Get 'Er Done

It is very difficult to believe that it has been over one month since I have seen you all. In some ways it feels light-years longer, and in others-like it was just yesterday. I miss you all so much… and I hope you know how often I think of you. This has been a very exciting week and I have a lot to share with you regarding my visit to Cusmapa…sooo let’s get started!
Transportation
Wow. What an experience this was. On Sunday morning, I and five other volunteers boarded a mini-bus to Managua (the capital city) around 7:00am. It took a little bit longer than anticipated and stopped frequently throughout the 1.5 hour ride. Right before our stop, the micro-bus pulled to the side. At first, I thought that someone had dropped something in the front seat – because they were all leaning down towards the floor. Turns out - they had retrieved a screwdriver and were trying to fix some type of mechanical dysfunction. Needless to say, we got out – and got into a taxi for the bus station. All six of us fit into the taxi, which was quite impressive. Within minutes of the bus station – our taxi was… pulled over. Didn’t even know they had ‘radar’ or any type of traffic police in Nicaragua – it was shocking. Apparently the policeman saw he had more than the ‘allowed capacity’ in the taxi and solely wanted to pull the poor guy over to solicit a pay-off. 40 cordobas – or 2 dollars…not too bad for corrupt police action.
We finally made it to the bus station – and ended up making the 8:45am bus to Somoto. The bus ride was generally smooth – only a few moments of terror during the three hours. I was actually able to sleep most of the ride and was sitting with Nico (one of the other volunteers) the whole ride up. After arriving in Somoto – I broke off from the rest of the group and waited about an hour and a half for the next bus up the mountain to Cusmapa. Words of advice from current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) included: being very aggressive when getting on the bus. Boy, were they right. At 1:15pm the colorful school bus from the 80’s pulled up with a significant amount of people already on it. Before the bus was even in park, people were climbing in the emergency exit, shoving people out of their way, frantically trying to get on the bus. I may or may not have elbowed an old man and a little kid to get on the bus.
None the less, I made it on – but there was already standing room only. There was a teenager ‘saving a seat’ for someone – or just not trying to sit with anyone right next to me, and he eventually allowed me to sit down next to him. It was so crammed that I could barely reach into my purse – because of the lack of elbow room. Before heading up the mountain we stopped in various spots to pick up more people and more cargo. To fully explain what that bus ride is like – is impossible to anyone who has not experienced it. Blazing hot. Zero personal space (a woman (who was holding her child) had her butt leaning on my shoulder two out of the three hours). Animals were on board. Approximately 15-20 people on top of the bus. A LOT of bags/cargo. People that live up this mountain, especially in Cusmapa, are completely isolated from stores, food, etc. and therefore come to Somoto for all of these needs. Completely unpaved roads. And straight up that mountain.
The scenery was unbelievable and it was impossible to be bored during this right. Also, impossible to sleep. Bump. City. I made small talk with my seat buddy until his stop – and then spoke with a really nice guy my age that lives in Cusmapa and is studying Anthropolopy. Before I knew it – I had arrived in Cusmapa. I somehow got off the right bus stop in Cusmapa and Ian was there waiting for me! (They blow the horn for about 60 seconds straight to signify its arrival in town). The next part of my transportation began the next morning (Monday), but I feel that it needs its own section.
Save a Horse…
So. For the remainder of Sunday evening – Ian and I chatted about Peace Corps, his experience (challenges, etc.), and he attempted to prepare me for our adventure in the morning. He said that he, I, one doctor and two nurses would be venturing out to two rural communities. By horseback. I shared with him that I had never ridden a horse and that my resume consisted of Newark Labor Day and riding a mechanical bull in Orlando, Florida. He definitely seemed concerned and told me that the trails were very rough and that every time he had gone out to these communities, someone had fallen off their horse. Fabulous pep talk. I am not going to lie – I was scared as all hell and excited at the same time. Well we packed up the medicine – and I headed off into the unknown. Just getting on the horse was intimidating – but apparently watching ‘Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken” dozens of times throughout my life really prepared me for this moment of my life. I mounted perfectly. Ha.
My first real event of horse riding would be winding through the mountains of Nicaragua – on paths that are impassible by anything but horse or walking, crossing a river, and staring over cliffs with nothing standing between me, my burro and the bottomless pits. I quickly bonded with my ‘burro’ (I am pretty sure it was a mule – hard to say for sure though) and he became my best friend for the next 36 hours. I am pretty positive that I had full-out conversations with him – encouraging him, thanking him for not killing me, the norm. He was incredibly sturdy – and enjoyed going at a slower pace. Match made in heaven. They put a lot of weight on my horse – to weigh him down of sorts. Believe it or not – my experience riding a mechanical bull in Orlando, Florida – proved to be very, very useful. It was sort of a crash course in horse-back riding. It’s all in the hips. So, thanks for making me do that Nicole. May have saved my life. Ha.
The paths were treacherous. Several times, we had to get off and walk the horses because it was so steep and dangerous. In total on Monday, I rode a horse for about 8 hours to get to Los Limones. Seriously – 8 hours. Just imagine for a moment how that feels on your tracero (bum). I would have to say that the scariest moment occurred when I looked behind me, to see one of the nurse’s horse fall. She fell off the horse and then the horse fell and landed on her leg. At first, they thought that the horse’s leg was broken – but he was able to get up and keep on truckin’. These trails were not legit by any means. In total between Monday and Tuesday, I rode my burro for over 13 hours. I am almost positive that is more time than I slept during those three days, combined. It is amazing how you find ways to adjust your body to alleviate the pressure on your backside. Nonetheless, I made it to our destination without any major incidents. I was actually quite impressed with myself considering the conditions of these paths. These ‘paths’ including passing over the Rio Negro (Black River), which was actually more rocks than water (it is the dry season here). During the rainy season (winter) this river is completely impassable and various towns are cut off from all resources for 5-6 months. Resources include any medical attention, at all. It was so difficult for me to fathom the fact that these towns had access to medical attention/medicine only three, maybe four times per year. Can you imagine? They live with parasites and diseases; use their own methods to heal cuts and scrapes.
The main reason for going out to these communities is to provide consults and weigh babies. The idea is that there are volunteers or “brigadistias” within the community that keep up with the baby weighing monthly – but this does not always prove to be effective. The point of weighing the babies is obviously to monitor their growth and provide information to the mothers about how to improve the nutrition of their children (most of them are underweight and breastfeeding is sometimes forgone for coffee). It is unbelievable the need for ‘basic’ knowledge about growth/nutrition in these communities. A lot has to do with how isolated they are and just cut off from all resources and a lot of knowledge. They have been living like this for generations and more importantly, they are seemingly very happy/content.
Los Limones
Los Limones is one of those isolated communities that I don’t think us as American’s can really even imagine. In total, there were 18 families living in this isolated, rural, rural community. No stores. No banks. No running water. No electricity. No school. Nada. Upon arriving in Los Limones – I was overwhelmed with pain in my backside and nervousness in speaking with a lot of people with my ‘intermediate-low’ Spanish skills. For the first half hour or so I quietly observed my second viewing of baby-weighing and smiled when people were obviously staring. I sat down next to a girl that looked about 16 years old and eventually introduced myself. Within minutes I was surrounded by at least 25 children. It was as though I was a fresh flower filled with nectar – and was being swarmed by bees. They asked me dozens of questions, including: what is your mom’s name, what is your dad’s name and where are you from? After playing twenty questions – it was then time for a talent show apparently. They asked me to sing, dance, and say really difficult words in Spanish so they could laugh at me. I don’t think they had ever seen a camera or photographs before, and therefore we took countless photos. They invited me to play kickball – and of course I jumped right in. The background to the game was a mountain range in Honduras. The view was unbelievable…I could have stared out there forever.
I forgot for a while that there was no electricity, no water, and that I had not eaten in hours. It was one of those moments in your life when you are completely carefree. I suppose it was a taste of the innocence that childhood beholds. So sweet. I eventually ate a few bites of a freshly made tortilla and utilized my flashlight (thanks Aunt Linda and Uncle Joe!), fire and the most beautiful stars I have ever seen for guides in the blackest of nights. In general, Nicaragua has the clearest, most beautiful skies I have observed in my twenty-four years. Essentially, I had formed a youth group in Los Limones within 45 minutes of arriving. It became very clear to me that to segue into any community is going to be through the youth. Prior to this trip I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to work with youth – but it is very evident that I have to work with youth. Even the volunteer that I went to go see mentioned something about it. I feel lucky to have that capacity to connect to children and will definitely utilize this when I get to my community in April.
I slept in one of the ‘beds’ in this adobe building that Ian, one nurse and I were offered to sleep in. The boys both slept in hammocks and graciously I was given the ‘bed’. It was the frame of a typical bed – but only had roped intertwined between each the boards to hold me up. I slept with three shirts, a fleece and a sleeping bag due to the temperature. As people go to bed as the sun goes down when there is an absence of electricity – they also awake as the sun rises. Also, the adobe that I was sleeping in also served as the school for all of the children of the community. So as I awoke, children were entering for ‘class.’ For breakfast, I was served frijoles, tortillas and some sort of meat. I later discovered that it was chopped up pig. Skin, bones – everything. Oh, and hair. Apparently when they kill the pig they are supposed to singe off all of the hair – but essentially I ate hairy pig (while a live pig was less than 5 feet from me staring at me eat his sister). Bon Appétit! Shortly after, I decided I had been waiting too long – it was time to use the bathroom. Did I mention there are no bathrooms in Los Limones? Yea. So basically for the first time I found an arbole (tree) somewhat hidden in the forest and ‘bonded.’ Thankfully I had brought tissues – but it was an experience nonetheless.
After eating, I helped the children with some of their math work and then played one more game of kickball. Upon taking the last sip of one of the liter size bottles of water I had brought – a few of the girls were staring at me (or so I thought). Upon inquiring what they were looking at – I realized they were admiring the empty plastic bottle. One of the girls told me that it was incredibly beautiful – and I asked her if she would like to have it? She acted as though it was too nice of a gift, but I insisted and she eventually accepted. As she held onto it tightly and all of the other children gathered around to look at this recyclable– I had to take a moment to really take it all in. What different worlds we had been given – and yet we were so alike; the beauty of humanity. This to me is why I did the Peace Corps. It is quite different to read about these kinds of communities in Time magazine or view specials on Oprah – than to actually experience it firsthand. To sum it up in one word – humbling.
As I began to pack up my belongings and load up our horses – I started to fill with emotions regarding leaving these children, this town. It was hard to differentiate whether these feelings were due to saying goodbye or getting back on a horse. Probably both. The children all asked if I would ever return – and all I was able to say was maybe. In my heart – I would love to, but I did not want to make an empty promise. Several of them hugged me and then it was mount time again. The ride back was very hot – but I decided that I might as well get a tan while I was riding a horse for 5-6 hours. So while everyone else covered every inch of their skin and wore hats – I rolled up my sleeves and baked. Oh. Also – one way to prove to you all that I am still the Amanda you know and love: I took several pictures of myself while riding through these mountains (just like I would while driving/using the bathroom at a bar, etc.). As we got closer and closer to returning to Cusmapa , I became more and more proud of myself. This trip was so incredibly physically draining – but also emotionally draining. I imagine it is a lot like a marathon run – moments when you don’t feel your body at all, moments when you don’t think you can go any further, and a moment of triumph when completing something so much bigger than yourself.
After paying the renter’s fee for the horses – I took my first shower of the trip, and by far 10 times colder than my host family’s shower. The remainder of the night, Ian and I just talked about Peace Corps, past jobs, and life in general. I feel very fortunate to have been sent to him. For several reasons, including that he is genuinely a really good person, passionate and had a lot of advice for me regarding service. I definitely hope to keep in contact with him.
Now I must point out that what Ian and I did, was not a typical day in a volunteer’s life. Some people go their entire two years without riding a horse – much less for 8 hours in one day. This was only the 4th time that Ian had gone out to this community – but it is the site for his primary project. His project was focused on bettering their water system. Just a quick description: a very, very small trickle of water that goes into a natural trough. This is the only source of water for the entire community. As a result, they use it for everything. To bathe, to wash clothes, to cook, for the animals, etc. His project includes bettering this system to reduce contamination. I think his project is very ambitious (in terms of funding, etc.) but that he will get it done! It was very interesting to see how each volunteer will create and develop his/her own project. When he got to Los Limones he immediately saw the need for a water infiltration system. I immediately saw an opportunity to educate those children. This is such a great example of the different skills and knowledge that each volunteer has to offer a community.
After all was said and done, and we made it back to Cusmapa, I would have jumped right back on that horse the next day to see those children. This experience was one of the most challenging and rewarding ‘field trips’ of my life. On my way back home to El Rosario, I held back tears as I reflected on the enormity of this experience. I was overcome with almost a feeling of guilty, because of how much I have taken for granted in my life.
The next day Ian and I met up with a few other volunteers in Somoto (the capital of Madriz). We went to the cutest little brunch place with whole wheat bread, hummus, Swiss cheese, brie cheese, yoghurt and REAL coffee. That black coffee was heavenly. Here in Nicaragua, even if it is real coffee – they do equal parts sugar and coffee. It actually makes my teeth hurt. The food here was amazing and so cheap. It was a great way to end the entire trip. When we made it back to Managua – I actually had to go to the medical office, so I separated from the rest of the group; hence, the title of the next section.
Don’t let the bed bugs bite…
So I woke up in the middle of the night Tuesday to feel a few bumps on my stomach. I thought they were just random bug bites – and tried to go back to sleep. When I awoke at 4:30am the next morning to catch the bus with Ian, I soon realized many more than just a few bites/bumps on my body. They were now all over my stomach, forearms and back. I put some hydro-cortisone cream on it and tried to stay calm knowing I had a day of at least 7-10 hours of traveling ahead of me. Upon arriving in Esetli, I called the medical office in Managua to tell them what was going on. They suggested coming in for an appointment once I got to Managua. I really did not want to go, but figured this was not…normal. Got to the office around 3pm, meanwhile my rash had spread to my lower legs, neck and butt. More than one doctor came in to look at my Dalmatian looking body and they eventually said they didn’t know what it was and sent me to the hospital. Fabulous. I was well taken care of though- and ‘Don-Douglas’ aka the guy that does everything for the Peace Corps took me to the hospital where I saw a dermatologist. She said that it was allergic reaction to flea/insect bites. I determined that it was Ian’s bed – but it is a possibility that it was from the ‘bed’ in Los Limones also. I was very skeptical of this ‘allergy’ diagnosis, because they all looked like bites. PC booked me a hotel in Managua and told me to stay overnight. I said, “No.” I was out of clean clothes and all I wanted to do was shower and get back to my host-house. Anyway, I got two pills to take and one cream. I did feel well taken care of and I think that the medical care here is amazing. Anyway, today is Wednesday March 4th, 2009 and I am definitely a lot better. There are still a decent amount of bumps on my arms and hands. I am going to give it until Monday and if it is not completely better, I am going to return to the dermatologist. I think rashes are pretty difficult to diagnosis – and it really could have been anything. I guess I just want to make sure that there aren’t any bugs under my skin. Ha. I will keep you all up to date on that. I have been dealing pretty well with just accepting that medical conditions are just going to happen while I am here in Nicaragua.
Please see photos posted on facebook to get a visual of this ‘rash’. Ha
It is very difficult to believe that it has been over one month since I have seen you all. In some ways it feels light-years longer, and in others-like it was just yesterday. I miss you all so much… and I hope you know how often I think of you. This has been a very exciting week and I have a lot to share with you regarding my visit to Cusmapa…sooo let’s get started!
Transportation
Wow. What an experience this was. On Sunday morning, I and five other volunteers boarded a mini-bus to Managua (the capital city) around 7:00am. It took a little bit longer than anticipated and stopped frequently throughout the 1.5 hour ride. Right before our stop, the micro-bus pulled to the side. At first, I thought that someone had dropped something in the front seat – because they were all leaning down towards the floor. Turns out - they had retrieved a screwdriver and were trying to fix some type of mechanical dysfunction. Needless to say, we got out – and got into a taxi for the bus station. All six of us fit into the taxi, which was quite impressive. Within minutes of the bus station – our taxi was… pulled over. Didn’t even know they had ‘radar’ or any type of traffic police in Nicaragua – it was shocking. Apparently the policeman saw he had more than the ‘allowed capacity’ in the taxi and solely wanted to pull the poor guy over to solicit a pay-off. 40 cordobas – or 2 dollars…not too bad for corrupt police action.
We finally made it to the bus station – and ended up making the 8:45am bus to Somoto. The bus ride was generally smooth – only a few moments of terror during the three hours. I was actually able to sleep most of the ride and was sitting with Nico (one of the other volunteers) the whole ride up. After arriving in Somoto – I broke off from the rest of the group and waited about an hour and a half for the next bus up the mountain to Cusmapa. Words of advice from current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) included: being very aggressive when getting on the bus. Boy, were they right. At 1:15pm the colorful school bus from the 80’s pulled up with a significant amount of people already on it. Before the bus was even in park, people were climbing in the emergency exit, shoving people out of their way, frantically trying to get on the bus. I may or may not have elbowed an old man and a little kid to get on the bus.
None the less, I made it on – but there was already standing room only. There was a teenager ‘saving a seat’ for someone – or just not trying to sit with anyone right next to me, and he eventually allowed me to sit down next to him. It was so crammed that I could barely reach into my purse – because of the lack of elbow room. Before heading up the mountain we stopped in various spots to pick up more people and more cargo. To fully explain what that bus ride is like – is impossible to anyone who has not experienced it. Blazing hot. Zero personal space (a woman (who was holding her child) had her butt leaning on my shoulder two out of the three hours). Animals were on board. Approximately 15-20 people on top of the bus. A LOT of bags/cargo. People that live up this mountain, especially in Cusmapa, are completely isolated from stores, food, etc. and therefore come to Somoto for all of these needs. Completely unpaved roads. And straight up that mountain.
The scenery was unbelievable and it was impossible to be bored during this right. Also, impossible to sleep. Bump. City. I made small talk with my seat buddy until his stop – and then spoke with a really nice guy my age that lives in Cusmapa and is studying Anthropolopy. Before I knew it – I had arrived in Cusmapa. I somehow got off the right bus stop in Cusmapa and Ian was there waiting for me! (They blow the horn for about 60 seconds straight to signify its arrival in town). The next part of my transportation began the next morning (Monday), but I feel that it needs its own section.
Save a Horse…
So. For the remainder of Sunday evening – Ian and I chatted about Peace Corps, his experience (challenges, etc.), and he attempted to prepare me for our adventure in the morning. He said that he, I, one doctor and two nurses would be venturing out to two rural communities. By horseback. I shared with him that I had never ridden a horse and that my resume consisted of Newark Labor Day and riding a mechanical bull in Orlando, Florida. He definitely seemed concerned and told me that the trails were very rough and that every time he had gone out to these communities, someone had fallen off their horse. Fabulous pep talk. I am not going to lie – I was scared as all hell and excited at the same time. Well we packed up the medicine – and I headed off into the unknown. Just getting on the horse was intimidating – but apparently watching ‘Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken” dozens of times throughout my life really prepared me for this moment of my life. I mounted perfectly. Ha.
My first real event of horse riding would be winding through the mountains of Nicaragua – on paths that are impassible by anything but horse or walking, crossing a river, and staring over cliffs with nothing standing between me, my burro and the bottomless pits. I quickly bonded with my ‘burro’ (I am pretty sure it was a mule – hard to say for sure though) and he became my best friend for the next 36 hours. I am pretty positive that I had full-out conversations with him – encouraging him, thanking him for not killing me, the norm. He was incredibly sturdy – and enjoyed going at a slower pace. Match made in heaven. They put a lot of weight on my horse – to weigh him down of sorts. Believe it or not – my experience riding a mechanical bull in Orlando, Florida – proved to be very, very useful. It was sort of a crash course in horse-back riding. It’s all in the hips. So, thanks for making me do that Nicole. May have saved my life. Ha.
The paths were treacherous. Several times, we had to get off and walk the horses because it was so steep and dangerous. In total on Monday, I rode a horse for about 8 hours to get to Los Limones. Seriously – 8 hours. Just imagine for a moment how that feels on your tracero (bum). I would have to say that the scariest moment occurred when I looked behind me, to see one of the nurse’s horse fall. She fell off the horse and then the horse fell and landed on her leg. At first, they thought that the horse’s leg was broken – but he was able to get up and keep on truckin’. These trails were not legit by any means. In total between Monday and Tuesday, I rode my burro for over 13 hours. I am almost positive that is more time than I slept during those three days, combined. It is amazing how you find ways to adjust your body to alleviate the pressure on your backside. Nonetheless, I made it to our destination without any major incidents. I was actually quite impressed with myself considering the conditions of these paths. These ‘paths’ including passing over the Rio Negro (Black River), which was actually more rocks than water (it is the dry season here). During the rainy season (winter) this river is completely impassable and various towns are cut off from all resources for 5-6 months. Resources include any medical attention, at all. It was so difficult for me to fathom the fact that these towns had access to medical attention/medicine only three, maybe four times per year. Can you imagine? They live with parasites and diseases; use their own methods to heal cuts and scrapes.
The main reason for going out to these communities is to provide consults and weigh babies. The idea is that there are volunteers or “brigadistias” within the community that keep up with the baby weighing monthly – but this does not always prove to be effective. The point of weighing the babies is obviously to monitor their growth and provide information to the mothers about how to improve the nutrition of their children (most of them are underweight and breastfeeding is sometimes forgone for coffee). It is unbelievable the need for ‘basic’ knowledge about growth/nutrition in these communities. A lot has to do with how isolated they are and just cut off from all resources and a lot of knowledge. They have been living like this for generations and more importantly, they are seemingly very happy/content.
Los Limones
Los Limones is one of those isolated communities that I don’t think us as American’s can really even imagine. In total, there were 18 families living in this isolated, rural, rural community. No stores. No banks. No running water. No electricity. No school. Nada. Upon arriving in Los Limones – I was overwhelmed with pain in my backside and nervousness in speaking with a lot of people with my ‘intermediate-low’ Spanish skills. For the first half hour or so I quietly observed my second viewing of baby-weighing and smiled when people were obviously staring. I sat down next to a girl that looked about 16 years old and eventually introduced myself. Within minutes I was surrounded by at least 25 children. It was as though I was a fresh flower filled with nectar – and was being swarmed by bees. They asked me dozens of questions, including: what is your mom’s name, what is your dad’s name and where are you from? After playing twenty questions – it was then time for a talent show apparently. They asked me to sing, dance, and say really difficult words in Spanish so they could laugh at me. I don’t think they had ever seen a camera or photographs before, and therefore we took countless photos. They invited me to play kickball – and of course I jumped right in. The background to the game was a mountain range in Honduras. The view was unbelievable…I could have stared out there forever.
I forgot for a while that there was no electricity, no water, and that I had not eaten in hours. It was one of those moments in your life when you are completely carefree. I suppose it was a taste of the innocence that childhood beholds. So sweet. I eventually ate a few bites of a freshly made tortilla and utilized my flashlight (thanks Aunt Linda and Uncle Joe!), fire and the most beautiful stars I have ever seen for guides in the blackest of nights. In general, Nicaragua has the clearest, most beautiful skies I have observed in my twenty-four years. Essentially, I had formed a youth group in Los Limones within 45 minutes of arriving. It became very clear to me that to segue into any community is going to be through the youth. Prior to this trip I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to work with youth – but it is very evident that I have to work with youth. Even the volunteer that I went to go see mentioned something about it. I feel lucky to have that capacity to connect to children and will definitely utilize this when I get to my community in April.
I slept in one of the ‘beds’ in this adobe building that Ian, one nurse and I were offered to sleep in. The boys both slept in hammocks and graciously I was given the ‘bed’. It was the frame of a typical bed – but only had roped intertwined between each the boards to hold me up. I slept with three shirts, a fleece and a sleeping bag due to the temperature. As people go to bed as the sun goes down when there is an absence of electricity – they also awake as the sun rises. Also, the adobe that I was sleeping in also served as the school for all of the children of the community. So as I awoke, children were entering for ‘class.’ For breakfast, I was served frijoles, tortillas and some sort of meat. I later discovered that it was chopped up pig. Skin, bones – everything. Oh, and hair. Apparently when they kill the pig they are supposed to singe off all of the hair – but essentially I ate hairy pig (while a live pig was less than 5 feet from me staring at me eat his sister). Bon Appétit! Shortly after, I decided I had been waiting too long – it was time to use the bathroom. Did I mention there are no bathrooms in Los Limones? Yea. So basically for the first time I found an arbole (tree) somewhat hidden in the forest and ‘bonded.’ Thankfully I had brought tissues – but it was an experience nonetheless.
After eating, I helped the children with some of their math work and then played one more game of kickball. Upon taking the last sip of one of the liter size bottles of water I had brought – a few of the girls were staring at me (or so I thought). Upon inquiring what they were looking at – I realized they were admiring the empty plastic bottle. One of the girls told me that it was incredibly beautiful – and I asked her if she would like to have it? She acted as though it was too nice of a gift, but I insisted and she eventually accepted. As she held onto it tightly and all of the other children gathered around to look at this recyclable– I had to take a moment to really take it all in. What different worlds we had been given – and yet we were so alike; the beauty of humanity. This to me is why I did the Peace Corps. It is quite different to read about these kinds of communities in Time magazine or view specials on Oprah – than to actually experience it firsthand. To sum it up in one word – humbling.
As I began to pack up my belongings and load up our horses – I started to fill with emotions regarding leaving these children, this town. It was hard to differentiate whether these feelings were due to saying goodbye or getting back on a horse. Probably both. The children all asked if I would ever return – and all I was able to say was maybe. In my heart – I would love to, but I did not want to make an empty promise. Several of them hugged me and then it was mount time again. The ride back was very hot – but I decided that I might as well get a tan while I was riding a horse for 5-6 hours. So while everyone else covered every inch of their skin and wore hats – I rolled up my sleeves and baked. Oh. Also – one way to prove to you all that I am still the Amanda you know and love: I took several pictures of myself while riding through these mountains (just like I would while driving/using the bathroom at a bar, etc.). As we got closer and closer to returning to Cusmapa , I became more and more proud of myself. This trip was so incredibly physically draining – but also emotionally draining. I imagine it is a lot like a marathon run – moments when you don’t feel your body at all, moments when you don’t think you can go any further, and a moment of triumph when completing something so much bigger than yourself.
After paying the renter’s fee for the horses – I took my first shower of the trip, and by far 10 times colder than my host family’s shower. The remainder of the night, Ian and I just talked about Peace Corps, past jobs, and life in general. I feel very fortunate to have been sent to him. For several reasons, including that he is genuinely a really good person, passionate and had a lot of advice for me regarding service. I definitely hope to keep in contact with him.
Now I must point out that what Ian and I did, was not a typical day in a volunteer’s life. Some people go their entire two years without riding a horse – much less for 8 hours in one day. This was only the 4th time that Ian had gone out to this community – but it is the site for his primary project. His project was focused on bettering their water system. Just a quick description: a very, very small trickle of water that goes into a natural trough. This is the only source of water for the entire community. As a result, they use it for everything. To bathe, to wash clothes, to cook, for the animals, etc. His project includes bettering this system to reduce contamination. I think his project is very ambitious (in terms of funding, etc.) but that he will get it done! It was very interesting to see how each volunteer will create and develop his/her own project. When he got to Los Limones he immediately saw the need for a water infiltration system. I immediately saw an opportunity to educate those children. This is such a great example of the different skills and knowledge that each volunteer has to offer a community.
After all was said and done, and we made it back to Cusmapa, I would have jumped right back on that horse the next day to see those children. This experience was one of the most challenging and rewarding ‘field trips’ of my life. On my way back home to El Rosario, I held back tears as I reflected on the enormity of this experience. I was overcome with almost a feeling of guilty, because of how much I have taken for granted in my life.
The next day Ian and I met up with a few other volunteers in Somoto (the capital of Madriz). We went to the cutest little brunch place with whole wheat bread, hummus, Swiss cheese, brie cheese, yoghurt and REAL coffee. That black coffee was heavenly. Here in Nicaragua, even if it is real coffee – they do equal parts sugar and coffee. It actually makes my teeth hurt. The food here was amazing and so cheap. It was a great way to end the entire trip. When we made it back to Managua – I actually had to go to the medical office, so I separated from the rest of the group; hence, the title of the next section.
Don’t let the bed bugs bite…
So I woke up in the middle of the night Tuesday to feel a few bumps on my stomach. I thought they were just random bug bites – and tried to go back to sleep. When I awoke at 4:30am the next morning to catch the bus with Ian, I soon realized many more than just a few bites/bumps on my body. They were now all over my stomach, forearms and back. I put some hydro-cortisone cream on it and tried to stay calm knowing I had a day of at least 7-10 hours of traveling ahead of me. Upon arriving in Esetli, I called the medical office in Managua to tell them what was going on. They suggested coming in for an appointment once I got to Managua. I really did not want to go, but figured this was not…normal. Got to the office around 3pm, meanwhile my rash had spread to my lower legs, neck and butt. More than one doctor came in to look at my Dalmatian looking body and they eventually said they didn’t know what it was and sent me to the hospital. Fabulous. I was well taken care of though- and ‘Don-Douglas’ aka the guy that does everything for the Peace Corps took me to the hospital where I saw a dermatologist. She said that it was allergic reaction to flea/insect bites. I determined that it was Ian’s bed – but it is a possibility that it was from the ‘bed’ in Los Limones also. I was very skeptical of this ‘allergy’ diagnosis, because they all looked like bites. PC booked me a hotel in Managua and told me to stay overnight. I said, “No.” I was out of clean clothes and all I wanted to do was shower and get back to my host-house. Anyway, I got two pills to take and one cream. I did feel well taken care of and I think that the medical care here is amazing. Anyway, today is Wednesday March 4th, 2009 and I am definitely a lot better. There are still a decent amount of bumps on my arms and hands. I am going to give it until Monday and if it is not completely better, I am going to return to the dermatologist. I think rashes are pretty difficult to diagnosis – and it really could have been anything. I guess I just want to make sure that there aren’t any bugs under my skin. Ha. I will keep you all up to date on that. I have been dealing pretty well with just accepting that medical conditions are just going to happen while I am here in Nicaragua.
Please see photos posted on facebook to get a visual of this ‘rash’. Ha
And much more
I have a lot more to tell you all, but I want to finish this blog up so I can post something new for you all today. In 12 days we will be receiving our site placements!!! I am so, so very excited to find out where I will be living for the next two years. I decided my ‘ideal’ site is a medium to small sized town, with access to rural communities, focus on HIV/Youth, in the mountains and access to fruits and veggies. Ha. I could get the total opposite – but we shall see! I am feeling pretty flexible and open regarding my site – with the only exception being that I do not want a huge site (one site has over 300,000 people)! Tomorrow I have my last interview with the woman, Pilar, who decides which site we go to and also my language interview so determine if I have improved at all. Here’s hoping…
To say that I miss my parents is the biggest understatement possible. I MISS YOU SO MUCH!!! I feel so lucky that I was able to spend so much time with you before I left, but at the same time – it makes it a little harder now without you. You two truly are my motivation, my strength…my heroes. Your selfless acts throughout my life have been the best examples I will ever witness of service, commitment and kindness. You embody the Peace Corps values and raised me to accept everyone in this world as a human, a person before any race, religion or ethnicity. I am so lucky and so thankful to have you behind me during these two years – I hope you know how much I appreciate you.
Thank you to everyone who has continued to support me during this transition time into my new life here in Nicaragua. Your e-mails, letters and messages mean 100 times more than you can even imagine!
I will write more about the possible sites in my next blog! I love you all so much <3