Greetings loves of my life. I hope all is well and that everyone had a good St. Patrick’s Day. I received my site assignment and I will be living in Posoltega, Chinandega for the next two years. This site was definitely one of my top choices and I was elated to receive the news of this site assignment. It is the only site of our group that is brand new – and part of my interest in this site was the opportunity to develop my own projects and introduce the Peace Corps to a new community. Everyone went immediately on a site visit with their colegas (counterparts) and I just returned from my visit to Posoltega and after a long week I have a LOT to tell you all.
Counterpart Day
Friday the 20th we had a ‘Dia de Colegas’ in Managua to meet our ‘counterparts’ that we will be working with for the next two years. As I looked through the crowd of people for the name tag(s) that said ‘Posoltega’, I eventually found the two women that would become my colleagues. It was a very exciting moment and we had about four group hugs to start our union. The rest of the day was filled with group work and explanations of Peace Corps, etc. My two counterparts were very funny and it seemed to be a great start to a professional relationship.
After a full day we all parted for the bus station with the other four volunteers that will be serving in the department of Chinandega. One of the colegas from the city of Chinandega was smitten and decided to practically lick my face and told me I had to visit Chinandega. Fab. Anyway, I have two volunteers from my group fairly close to me – one in the city of Chinandega and the other in Corinto. Craig and Evan. They are both about an hour or so away. Posoltega happens to be the closest site to Managua (where any of my fabulous visitors will be flying into!!!). It takes approximately 3.5 hours (others, such as; a few of my favorite people in the group in Rio San Juan, are 12-15 hours away) to get to from Managua. It is also close to the large cities of Leon and Chinandega (30 minutes each). Anyway, I arrived in Posoltega about 8:00pm on Friday evening.
While entering the town, it appeared pretty similar to my training town in the dim light that was available at the late hour. Roads were pretty horrible right around my house, but the taxi made it finally to the destination, a.k.a. my home for the first 6 weeks in my site (and also the home of my colega). My program director had already told me that the ‘psychologist’ that I would be living with was ‘very nice..but lived in a very humble home.’ With this sentence echoing in my mind, I entered the house. It was a generally nice living room area, with a television and a stereo. As we continued through the living room, we exited the house to the part with the rooms (it is actually separate from the house). Upon entering my room the host mom/colega told me that the only thing the room didn’t have was ….a floor. As I looked at my floor of dirt/mud I tried to keep a straight face. I vaguely remembered reading in the Peace Corps Handbook that we were not allowed to have a dirt floor – and for that reason among others, it was a little shocking. There were two twin size wooden beds in the room and… nothing else. I placed my things in the room and immediately returned to the living room area. We ate a modest dinner of platanos and rice at their table as the family asked me questions about my life in the States.
The family has a pair of twin girls, Guadalupe and Marisela and a fifteen year old boy, Jesus. The family was very welcoming and incredibly sweet. The two 9 year old girls and I ended up having a little dance party for my welcoming. I have discovered here that dancing really is without limits of language, culture, etc. Dance is a culture in its own and it is… universal. I love it. Just dance… my philosophy on life (no credit to Lady GaGa). After an intense dance sesh, I went to my room to grab my bottle of water. As I entered and turned on the light, I saw the largest rodent I have ever seen in my life. Literally. A rat or ‘raton’ was crawling right along the top part of the walls of my room. I somehow contained myself not to scream or make any dramatic responses to this finding. I simply grabbed my bottle of water and returned to my dance session. Not long after, I went to bed on the mattress thinner than a good sandwich. My parents called me quite late this night, and I have to say that it was the highlight of my day. Even if I was upset about rats and dirt floor – getting a drunk dial from my mother made everything okay. Due to this phone call and exhaustion I did not have that difficult of a time sleeping this night (for the record, I just saw a mouse in my room here in El Rosario – and simply let it out the door like a guest. Funny how perceptions change).
Hot in Herrr
So. I awoke around 7am, which apparently is considered late in this household. Everyone else was up at 6am. On a Saturday. Seriously? Anyway, I made it a productive morning and ended up cooking. I expressed that I needed to learn to cook since I will be living by myself for the majority of the two years. Guadalupe, the mother/colega, took me to the ‘meat shop’ to purchase ‘rez’ or cow. It was beyond disgusting and I saw parts of a cow that I never wanted to see in my life. Beyond that, the amount of flies and bugs surrounded all of this exposed meat, blood and bones was astonishing. Yummy. Anyway, I cooked sopa de rez (soup with cow meat) and it turned out pretty nice. I am confident in my ability to figure out cooking for myself when I move out. Everything just might be vegetarian.
My host family asked if I wanted to go to the pool and I was all for it because it is blazing hot there. After our hot, meat filled soup for breakfast we suited up for the ‘pool’. They told me we would be going by bike and I was all for it. Something about riding a bike really makes me feel like a kid again. That is, until you are walking awkwardly the next day because your backside hurts so badly. Why doesn’t that happen when you are a kid? Anyway, we went on this fabulous ‘path’ to the ‘pool’, during which I screamed a few times due to feeling like I was on X-games. We finally made it to the ‘pool’ a.k.a….a river. A cement foundation had been put in at the bottom of this river to contain the water and create a pool like atmosphere. As we were walking down these cement stairs to the river/pool, my flip-flop got stuck on one of the steps and I…fell. Got some pretty sweet scrapes on both of my feet and one of my shins and quickly learned that gnats/bugs like blood. Luckily, the river kind of helped that healing process along pretty quickly. Other than the fall, the river was great – not all that dirty, and very refreshing. There were approximately 10 boys there drinking and smoking, but I tried to ignore them and fascinated my family with my handstand abilities. After about three hours in the pool (straight.. I didn’t get out once), we headed back to the house. They asked me if I wanted to take the longer way back, to get to know a different path. After getting over the fact that, a) they called that a path and b) there was a longer path, I told them that I would prefer to take the shorter one back. Ha.
After showering in our fabulous outside shower (with warm water, ironically) I attempted to do some reading, but quickly found myself passed out in the face of this overwhelming heat. I took a little nap and then went to the Internet café that strangely exists in this town. It has about 6 computers and decent speed. I then returned to eat dinner, which consisted of…rice. I was actually craving frijoles/beans by the end of this trip. After dinner, my host mom decided to tell me her love-life story. I will save you the details, but basically – she admitted that she was bulimic, alcoholic and depressed about a year ago when one of her boyfriends left her. She is currently ‘better’ and seriously dating a…married man. It was at that moment I wished I knew less Spanish and could have pretended I didn’t understand what she was saying. She also went on to warm me about various neighbors in the community. Sweet dreams. I went to bed incredibly early almost every night in Posoltega because of sheer exhaustion. As I snuggled into my crispy thin mattress on my wooden bench-like bed frame, I saw some more ‘friends’. This time though…they were ratas or mice. Smaller, yet almost equally as upsetting because they were crawling up the wall right near my head. I slept on and off this night randomly using the flash light on my cell phone to search for mice in the middle of the night. I actually felt a little crazy.
Thank GOD it’s Sunday…literally.
So it quickly was apparent to me that this town is quite religious. Whenever anyone asks ‘how are you’ the response is, ‘I am good thank the lord.’ Furthermore, anything good that happens is given the same response. The majority of my town is Evangelical, which is more strict that Catholicism here. Gracias a Dios. I was already invited to church and will probably go just for the experience, but it will be interesting to see how this plays a role in my service.
My family invited me to go to a neighboring town to see ‘abuelita’ or their grandmother. We went by taxi, but then had to walk over 2 miles to get to her house because the roads are not passable by car. This town was equally as humble and impoverished, but much smaller. The family business of my host family is a candy they make from the sugar canes that grow on their farms. So for the next five hours I watched them make this candy. The process of making this candy was very similar to that of making fudge. If anyone has ever been to that fudge place in Baltimore where they make it right in front of you – it was a 3rd world country version of it. Meaning that they were using large wooden planks to pour the hot caramel-like substance on to and sticks to stir it while it was heating. Oh, and also – there were hundreds of flies all over the candy. Vom-it. It looked so good, but it was impossible to ignore the amount of bacteria that was more than likely on each piece. None the less it was a nice experience in terms of observing how it is made (it is literally the major/ sole source of economy for this community). We were there for far, far too long. I ended up taking a nap on a hammock mid-day (this is going to be a common theme for me).
We eventually left and started the two mile walk back to the main road. On the way there, my counterpart told me that a Peace Corps volunteer lived in this community. We found out where and I was able to stop and talk to her for a while. Her name is Paula and she is an environmental volunteer from the state of Virginia. She has a cute little house in one of the rural communities of Posoltega. Basically my town has about 3,500 people in the urban center and then another 22 communities surrounding it. In total in the municipality there are about 17,000 people. Paula has a sweet little garden in her yard and I am definitely looking forward to some mentoring in eventually starting my own garden. We also talked about possibly working together on potential projects, because she has a lot of interest in HIV/AIDS education/prevention as well. After my host mom/colega asked her to borrow her deodorant I thought it was time to leave. It was definitely nice to speak to someone in English, even if for a few minutes and I definitely look forward to getting to know her better and working together.
I cannot say for sure how I was feeling on Sunday. Lack of independence. ‘Stuck’. Slightly disappointed about my living conditions. Scared of rats. Exhausted from only speaking Spanish. Mal-nourished. Not working. Well the combination of factors started to pile up throughout the day and I started speaking less and less to my host family. As I got ready for bed around 9:00pm, I looked at my phone and realized I had a missed call from my parents. I called them back immediately and we got to speak for about 20 minutes or so. Within minutes of starting the conversation with them, I saw a mouse crawl up the wall near the head of my bed. I was so overwhelmed with feelings that I burst into tears, trying to explain to my parents how I felt. It was the first time in this experience the thought ran through my head ‘What the hell am I doing here??’ It’s not as though I had incredibly high expectations of Posoltega, I just had no idea what I was getting myself into. Our training towns, although very different from the United States, are catered to aiding us through the ‘transition period’ and it became more and more clear to me that our training towns do not represent what the reality of life is here in Nicaragua. After speaking to my parents, I cried myself to sleep…but still holding on the hope that tomorrow would be better when I started work.
Walk it out…
Monday morning I went to a comedor (basically this is someone’s house that serves as restaurant as well) for breakfast and had the best food I had gotten since I had been there. More than anything, it was just nice to be by myself for a few minutes, eat and read the newspaper. Something so simple, yet sacred. My host mom/counterpart and I arrive at the Health Center around 7:45am. (I will primarily be working with MINSA (the ministry of health) here in Nicaragua). My primary counterpart is the one that I am not going to be living with,Sozima, who is the Community Educator in the health center. There was an awkward moment when Guadalupe (host mom) wanted Sozima (primary counterpart) to introduce me to everyone, and she…wouldn’t. Ha. Guadalupe went on to tell me that Sozima is apparently very lazy. Fabulous. Still trying to stay positive. The Director of the health center ended up calling a ‘staff meeting’ to introduce me. About 25 nurses and doctors crowded into their auditorium (I must say, that their health center is gorgeous). Before starting, my host mother led everyone in a prayer (did I mention it was religious here?). Each person introduced themselves, and I pretended to write down some names (names are really difficult here). They then asked me if I wanted to say anything, somehow I whip something up and sounded pretty damn good. Just that I was excited to work with all of them and to serve Posoltega.
The morning went better than expected, and then Sozima asked me to come along to salida (to a rural community) to visit one of her patients. Nurses and Doctors piled into the MINSA truck and we began to set out to the more rural communities. These roads looked like scenes out of an Indiana Jones movie. It was incredible that these were the only paths reaching some of these communities. We went to various communities to drop off the medical staff at the health posts (smaller health centers in more rural communities). Eventually, we made it to the patient that my counterpart was going to check on. Apparently TB is a really big problem here and a lot of her work is working with these patients. My counterpart was incredibly confused at times, forgetting what Peace Corps was, and introducing me as a nurse to everyone we met. Licensing here is quite funny. If you have a degree in psychology, you are a psychologist. If you worked as tutor, you are a teacher. Needless to say, I am qualified for many things here – criminologist, nurse, lawyer, teacher. The most interesting side trip we took was to ‘Radio Emanuel’ the only local radio station in Posoltega. It is..religious, of course. But it was incredibly interesting; it is run by an American and his Nica-wife. This American Emanuel, was apparently in a plane accident and is now confined to a wheelchair. His wife was incredibly sweet, and her beauty reminded me of Frida Kahlo. I will definitely be returning to this house and it could potentially be part of a future project.
So I quickly learned that everyone works at the health center from 8-11:30ish. That’s it. I figured we would go home from lunch and … return. Nope. That’s it. I ate lunch at the comedor again and happened to be sitting next to a meeting going on about a ‘taller’ or workshop happening tomorrow. As I sat their eating my chicken and listening I heard random works of interest. Eventually I got into their conversation and they asked me what I would be doing here in Posoltega and for how long, etc. They explained to me they were part of a NGO called ‘Programma Amor’ which worked to improve the development of children and women’s rights. They invited me to the workshop the next day and even asked me for ideas for games or ‘dynamicas’ to use during the taller. It was very exciting – and I was looking forward to attending the workshop. After lunch, I went home and changed my clothes to walk around by myself and try to get to know the community. Also, Peace Corps has us fill out several forms (emergency form locater, etc.) and one of them included a map of our community. It was really nice to walk alone and say hi to everyone that walked by me. I attempted to make a map of the community and eventually ran into two people I had met at the pool on Saturday. A boy and his older sister, Kenya, who is the same age as me. They invited me into their home I spoke with their entire family. They gave me a beverage and some bread as they asked me questions about my job and the United States. We then walked around the community for another hour or so and they helped me correct some errors on my map. They were incredibly sweet. Kenya taught herself English and loves trying to speak it to me. My only request was that she can speak English to me, but I can only speak Spanish to her. She got a degree in ‘Computacion’ at a University in Leon, but has not been able to find a job. We made plans to cook the next day after the workshop/taller and I returned to my host house feeling worlds better than the night before. To top it off, I got the opportunity to watch the epic film of… Daddy Yankee. It was sad how much I enjoyed this movie, seriously. If this isn’t an example of the limited entertainment I have been exposed to here, I don’t know what is.
Integrating…
I went to the workshop at 8am by myself, because my counterpart said she wasn’t able to go. As soon as I got there, the three people I had met the day before came up to me and asked me to start the workshop off with a dynamica. As I stood there like a deer in headlights, I decided I did not feel comfortable in doing this. There were going to be approximately 75 women of Posoltega and surrounding communities in this workshop – I wanted to first observe before I dove into something far over my head. As the workshop was getting started, Jonathon, the guy in charge, came up to me to tell me that my counterpart/host-mom was on the phone for me. She told me to go to the health center because the director wanted me to go out to a very rural community to get to know it. I was incredibly pissed off, because I had already talked to my host-mom and she made it seem that it was fine that I was going to the workshop. I walked about a half mile to the health center only to see my other counterpart, who told me to go back to the workshop and that it was important that I get that experience. En serio? (this is my favorite Spanish saying which means..seriously). I walked back to the workshop and stayed for the remainder of the day.
Did I mention I thought a ‘taller’ was about three hours or a half day? It was 8 hours. The bulk of the day was about child development and an hour or less was on family planning methods. Whether the whole day was relevant or not to my future work – I think it was relevant to my integration into the community. I participated in the group work with the educators and volunteers. During the lunch hour, I walked back to the health center to talk to the director. Due to frustration, I felt it necessary to explain to her that I would not be in the health center every day (especially if there is no work), and that my job the first three months was to integrate into the community and get to know all parts of the community. She seemed to respond well and I followed it up by asking what role she saw me filling at the Health Center. She said that it was up to me, but that forming youth groups and pregnancy groups were a goal of hers as well. I felt better after speaking to the director about the miscommunication (lesson #8 observed on this trip).
The women in the taller were simply amazing and inspiring. After returning from lunch hour (which consisted of Ritz crackers), several women started asking me questions and they happened to be the women of the urban center of Posoltega. After the taller, we walked back together into town. An 18 year old girl, Hilda, offered to walk me around later to get to know the town better. I said later was perfect, because it was already after the time I said I would be at Kenya’s house to cook! I practically ran to her house and apologized for my tardiness. I explained my misunderstanding of how long a taller was and that I did not intend to keep her waiting. It was a non-issue for them and their main concern was whether I was hungry or not. I figured they were asking because we were about to cook, but no – she ran down the street to buy me taquitos and a little salad (which here consists of coleslaw and ketchup). I inhaled the taquitos and gave the salad to the little brother. It is amazing how much people love cream, mayo, salt, sugar and oil here. We ended up scratching the cooking idea, and just sat and talked for about two hours. Kenya, her sister Amanda and I talked about politics, my job at Brandywine counseling, drug problems in Posoltega, Amanda shared that she has a tumor in her head and had to stop going to school (she is only 16 years old), Kenya talked about feeling different than everyone else her age because she is not married nor does she have children, and much much more. It was the best conversation I have had in Nicaragua. I learned so much throughout the conversation, about Posoltega, and even more so about Kenya and Amanda. During such a difficult time economically in the United States, it is difficult to think about the suffering of other countries. As poor as our economy is in the United States right now, as high as unemployment is – we will never be on the same level of disparity as other countries. The U.S. economy affects the entire world’s economy. Just because other countries don’t have as far to fall – doesn’t mean they aren’t hurting equally or more as us. The pure lack of opportunities here is astonishing. Something I never fathomed before. I left this conversation feeling both inspired and humbled. Also, when I left they gave me two packets of delisoya (aka the only source of milk I will drink here), bread and raisons from their pulperia. I tried to offer them money for their kindness, but they refused. Their welcoming was so comforting at a time when nothing was familiar.
I went on a walk with Hilda right afterwards and we walked the entire community several times (I am going to get in shape quickly here). Although younger, she carries very similar characteristics of Kenya. She is in her second year of studying law in Leon, is not married nor does she have children. Her dream is to go to the United States. She and I talked for hours during our walk – and she is very sweet and intelligent. She introduced me to some of her friends and made sure I knew which each building was in town. She also shared with me that she feels ‘different’ from everyone else her age and in the community because she is not married with children. She talked about how she identified these as obstacles to achieving her goal of being a lawyer. It was incredibly inspiring to hear from another young woman in the community who dared to take a different path than the majority of her peers. I can definitely already see beautiful friendships forming with both Hilda and Kenya.
I already have made it a point to express my interest in finding my own house after the first six weeks in my community (it is a requirement of Peace Corps). I feel that even though I have returned to my training town, there are several people in my town helping me find more comfortable housing. Oh yea, because I also made it very clear that I need to have some type of floor in my room/living area.
I ended the day with a 46 cordoba (over two dollars!!) conversation with Nico, my friend from Minnesota. He and I talked about the already identified obstacles in our communities and with our counterparts. It was nice to be able to talk to someone going through the same experience. I told him of my mice and rat friends, and right before my minutes ran out on my cell phone – the last thing he said to me was ‘mice are very mobile.’ Night night. Having minutes on my phone will definitely be essential to my service and sanity throughout these two years. It is bizarre how their cell phone system works – it works out to be more expensive to call within Nicaragua than the United States.
Yo Soy…
Wednesday was dedicated to introducing me to the important people of the community. Sozima went around with me this day and the first stop was the high school to speak to the director. I spoke with Sozima prior to leaving that it was important that she not introduce me as a nurse or a lawyer anymore. The first stop was … less than perfect. The school itself was incredibly beautiful and clean. As we entered the director/principal’s office, the radio was blaring. I wrongfully assumed that the radio would be turned down during this conversation. Despite the immense background noise, the director seemed excited and welcomed me into the school to help with health education. Then it got a little messy. He went on to explain the foundation of the buildings and the lack of activities for the kids to do on the campus and several ideas he had for projects with my ‘american money’. Ha. Rewind. Apparently Sozima’s explanation of what Peace Corps is was not sufficient for him. I explained a little further that we were not an organization of money and that I certainly did not have mula. I guess I can’t blame him for trying. Another lesson learned. The remaining introductions were all prefaced with a detailed explanation of what Peace Corps is, human and technical assistance – not financial. The remainder of the introductions went very, very well. So many of the woman hugged me so tightly and clearly incredibly excited to have another person on their team – trying to better their children’s future. My favorite organization was definitely movimiento de las mujeres, a women’s rights organization. They gave me a substantial amount of information about their organization and were more than ready to let me be part of it. They do workshops on Domestic Violence, Family Planning and many more things that are right up my alley. There are countless opportunities for project partners in Posoltega and I am very excited to see how they all develop.
The remainder of the afternoon was used to wash (by hand!) all of my clothes. I worked very hard to wring out my sopping wet clothes – reopening blisters from my bike outing; only to see that in less than one hour even my heaviest clothes were bone-dry. That is how hot it is there. I took my second shower of the day and decided to go to the Internet Café. I was so fortunate to get to speak with John, Kimmy, Liz, Megan and several more of my favorites via g-chat or facebook chat. It was exactly what I needed. Hilda and I went on another walk, even further outside of the main part of town. As I told her I would be leaving the next day to return to my training town – she told me that she could not wait until I would be returning. I assured her that I was and that there would be two years for countless walks. That night we had a random, heavy rainstorm. On a tin roof this sounded… less than soothing. I was up for the majority of that hour or so.
Thursday I went to the health center only to do… nothing. So I decided to head back to my training town a little earlier than planned. I was told that I could get a bus to Leon right in town on every hour. This proved to be very false – as I waiting from 9:45-12:00pm for a bus. At noon it finally arrived and I went on to Leon. Leon has been talked about as a very touristy place, but I did not get that feeling as I wandered the streets. It takes about 45 minutes or less to get there, and it has all the fruits and veggies I could ever want. Now I just have to buy a fridge at some point to keep these fruits and veggies. After wandering around for a while, I got on a bus to Managua and then from Managua to Jinotepe. I was incredibly excited to return to something somewhat familiar and to my little three year old host-sister. Missed all fifty pounds of her.
Random thoughts…
After returning and being able to reflect both within myself and with others in my group – it is clear to me that everyone is going to have challenges in their sites. I am the only person in our group that has a dirt floor in their room. This will prove to be a challenge – if for nothing else than staying clean. It is not possible. I would get out of the shower and then immediately end up dirty just from trying to get dressed in my room. I did speak with my Program Manager about this and she said that she and a PC Doctor went out to the house to make sure it was okay – and they found it fit to live in. I told her that she probably didn’t see the rats and mice. Nonetheless, it is something that I am going to have to deal with – and I did not sign up for the Peace Corps expecting to live in a high-class apartment. She did tell me that she is going to talk to the Program Director to see if I can move out after four weeks in my host family, as opposed to the rule of six weeks.
So, one of the biggest ‘culture shock’ moments during the trip wasn’t even the dirt floor. In actuality, it was viewing one of the neighbor’s children. There was a little boy about a year and a half, maybe two years old. 75 percent of the time I saw him, he was completely naked. He is also a paraplegic and only has the use of his arms. Therefore he used his arms to hoist himself around the dirt floor and roads, completely naked. No one was watching this child – no one was looking out for his safety. Needless to say, there are not many cars in my town – but just the lack of concern for this poor child made me so, so sad.
So three things that will be essential to my two years in Posoltega will be: a fan, a bike, and a … cloth. Due to the amount of dust and random things flying through the air – everyone carries a cloth around. To brush off their seats, cover their face, wipe their sweat. Multi-purpose cloth. I am debating on whether to buy a new or used bike. There is only about a 200 cordoba difference – we’ll see. Fan. Beyond essential. Kinda want one of those water sprayer pumps that my parents used at the beach. I would use it every day. Make-up will likely not be used once during these two years. Ha.
For some reason everyone in the town thinks that I am from Spain when they meet me. I guess I will take that as a compliment since it can't be a bad thing about my spanish skills! :)
Latrines are going to take a little bit of time to get used to (my impression is that there are not toilets in any homes in Posoltega). The smell is just … indescribable. I try and hold my nose, but you don’t want to taste what’s going on in there either.
Probably my favorite thing about my host family’s house is the shower. It is three walls, with no ceiling. But there is something empowering and exciting about showering outside. Ha. Looking up and seeing the sky, maybe even getting a tan during your shower. Eureka! Why didn’t I think about this?
Sick Girl…
So today is Sunday the 28th and I have been violently ill all weekend. Fever, vomiting and diarrhea…again. Vomiting was the worst part of this one. I kinda just diagnosed myself and started taking an antibiotic Friday night before I even started vomming. I feel incredibly weak right now, but other than that I am much, much better. It is beyond annoying to be that ‘sick girl’ and my host-mom here is so less than supportive. An example of this would be her saying to Hana last night, “Can you imagine Amanda living by herself in her site?” Thanks for that. The ironic part is – that I am likely getting sick from her cooking. Oh well, I just feel bad for my stomach – it is going to be a long two years if this continues at a once a month rate. Just keep on truckin... I know I can!
Well I love you all! I am getting two packages on Wednesday!!! Can’t wait to see what they are. I Am praying they are my girl scout cookies!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Estoy viviendo
Hola loved ones. It is 2:15pm on Wednesday. I just wanted to write and let you all know that I am doing okay after a couple rough days in the beginning of my visit to Posoltega. Nothing major, just a dirt floor and some rats (all of this is about my room). I will definitely go into more detail when I get back to my training town, but I just wanted to update you and let you know that I am okay and I am feeling very optomistic about my life here in Posoltega for the next two years. I have already established two friendships with girls in the community, made a community map, introduced myself to every important person in the town and much much more. This town is incredibly poor and there definitely is a lot of work to be done - and I am looking forward to getting started!
I hope everyone is well and that you had a fabuloso birthday kimmy. wish i could have been with you!
will post a longer blog about my visit this weekend.
lots and lots of love,
amanda
I hope everyone is well and that you had a fabuloso birthday kimmy. wish i could have been with you!
will post a longer blog about my visit this weekend.
lots and lots of love,
amanda
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
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
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
Friday, February 20, 2009
End of the Honeymoon Phase.
Hi everyone and Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day! It has been an….eventful week for me here in Nicaragua and I have a lot to catch you up on. Most of this week I would like to forget, but I feel it necessary that you all know the good things and the not-so good things about this new life of mine. So I am going to just jump right into it.
(Before I forget: if I have not called you yet and/or you want to hear from me -> e-mail me your phone numbers).
Principals Office, Vaccines and No Mula
So as I told you in the last blog, I went to Catarina two weekends ago with five other volunteers. What I may or may not have mentioned about this trip was that we were in the back of Braden’s Dad’s pick-up truck (for the record: I did not know this was the travel arraignment until we were already getting into the truck). Anyway, this is beyond common here – and although it is clearly not safe, I felt it was no less safe than riding in one of the micro-buses that has a window being held up by a hair tie.
At our tech charla/meeting this past Friday the entire group received a ‘lecture’ regarding spending time in your training towns, not riding in the back of trucks and not leaving your department. Although it had been explicitly outlined that we are not permitted to ride ‘motos’/motorcycles, it has not been clear about the truck rule. Also, blame it on lack of geography – but none of us had any idea that we had left our department. It was only about 30 minutes and seemed harmless. Obviously, no one got into trouble and it was more of a ‘general announcement’, but none the less – it happened. After I received a TB Booster and Rabies vaccine, I went and talked to the ‘Master Trainer’ about the situation and apologized. Lesson Learned. Their biggest concern was obviously our safety and also that we should not be hanging out with other volunteers on the weekend (and speaking English)– we should be spending time with our host families (which I do more than enough of).
Our banking was set up by Peace Corps and we received a debit card to retrieve our weekly ‘salary’ (which varies from 350-450 cordobas depending on travel needs, or about $20 U.S. dollars). When I left the charla on Friday, I took 300 cordobas out of the ATM and Hana and I took a micro-bus to Jinotepe to use the internet. When I went to pay for the cyber, I realized I did not have any money and my change purse was nowhere to be found. Now to say what exactly happened is impossible. I have heard stories of people getting pick-pocketed or robbed without even knowing it – and yes, it is a possibility. It is also a possibility that I just dropped the change purse – who knows. Regardless, it was very upsetting when combined with other factors of the day (me STILL not receiving my packages from my parents that have been in Nicaragua for over a week, the internet not working while I was trying to talk to my parents, group frustration, etc.). Hana handled the situation very well and was incredibly supportive and spotted me some cords (cordobas) to pay for my internet and get home.
In the big spectrum, not that big of a deal – I was safe, it really wasn’t that much money (less than 20 american dollars), etc. But when you combine a bunch of little things with homesickness, they seem bigger. Anyway, I called one of the training people and they were very supportive and the next day one of them gave me 300 cordobas. They originally told me I had to go the police station and file a report in Jinotepe to get reimbursement from the Peace Corps – but I found out today that I just had to fill out a form – which is awesome. Ironically, in the package my parents had sent me was a purse with zipper and such – which I would have been using instead of my Nike (open) back-pack. Such is life.
V-Day in Nica
Although I do love Valentine’s Day – it was basically just another day here. I did just receive your card today Stacey!! (2/18) It was such a sweet surprise and I am so proud of you! I did receive two gifts – including a bottle of wine from Hana and a teddy bear from my host brother! Both were so thoughtful and sweet. It was our first Saturday that we had a PC charla – and it was on cultural adaptation. Very ironically, we were asked to rate our moods that day for the past three weeks (mine was in the negative range of the chart at that moment). The charla was nice though and had ample timing considering my crappy week – because it talked about the highs and lows of culture shock/adaptation. Some people went through their ‘low’ during week one – so at least I made it to week 3 – 4! Things will only get better…(so I thought)….
After the charla, a bunch of us went to the pool and that was very nice to just bask in the sun. Later that day I had a slight temperature and was feeling pretty nauseas, but after a dance session with my three-year old Nica sister, Ruby – I decided to accept the invitation to go out with Hana and her uncle. We went to the restaurant he owns in our town, El Rosario. We hung out with some people in the restaurant and drank some Toña, Nica-Beer.
Later, they all decided we should go out dancing – so at about 10:30 we went to the pool, which is also restaurant/discoteca (very few buildings here serve only one purpose). It was packed with lovers and couples – which was fine by me, I love watching people dance traditional Nica/Hispanic dances. I did have my first dance with a Nicaraguan – it was less than exciting. Ha. He was a worse dancer than me! Oh, and the whole time he was asking me if I had a boyfriend in the United States. Blah. I really did not want to stay out very late, but everyone else did. I got home at 2:30am (and don’t have a key to my house – so I had to call my mom to let me in), when in reality I was ready for bed by midnight. All in all it was an interesting Dia de San Valentin.
Perros
So dogs here are quite … frequent. Bob Barker should definitely consider doing an outreach here to have dogs neutered and spade. It is not abnormal to witness a street fight of 10-15 dogs. It is incredibly scary but I seem to be the only one concerned. The same way I am incredibly offended when I see two dogs ‘getting busy’ on the street corner in front of the park – it seems that everyone else doesn’t even notice. Dogs here are not seen as pets. Most decide to have a dog in order for protection, a ‘security-system’ more or less. Basically here I am not a fan of dogs, which is so opposite of me in Estados Unidos (the US).
Which brings me to the point that OMG I MISS WESTY, my perrito. During the days before I left and I was trying not to spend money – and getting in as much television and movies as I could (p.s. How is Lost!?! Miss it), I spent soooo much time with her. My parents tell me that she still looks for me in the house. I would pay some serious cordobas to just hug my little puppy. Ah. December.
Class
The dynamics of the group are getting much, much better and all of the problemas have been addressed. Every three weeks our language facilitator changes and it was actually quite sad to have our first one leave us – Nidia, she was incredible. FYI: I taught her ‘That’s what she said’ in Spanish. It was fabuloso. Our new language facilitator is quite ‘different’ from Nidia – but I am trying to remain open to different teaching styles. This week due to all of my crap happening – I do feel that my language has not improved great lengths. I hope to reverse that this next week hopefully. The entire set up of training is very reminiscent of Study Abroad: six hours of class a day, host family, with 20 other Americans throughout the week, etc. Everything is very structured and planned out – which I feel is the opposite of a volunteer’s experience. Training is very necessary – but I do much look forward to my actual service.
24…not the show
So, this section is not for people with weak stomachs – although it will be censored. Monday night I went to bed around 9:30pm (which is late for my standards here in Nica), when I was awoken at 11:00pm from a loud rumble. No. It wasn’t an earthquake. It was my stomach. By 6:00am the next morning I had had diarrhea 8 times. I spoke with my host-mom when she woke up to tell her what was going on. I didn’t have any minutes (“saldo” see telephone section) and neither did my mom. So she went to buy some at 7:00 when the closest pulperia opened. The medical officer told me to go to the nearest town, Jinotepe, and give a stool sample (seriously) and for blood work. One positive out of this entire situation that I will say about Nicaragua is – damn their medical stuff is fast. I was in and out of the lab within 5 minutes. Stool sample and all. In the U.S. that would have been half of my day.
So we wait to hear back from the medical officers with the results as I continue to worsen. My fever is around 101 degrees and the frequency of bathroom visits is increasing. Even more than that – the amount of pain in my stomach was truly indescribable. I may have had a conversation with my stomach it was so loud. Pretty sure. One word that I would not use to describe my host mom here is...nurturing. She was shouting things at me throughout the day – things that consisted of “don’t drink anymore water” “chug this weird potion-looking, milky, thick drink” “eat oranges and pineapples” and “don’t eat bread.” All of which were the opposite of what I needed. Long story short, I understand why people die of Diarrhea here. It is incredibly difficult to explain to someone, while you feel like you are dying, that you are not going to drink or eat what they feel is right in the situation.
Back to the story, around 12:00pm I begin vomiting as well (even better, huh?). The Medical Officer finally calls back and tells me I have a bacterial infection in my GI track and that I need antibiotics. My host-mom went and got them for me and I began taking them around 1:30pm. I was in and out of sleep throughout the rest of the day in between bathroom breaks. I stopped counting after 24 (yes, twenty-four..in less than 24 hours) times – because I thought it just wasn’t necessary. I had moments of comic-relief – like when my mind flashed to a scene of Dumb and Dumber, my domestica (maid) asked me if I was pregnant and I responded Immaculate Conception in Spanish, when I was sitting in the taxi next to a rather large woman with a bag of my stool sample. I also had moments of breakdowns, like when we didn’t have running water, when I was vomiting and having diarrhea at the same time, when there was no toilet paper, when I threw up gallopinto (rice and beans a.k.a the thing that they eat at EVERY MEAL, literally) in their shower, when the toilet seat was blanketed in ants in the middle of the night, and when all I wanted in the world was to be with my parents and have my mom rub my head. Remember: this was the censored version.
Well, I am alive. I made it to the other side. Today is Wednesday and I did shower this morning and made it to class. But I ended up leaving around 9:30 because I was just so weak and still having some diarrhea. I was super bummed because I was supposed to give my first charla at the local school here to 6th graders – but I was basically a walking charla on diarrhea these past 48 hours. I rested a little and ate some crackers before going to Jinotepe for our afternoon charlas. The main reason I made myself go was because we got to find out where our Volunteer Visits are (see next section!!!). I made it through both charlas without using the bathroom. I have not eaten anything except crackers – but I will try and conquer some type of real food tomorrow. Baby steps… Still having some ‘movement’ every time I go the bathroom – and occasional conversations with my stomach –but overall SO, so much better.
The doctor said it was from something I ate or drank – and there is no real way to know what it is from. Last week I did not have ‘agua pura’ or purified water –and was drinking tap water during and after that whole water shortage. It is a possibility it could have been this – I don’t really know how long bacterial infections take to form, yada yada. It could have been the cantaloupe – it could have been the rice and beans. I will never really know. But I do know that I have a serious guard up now. I should have been more assertive with my host-mom about having agua pura (it is the first time this family has hosted an aspirante (trainee). She has now gone the other direction as well and I have three containers of agua pura in my room and some in the kitchen. Ha.
I felt a little anorexic this evening – because she was forcing me to eat dinner after not eating for almost 48 straight hours. It was carne (meat), a tortilla and some tomatoes. I am still having issues at this time and am seriously weary of eating anything – let alone a piece of meat that looks like it was from various types of animals. When she left the room I put the piece of meat back into the pan, ate a few bites of the tortilla and threw the rest out. Felt like I was on a bad Lifetime movie. Ha. For those of you that are worried – I will eat again. I am just taking very small steps back to Nica-food due to PTSD. Did get my packages today from my parents, finally – but sadly I do not think I will be eating the FiberOne bars anytime pronto. Ah, irony. (Side note: those of you that were in Mexico with me when I had Salmonella (Cara – Bueno!)– this tops it. And then some). But I better get better ASAP because I have a Volunteer Visit this Sundayyy!!!...
...Take Me Higher…
We are all assigned to different Volunteer Visits to get a glimpse of the life of a volunteer and how all of these things we have been learning get put into place – oh, and to see a different part of the country – FINALLY! The charla that was receive today was from this guy Ian (from Tennessee) and the whole time he was talking – I was thinking how awesome he was and that he was really passionate, yada yada. Turns out I am the lucky person that is going to see him!!! At that moment, all the bathroom issues – money stuff – faded away. I am so excited! He lives in San Jose Casmupa, Madriz – which is very, very northern part of Nicaragua. On the map it looks like you could throw a stone into Honduras. It also happens to be the town with the highest elevation in Nicaragua – woah! This volunteer visit was definitely not foreseen – as they told us we are normally matched girls-with-girls and I thought it would be a larger site. So this whole time I was thinking that I will definitely get placed in a larger site – but who knows! If they feel comfortable sending me to one of the most rural sites for a visit – it is very unclear where I will end up. The location of your volunteer visit could mean nothing – or it could. Only ‘they’ know. Ha. I did express in my interview that I would like to focus on HIV/AIDS prevention/outreach – and apparently he is focusing a lot on that.
One of the first questions he asked me was, “do you ride horses or mules?” And of course I responded, “I do now.” Ha. This place has got to be insanely rural. He also told me that it gets really, really cold at night and suggested bring any warm clothes I have and a sleeping bag. I did not bring a sleeping bag. But luckily, my friend that is getting sent to a warmer visit – not in the tip-top of the mountains – is letting me borrow his. He already told me about some things we will be doing – and I am so hyped to see all that we have been learning in action. Apparently on Monday we will be riding a mule/horse and hiking a very long distance to another rural community – for baby weighing and to give nutritional charlas. Then he said we will be staying the night in that town and sleeping in hammocks. Wow.
He said he was the same language level as me when he began his service, which was comforting. I will be staying with his host family because his house is not done being built apparently? So he will be staying in his half-built house and I will be staying with the host family very close by. I am super-excited and can’t wait to learn how to ride a mule. Ha. I never thought that would be an aspiration of mine. I will have so much to tell you all when I get back (and lots of photos!). He said it is incredibly gorgeous up there – and I am excited to see a different part of Nicaragua. These areas we are in now aren’t horrible – but there is trash and poop everywhere. It will be nice to just see some green scenery. So things always could be worse – I could have gotten sick while learning how to ride a mule. Not. Cute. Just to give you an idea of how mountainous this apparently is – I am taking a bus with 4 other PC trainees to Somoto (which is actually North of where I will be staying). Ian’s site is only 30km South-East from Somoto – but it takes about 3.5 hours because of how mountainous it is. Wow. In total it will take about 12 hours to get to his site. Wish me luck!
I love you all SO much. Please e-mail me little updates on your lives – I would love to hear how you are doing. I will try to respond if it at all possible – but my time on the internet is very limited (I write these blogs at home). I am thinking of making this blog private because of horror stories I have heard about people’s personal blogs being used against them or Peace Corps in general. If I do change that – you will receive an e-mail from me inviting you – if I already have your e-mail. If not please shoot me an e-mail if you would like to continue reading!
My next blog will be all about my visit to Casmupa!
You are all are amazing people and I miss you more than I can describe. Keep striving for all that you desire – and remember that you are loved <3.
(Before I forget: if I have not called you yet and/or you want to hear from me -> e-mail me your phone numbers).
Principals Office, Vaccines and No Mula
So as I told you in the last blog, I went to Catarina two weekends ago with five other volunteers. What I may or may not have mentioned about this trip was that we were in the back of Braden’s Dad’s pick-up truck (for the record: I did not know this was the travel arraignment until we were already getting into the truck). Anyway, this is beyond common here – and although it is clearly not safe, I felt it was no less safe than riding in one of the micro-buses that has a window being held up by a hair tie.
At our tech charla/meeting this past Friday the entire group received a ‘lecture’ regarding spending time in your training towns, not riding in the back of trucks and not leaving your department. Although it had been explicitly outlined that we are not permitted to ride ‘motos’/motorcycles, it has not been clear about the truck rule. Also, blame it on lack of geography – but none of us had any idea that we had left our department. It was only about 30 minutes and seemed harmless. Obviously, no one got into trouble and it was more of a ‘general announcement’, but none the less – it happened. After I received a TB Booster and Rabies vaccine, I went and talked to the ‘Master Trainer’ about the situation and apologized. Lesson Learned. Their biggest concern was obviously our safety and also that we should not be hanging out with other volunteers on the weekend (and speaking English)– we should be spending time with our host families (which I do more than enough of).
Our banking was set up by Peace Corps and we received a debit card to retrieve our weekly ‘salary’ (which varies from 350-450 cordobas depending on travel needs, or about $20 U.S. dollars). When I left the charla on Friday, I took 300 cordobas out of the ATM and Hana and I took a micro-bus to Jinotepe to use the internet. When I went to pay for the cyber, I realized I did not have any money and my change purse was nowhere to be found. Now to say what exactly happened is impossible. I have heard stories of people getting pick-pocketed or robbed without even knowing it – and yes, it is a possibility. It is also a possibility that I just dropped the change purse – who knows. Regardless, it was very upsetting when combined with other factors of the day (me STILL not receiving my packages from my parents that have been in Nicaragua for over a week, the internet not working while I was trying to talk to my parents, group frustration, etc.). Hana handled the situation very well and was incredibly supportive and spotted me some cords (cordobas) to pay for my internet and get home.
In the big spectrum, not that big of a deal – I was safe, it really wasn’t that much money (less than 20 american dollars), etc. But when you combine a bunch of little things with homesickness, they seem bigger. Anyway, I called one of the training people and they were very supportive and the next day one of them gave me 300 cordobas. They originally told me I had to go the police station and file a report in Jinotepe to get reimbursement from the Peace Corps – but I found out today that I just had to fill out a form – which is awesome. Ironically, in the package my parents had sent me was a purse with zipper and such – which I would have been using instead of my Nike (open) back-pack. Such is life.
V-Day in Nica
Although I do love Valentine’s Day – it was basically just another day here. I did just receive your card today Stacey!! (2/18) It was such a sweet surprise and I am so proud of you! I did receive two gifts – including a bottle of wine from Hana and a teddy bear from my host brother! Both were so thoughtful and sweet. It was our first Saturday that we had a PC charla – and it was on cultural adaptation. Very ironically, we were asked to rate our moods that day for the past three weeks (mine was in the negative range of the chart at that moment). The charla was nice though and had ample timing considering my crappy week – because it talked about the highs and lows of culture shock/adaptation. Some people went through their ‘low’ during week one – so at least I made it to week 3 – 4! Things will only get better…(so I thought)….
After the charla, a bunch of us went to the pool and that was very nice to just bask in the sun. Later that day I had a slight temperature and was feeling pretty nauseas, but after a dance session with my three-year old Nica sister, Ruby – I decided to accept the invitation to go out with Hana and her uncle. We went to the restaurant he owns in our town, El Rosario. We hung out with some people in the restaurant and drank some Toña, Nica-Beer.
Later, they all decided we should go out dancing – so at about 10:30 we went to the pool, which is also restaurant/discoteca (very few buildings here serve only one purpose). It was packed with lovers and couples – which was fine by me, I love watching people dance traditional Nica/Hispanic dances. I did have my first dance with a Nicaraguan – it was less than exciting. Ha. He was a worse dancer than me! Oh, and the whole time he was asking me if I had a boyfriend in the United States. Blah. I really did not want to stay out very late, but everyone else did. I got home at 2:30am (and don’t have a key to my house – so I had to call my mom to let me in), when in reality I was ready for bed by midnight. All in all it was an interesting Dia de San Valentin.
Perros
So dogs here are quite … frequent. Bob Barker should definitely consider doing an outreach here to have dogs neutered and spade. It is not abnormal to witness a street fight of 10-15 dogs. It is incredibly scary but I seem to be the only one concerned. The same way I am incredibly offended when I see two dogs ‘getting busy’ on the street corner in front of the park – it seems that everyone else doesn’t even notice. Dogs here are not seen as pets. Most decide to have a dog in order for protection, a ‘security-system’ more or less. Basically here I am not a fan of dogs, which is so opposite of me in Estados Unidos (the US).
Which brings me to the point that OMG I MISS WESTY, my perrito. During the days before I left and I was trying not to spend money – and getting in as much television and movies as I could (p.s. How is Lost!?! Miss it), I spent soooo much time with her. My parents tell me that she still looks for me in the house. I would pay some serious cordobas to just hug my little puppy. Ah. December.
Class
The dynamics of the group are getting much, much better and all of the problemas have been addressed. Every three weeks our language facilitator changes and it was actually quite sad to have our first one leave us – Nidia, she was incredible. FYI: I taught her ‘That’s what she said’ in Spanish. It was fabuloso. Our new language facilitator is quite ‘different’ from Nidia – but I am trying to remain open to different teaching styles. This week due to all of my crap happening – I do feel that my language has not improved great lengths. I hope to reverse that this next week hopefully. The entire set up of training is very reminiscent of Study Abroad: six hours of class a day, host family, with 20 other Americans throughout the week, etc. Everything is very structured and planned out – which I feel is the opposite of a volunteer’s experience. Training is very necessary – but I do much look forward to my actual service.
24…not the show
So, this section is not for people with weak stomachs – although it will be censored. Monday night I went to bed around 9:30pm (which is late for my standards here in Nica), when I was awoken at 11:00pm from a loud rumble. No. It wasn’t an earthquake. It was my stomach. By 6:00am the next morning I had had diarrhea 8 times. I spoke with my host-mom when she woke up to tell her what was going on. I didn’t have any minutes (“saldo” see telephone section) and neither did my mom. So she went to buy some at 7:00 when the closest pulperia opened. The medical officer told me to go to the nearest town, Jinotepe, and give a stool sample (seriously) and for blood work. One positive out of this entire situation that I will say about Nicaragua is – damn their medical stuff is fast. I was in and out of the lab within 5 minutes. Stool sample and all. In the U.S. that would have been half of my day.
So we wait to hear back from the medical officers with the results as I continue to worsen. My fever is around 101 degrees and the frequency of bathroom visits is increasing. Even more than that – the amount of pain in my stomach was truly indescribable. I may have had a conversation with my stomach it was so loud. Pretty sure. One word that I would not use to describe my host mom here is...nurturing. She was shouting things at me throughout the day – things that consisted of “don’t drink anymore water” “chug this weird potion-looking, milky, thick drink” “eat oranges and pineapples” and “don’t eat bread.” All of which were the opposite of what I needed. Long story short, I understand why people die of Diarrhea here. It is incredibly difficult to explain to someone, while you feel like you are dying, that you are not going to drink or eat what they feel is right in the situation.
Back to the story, around 12:00pm I begin vomiting as well (even better, huh?). The Medical Officer finally calls back and tells me I have a bacterial infection in my GI track and that I need antibiotics. My host-mom went and got them for me and I began taking them around 1:30pm. I was in and out of sleep throughout the rest of the day in between bathroom breaks. I stopped counting after 24 (yes, twenty-four..in less than 24 hours) times – because I thought it just wasn’t necessary. I had moments of comic-relief – like when my mind flashed to a scene of Dumb and Dumber, my domestica (maid) asked me if I was pregnant and I responded Immaculate Conception in Spanish, when I was sitting in the taxi next to a rather large woman with a bag of my stool sample. I also had moments of breakdowns, like when we didn’t have running water, when I was vomiting and having diarrhea at the same time, when there was no toilet paper, when I threw up gallopinto (rice and beans a.k.a the thing that they eat at EVERY MEAL, literally) in their shower, when the toilet seat was blanketed in ants in the middle of the night, and when all I wanted in the world was to be with my parents and have my mom rub my head. Remember: this was the censored version.
Well, I am alive. I made it to the other side. Today is Wednesday and I did shower this morning and made it to class. But I ended up leaving around 9:30 because I was just so weak and still having some diarrhea. I was super bummed because I was supposed to give my first charla at the local school here to 6th graders – but I was basically a walking charla on diarrhea these past 48 hours. I rested a little and ate some crackers before going to Jinotepe for our afternoon charlas. The main reason I made myself go was because we got to find out where our Volunteer Visits are (see next section!!!). I made it through both charlas without using the bathroom. I have not eaten anything except crackers – but I will try and conquer some type of real food tomorrow. Baby steps… Still having some ‘movement’ every time I go the bathroom – and occasional conversations with my stomach –but overall SO, so much better.
The doctor said it was from something I ate or drank – and there is no real way to know what it is from. Last week I did not have ‘agua pura’ or purified water –and was drinking tap water during and after that whole water shortage. It is a possibility it could have been this – I don’t really know how long bacterial infections take to form, yada yada. It could have been the cantaloupe – it could have been the rice and beans. I will never really know. But I do know that I have a serious guard up now. I should have been more assertive with my host-mom about having agua pura (it is the first time this family has hosted an aspirante (trainee). She has now gone the other direction as well and I have three containers of agua pura in my room and some in the kitchen. Ha.
I felt a little anorexic this evening – because she was forcing me to eat dinner after not eating for almost 48 straight hours. It was carne (meat), a tortilla and some tomatoes. I am still having issues at this time and am seriously weary of eating anything – let alone a piece of meat that looks like it was from various types of animals. When she left the room I put the piece of meat back into the pan, ate a few bites of the tortilla and threw the rest out. Felt like I was on a bad Lifetime movie. Ha. For those of you that are worried – I will eat again. I am just taking very small steps back to Nica-food due to PTSD. Did get my packages today from my parents, finally – but sadly I do not think I will be eating the FiberOne bars anytime pronto. Ah, irony. (Side note: those of you that were in Mexico with me when I had Salmonella (Cara – Bueno!)– this tops it. And then some). But I better get better ASAP because I have a Volunteer Visit this Sundayyy!!!...
...Take Me Higher…
We are all assigned to different Volunteer Visits to get a glimpse of the life of a volunteer and how all of these things we have been learning get put into place – oh, and to see a different part of the country – FINALLY! The charla that was receive today was from this guy Ian (from Tennessee) and the whole time he was talking – I was thinking how awesome he was and that he was really passionate, yada yada. Turns out I am the lucky person that is going to see him!!! At that moment, all the bathroom issues – money stuff – faded away. I am so excited! He lives in San Jose Casmupa, Madriz – which is very, very northern part of Nicaragua. On the map it looks like you could throw a stone into Honduras. It also happens to be the town with the highest elevation in Nicaragua – woah! This volunteer visit was definitely not foreseen – as they told us we are normally matched girls-with-girls and I thought it would be a larger site. So this whole time I was thinking that I will definitely get placed in a larger site – but who knows! If they feel comfortable sending me to one of the most rural sites for a visit – it is very unclear where I will end up. The location of your volunteer visit could mean nothing – or it could. Only ‘they’ know. Ha. I did express in my interview that I would like to focus on HIV/AIDS prevention/outreach – and apparently he is focusing a lot on that.
One of the first questions he asked me was, “do you ride horses or mules?” And of course I responded, “I do now.” Ha. This place has got to be insanely rural. He also told me that it gets really, really cold at night and suggested bring any warm clothes I have and a sleeping bag. I did not bring a sleeping bag. But luckily, my friend that is getting sent to a warmer visit – not in the tip-top of the mountains – is letting me borrow his. He already told me about some things we will be doing – and I am so hyped to see all that we have been learning in action. Apparently on Monday we will be riding a mule/horse and hiking a very long distance to another rural community – for baby weighing and to give nutritional charlas. Then he said we will be staying the night in that town and sleeping in hammocks. Wow.
He said he was the same language level as me when he began his service, which was comforting. I will be staying with his host family because his house is not done being built apparently? So he will be staying in his half-built house and I will be staying with the host family very close by. I am super-excited and can’t wait to learn how to ride a mule. Ha. I never thought that would be an aspiration of mine. I will have so much to tell you all when I get back (and lots of photos!). He said it is incredibly gorgeous up there – and I am excited to see a different part of Nicaragua. These areas we are in now aren’t horrible – but there is trash and poop everywhere. It will be nice to just see some green scenery. So things always could be worse – I could have gotten sick while learning how to ride a mule. Not. Cute. Just to give you an idea of how mountainous this apparently is – I am taking a bus with 4 other PC trainees to Somoto (which is actually North of where I will be staying). Ian’s site is only 30km South-East from Somoto – but it takes about 3.5 hours because of how mountainous it is. Wow. In total it will take about 12 hours to get to his site. Wish me luck!
I love you all SO much. Please e-mail me little updates on your lives – I would love to hear how you are doing. I will try to respond if it at all possible – but my time on the internet is very limited (I write these blogs at home). I am thinking of making this blog private because of horror stories I have heard about people’s personal blogs being used against them or Peace Corps in general. If I do change that – you will receive an e-mail from me inviting you – if I already have your e-mail. If not please shoot me an e-mail if you would like to continue reading!
My next blog will be all about my visit to Casmupa!
You are all are amazing people and I miss you more than I can describe. Keep striving for all that you desire – and remember that you are loved <3.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Nica-What.
Buenas dias mi amores. I hope everyone is well. Again I just want to thank everyone who has taken time out of their busy schedule to read this blog – I appreciate all of your support more than you can imagine. So I survived this week despite not having electricity and water three of the six days. It was interesting to say the least. I have tried to make this blog a bit more organized for the pleasure of my readers – here it goes.
Language
So I like to think that I am improving greatly in this area and hopefully most others would agree. Despite this advancement it is incredibly difficult to walk into a waiting room of strangers in the Centro de Salud (health center) and give a presentation on HIV/AIDS, including a condom demonstration. These topics are difficult to talk about in your own culture/language - imagine giving information about sex in another language. I can get frustrated with myself at times, when I am unable to pronounce a word and explain myself. But it is becoming more and more apparent to me that I need to let go of my perfectionist characteristics in order to be successful here. With time, I am gaining more patience with others – and even more so with myself (thanks mom!). (side note: Nicaragua is not the place to come to if you are self-conscious. They refer to people by describing their body or origin. Entonces, gorda (fat), ojos de un gato (eyes of a cat) and cringa are not words that you can be offended by)
It is amazing though how much I rely on non-verbal communication. Nica’s love to use their hands to explain – and it just so happens I do as well. Ha. There are also a lot of common grounds between this culture and my own. Love for music. Love for sports. Love for writing. Love for photography. It is amazing how all of these things do not require that much communication and they instantaneously create a common bond between two people. I am definitely thinking of doing a photography project with my youth group when I get to my site. Cameras are not all that common here and youth are fascinated with taking photos. My Nica-brother, Randall, is even beginning to understand the style of abstract. When I get to my site (the place I will be for two years by myself) I will have a lot more freedom to start projects of my own with my community.
Class
We have six hours a day of language training – both formal and non-formal education. It can definitely be tedious at times, but it is nothing like a language class in the states. There is very little focus on grammatical lessons – and more practical exercises. Today we practices giving directions by playing pin the tale on the donkey. Somehow I ended up outside in the street –and they were trying to get me to kiss Brad (a guy in my group). I may or may not trust my group.
This morning I gave a charla on how HIV is transmitted at the health center and I am incredibly pleased with how it went. I was paired with Evan (the guy with zero personality) to give charlas this week and next. Either the teacher thinks that I can help him become more extroverted, or she hates me. Either one. This morning did go incredibly well though – and I was impressed with how he performed (insert: that’s what she said joke).
Caterina
This past Saturday I went to Catarina, a nearby town, with Brad’s family. (cultural fact: when you invite someone to go somewhere – you are offering to pay for them here. If you do not intend to pay for them – you say during the invitation that if they want to come they have to do it “the american way”..aka pay for themselves). Catarina was the most beautiful place I have seen in Nicaragua yet. It is a lagoon at the base of a nearby mountain, about 25 minutes away. ‘Fresca’ or ‘Frio’ are terms I don’t really pay attention to here – because they think it is cold when it is 75 degrees and a little windy. Well, the warnings about Catarina were correct. It sure was cold. Probably about 60 degrees and 30mph winds off the water.
Security/Seguridad
On Wednesday we had a security briefing with Julio (who is a kinda attractive) and it was quite intense. Apparently kidnapping is kinda a big deal in Managua, where the Peace Corps office is located. Our directions when using a taxi in Managua include: check the license plate, take a picture of license plate, call the Peace Corps office and give the name of the cab driver and our location, also call every ten minutes until we arrive at our location. Intense? A little bit. It is not very common among volunteers but apparently it happened about two weeks ago to one. Also, during this presentation, four current volunteers shared experiences when they were victims of theft. It is the most common crime among PC volunteers. I am not accepting that it is going to happen, but it is likely that something will happen during these two year. I will do everything in my power to prevent it (I have only used my nice camera, Nikon, twice since I have been here – because it attracts so much attention. Hopefully when I get to my own sight and develop more of a relationship with the community, I will be able to use it more).
Site Location
During our first interview with the Program Director, Pilar, I told her about my allergic reactions to bees and that my doctor requested I be within thirty minutes from a hospital. She didn’t seem concerned, but did say that I will not be in a very, very rural area. There are some sites that are fourteen hours from Managua or another volunteer of their sector (I am in the Health Sector, other sectors include: environment, agriculture, teaching English and small business). I think I would be okay in that area – but there are countless benefits to being in a more urban area. There will be more opportunities to work with more groups, NGOs, kids, etc, more resources, closer access to internet, closer to other volunteers and easier for people to come visit me!!! J hint, hint. I have come to accept that I am limited in terms of my site locations and I am just thankful to have been accepted into the PC. The work that I will be doing here is much, much more important than the location. I did express to Pilar that I would love to continue to work on HIV/AIDS. No matter where I end up I will be working within three aspects of health, but I am able to focus on one area more than another. The three areas are: HIV/AIDS, Prenatal/Maternal Care, Sex Education. I am also mandated to start a youth group in my town which will involve health topics as well.
So currently I am giving charlas in the Health Center and we are running two youth groups (one that we formed on our own – and one that was already formed at the health center). Next week we start giving charlas at the School (4th-6th grade). These topics will be much less intense and include topics such as: self-esteem, washing hands, smoking cigarettes, nutrition (OMG THEY NEED THIS) and others. Perhaps the most exciting part about living in a medium to large size town will be having access to fruits and vegetables (as I stare at my cold tortilla and queso fresco aka the saltiest cheese alive).
Ruby
Is amazing. She is my three-year old littler Nica-sister. No matter how I am feeling, when she yells “Amaaaanda” and run up to me (sometimes I pick her up for exercise purposes…she is 49lbs. 3 years old) everything is all good. She definitely is helping me deal with being away from Ethan. After viewing a video of him smiling and laughing – I had my first little cry since I have been here. I want to be there SOO badly for those moments… I hope Justin and Erin know I am there in heart.
Random facts about my life in Nicaragua:
1. I clean my own underwear on a cement block washing board.
2. I don’t poop. Ever.
3. I am no longer scared of any bugs/insects (besides bees)
4. My mom thinks I don’t know how to look sexy – so she has made it her purpose to help me (ex. She ironed my hair a few nights ago. With an Iron. A legit Iron. Not be confused with a straightening iron)
5. I had my first dream in Spanish last night
6. I am constantly going to be talking about fluid exchange, condoms, and penis’ these next two years. Daily.
7. People drink Coca-Cola here like it is agua.
8. Nicaraguans are missing the middle of the food/nutrition pyramid (fruits, veggies)
9. It is normal to pass a pig, a chicken, a dog that looks dead and an immense amount of poop while walking down the street.
10. The most English I have heard here has been “I love you forever” or “Beautiful” while passing by Nica-men.
11. It is very common to have a ‘pulperia’ or store attached to your house. They do mix business with pleasure.
12. ‘Boots with Fur’ is currently at the top of the music charts here in Nicaragua.
Language
So I like to think that I am improving greatly in this area and hopefully most others would agree. Despite this advancement it is incredibly difficult to walk into a waiting room of strangers in the Centro de Salud (health center) and give a presentation on HIV/AIDS, including a condom demonstration. These topics are difficult to talk about in your own culture/language - imagine giving information about sex in another language. I can get frustrated with myself at times, when I am unable to pronounce a word and explain myself. But it is becoming more and more apparent to me that I need to let go of my perfectionist characteristics in order to be successful here. With time, I am gaining more patience with others – and even more so with myself (thanks mom!). (side note: Nicaragua is not the place to come to if you are self-conscious. They refer to people by describing their body or origin. Entonces, gorda (fat), ojos de un gato (eyes of a cat) and cringa are not words that you can be offended by)
It is amazing though how much I rely on non-verbal communication. Nica’s love to use their hands to explain – and it just so happens I do as well. Ha. There are also a lot of common grounds between this culture and my own. Love for music. Love for sports. Love for writing. Love for photography. It is amazing how all of these things do not require that much communication and they instantaneously create a common bond between two people. I am definitely thinking of doing a photography project with my youth group when I get to my site. Cameras are not all that common here and youth are fascinated with taking photos. My Nica-brother, Randall, is even beginning to understand the style of abstract. When I get to my site (the place I will be for two years by myself) I will have a lot more freedom to start projects of my own with my community.
Class
We have six hours a day of language training – both formal and non-formal education. It can definitely be tedious at times, but it is nothing like a language class in the states. There is very little focus on grammatical lessons – and more practical exercises. Today we practices giving directions by playing pin the tale on the donkey. Somehow I ended up outside in the street –and they were trying to get me to kiss Brad (a guy in my group). I may or may not trust my group.
This morning I gave a charla on how HIV is transmitted at the health center and I am incredibly pleased with how it went. I was paired with Evan (the guy with zero personality) to give charlas this week and next. Either the teacher thinks that I can help him become more extroverted, or she hates me. Either one. This morning did go incredibly well though – and I was impressed with how he performed (insert: that’s what she said joke).
Caterina
This past Saturday I went to Catarina, a nearby town, with Brad’s family. (cultural fact: when you invite someone to go somewhere – you are offering to pay for them here. If you do not intend to pay for them – you say during the invitation that if they want to come they have to do it “the american way”..aka pay for themselves). Catarina was the most beautiful place I have seen in Nicaragua yet. It is a lagoon at the base of a nearby mountain, about 25 minutes away. ‘Fresca’ or ‘Frio’ are terms I don’t really pay attention to here – because they think it is cold when it is 75 degrees and a little windy. Well, the warnings about Catarina were correct. It sure was cold. Probably about 60 degrees and 30mph winds off the water.
Security/Seguridad
On Wednesday we had a security briefing with Julio (who is a kinda attractive) and it was quite intense. Apparently kidnapping is kinda a big deal in Managua, where the Peace Corps office is located. Our directions when using a taxi in Managua include: check the license plate, take a picture of license plate, call the Peace Corps office and give the name of the cab driver and our location, also call every ten minutes until we arrive at our location. Intense? A little bit. It is not very common among volunteers but apparently it happened about two weeks ago to one. Also, during this presentation, four current volunteers shared experiences when they were victims of theft. It is the most common crime among PC volunteers. I am not accepting that it is going to happen, but it is likely that something will happen during these two year. I will do everything in my power to prevent it (I have only used my nice camera, Nikon, twice since I have been here – because it attracts so much attention. Hopefully when I get to my own sight and develop more of a relationship with the community, I will be able to use it more).
Site Location
During our first interview with the Program Director, Pilar, I told her about my allergic reactions to bees and that my doctor requested I be within thirty minutes from a hospital. She didn’t seem concerned, but did say that I will not be in a very, very rural area. There are some sites that are fourteen hours from Managua or another volunteer of their sector (I am in the Health Sector, other sectors include: environment, agriculture, teaching English and small business). I think I would be okay in that area – but there are countless benefits to being in a more urban area. There will be more opportunities to work with more groups, NGOs, kids, etc, more resources, closer access to internet, closer to other volunteers and easier for people to come visit me!!! J hint, hint. I have come to accept that I am limited in terms of my site locations and I am just thankful to have been accepted into the PC. The work that I will be doing here is much, much more important than the location. I did express to Pilar that I would love to continue to work on HIV/AIDS. No matter where I end up I will be working within three aspects of health, but I am able to focus on one area more than another. The three areas are: HIV/AIDS, Prenatal/Maternal Care, Sex Education. I am also mandated to start a youth group in my town which will involve health topics as well.
So currently I am giving charlas in the Health Center and we are running two youth groups (one that we formed on our own – and one that was already formed at the health center). Next week we start giving charlas at the School (4th-6th grade). These topics will be much less intense and include topics such as: self-esteem, washing hands, smoking cigarettes, nutrition (OMG THEY NEED THIS) and others. Perhaps the most exciting part about living in a medium to large size town will be having access to fruits and vegetables (as I stare at my cold tortilla and queso fresco aka the saltiest cheese alive).
Ruby
Is amazing. She is my three-year old littler Nica-sister. No matter how I am feeling, when she yells “Amaaaanda” and run up to me (sometimes I pick her up for exercise purposes…she is 49lbs. 3 years old) everything is all good. She definitely is helping me deal with being away from Ethan. After viewing a video of him smiling and laughing – I had my first little cry since I have been here. I want to be there SOO badly for those moments… I hope Justin and Erin know I am there in heart.
Random facts about my life in Nicaragua:
1. I clean my own underwear on a cement block washing board.
2. I don’t poop. Ever.
3. I am no longer scared of any bugs/insects (besides bees)
4. My mom thinks I don’t know how to look sexy – so she has made it her purpose to help me (ex. She ironed my hair a few nights ago. With an Iron. A legit Iron. Not be confused with a straightening iron)
5. I had my first dream in Spanish last night
6. I am constantly going to be talking about fluid exchange, condoms, and penis’ these next two years. Daily.
7. People drink Coca-Cola here like it is agua.
8. Nicaraguans are missing the middle of the food/nutrition pyramid (fruits, veggies)
9. It is normal to pass a pig, a chicken, a dog that looks dead and an immense amount of poop while walking down the street.
10. The most English I have heard here has been “I love you forever” or “Beautiful” while passing by Nica-men.
11. It is very common to have a ‘pulperia’ or store attached to your house. They do mix business with pleasure.
12. ‘Boots with Fur’ is currently at the top of the music charts here in Nicaragua.
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