Getting back into routine

January is almost come and gone, and I’m now well into my second year as a Jesuit Volunteer in Nicaragua. The last several months have been a whirlwind, but now life is settling back into the normal routine of work and community life and the weeks seem to be slipping through my fingers.

After hosting JVC staff members here for a yearly evaluation, visit and retreat, there were a few short weeks before we were going to the airport to pick up the new JVs who would be joining our two communities here. They all arrived safely and ready to hit the ground running, so we kept them busy with all kinds of “In-Country Orientation” activities. This included safety talks, history talks, homestays with families in our barrio and in a rural community, language school and a community retreat.

Somewhere in there, we said goodbyes to the JVs finishing up their two years (good luck Christine, Amber and Patrick!) and then I started having family arriving to visit after going over a year without seeing them! My sister Katie came first, followed by my brother Danny, and then the family was completed with the arrival of my parents and sister Claire soon after Christmas. We took time to catch up after so much time, travel around Nicaragua, see my work site and meet the other Jesuit Volunteers and friends here. A highlight was taking them all to a small rural community in the mountains where we have done retreats before. We rented a cabin and all stayed in one room together. The electricity was out, but we were happy to sit around together playing guitar by candle and flashlight. It was the first time I had spent with my entire family since I started this journey, and it will be close to another year until that happens again, so I made sure to relish the moment.

My family stayed around until early January before heading back to work and school commitments. Soon after they left I started up again with work (I had most of late December and early January off). I’ve now been doing that for a few weeks, and like this time last year it’s been a bit of a slow start for getting activities going. That hasn’t necessarily been bad though as it’s given me time to adjust back into the work mode and get to know my new community mates. Heather and Megan are new in our house, and Adrienne, Bianca and Tony are new in the Ciudad Sandino casa.

Wraping up Year One!

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.