind forgetting about the years of uncool things we did after that?"

this year, now that daniel ortega is back in power, the event was bigger than ever and included a fiery speech by venezuela's hugo chavez. that, in addition to the cuban flags and chanting of propaganda songs, reminded me that i'm not in kansas anymore. well, that and the thousands of red and black clad nicas shouting "viva sandino!"

the highlights of our day included boarding a bus boasting a sandinista flag in each window in which the passengers passed around shots of ron plata (the cheapest rum you can buy here), watching numerous human pyramids fall when the tops got a little over zealous with their flags and standing on my tiptoes (with a kid on my hips, as always) to see some authentic nicaraguan dancing. we didn't stay for ortega's speech-- our nica hosts wanted to leave before it got dark-- but i hear it's the same every year so no biggie.

that's all i have for now... my bed is calling my name.

bendiciones

i'm here, i'm alive, and we FINALLY have light!

well... that is, we have light most of the time...

so begins my journey into all things Nica. We lose power every weekday from about 2-7pm, which, considering we´re in language school from 8-12, makes accessing the internet a bit of a challenge. despite that,i've found that there are lots of similarities to Nicaragua and the United States:

Starbucks:
coffee here is served black with lots of sugar. the preferable method of drinking said coffee consists of a baby on your lap with chickens at your feet. in between swatting flies away from the baby (who just doesn´t seem to care about anything) and sipping your coffee in a plastic tumbler, you learn that your host´s roof fell in two weeks ago so his family of five is currentally living in a lean-to.

Public Transportation:
in order to get around the hustle and bustle that is managua, most people rely on buses (pronounced boo-ses). sent from the states about 15 years ago (not kidding, i saw one from chattanooga two days ago), these diesel-spewing mammoths can hold about 75 people at a time and are decorated to the driver´s taste, usually with colorful tape and pictures of saints (and the occasional truck-flap girl). every now and then, the driver will take note of the gringos´ blank expressions and change the music on the speakers from salsa and regaeton to your favorite 80´s hits.

Internet Cafes:
in order to access the web when we do have power, you simply walk about two blocks into one of your neighbor's houses. there in the front room, you can use one of five computers for just over a dollar US an hour. while you check your mail, their dog willie licks your feet. if you´re thirsty, you can buy a beer or a coca (coke). additionally, if it´s the weekend, you can even buy some chicken or a nacatamale. they think of everything.

Shopping:
while there are several american-like malls here in the capital, the real heart of nicaraguan commerce is in the mercado. there you can barter for freshly made tortillas or a light switch. vendor invites you into his stall, which looks suspiciously similar to his neighbors'. street kids ask for money (in english) but are happy if you give them food. the grandaddy of all mercados is the oriental, whose stalls spill out into the street in all directions. we haven´t visited yet because our language school says it´s too dangerous for gringos like us. guess i´ll just have to use my favorite disguise-- brown hair dye (that´s right, mom, be afraid).

Food:
remember in pre-school when you dressed up like a pilgrim for thanksgiving and your teacher told you all the ways the native americans used corn? evidentally, your teacher never met a nica. from drinks (yes drinks) to breads to soups to dessert, corn-based products are everywhere. some are really good; some are lamentable... you have to taste to find out. oh, and they also eat it on the cob all day long.

however, if you want something a little more like home, look no further than tip-top. like kfc, tip-top specializes in many varieties of fried chicken (although, as one manna member pointed out, tip-top has taken the ¨fast¨out of ¨fast food¨). i get the kiddie meal, which comes with a surprise. i could also get a beer with the kiddie meal if i wanted... gotta love latin america.

so goes my first week here in nicaragua. thanks so much to everyone who´s sent me love and blessings. it´s still surreal that i´m living in another country, although i´ll never fully leave my life in the states... case in point, i now have to write an essay for med school apps. bleck.

besos y abrazos