I’m coming up on the year 1 mark of my experience as a Jesuit Volunteer here in Nicaragua-time is flying! To finish up the first year, JVC put on a retreat for us this past week. Those of us returning for our second year were “re-oriented” and those getting ready to leave Nicaragua in a few short weeks, after finishing up their two years here, were “dis-oriented.” We went to a small rural community in the mountains of Esteli, one of the Northern departments of Nicaragua. As part of the retreat, we spent one day in silence, taking the opportunity to reflect on the past year’s experiences and to listen to the wind and the sounds of the campo, far from the noise and distractions of everyday life in Managua. Much of the day was free time to spend as we felt we most needed, so I followed my natural instinct to climb up to a ridge above the community with a sweeping view of the countryside for miles around. I wrote a short description of what I could see while I was there:
I’ve climbed up on the ridge to the east of La Garnacha and the view is unreal. I bushwacked through some woods and cow pastures to get here, and it’s well worth the climb. We travel to the high places in search of aliveness (Ken Bunker). To the northwest I can make out some volcanoes in either Honduras or El Salvador (not sure which, gonna have to look at a map). Not far to the south of those is the gentle slope of Cosiguina, whose magnificent crater I gazed into nearly a year ago. Further down the range lies San Cristobal, the tallest of Nicaragua’s volcanoes. Not much farther is Telica, followed by the perfect cone of Momotombo. Nearly all of Xolotlan [Lake Managua] is in view, and incredibly I can make out the faint outline of Mombacho [Wrong! I later identified this as Volcan Masaya, to the south of Managua]. Below me lies the village of La Garnacha, a scattering of rooftops among a forest of pines. At the base of the ridge lie cow pastures divided by fences, and there is a patch of fertile land with a single campesino bending down, weeding or planting, a sombrero keeping the sun off his head. Now he stands up, stretching, oblivious to the fact that I watch his movements from hundreds of feet above. Birds call, the wind murmurs in the trees, a toy-sized truck rumbles along the dirt road far below. I hear the occasional bark of a dog or chop of an axe from the village and the frequent crowing of a distant rooster. Moments like there are the ones I must hold on to when I leave Nicaragua, and more immediately when I return to the challenges of work and community living in Managua. This is a reminder, a reassurance that this all feels so right.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
A Visit to the Campo
Last week was Nicaragua Independence Day (there are actually two days celebrated, the 14th and the 15th), and since there was no work, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and head out of the city for a few days. My friend Jaime is from the Northern region of Matagalpa, one of Nicaragua’s biggest-and poorest-departments. He’d been inviting me to come visit his community for several months now, so my JV community mate Thomas and I decided to take him up on the offer and head up there for a few days. It ended up being an eye-opening and unforgettable trip for me; I’ll try and share a few of the highlights.
Jaime is one of 14 children! I thought my dad came from a big family but this was something else…especially because while we were there visiting, 13 of the kids were home, plus the parents, plus both of us guests! That made for a crowded house. And to make things even more interesting, Jaime’s family lives in a tiny house, effectively three rooms with an attached kitchen. Their hospitality was practically embarrassing, especially when they insisted on each of us using a bed-where all those kids ended up beats me!
I have to back up though and fill you in on our arrival in style. We had traveled most of the day Saturday and met up with Jaime in the city of Matagalpa. From there we took another bus several hours deeper into the mountains. We got off several hours later at the end of the bus line, long after dark and with a light drizzle coming down. Jaime mentioned that there was a “small river” that we would have to cross to get to his house. We were all for the adventure though, so we pulled out our flashlights and stumbled down the muddy path following our trusted guide. As we neared the bottom, I began to hear what sounded like quite a formidable river, and when we got to the bank I shined my headlamp out to see it was not the little creek Jaime made it out to be! No, this baby was at least a good twenty yards across, nearly the size of the Hood River (for those of you who can imagine that). I just stopped in shock and started wondering if this was really safe. Wasn’t there another way to get to his house? Apparently not.
I hiked up my shorts and backup, took my shoes off and followed Jaime into the dark waters. It ended up coming up to my hips and there was no real danger, but with the rain, in the dark, and never having seen the place before, it was a bit of an adrenaline rush. We came onto a small sandbar on the far side where Jaime’s mom had come down to meet us. After introductions, we stumbled up another muddy path in the dark before finally arriving to the small house.
We were getting a true taste of the campo lifestyle; Jaime’s family does have electricity (and the main form of entertainment after the sun goes down is the television which is also used as a stereo), but there’s no running water. Since their farm is next to the river though, bathing is easily down at the water’s edge. We spent a good part of the first day we were there messing around in a small swimming hole downstream from the house with Jaime and his siblings.
Throughout the several days of visiting, one of the most notable experiences for me was seeing the process of where food comes from and how it’s prepared in the campo. Nearly everything I ate during my visit was produced on the several acres Jaime’s family lived on. There’s a popular folk song here in Nicaragua called “Hijos del Maiz” (Children of the Corn); never has it seemed more appropriate to me. Traditional Nicaraguan food is often corn based, and a good part of the day revolves around harvesting, cooking, or eating corn in one form or another. I was fascinated by seeing the process from corn drying on the cobs all the way to tortilla on my plate. In between, I helped peel the corn kernels from the cob, watched as a giant cauldron of kernels were boiled, ground the cooked kernels into maza and finally watched as the maza was pounded out into round tortillas and cooked over the open wood fire.
As Jesuit Volunteers, one of our core values is to live a life of simplicity. I do think with relation to how the dominant U.S. culture tells us we should live, we live a pretty simple life. A few days in the campo though was an eye-opening reminder of how simply millions of the rural poor live around the world. With little more than the basic necessities of food, water, shelter and love, campesinos find a way to get by day to day, harvest to harvest. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to the next opportunity I get to visit Jaime and family again.
Jaime is one of 14 children! I thought my dad came from a big family but this was something else…especially because while we were there visiting, 13 of the kids were home, plus the parents, plus both of us guests! That made for a crowded house. And to make things even more interesting, Jaime’s family lives in a tiny house, effectively three rooms with an attached kitchen. Their hospitality was practically embarrassing, especially when they insisted on each of us using a bed-where all those kids ended up beats me!
I have to back up though and fill you in on our arrival in style. We had traveled most of the day Saturday and met up with Jaime in the city of Matagalpa. From there we took another bus several hours deeper into the mountains. We got off several hours later at the end of the bus line, long after dark and with a light drizzle coming down. Jaime mentioned that there was a “small river” that we would have to cross to get to his house. We were all for the adventure though, so we pulled out our flashlights and stumbled down the muddy path following our trusted guide. As we neared the bottom, I began to hear what sounded like quite a formidable river, and when we got to the bank I shined my headlamp out to see it was not the little creek Jaime made it out to be! No, this baby was at least a good twenty yards across, nearly the size of the Hood River (for those of you who can imagine that). I just stopped in shock and started wondering if this was really safe. Wasn’t there another way to get to his house? Apparently not.
I hiked up my shorts and backup, took my shoes off and followed Jaime into the dark waters. It ended up coming up to my hips and there was no real danger, but with the rain, in the dark, and never having seen the place before, it was a bit of an adrenaline rush. We came onto a small sandbar on the far side where Jaime’s mom had come down to meet us. After introductions, we stumbled up another muddy path in the dark before finally arriving to the small house.
We were getting a true taste of the campo lifestyle; Jaime’s family does have electricity (and the main form of entertainment after the sun goes down is the television which is also used as a stereo), but there’s no running water. Since their farm is next to the river though, bathing is easily down at the water’s edge. We spent a good part of the first day we were there messing around in a small swimming hole downstream from the house with Jaime and his siblings.
Throughout the several days of visiting, one of the most notable experiences for me was seeing the process of where food comes from and how it’s prepared in the campo. Nearly everything I ate during my visit was produced on the several acres Jaime’s family lived on. There’s a popular folk song here in Nicaragua called “Hijos del Maiz” (Children of the Corn); never has it seemed more appropriate to me. Traditional Nicaraguan food is often corn based, and a good part of the day revolves around harvesting, cooking, or eating corn in one form or another. I was fascinated by seeing the process from corn drying on the cobs all the way to tortilla on my plate. In between, I helped peel the corn kernels from the cob, watched as a giant cauldron of kernels were boiled, ground the cooked kernels into maza and finally watched as the maza was pounded out into round tortillas and cooked over the open wood fire.
As Jesuit Volunteers, one of our core values is to live a life of simplicity. I do think with relation to how the dominant U.S. culture tells us we should live, we live a pretty simple life. A few days in the campo though was an eye-opening reminder of how simply millions of the rural poor live around the world. With little more than the basic necessities of food, water, shelter and love, campesinos find a way to get by day to day, harvest to harvest. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to the next opportunity I get to visit Jaime and family again.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
19 de Julio
This past week was the anniversary of one of Nicaragua’s most significant moments. On July 19, 1979, the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN) entered Managua after kicking out the Somoza dictatorship following years of armed struggle. The Sandinista guerillas were hailed as liberators and given a heroes’ welcome upon arriving to the capital city where thousands greeted them with a massive celebration in the plaza near Managua’s old cathedral. Well, 31 years later that party still continues!
After a 16 year hiatus (1990-2006), the Sandinista party is now in power again. Regardless of opinions of the current brand of Sandinismo, thousands of Nicaraguans from all over the country turn out to celebrate the anniversary of the Revolution. As this event is in memory of such an influential moment in Nicaraguan history, I decided to join some friends to see what all the excitement was about. There was a slight problem though; on the eve of the 19th, we found ourselves hours from Managua, in a small mountain village in the department of Madriz in the north of Nicaragua. I had gone out of town for the weekend with some friends to get some fresh mountain air, cool weather, and just get out of the city for a few days. It was well over six hours by bus to get back to the capital, and as we found out, there would be no public transportation on the 19th! All the buses were being hired by the government to bring people from around the country to the celebration in Managua. Options were to stay in Madriz an extra day and wait for the buses to return to normal schedule, or to try and find a ride to Managua on the 19th one way or another! We all had to work on Tuesday the 20th, so we decided to ask around town and see if there’d be a way to catch a ride. As it turned out, we talked with the people organizing the buses going to the plaza and they said if we were there ready to go at 4 am they’d be happy to have us come along! What luck!
We got up at 3:30 in the morning after a few fitful hours of sleep (people were already celebrating with fireworks and singing on the streets throughout the night) and made our way to the bus stop. I think everyone in the small town we were visiting knew everyone else, so we got a few strange looks as we climbed on the bus, but after chatting a bit with our fellow travelers we felt right at home. The whole trip to Managua was an unforgettable experience. The small town we left from sent four buses, but this was just one little mountain hamlet. There were buses carrying people in from all over the country! All the buses from the northern departments met up and caravanned together. This meant that there were literally hundreds of buses traveling together towards Managua. We would pull over for pit stops and I could look as far up the line and as far back as I could see and the line just went on and on! There were people riding on top of buses, packed to standing room only inside, and even some hanging off the back as we made our way south. People along the way were out in front of their houses watching the parade go by and waving; I didn’t have to try to hard to take myself back 31 years and imagine what it must have been like for Nicaraguans in July 1979.
When we finally made it to the plaza, I was overwhelmed with the number of people present. We walked around taking in the crowds and finally found a relatively quiet place in front of the old cathedral. We took a seat and just watched the people passing and the fireworks going off. I chatted with one man who told me he had fought in the insurrection in the late 70’s. “I helped liberate this country,” he said, tears nearly coming to his eyes. He also criticized the current government for losing the spirit of the Revolution of the 1980’s. The whole celebration was clearly a big Sandinista event, though, so I asked him what he was doing celebrating there if he didn’t agree with the way things are going. “Look,” he told me, “you don’t have to be Sandinista to celebrate “El Triunfo.” I’m not here to support the president, I am here to remember the struggle and the victory we achieved as a country. Anyone can celebrate that.” I liked what he had to say and I wished him well before we split ways.
Going to the plaza was worthwhile for me to see a bit of such an historic moment in Nicaragua. While it felt to me in many ways like a political event for the Sandinista government, it was also eye-opening to see so many Nicaraguans from all over the nation together to remember one of their countries most defining moments. And to cap it off, we scored a free ride from Madriz to Managua thanks to the celebration, so it was well worth our while to check it out!
After a 16 year hiatus (1990-2006), the Sandinista party is now in power again. Regardless of opinions of the current brand of Sandinismo, thousands of Nicaraguans from all over the country turn out to celebrate the anniversary of the Revolution. As this event is in memory of such an influential moment in Nicaraguan history, I decided to join some friends to see what all the excitement was about. There was a slight problem though; on the eve of the 19th, we found ourselves hours from Managua, in a small mountain village in the department of Madriz in the north of Nicaragua. I had gone out of town for the weekend with some friends to get some fresh mountain air, cool weather, and just get out of the city for a few days. It was well over six hours by bus to get back to the capital, and as we found out, there would be no public transportation on the 19th! All the buses were being hired by the government to bring people from around the country to the celebration in Managua. Options were to stay in Madriz an extra day and wait for the buses to return to normal schedule, or to try and find a ride to Managua on the 19th one way or another! We all had to work on Tuesday the 20th, so we decided to ask around town and see if there’d be a way to catch a ride. As it turned out, we talked with the people organizing the buses going to the plaza and they said if we were there ready to go at 4 am they’d be happy to have us come along! What luck!
We got up at 3:30 in the morning after a few fitful hours of sleep (people were already celebrating with fireworks and singing on the streets throughout the night) and made our way to the bus stop. I think everyone in the small town we were visiting knew everyone else, so we got a few strange looks as we climbed on the bus, but after chatting a bit with our fellow travelers we felt right at home. The whole trip to Managua was an unforgettable experience. The small town we left from sent four buses, but this was just one little mountain hamlet. There were buses carrying people in from all over the country! All the buses from the northern departments met up and caravanned together. This meant that there were literally hundreds of buses traveling together towards Managua. We would pull over for pit stops and I could look as far up the line and as far back as I could see and the line just went on and on! There were people riding on top of buses, packed to standing room only inside, and even some hanging off the back as we made our way south. People along the way were out in front of their houses watching the parade go by and waving; I didn’t have to try to hard to take myself back 31 years and imagine what it must have been like for Nicaraguans in July 1979.
When we finally made it to the plaza, I was overwhelmed with the number of people present. We walked around taking in the crowds and finally found a relatively quiet place in front of the old cathedral. We took a seat and just watched the people passing and the fireworks going off. I chatted with one man who told me he had fought in the insurrection in the late 70’s. “I helped liberate this country,” he said, tears nearly coming to his eyes. He also criticized the current government for losing the spirit of the Revolution of the 1980’s. The whole celebration was clearly a big Sandinista event, though, so I asked him what he was doing celebrating there if he didn’t agree with the way things are going. “Look,” he told me, “you don’t have to be Sandinista to celebrate “El Triunfo.” I’m not here to support the president, I am here to remember the struggle and the victory we achieved as a country. Anyone can celebrate that.” I liked what he had to say and I wished him well before we split ways.
Going to the plaza was worthwhile for me to see a bit of such an historic moment in Nicaragua. While it felt to me in many ways like a political event for the Sandinista government, it was also eye-opening to see so many Nicaraguans from all over the nation together to remember one of their countries most defining moments. And to cap it off, we scored a free ride from Madriz to Managua thanks to the celebration, so it was well worth our while to check it out!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
An overdue update...
We’re well into the rainy season here in Nicaragua, which for me has been a refreshing breath of sometimes cooler air and a little taste of home. It still can get scorching hot in Managua, but at least there’s something to cool down the day and keep the dust down. It seems like the general pattern is still sun and heat most of the morning with high levels of humidity, and then it just gets to a certain point where the humidity is so bad and something has to give, so we get drenched with a good old tropical downpour! And although I grew up with my fair share of rain in the Pacific Northwest, that was a completely different experience from what we get here in Nicaragua. I’m used to days of cloudy weather with consistent drizzling, sometimes really pouring, but generally slow and steady. Here, like most of the tropics, we get ferocious, rapid downpours that often seem to come from nowhere, dump at a rate of several inches of rain per hour, which are often followed by hot, sunny weather just minutes after the rain stops! I am thoroughly enjoying the rainy season, though, and always look forward to the dark clouds that bring cooler temperatures. One of my simple pleasures living in Managua has become going to sleep with the sound of rain falling on our tin roof; it’s almost like living by a creek or by the ocean where you can fall asleep to the soothing sounds of moving water. Even if it’s just bouncing off the roof and going right to the gutter, there’s something reassuring about that consistent yet comforting clatter up there that helps me go to sleep in peace!
Enough about weather though. All continues to go well here in Nicaragua as I approach the seven month mark since arriving in country. I realize it’s been quite a while since I’ve written, so I apologize for the gap in updates! I guess I thought I had to have something really original or exciting to write about and was waiting for that to happen, but I guess just a simple update once in a while is better than nothing!
Work has gone fairly well recently, although I still feel sometimes as if there is more I could be doing. I’m trying to stay busy through coaching a soccer team, giving (very basic!) swim lessons, teaching English, and helping out with any other random activities that come up around the youth center. Last week we had our first “dia cultural” at the center as a way to start learning about other countries and cultures. We asked two French friends in town to give a talk about France, their language, food, sports (just days after France was eliminated from the World Cup, too!) and in general the differences between life in Nicaragua and in their home country. They gave a great slideshow, then we did a chaotic Jeopardy-style quiz game (50 people yelling at you saying they answered first!), taught a typical French playground game followed by crepe samples for everyone involved! The idea is to continue the cultural days, perhaps once a month, to learn about different cultures around the world.
Besides the work at the youth center, I’ve also been involved in some of the rural work CANTERA does. This has mostly meant working in schools doing what I would loosely define as environmental education work. It’s been an enjoyable experience though, especially trying to get kids and youth interested in environmental protection and talking about some of the environmental issues facing their community or the world.
To wrap it up, I have a brief reflection on an observation I’ve had of la vida Nica: I think it’s worth mentioning how important greetings are here in Nicaragua. I’ve picked up on this since the beginning of my time here, but only recently really begun to think about how significant and different this is from the culture I grew up in. For instance, Nicaraguans almost always greet everyone in a room upon entering, either individually or collectively as a group. This usually means a handshake or a cheek kiss for old friends or new acquaintances alike. Even if somebody enters a conversation or a meeting, he or she generally interjects at least a “Buenas tardes” to those present. To my North American-educated mind, this initially came off as extremely rude; I’d be having a conversation or even presenting some point in a workshop, and someone would walk in late with a public “Buenas!” distracting me and the rest of the group from whatever was being discussed. As time went on during my first few months here, I began to realize that this wasn’t just a group of inconsiderate youth, but in fact a great example of the beauty of cultural diversity.
After having been here several months, I myself have began to pick up on this Nicaraguan custom and I think I’m actually starting to appreciate it! I think the best thing I’ve taken from this new practice is the emphasis of greeting people individually when you come into contact with them. I think back to life in the States and the way I was often, like so many other North Americans, so preoccupied with my personal business that I didn’t have time or interest to grant other people a brief greeting. I have this image in my head of some fancy office with every busy in their own little cubicles hurriedly walking in and out, barely even making eye contact with those around them, too caught up in whatever it is that is too important to give anyone the time of day!
Anyhow, I’ve been working on learning from my Nicaraguan co-workers, friends and acquaintances to recognize that human relationships are worth taking a few seconds out of a busy schedule to make someone feel recognized. That’s all I’ve got for now! Until next time, happy 4th of July everyone, and thanks for all the support from near and far.
Enough about weather though. All continues to go well here in Nicaragua as I approach the seven month mark since arriving in country. I realize it’s been quite a while since I’ve written, so I apologize for the gap in updates! I guess I thought I had to have something really original or exciting to write about and was waiting for that to happen, but I guess just a simple update once in a while is better than nothing!
Work has gone fairly well recently, although I still feel sometimes as if there is more I could be doing. I’m trying to stay busy through coaching a soccer team, giving (very basic!) swim lessons, teaching English, and helping out with any other random activities that come up around the youth center. Last week we had our first “dia cultural” at the center as a way to start learning about other countries and cultures. We asked two French friends in town to give a talk about France, their language, food, sports (just days after France was eliminated from the World Cup, too!) and in general the differences between life in Nicaragua and in their home country. They gave a great slideshow, then we did a chaotic Jeopardy-style quiz game (50 people yelling at you saying they answered first!), taught a typical French playground game followed by crepe samples for everyone involved! The idea is to continue the cultural days, perhaps once a month, to learn about different cultures around the world.
Besides the work at the youth center, I’ve also been involved in some of the rural work CANTERA does. This has mostly meant working in schools doing what I would loosely define as environmental education work. It’s been an enjoyable experience though, especially trying to get kids and youth interested in environmental protection and talking about some of the environmental issues facing their community or the world.
To wrap it up, I have a brief reflection on an observation I’ve had of la vida Nica: I think it’s worth mentioning how important greetings are here in Nicaragua. I’ve picked up on this since the beginning of my time here, but only recently really begun to think about how significant and different this is from the culture I grew up in. For instance, Nicaraguans almost always greet everyone in a room upon entering, either individually or collectively as a group. This usually means a handshake or a cheek kiss for old friends or new acquaintances alike. Even if somebody enters a conversation or a meeting, he or she generally interjects at least a “Buenas tardes” to those present. To my North American-educated mind, this initially came off as extremely rude; I’d be having a conversation or even presenting some point in a workshop, and someone would walk in late with a public “Buenas!” distracting me and the rest of the group from whatever was being discussed. As time went on during my first few months here, I began to realize that this wasn’t just a group of inconsiderate youth, but in fact a great example of the beauty of cultural diversity.
After having been here several months, I myself have began to pick up on this Nicaraguan custom and I think I’m actually starting to appreciate it! I think the best thing I’ve taken from this new practice is the emphasis of greeting people individually when you come into contact with them. I think back to life in the States and the way I was often, like so many other North Americans, so preoccupied with my personal business that I didn’t have time or interest to grant other people a brief greeting. I have this image in my head of some fancy office with every busy in their own little cubicles hurriedly walking in and out, barely even making eye contact with those around them, too caught up in whatever it is that is too important to give anyone the time of day!
Anyhow, I’ve been working on learning from my Nicaraguan co-workers, friends and acquaintances to recognize that human relationships are worth taking a few seconds out of a busy schedule to make someone feel recognized. That’s all I’ve got for now! Until next time, happy 4th of July everyone, and thanks for all the support from near and far.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Soccer just makes everything better...
This Saturday is the Champions League final in Madrid between Bayern Munich and Inter Milan. That brings back high school memories of trying to justify to my parents missing an afternoon class to watch one of the biggest soccer games of the year. Barcelona, the defending champions and the team I was pulling for, lost to Inter in the semi-finals. In Nicaragua, you’re either a Barcelonista or a Madrilista, Barcelona’s arch-rivals Real Madrid. They are by far the two most popular teams here, and you’re either one or the other, no middle ground on this one!
At the youth center where I work, there was so much talk of whether or not Barca would advance to the final that we did a little survey. It was simple enough; everyone who came in the center was welcome to cast a vote for either Real Madrid or Barcelona, and we would total up the votes at the end to see who was more popular. Madrid quickly took the lead, and I did my best to encourage Barcelona fans to come visit the center. Every day of the week, though, Madrid still had the lead, and of course I didn’t hear the end of it! “Barcelona is losing!” the Madrid fans would taunt me. I pretended to get a rise out of it, but as I tried to point out, the popularity contest really wasn’t that important to me; I cared much more about who would win the league.
One of my co-workers had been a little challenging to connect with over the first few months I’ve been here. Nothing worrying, but I just had trouble sitting down and having a conversation. I had figured earlier that it would be just a matter of time and I’d have to keep plugging away. Well, this Barcelona-Madrid rivalry turned out to be a blessing in disguise! Before the week of the survey, we had started to joke around a little more and she appeared more supportive of my presence here, but she just took up the Barcelona thing and ran with it! The funny thing is that she isn’t even a soccer fan, but of course she suddenly became a dedicated Real Madrid supporter when she found out about my support for Barcelona-just to try and get under my skin! I did my part to keep up the rivalry as the big game approached.
As it turned out, Barcelona did not advance to the final of the Champions League. From that afternoon on, I didn’t hear the end of it: “Barcelona lost! Barcelona lost!” Part of me wanted to respond with “Yeah well Madrid didn’t even make it to the semi-finals,” but I figured it would be better to just swallow some pride and accept defeat. My co-worker, of course, was all over me, telling me I didn’t know how to lose, and I had to admit that I have a bit of a competitive spirit.
The funny thing was, for all the teasing provoking I got, my relationship with my co-worker took a marked turn for the better. As the whole thing played out, I realized that she and I could relate much better after a little light-hearted joking. Could something good actually come out of Barcelona losing??? I never would have thought so, but I seem to have been proved wrong. It’s amazing to see what a little humor can do to improve relationships and help people feel comfortable with others. It’s a strategy I think I could have tried from day one, but I’ll be sure to remember that in the months to come.
The World Cup is coming up in less than a month, and I’m planning to create some kind of survey or bracket to put up on the wall of the center to show the progress of the tournament. The World Cup, however, is no laughing matter.
At the youth center where I work, there was so much talk of whether or not Barca would advance to the final that we did a little survey. It was simple enough; everyone who came in the center was welcome to cast a vote for either Real Madrid or Barcelona, and we would total up the votes at the end to see who was more popular. Madrid quickly took the lead, and I did my best to encourage Barcelona fans to come visit the center. Every day of the week, though, Madrid still had the lead, and of course I didn’t hear the end of it! “Barcelona is losing!” the Madrid fans would taunt me. I pretended to get a rise out of it, but as I tried to point out, the popularity contest really wasn’t that important to me; I cared much more about who would win the league.
One of my co-workers had been a little challenging to connect with over the first few months I’ve been here. Nothing worrying, but I just had trouble sitting down and having a conversation. I had figured earlier that it would be just a matter of time and I’d have to keep plugging away. Well, this Barcelona-Madrid rivalry turned out to be a blessing in disguise! Before the week of the survey, we had started to joke around a little more and she appeared more supportive of my presence here, but she just took up the Barcelona thing and ran with it! The funny thing is that she isn’t even a soccer fan, but of course she suddenly became a dedicated Real Madrid supporter when she found out about my support for Barcelona-just to try and get under my skin! I did my part to keep up the rivalry as the big game approached.
As it turned out, Barcelona did not advance to the final of the Champions League. From that afternoon on, I didn’t hear the end of it: “Barcelona lost! Barcelona lost!” Part of me wanted to respond with “Yeah well Madrid didn’t even make it to the semi-finals,” but I figured it would be better to just swallow some pride and accept defeat. My co-worker, of course, was all over me, telling me I didn’t know how to lose, and I had to admit that I have a bit of a competitive spirit.
The funny thing was, for all the teasing provoking I got, my relationship with my co-worker took a marked turn for the better. As the whole thing played out, I realized that she and I could relate much better after a little light-hearted joking. Could something good actually come out of Barcelona losing??? I never would have thought so, but I seem to have been proved wrong. It’s amazing to see what a little humor can do to improve relationships and help people feel comfortable with others. It’s a strategy I think I could have tried from day one, but I’ll be sure to remember that in the months to come.
The World Cup is coming up in less than a month, and I’m planning to create some kind of survey or bracket to put up on the wall of the center to show the progress of the tournament. The World Cup, however, is no laughing matter.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
It's been a busy last few weeks!
Forgive me for the gap in entries recently-it’s been a busy last month or so, but definitely a good busy. I’ll have to back up to mid-March to catch up a little bit. Along with the other six Nicaragua Jesuit Volunteers, I traveled up to San Salvador, El Salvador for a weekend. I went in memory of Archbishop Oscar Romero, who was assassinated 30 years ago last month. Romero was one of Latin America’s greatest advocates for the poor during a time of violent civil war. We participated in a memorial ceremony, in which El Salvador’s president called Romero one of the country’s greatest patriots, and then a subsequent march to the downtown cathedral where a mass and vigil were held.
After the 12 hour bus ride back to Managua, I barely had time to wash my laundry and settle in before I was on the road again. I joined a team of other volunteers and several teachers at a school in the barrio where I work to give a youth retreat on vocation and calling in a rural community. We spent an entire day traveling to get to the town, leaving at 6:30 am and not getting in until after dark. The seven of us led the weekend retreat based at a church in San Pedro del Norte, in the Southern Atlantic region. We were expecting around 80 participants, but when we showed up we found that there we nearly 100. And by the way, “youth” has a pretty broad definition in Nicaragua; there were people participating from ages 14 to 70! The retreat provided some of my greatest memories so far in my time here, but also proved to be exhausting. My Spanish was tested as I led talks in front of the entire group, and then in a smaller group setting where I acted as a facilitator for the themes we discussed surrounding vocation.
After finishing up the retreat, I was more than ready for a little break, and Holy Week came at the perfect time. I had the week off from work, so that was a great chance to catch my breath. We had the great pleasure of hosting three Jesuit Volunteers from Belize for the week, so we showed them around Managua and took them to one of my favorite places here in Nicaragua, the Laguna de Apoyo. This was a perfect opportunity to trade stories and share experiences with other JVs, particularly since they’ve been in-country four months more than we have. We were able to tell about and show a little bit about what life looks like here in Nicaragua and hear similar experiences from Belize, along with the differences of living in a tiny country that is considered more Caribbean than Central American.
Following Semana Santa, it was time for…retreat again?! This time I would be participating, along with the rest of the Nica JVs. This was our first community retreat of the year, and we were all more than ready for a little relaxation and reflection about how everything is going so far: personally, with work, and with community. We decided to design the retreat with a theme of falling in love and all the different ways we can fall in love with our experience here in Nicaragua. We traveled to a small community in the northern mountains where I encountered the first real pine forests I’ve seen since coming here! The cool, clean mountain air was a welcome escape from the heat, noise and dust of Managua. We spent the weekend sharing reflections and discussions on what it means to fall in love, specifically how we might fall in love with ourselves, with our community, with our work sites, with Nicaragua, and with God. It wasn’t all heavy talk though, because we made sure to fit in some activities together and relaxation time to enjoy our beautiful surroundings. A highlight of each day was gathering as a community to watch the sun set over rows and rows of mountains reaching toward to the Pacific. From our viewpoint, in the department of Esteli, we could see nearly everything from Momotombo, a volcano near Managua, up to Cosiguina, another volcano near the Honduran border that Thomas and I climbed back in December. My eyes might have been playing tricks on me, but several times I thought I could pick out a slight glimmer of sunlight on the ocean, hundreds of miles off to the West.
The retreat was a breath of fresh air-emotionally, spiritually, physically. Hopefully that will bring us back to our work sites and community life re-charged and ready to fall in love with our experiences here with the struggles and triumphs that they will bring.
After the 12 hour bus ride back to Managua, I barely had time to wash my laundry and settle in before I was on the road again. I joined a team of other volunteers and several teachers at a school in the barrio where I work to give a youth retreat on vocation and calling in a rural community. We spent an entire day traveling to get to the town, leaving at 6:30 am and not getting in until after dark. The seven of us led the weekend retreat based at a church in San Pedro del Norte, in the Southern Atlantic region. We were expecting around 80 participants, but when we showed up we found that there we nearly 100. And by the way, “youth” has a pretty broad definition in Nicaragua; there were people participating from ages 14 to 70! The retreat provided some of my greatest memories so far in my time here, but also proved to be exhausting. My Spanish was tested as I led talks in front of the entire group, and then in a smaller group setting where I acted as a facilitator for the themes we discussed surrounding vocation.
After finishing up the retreat, I was more than ready for a little break, and Holy Week came at the perfect time. I had the week off from work, so that was a great chance to catch my breath. We had the great pleasure of hosting three Jesuit Volunteers from Belize for the week, so we showed them around Managua and took them to one of my favorite places here in Nicaragua, the Laguna de Apoyo. This was a perfect opportunity to trade stories and share experiences with other JVs, particularly since they’ve been in-country four months more than we have. We were able to tell about and show a little bit about what life looks like here in Nicaragua and hear similar experiences from Belize, along with the differences of living in a tiny country that is considered more Caribbean than Central American.
Following Semana Santa, it was time for…retreat again?! This time I would be participating, along with the rest of the Nica JVs. This was our first community retreat of the year, and we were all more than ready for a little relaxation and reflection about how everything is going so far: personally, with work, and with community. We decided to design the retreat with a theme of falling in love and all the different ways we can fall in love with our experience here in Nicaragua. We traveled to a small community in the northern mountains where I encountered the first real pine forests I’ve seen since coming here! The cool, clean mountain air was a welcome escape from the heat, noise and dust of Managua. We spent the weekend sharing reflections and discussions on what it means to fall in love, specifically how we might fall in love with ourselves, with our community, with our work sites, with Nicaragua, and with God. It wasn’t all heavy talk though, because we made sure to fit in some activities together and relaxation time to enjoy our beautiful surroundings. A highlight of each day was gathering as a community to watch the sun set over rows and rows of mountains reaching toward to the Pacific. From our viewpoint, in the department of Esteli, we could see nearly everything from Momotombo, a volcano near Managua, up to Cosiguina, another volcano near the Honduran border that Thomas and I climbed back in December. My eyes might have been playing tricks on me, but several times I thought I could pick out a slight glimmer of sunlight on the ocean, hundreds of miles off to the West.
The retreat was a breath of fresh air-emotionally, spiritually, physically. Hopefully that will bring us back to our work sites and community life re-charged and ready to fall in love with our experiences here with the struggles and triumphs that they will bring.
Friday, March 5, 2010
March already??
A few brief observations and reflections from recent days…Personal space in Nicaragua has such a different meaning than it does in the States. Traveling in buses, it’s not uncommon for me to have a sweaty body pushed up against my back, an elbow digging into my side. On the more frequented routes, people often rush up to the door to try to get a seat on the already overly crowded bus, pushing others out of the way in a contest of the survival of the fittest. It’s not only on buses though. In our barrio, and throughout Managua, houses are generally built close together, generally sharing walls with the neighboring house. The result in our case is that in the back section of the house, the “bodega” where Thomas and I have our rooms, there is a chicken coop directly across the brick wall from Thomas’ room! This, naturally, means I get to hear roosters crowing at all hours of the day and night and chickens clucking away as I turn up my fan or put in a set of earplugs in an often vain effort to drown out the background noise. On the other side of the bodega, directly across from my wall, our neighbors have a squawking green parrot. The family has a young baby in the house, and like many Nicaraguans they call him by his first and second names: Derick Joao. In fact, they seem to like the name so much, that they often repeat it over and over again just to hear it out loud. Living right across the wall, we can’t help hearing it. Neither can the parrot. Several weeks ago I heard the parrot distinctly repeating over and over again, “Derick JOAO, Derick JOAO, Derick JOAO.” So on weekend mornings when I’m trying to sleep in a bit, I’m often rudely awakened with the neighborly parrot calling out to the poor baby who by this point must be thoroughly confused about his name and the speaking abilities of various birds.
On an altogether different note, I should give a little work update. Yesterday I found myself reflecting on work and life in Nicaragua as I walked through the barrio accompanied by a group of youth heading toward our soccer practice. I’ve started working with a team here, running practices, doing some actual drills, and hopefully getting into a league or at least some friendly games soon. We had met at the Cantera center in the barrio, and all walked together to a nearby field where we hold our practices. Since we met in the morning, some guys where still rubbing sleep from their eyes as we slowly walked the dusty dirt road through their neighborhood. Anxious to get the practice going, I tried walking ahead a little to speed up the pace but that didn’t seem to do much good. I decided to be content to take our sweet time. I knew after getting to the field and taking a few warm-up shots, they would all be wide-awake and ready to roll. Surrounded by one of Managua’s poorer barrios-with garbage filling drainages, crime rates giving residents a bad name, and little hope of employment for the youth-I found myself in an odd moment of sheer contentment. I was hanging out with a group of guys who had nothing better to do on a Wednesday morning than go play soccer, and I loved it.
On an altogether different note, I should give a little work update. Yesterday I found myself reflecting on work and life in Nicaragua as I walked through the barrio accompanied by a group of youth heading toward our soccer practice. I’ve started working with a team here, running practices, doing some actual drills, and hopefully getting into a league or at least some friendly games soon. We had met at the Cantera center in the barrio, and all walked together to a nearby field where we hold our practices. Since we met in the morning, some guys where still rubbing sleep from their eyes as we slowly walked the dusty dirt road through their neighborhood. Anxious to get the practice going, I tried walking ahead a little to speed up the pace but that didn’t seem to do much good. I decided to be content to take our sweet time. I knew after getting to the field and taking a few warm-up shots, they would all be wide-awake and ready to roll. Surrounded by one of Managua’s poorer barrios-with garbage filling drainages, crime rates giving residents a bad name, and little hope of employment for the youth-I found myself in an odd moment of sheer contentment. I was hanging out with a group of guys who had nothing better to do on a Wednesday morning than go play soccer, and I loved it.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Work, several weeks in
After several weeks of work, I’m beginning to get a little better idea of what I’ll actually be doing over the next two years! The first week was slow, and I have to admit I was a little worried that there wouldn’t be enough for me to do. I thought it might just be a matter of time though, and sure enough it’s looking like things will get busy before too long.
Cantera, the organization I’m working at, has several sites in and around Managua. The one I’m based at is in one of the city’s neighborhoods known for being a rough area of town, so many of the activities and classes offered at the center are geared toward at-risk youth. I have heard of gang activity in the barrio, but I haven’t actually seen anything yet, and it seems like the majority of crime is just petty theft. The Cantera center is working to provide people in the neighborhood, especially youth, with alternative options: art, dance, computer and English classes, after-school help, and a program for youth to learn construction skills. While I’m still clearing up exactly what I’ll be doing at the center, it looks like I might help with the English classes and possibly the after-school tutoring for kids. I’d really like to work with high-school aged youth, so I’m looking at different ways to get involved in that. Possible ideas so far? Hanging out with the soccer teams affiliated with the center, teaching swim classes at a local pool, and organizing activities in the country (hikes, camping) for the city kids. All of those would be right up my alley and I know would be especially life-giving to me (and hopefully those I’m working with!), so hopefully those start to come together.
Another aspect of the worksite that I’m getting excited about is the possibility of working with some of the rural communities which Cantera accompanies. There is a variety of programs the organization runs in campo communities such as agricultural extension work, womens’ groups, and youth groups. I’m hoping that in addition to working with youth in the barrio, I can get out to these rural communities and see what opportunities there are to work with youth there. This last week, I went out to visit some schools with another volunteer at Cantera. We met with teachers and brought up the idea or working with kids once a week; luckily, there seems to be some support for the idea…so more waiting but hopefully in the coming weeks we’ll find out if that is going to happen.
One of the highlights of the first several weeks of work came following one of these visits to a rural school. After finishing the meeting with primary school teachers, Kati (the other Cantera volunteer) and I started walking the four kilometers down the dirt road to the highway where we could catch a bus. Soon after we started walking, a young man riding a wagon towed by a horse came up behind us, and I jokingly stuck out my thumb for a ride. He slowed down the horse and to our surprise offered a ride on the small wagon. We both had been looking forward to a walk, but he insisted and I was convinced easily enough to accept at least for a short while. We squeezed onto the wagon and were trotting along the dirt country road and chatting it up before long. It turned out he was returning from Ciudad Sandino, on the outskirts of Managua, where he had been selling firewood. “Here’s the cash,” he proudly told us patting a cloth bag next to him on the wagon.
His house ended up being only a kilometer or so up the road, so it was a short ride. Before we continued though, he invited us to take a look at the view from his house; the community was up on a ridge above Managua, and from the back yard we could see all of the city, Lake Managua and the surrounding countryside. He pointed out landmarks below with obvious pride, and though his simple house was precariously perched on the exposed ridge, he clearly was happy to call this his home.
Another highlight of my time here in Nicaragua came this past week as well. On the strong recommendation of a good friend of ours, our community of four decided to splurge and go to the Ruben Dario National Theatre to see “El Nica,” a one-man monologue about a Nicaraguan immigrant in Costa Rica. With a much stronger economy and more stable political situation, Nicaraguans have been crossing the southern border into Costa Rica to look for work for years. Construction, migrant agriculture and tourism services seem to be some of the most common industries in which Nicaraguans find work, much like many Mexican or other Latin American immigrants in the US.
“El Nica” was one of the best plays I have ever seen, and it was entirely in Spanish. I was happy to see I could follow along, although I did miss a few of the Nicaraguan innuendos. The play followed the story of a young Nicaraguan man who illegally enters Costa Rica to work and send money home. He struggles with loneliness, work-related injuries, and discrimination for being a foreigner. The parallels to the struggles of immigrants around the world-particularly in my home country-were all too clear. I was greatly moved by the performance, especially the message implied from a slide in the intro with graffiti on a wall reading “Yo solo quiero trabajar.” I also was reminded of how often we overlook people on the margins of society, barely giving them a look in the eye. And how easy it is to take a few seconds to say hello and recognize the dignity of every human being! I’ve been thinking of that a lot recently and I want to make that a habit during my time here in Nicaragua. At the end of the show I felt shivers go down my spine as the entire theater rose to give the actor a ten minute standing ovation and clap along to “Solo le pido a Dios” by Mercedes Sosa. It was a night of some of the best culture Nicaragua has to offer and I hope to hold on to the energy and emotion in that theater in the weeks and months to come.
Cantera, the organization I’m working at, has several sites in and around Managua. The one I’m based at is in one of the city’s neighborhoods known for being a rough area of town, so many of the activities and classes offered at the center are geared toward at-risk youth. I have heard of gang activity in the barrio, but I haven’t actually seen anything yet, and it seems like the majority of crime is just petty theft. The Cantera center is working to provide people in the neighborhood, especially youth, with alternative options: art, dance, computer and English classes, after-school help, and a program for youth to learn construction skills. While I’m still clearing up exactly what I’ll be doing at the center, it looks like I might help with the English classes and possibly the after-school tutoring for kids. I’d really like to work with high-school aged youth, so I’m looking at different ways to get involved in that. Possible ideas so far? Hanging out with the soccer teams affiliated with the center, teaching swim classes at a local pool, and organizing activities in the country (hikes, camping) for the city kids. All of those would be right up my alley and I know would be especially life-giving to me (and hopefully those I’m working with!), so hopefully those start to come together.
Another aspect of the worksite that I’m getting excited about is the possibility of working with some of the rural communities which Cantera accompanies. There is a variety of programs the organization runs in campo communities such as agricultural extension work, womens’ groups, and youth groups. I’m hoping that in addition to working with youth in the barrio, I can get out to these rural communities and see what opportunities there are to work with youth there. This last week, I went out to visit some schools with another volunteer at Cantera. We met with teachers and brought up the idea or working with kids once a week; luckily, there seems to be some support for the idea…so more waiting but hopefully in the coming weeks we’ll find out if that is going to happen.
One of the highlights of the first several weeks of work came following one of these visits to a rural school. After finishing the meeting with primary school teachers, Kati (the other Cantera volunteer) and I started walking the four kilometers down the dirt road to the highway where we could catch a bus. Soon after we started walking, a young man riding a wagon towed by a horse came up behind us, and I jokingly stuck out my thumb for a ride. He slowed down the horse and to our surprise offered a ride on the small wagon. We both had been looking forward to a walk, but he insisted and I was convinced easily enough to accept at least for a short while. We squeezed onto the wagon and were trotting along the dirt country road and chatting it up before long. It turned out he was returning from Ciudad Sandino, on the outskirts of Managua, where he had been selling firewood. “Here’s the cash,” he proudly told us patting a cloth bag next to him on the wagon.
His house ended up being only a kilometer or so up the road, so it was a short ride. Before we continued though, he invited us to take a look at the view from his house; the community was up on a ridge above Managua, and from the back yard we could see all of the city, Lake Managua and the surrounding countryside. He pointed out landmarks below with obvious pride, and though his simple house was precariously perched on the exposed ridge, he clearly was happy to call this his home.
Another highlight of my time here in Nicaragua came this past week as well. On the strong recommendation of a good friend of ours, our community of four decided to splurge and go to the Ruben Dario National Theatre to see “El Nica,” a one-man monologue about a Nicaraguan immigrant in Costa Rica. With a much stronger economy and more stable political situation, Nicaraguans have been crossing the southern border into Costa Rica to look for work for years. Construction, migrant agriculture and tourism services seem to be some of the most common industries in which Nicaraguans find work, much like many Mexican or other Latin American immigrants in the US.
“El Nica” was one of the best plays I have ever seen, and it was entirely in Spanish. I was happy to see I could follow along, although I did miss a few of the Nicaraguan innuendos. The play followed the story of a young Nicaraguan man who illegally enters Costa Rica to work and send money home. He struggles with loneliness, work-related injuries, and discrimination for being a foreigner. The parallels to the struggles of immigrants around the world-particularly in my home country-were all too clear. I was greatly moved by the performance, especially the message implied from a slide in the intro with graffiti on a wall reading “Yo solo quiero trabajar.” I also was reminded of how often we overlook people on the margins of society, barely giving them a look in the eye. And how easy it is to take a few seconds to say hello and recognize the dignity of every human being! I’ve been thinking of that a lot recently and I want to make that a habit during my time here in Nicaragua. At the end of the show I felt shivers go down my spine as the entire theater rose to give the actor a ten minute standing ovation and clap along to “Solo le pido a Dios” by Mercedes Sosa. It was a night of some of the best culture Nicaragua has to offer and I hope to hold on to the energy and emotion in that theater in the weeks and months to come.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Feliz Ano Nuevo!
I’m a little late, but happy new year from
Life here in Nica is quickly settling down and it’s beginning to feel more comfortable for me. This was the first Christmas I’ve spent away from family, so that was a little tough to get used to. Besides not being around family, it has been hot (at least 80 degrees or so) and sunny pretty much every day, so it really felt different from most of my Christmases at home. Nevertheless, I spent it with the seven other JVs here in
Immediately after Christmas, Thomas (one of my housemates) and I took a trip to go explore a remote
Some of the second year volunteers here have had families visiting, so after getting back from our little excursion we were able to spend time with them. We had a relaxing New Years (Catchphrase and more fireworks!), and spent New Years Day having a barbeque with the visiting families.
Right now I’m enjoying my last few days of really free time before work kicks in. I’ll be starting on January 11th, so I’m excited to get that aspect of my time here going and settle in to a bit of a routine. In other news, community living has been a wonderful experience so far. I love getting to know my community mates and I think we all have high hopes for the coming year. I’ve only cooked a few times so far, but I had a great success this week: a crusty Mexican bean bake with rice and a simple salad, and pineapple for dessert! I’m hopeful I’ll be able to master a couple simple dishes here to expend my limited cooking repertoire.
I think that’s about it for now! Thanks for checking in, and I’ll hope to have some thoughts to share after work begins next week. All the best!
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