Don't Tolerate Intolerance

Why don't they just move? 
This ignorant, yet all too common statement is often uttered impulsively by Americans responding to reports of people living in dire poverty. Ironically, it's these same people who then vote to limit immigration into the "land of opportunity" that our ancestors sought out when times were hard in their native lands.
Think before you speak/vote/act. Try walking a mile in someone else's shoes before you judge their situations/decisions/worth.


The above is strictly my own opinion and is in no way related to Peace Corps´ mission/ideology. 

The Time Has Come...(the walrus said)

The time has come for me to start looking for my own place.  Sure there are a ton of good reasons to stay living with my host family, but I really think I'm ready to have my independence back and to have a place to call my own. I'm sure that once I find my home sweet home, I'll be asking myself why I left the many comforts of life with the school director, but I want to live at the socio-economic level of the majority here, and that is not what I'm doing right now.  I'm currently living in a house with painted walls that touch the ceiling, interior doors that close and seal securely, and an indoor bathroom with a toilet and a shower!  I can open my glass windows if I want a breeze, or I can just turn on the fan that's mounted on my wall.  I also have three amazing meals a day, along with some delicious frescos and someone that cleans the house, mops the tiled floor, and maintains the yard daily.  The only critters I've seen in here are the little lizards that run all over the walls eating the mosquitos (the ones we call anoles and keep as pets in the US – they're harmless and there are always at least 4 in sight at any given time, no matter whose house you're in) and of course a few ants, roaches, and PLENTY of mosquitoes. 

Why on earth move out, you say? Well, for starters, I hate having to explain where I'm going all the time, and it's really inconvenient coming home to a locked house on those days when all of our schedules conflict.  I also really want to be able to have visitors, and a hammock to just chill in, and believe it or not, I want to shop and cook for myself – someone remind me of that when I'm complaining about how I can't cook, and how I'm dying for some good gallo pinto.

The problem with moving out?  It's extremely rare for anyone, let alone a “muchacha,” or young girl, to live “solo” here in Nicaragua.  Traditionally, everyone lives at home with their families, until they get married, and sometimes even after that!  Therefore, the idea of little, helpless me living allll alone concerns some people.  Today I had two teachers telling me that it's just not safe because I'd have to sleep all alone at night – gasp – aren't I worried?  They also mentioned that sometimes there are people that smoke marijuana here. Bahaha it was so hard not to laugh at that statement – you know those dangerous pot heads...

Really though, Peace Corps told us this would happen.  It's no more dangerous to live alone here than it is to live alone anywhere else.  As a matter of fact, it's wayyy safer since I'll know all my neighbors and it's literally impossible for anything to happen here without everyone knowing – especially if it happens within a 500 meter radius of the gringa.  Still, it's unusual, therefore like I was told would happen, people are trying to convince me not to move out. 

Little do they know, a more convincing argument would begin with a discussion of snakes/scorpions/tarantulas/mice/roaches/komodo dragons...okok maybe not...but HUGE iguanas  creeping in to my house when I least expect it.  Yes I've seen a giant male iguana (much creepier looking than the pets I've seen in the US) enter someone's house through the open window when no one was looking – and yes there was a roadkill snake on the road this morning and a roadkill scorpion the other day.  Luckily, I have yet to see either of the latter two alive – knock on wood.  I will say that I'm a little concerned about such critters, but after having a calm conversation with the giant spider in my bed the other day, I realized my tolerance level for unwelcomed “wildlife” has raised considerably. Therefore I plan to just get a dog and cat and let them fend off/chow down on such impostors. Ahh yes, pets, another reason I want my own place! =)

Oops, did I mention there are basically no available houses to rent here in Belén? Haha, I guess this process might be a little longer than expected.  In the mean time, I'll soak up being spoiled with 3 cooked meals a day and relatively no fear of waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of rats  rummaging through my things – a horrifying reality that my fellow volunteer friend lived through the other night. Don't worry Mom/Omi/Gram, I'm a camper, remember?? (I know you were thinking that all along Dad.)

Happy February everyone! Love always. <3

Earthquake!! (and other tidbits)

So I experienced my third and most intense earthquake today!! Haha, no worries, it only lasted maybe 7 seconds, but I was home alone and it was enough to give me butterflies in my stomach and get my heart racing a little bit! It was only a 5.1 on the Richter scale, but it was cool to hear the people outside reacting over the noise of the earth/houses trembling. Afterwards, I looked outside and saw that everyone just kept moving like nothing happened at all! Lol, gotta love the little reminders that make me realize that no matter how accustomed I am to life here now, it's still way different from my life back in the States.  Of course there's also the fact that it's bordering on 90 degrees and it's the end of the coolest month of the year, and the fact that there was a horse in my garden this morning, and a pig in the middle of the road on my way to school...

I guess I've just become so accustomed to everything that was once new and strange to me here, that I forget to mention a lot of it to you guys.  Here's some of my daily normalcies that are not so normal for typical life in the good ol' U S of A.

* This morning, a mother passed me on her bicycle with her 5 year old daughter sitting side saddle on the bar that runs between the seat and the handle bars and her infant/toddler held in her left arm. She was pedaling uphill and making progress like it was nothing! (Everyone here rides at least two people to a bicycle, many times with full grown adults – me included – sitting sideways on the bar in front of the seat. I've yet to be the one pedaling someone else around because I don't have my own bike yet, therefore I just accept rides when they're offered to me!)

*  Yesterday, after giving summer school classes during the morning, two of the boys from my English class/youth group showed up to help me build the fence around my garden.  They came with machetes and hole-makers (haha idk the word for the tool in English or Spanish) and were 100% ready to do it all themselves! Five minutes later, they were outside the school perimeter in the trees, cutting down branches that would work for posts.  They worked so hard and it was like nothing to them!  And these are the same “urban” kids I thought would never be willing to get dirty and work in my garden.  I guess I shouldn't be so quick to assume.

*  One of my favorite things about my town is the amazing variety of food being sold by people walking in the streets yelling out the names of the things they're selling. Usually the women/children have their tortillas in buckets dangling from their bicycle handlebars, or their baked goods/vegetables/fruits/etc balanced in huge baskets on their heads. Yesterday on my way to teach English, one lady was selling cacao frescos for 2 cords (11 cents)!! Needless to say I bought one.  Oh and how could I forget the ice cream man who pedals his tricycle/freezer full of ice cream all around town? Hearing the bells on that bike has made my day on more than one occasion!

*  Another great thing about my town is that during the day/evening, everyone has their doors open. The general evening past-time here is to walk around town and stop by houses of family members or friends, just to chat for a little while (or a few hours, depending on who's doing the visiting/hosting). It's so tranquilo to walk around the streets and see everyone sitting outside on their porches, or on the sidewalks in their rocking chairs just relaxing and enjoying each other's company.  There doesn't ever seem to be a sense of stress or prisa (rush) in the air.  This week, my host cousins and I have turned their street into a volleyball court (without a net of course). After dinner, we trickle down to the grandma's house a few at a time, and just start hitting the ball around out front.  We played for more than two hours last night and ended up with 8 more people than we started with! Gotta love it.

Buscando Estudiantes ~ Always an Adventure

Today, the teachers had a meeting to set up the schedule for these extra classes and afterwards, they were sent out to go house-to-house informing their kids who had failed classes about the new plan. This task however, was not as easy as you might think. Two 5^th grade teachers invited me to go with them out to one of the comarcas (towns on the outskirts of my municipality) to invite their 5 students who lived in that direction. I was happy to go because they lent me a bicycle and it meant I would get to see a whole new part of my community. So the three of us (one in a dress and HEELS) mounted our bicycles and headed out on one of the roads that leads out of the urban center.

Between the Mayor's office and the police station, the road changed from asphalt to cobblestone. Once we passed the police station it was dirt and rocks the rest of the way. Luckily, it was a little overcast and there was a gorgeous breeze, so the ride was very enjoyable. As we got farther and farther out of town, the scenery changed completely from compact houses situated pretty much on top of each other, to nothing but plantain and papaya plantations in both directions. The people changed too. In the center of town, everyone – boys and girls, men and women – zips back and forth on bicycles and motorcycles, appearing very “American” in terms of clothing and attitude. Farther out of town though, the only people on bikes were the farmers – a wide range of young, beautiful jovenes (youths), middle-aged men, and elderly campacinos (life-long farmers) – all of whom were strong, tanned, determined, and generally fairly serious. Almost all of them had the same exact attire consisting of a baseball cap or sombrero (straw hat to protect from the sun), jeans, black rain boots, and of course a machete hanging from their belts. The only women in sight, were the ones watching their children play in the yard, or the ones hanging out their clothes to dry.

Finding the kids on our list was an adventure all on it's own. Here in Nicaragua, a typical address is the following, “from the school, 2 blocks south, half block west.” There are no street names, let alone house numbers. You can imagine that once you get out off the beaten path, such vague directions become even more vague. The direction we had to one boy's house was literally “on the way to Ojo de Agua” (which is the name of a town). Oh silly me, we were also given the name of his mother. Of course that left us with no choice but to ask as we went along.

For me, this made for a fun-filled day of exercise, fresh air, and excitement. I got to see the beautiful views (so mad I didn't have my camera), talk to some really awesome people, get out of the house, enjoy the breeze in my hair, witness a pet monkey playing in it's homemade jungle gym...I could go on and on. You would think though that this would be nothing but an extreme inconvenience for the other teachers. They've lived here all their lives, and therefore didn't have the novelty factor like I did. Surprisingly though, they were perfectly content riding 4 kilometers (in one direction) to find their kids. They commented to me about how hard it was for the kids to ride in to school everyday. On a good day, the students can probably make it in about 45 minutes by bicycle, but when you factor in the extreme sun they have half the year, or the daily rains they have the other half of the year?! It's a miracle they make it at all! I guess it was that line of thinking that kept the teachers from complaining even once about the trip that neither of them had planned on making when they woke up that morning.

To sum it all up, we found all 5 kids in just over two hours, including a soda break at the house of one of the students. It was a great day and I can't wait to buy my own bicycle so I can go for rides like that just to explore!

Shat on by a Chicken in a Mango Tree

This week I was shat on by a chicken in a mango tree.

That's an entertaining enough blog as it is if you ask me, but I need to elaborate because, correct me if I'm wrong, but I imagine that none of you have ever been shat on by a chicken – especially not from such an altitude as a mango tree.  I've decided you should all be allowed to picture it exactly, so that you can really share in this experience of mine.  You can thank me for that later.

I've mentioned before that the chickens in my host family's yard like to climb the ladder of the mango tree to chill up there all evening/night. So the other night, while unsuspectingly walking back from the latrine, I was struck by what felt like a falling baggie of water – which would not be entirely surprising, considering sometimes they have water fights here with baggies of water en vez de (instead of) balloons.  To my dismay however, it was not one of the local kids hanging out in the tree wanting to play a game. 

I unfortunately reacted to the warm, yet cold; wet, yet solid, assault on my hair/face/arm/shirt/pride, audibly enough for my host sister who was filling her water bucket to notice what had happened.  As soon as she saw my look of pure shock and confusion, she hurried to my side.  Within seconds we were both laughing so hard, that my host nephew, brother, and other sister came out to see what was going on.  Once I got into the light, we could see the brownish liquid running down my hairline, forehead, glasses, and shoulder.  Oh it was sexy.  As if that wasn't bad enough, the shall we say “solid portion” of poo landed nicely on the shirt I was planning to wear to the fireworks that night. 

Had this been during my first month or so with the family, I know they would have been appalled and apologetic and worried about my reaction to such a thing, but since I lived with them for my three months of training, and I'm completely a part of the family now, they felt no shame in flat out laughing at my misfortune while helping me clean up. Hahaha I can't even write about it now without literally laughing out loud. Ohhh mannn....that WOULD happen to me.  It was like the 8^th grade trip all over again – only slightly less traumatizing because I didn't have the whole bus load of field trippers trying to take pictures of the seagull poop in my hair this time.

In other news...with my breakfast the next morning, I drank milk straight from the cow in the backyard.  My host sister warmed it up, flavored it with a little coffee and sugar, and it was actually super delicious! 

A Little Self-Discovery

I realized this morning while running around the baseball field watching the sunrise over the field of newly planted plantain trees, that living here in Nicaragua for the past four months has taught me a lot about myself.

During my first three months of training, I didn't feel like I was being asked to accomplish anything completely unheard of. Sure I was told I had to:

- live with a Nicaraguan family who speaks only Spanish

- learn to wash my clothes by hand

- cross the dirt backyard to use the outdoor shower and latrine

- eat rice and beans at least twice a day (usually 3 times)

- give three science classes completely in Spanish

- build a garden from scratch

- start a youth group with kids that only speak Spanish

- start an organic compost with people's food scraps and poop from the local cows

- survey 20 people in my community and report on it in Spanish (are we sensing a theme here?)

- and of course LEARN SPANISH during my 6 hours of class each day.

For some reason though, this didn't seem very overwhelming at the time. I mean sure the language barrier was a challenge, to say the least, but I guess juggling classes/student teaching/work/social life during college made me good at multi-tasking and working under pressure. Looking back on training, I can see now that I really did accomplish a lot. It's kind of a big deal that I've succeeded in living completely immersed in a new culture, away from my friends and family and way outside of my comfort zone. This sense of accomplishment is not what I was dwelling on while running this morning however; on the contrary, it's what I have to remind myself of when I start to think that maybe I'm not cut out for this after all.

Being placed in my site has been challenging me way more than I ever would have imagined. Now that I'm out of the new comfort zone I created in my training town, I've had to start all over again. What have I learned during my time alone in site? I've learned that I'm the type of person that likes when things come easy. I believe that's called lazy? Yeah, I can hear you confirming that, mom. I've learned that I tend to be too proud to ask questions, and that this is an extremely detrimental characteristic to have when moving into any new community, let alone one in a new country where you're expected to play a leadership role. I've learned that I like it when people offer to help me so that I don't have to step out of my comfort zone and actually seek help. I've realized that even though I was brave enough to go through with my Peace Corps application, competent enough to make it through the interview/training process, and strong enough to get through training, that I'm still scared to death to introduce myself to new people! How is that possible?

One of my Nica friends here told me that “una gangsta timida no puede ser,” which basically means there's no such thing as a shy gangsta (yeah, a few people here equate my being from NY with me being gangsta – as they should. haha yes I can see you rolling your eyes...don't sleep on my swag.) I guess it's true though. I really have no idea why I'm having such a hard time with this. I even wrote up a survey to give to people, so I'd have a reason to knock on doors and introduce myself. How many surveys have I given? ZERO! ¡Que vergüenza! (What shame!/How embarrasing!)

Well, I guess it's time to change the flaws I've found in myself. This experience is about growth and I apparently need to put some effort into forcing that growth to occur. Tomorrow, I'm going to go out and give some surveys. I guess it's like ripping off a Bandaid? I just have to do it and get it over with. I should probably get started on my garden too, huh? Here's to shaking off the pereza (laziness) that's come from wanting to avoid awkward situations. Time to make moves.

*Between writing and posting this blog I actually did start my garden with 2 of the boys from my English class.! Woohoo!!*   

Christmas in Guisquiliapa

Merry late Christmas everyone! Well, this past week marked my first Christmas and birthday away from home, and I'm happy to say that I couldn't have asked for anything more. I spent the week back in my training town with my host family, and loved every single second of it (as expected.)

On the 24th, we spent the entire day making nacatamales, a traditional Christmas food here. Basically, in part of a banana leaf, we put ground corn (masa), rice, seasoned pork (fresh from the newly killed Christmas pig) fresh cut veggies, potatoes, and raisins. Then the banana leaf got folded neatly, tied shut around it's contents, and thrown into a giant vat over the fire to boil for the rest of the day. We made about 230 of them! This means that I woke up at 6 to go to the market with my host sister to buy the veggies. By 9am I had already peeled a mountain of potatoes, and chopped up tons of onions, peppers, and tomatoes all with a knife the size of my forearm. Next, I moved on to tearing banana leaves as the women in my family started putting together all the nacatamales. It was so much fun!

Ooops, I forgot to mention that the night before, they killed the pig they had been feeding for Christmas. Therefore, every single part it was cleaned, chopped and prepared the night before – some parts for the nacatamales (delicioso), others for the chicharron (fried skin and intestines, mmm), others for the consumido (combination of the innards and brains?? I don't even know what was in that, but BLECK!)

That night, we stayed up until midnight, just hanging out with family and whatever friends happened to stop by the house. I also got invited to the celebration at Katie's host grandma's house, which was equally “alegre.” 

Back at home, at midnight, it all began. There were tons of fireworks in the street (many of which were being set off out front by my host brothers), and we placed the baby Jesus into the manger scene they already had set up. People from all over town came to sing to the baby Jesus, and on their way out, they received a delicious nacatamal! After all the craziness, my entire family sang “las mañanitas” (the traditional birthday song) to me! It was the best!

Then on the 25th, we headed out to where my family's farm is to attend another Purisima (celebration of Mary.) Afterwards, when we got home, my host sister-in-law had already begun cooking my birthday dinner. They invited Jessi and Katie over and the best part was that whole family sat together at the table to eat for my birthday! I lived there for 3 months and had NEVER seen them all sit together to eat. It was so so special, and the food was amazing!! They even bought me a cake and ice cream and they all had gifts for me! They sang again before the cake too. It was the perfect birthday!

Oh and to top it all off? There was a DJed party in the town that night, so Katie and I headed out to dance with our host brothers/friends all night. Sure I woke up with a terrible cough from all the dirt we kicked up while dancing, but it was way worth it. 

Thanks so much to those of you who called me on Christmas and for my birthday! It was awesome getting to talk to everyone and see that I wasn't completely forgotten about on Christmas. Can't wait to come home and celebrate with everyone next year! Love and miss my fam <3