Your friendly neighborhood Chela

Maybe it’s just me, but I seem to have a sign on my head that, anytime I’m alone, says “come up and talk to me!” When I wait for my theatre group to start on Tuesday and Thursday nights I’ve found it peaceful to sit at the outdoor volleyball court and watch the team practice, along with lots of other random students who make use of the space to toss balls around or just to hang out. And, without fail, every time somebody has come up and started talking to me, either to practice English (it's assumed that chelas [white girls] automatically speak English) or just to find out who I am and what a blond girl is doing at the UNAN. While I tend to have my guard up while walking around the city and try not to invite conversation, on campus I feel quite a bit safer so I usually play along and have met some interesting people. Last week I talked to a high school student from Mexico who now lives in Nicaragua, and we both talked about learning Nicaraguan slang and how different the accent is from Mexican Spanish. Later I met a guy who invited me to church, only to find out it was the church I already go to. I guess we just haven’t seen each other, which is funny because he is black (from the Atlantic coast) and as I am white, you’d think we would both stand out among so many mestizos, but I guess not. Well, now I have a new friend at church, and not surprisingly, he is eager to practice his English with me!

That goes along with a discovery I have made about the culture here which took some getting used to, but which I am fond of. When I meet a Nicaraguan it is not uncommon that on that same day they’ll ask for my phone number and ask me to do something with them. There is a certain openness and vulnerability about it that I like, as if they are eager to get to know me and it doesn’t matter if they already have a set group of friends. While it is a little uncomfortable at times (what if this person becomes really clingy or a phone stalker?), it so far has turned out okay and certainly makes it easier to make friends. I realize that I, by nature and as a product of my culture, am slow to take that step when I meet someone new. I usually figure that I have enough friends or am too busy, or I am just too shy to make myself vulnerable and say “hey, can I get your phone number and would you like to hang out some time?” right off the bat. A lot of people I’ve met don’t seem to let that bother them, and even college students are significantly less busy than students in the US. Most don’t have jobs and aren’t involved in 8 extracurriculars, so there are fewer excuses to use to distance themselves from other people.

A couple of highlights of this past week:
- I found a place where I am going to start volunteering. It is an organization called Mujeres en Accion (Women in Action), and it was started by a group of women in a poor barrio of Managua who offer different programs aimed at empowering women. I am going to meet with them for the first time on Thursday to talk about what I’ll be doing and work out the details, but it sounds like a great place.
- I discovered a place right behind my morning bus stop that sells fresh fruit smoothies for 50 cents. Obviously this is a big deal! It was perfect timing because mangoes, my previous fruit staple, just went out of season and now I have found a replacement for my fruit cravings (besides popsicles, that is).
-Yesterday Sarah and I went to the beach with our friend Gabriel, who is Nicaraguan, and a friend of his named Anna, who is from Boston. The beach had some amazing rock formations on the shore that were super smooth from years of being beaten by the waves, and it had some neat tide pools. It was generally just good for my soul to be out of the city and cool to think that even though I am far from home, I was swimming in the same ocean that I grew up around (though it was about 25 degrees warmer).

A time for it all

Un tiempo para plantar, y un tiempo para cosechar…
Un tiempo para destruir, y un tiempo para construir,
Un tiempo para llorar, y un tiempo para reír…
Un tiempo para esparcir piedras, y un tiempo para recogerlas,
Un tiempo para abrazarse, y un tiempo para despedirse…
Un tiempo para callar, y un tiempo para hablar…

A time to plant, and a time to uproot…
A time to destroy and a time to build,
A time to cry, and a time to laugh…
A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them,
A time to hug, and a time to refrain,
A time to be quiet, and a time to speak

-Ecclesiastes 3 (with special thanks to Simon and Garfunkel)

When I chose to come to Nicaragua I knew I was signing on to an experience that would be one of the more difficult options for study abroad, because I wanted a challenge, and so far I haven’t been disappointed. I am realizing that in the midst of cultural adjustment there is a time for everything. A time to be frustrated about classes and a time to enjoy doing my homework. A time to not understand a word and a time to speak awesome Spanish. A time to stay out late dancing and a time to lounge around the house for hours. A time to miss home and a time to be busy and forget to miss it. A time to meet tons of new people and a time to Skype with old friends. A time to get familiar with Nicaraguan music and a time to retreat with the comfort of Lady Gaga.

It is a question of figuring out how long I let myself retreat, hang back, or complain before I push myself to get out there and get moving again. Which I think applies to life in any country.

In my “go” times, which are becoming more frequent, I have been having some great conversations. Even though I have experienced this in other travels, I have been amazed to remember just how aware people are of the United States here and how much US policies, news, and culture are on people’s minds because they’re so affected by them. It’s easy to lose sight of this living in the country that is in everyone else’s spotlight, but here in Nicaragua it’s blatantly obvious. Almost everyone I’ve asked or talked to here has a good friend, if not a family member, living in the United States. Everyone knows about the Arizona immigration law, and lots of people know where Seattle is. Everyone in my history class knew that we got our independence in 1776 and that George Washington was our first president (granted, they are history majors). They know this because it’s impossible to ignore. The US was the country who turned over the National Guard to the first Somoza dictator, (the first of a family who ruled ruthlessly for over 40 years), financed the contra war, built lots of houses as part of the Alliance for Progress (including the one I live in), and made English the Language to Know. People know both positive and negative things about the country I call home, but sometimes I worry that people (such as history students) associate me too closely with the bad things they’ve heard about the US, and I hope they realize that, while I am proud to be an American, I am not the government and I did not personally install their last dictator. Lots of people are surprised to find out that I too think the Arizona law is discriminatory, or that Western countries have interfered too much in Latin America, and that my professors in the US are just as critical, if not more so, of things my country has done in the past. I hope that if they make assumptions about me for my nationality, they assume some good things too.

Also, lots of Nicaraguans’ information about daily life in the US comes from TV and other equally as realistic and reliable sources. On Thursday I was talking to a lady who said that she would never want to live in the US because it is dangerous, because she had seen on the Discovery Channel that there are lots of crimes there, and she prefers Nicaragua because that kind of stuff doesn’t happen here. I had to laugh as I explained to her that my experience has been very different from that, but I suppose it depends on your perspective.

These are things that have been milling around my mind. Now for your viewing pleasure I will include my latest list:

Things that are harmful to my health (according to my host mom):
1. Walking around barefoot (the cold floor will hurt my bones)
2. Eating raw carrots (I’ll have no teeth by the time I’m her age)
3. Washing my hair every day (ok, I’ve heard this one before. But if you knew how hot it was here, you’d understand…)

Small Triumphs

These past couple days, things have really begun to click here, which has been a big boost to my confidence. Tonight I went to my first meeting of the UNAN Experimental Theatre group. Naturally, I arrived at 6 o’clock on the dot. And naturally, no one else did. While it’s normal for people to be late, it’s also normal for meetings to not happen at all, (i.e. class), and of course I always miss the memo but everyone else mysteriously knows not to show up. So at 6:10 or so, I began to wonder why not a single student had trickled in. Suddenly, about 6:13, a whole slew of students burst in. Where the secret before-party was, I may never know, but I was glad that people were there.

I immediately met a guy named Byron who was also there for the first time (he looked a lot like Ryan Rodriguez- weird, huh?). People were pretty friendly- theatre kids tend to be extroverts, which can’t hurt. If there’s one advantage to being the only chela in the class or the only one speaking with an accent, it’s that people know I’m new and generally try to be accommodating. There were about 20 or so students and we did some physical warm-up exercises (including some awkward partner massages…) as well as some improv. I haven’t done theatre in a long time and have missed it, so it is good to be getting back in the groove, although the Spanish element throws a curveball once in awhile. But, if I don’t understand something, that’s what improvising is all about, right?

I’ve been making friends in other areas as well- with neighbors, people from church, and friends of friends. I’ve connected with a few of them this week and made plans for the weekend, so I am slowly regaining that feeling of being busy and having plans, a feeling which I have come to love and cherish in my college life. Even though I have always had quite a bit of self-confidence and am definitely not shy, I wasn’t sure how I would do with making friends in an environment where for the first time in my life, I am completely removed from every one of my previously existing social networks. Arriving in Nicaragua without knowing a soul has definitely put my extroversion to the test, and finally I feel like my efforts are paying off and I’m getting in the groove of things.

Still, I have been missing my friends at home a lot. You guys are the best and I have been realizing that having friends as wonderful as you is pretty rare. And my family… you guys are pretty great too! I’m praying for you 

In other news, I have taken to creating lots of lists… funny quotes, cultural noticings, etc. The latest one I’m working on is: Things that distinguish Nicaragua (according to Nicaraguans). So far I have:

1. The safest country in Central America
2. The most phrases and words unique to the country
3. The most vulgar form of Spanish, anywhere

Here are some pictures from our trip last weekend to Rio San Juan, a beautiful river and nature reserve on the southern border with Costa Rica:



We took a 12-passenger plane on a small domestic airline. These were our boarding passes- yes, they were made of bright pink wood. For some reason, I found that hilarious. This is Shea, me, Sarah, Gaby, and Mary.


This is Gaby, our assistant program director, who is 22 and has become a friend of mine.



We went to a chocolate making cooperative and got to make our own chocolate! I am still eating it. This is Sarah, Shea, Mary, and me.



Sarah and I joined in on a pick up volleyball game in town

My friend Shea and I



My friends Mary and David (the lone man in our group)

the Fi-YES-ta de Santo Domingo

Nicaraguans sure know how to party, and it seems like religious occasions provide the best excuse. Yesterday was the culmination of a 10-day celebration of the Santo Domingo. I couldn't really get a straight answer out of anyone as to the real significance of the holiday, but everybody takes the opportunity to take a day off, go out into the streets, play loud instruments, set off even louder rockets, and drink lots of rum (the national beverage of choice). Some people cover their bodies in black oil and then there is a contest to see who can be the first one to climb up a tall pole, while covered in oil. They all run through the packed streets like crazy so you better wear clothes that you can afford to have ruined when one of them brushes up against you. I took these pictures off of the online newspaper, so you probably won't find me in them (but let me know if you do!)



Sarah and I met up with our neighbor, Luis, and a group of his friends. It was fun to hang out with a group of Nicaraguans who were eager to tell us about the way they celebrate the day. We spent hours wandering around the packed city streets, listening to music (lots of guys walk around with brass instruments, it turns out), dancing, and just having a good time. Since there is no one my age in my house, it is nice to know there are people in my neighborhood who I'm becoming friends with. Understanding conversational, vulgar Nicaraguan Spanish, spoken among friends, is sure different than speaking with adults, or even young people at church. It is one of the things that makes making friends difficult, and intimidating, even I will have to work up to it, I guess.



I am getting more savvy about riding the buses and have made some interesting cultural observations in the process. Even though Americans are supposed to be the rude and pushy ones when we travel, when I am waiting to get on the bus I have been the one who stands back, waiting for some kind of line to form, while old ladies physically push people aside to be the next one on. I'm realizing though, that that kind of attitude really is necessary here. Today I missed at least 5 buses while waiting to get to school because before they even stop there is a mad rush to meet it at wherever it might choose to pull over, and they are so filled to the brims that even though people are packed in like sardines, not everyone gets on. When the door can't even close because there is some guy hanging onto the bar with half of his body outside of the bus, you know it is full. Otherwise, you just hop on and hang on tight.

I don't mean to be frank, but...

I've noticed that Nicaraguans tend to be a lot more frank than North Americans. You're either offended by it or you find humor in it. I've chosen the latter. My host mom exemplifies this perfectly. Some of my favorite quotes:

"You're probably going to get fat while you're here, because you seem to eat when you're stressed." (note: today she changed her mind: "you eat a lot but you're not going to get fat because you run everyday")

"Your friend Sarah is more beautiful than you, but you're the more extroverted one and because of that, you attract friends more than she does." (I'll take it).

(After going to the Sandinista rally, which she firmly opposed) "You're not feeling well? Hm, maybe you should call Daniel (the president, a member of the Sandinista party) and he can cure you."

Or, my Spanish teacher: "I don't know, Sarah, I think the only one who's having problems with this assignment is you."

hahaha.

Gangsters, Grease, and... Jesus

Classes finally began on Tuesday, and I was more than ready. I am a little bit flawed in the fact that I usually enjoy homework and really like writing research papers. In the past few weeks I've found myself with a little more free time than I'm used to, which has led to a little bit of boredom. I know you're not supposed to say that when you study abroad, but when you go from being a full time student who works part time and does ministry, to taking one Spanish class, life slows down to an uncomfortable pace. Not that I don't have plenty to think about adjusting to a new culture, but I think I will adjust better when I have places to be, people to meet, and a bit more of a sense of purpose. Being in real class finally is a good start, but I'm also excited to start volunteering (I need to figure out where), and getting involved in some activities. I'm thinking about joining the theatre group. Theatre in Spanish might be difficult, but theatre kids are usually really friendly, if not odd, which will probably remind me of my own friends :)

Besides the core course just for students in our program, which is about the history and social development of Nicaragua, all of my classes are with Nicaraguan students. I picked 3 that are all part of the history major, so I have the same people in all of my classes because here, students in the same year and major take all of their classes together. So my class titles are (ready?): Seminar on the Latin American Reality, Seminar on the Central American Reality, and Seminar on the National Reality. There is no better place to learn about Central and Latin American politics, history, and social problems than here in Nicaragua, so I think I made good choices. The "seminar" in the title means that participation is a big part of the grade and we do lots of discussions and debates, and the classes are small, which is exactly what I'm used to.

I ride the regular bus to school every day, which brings up another funny irony of life here. The buses definitely give off a somewhat rough image: nobody smiles, everybody holds their things tight and watches their pockets, and people are packed in like pigs to the point where getting off at a stop, if you're not close to the exit, sometimes requires that you literally pry people apart from each other and squeeze through... you better hope you're skinny. Yet just as you put your "don't mess with me" face on and try not to smile, an American song will come on the speakers, like "Hopelessly devoted to you" or "You're the one that I want" from Grease. On top of that, they are all decked out with religious slogans and paintings. Today as I was trying to avoid a guy's intimidating stare, I looked up to see a painting of Jesus with a shepherd's outfit holding a lamb. Who decides these things?

Hope you are all well. Much love!

Volcanoes and Churches

Last weekend we took a field trip as a group to Granada, a beautiful colonial town on the shores of the huge Lake Nicaragua. We also hiked up Volcan Mombacho while there. Here are some pictures. Unfortunately, my camera got stolen, so I won't be able to take my own pictures anymore, but these are some that a friend took.




To get up the volcano we rode in this beater bus which reminded me of a cheesy Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, so we tried to act really scared.











We took a boat ride around the isletas of lake Nicaragua and ate a fresh fish lunch on a little restaurant out on an island.

Livin' la vida Managua

Here are some examples of the charms, frustrations, and ironies of life in Managua:

There is trash all over the streets but in any given school, home, or shopping center, the floors get mopped at least once an hour. In my own house they leave discarded meat out on the counter for the flies, but every single piece of furniture gets dusted every morning.

Lots of women make a living by going door to door selling off brands of clothing and shoes for cheap. Yesterday a woman came with a duffel bag full of sandals, was invited in, and stayed for about an hour showing Dona Mirna and Karla everything she had, which led to them each buying several pairs. It was part business exchange, part social hour, which I found nice.

Until Friday, the UNAN still hadn't provided us with schedules of when classes were to be held, even though they are starting tomorrow. We had to jump through major hoops to access the schedules too!

Packaged food and produce at the grocery store is just as expensive as in the States, but food purchased from street vendors is really cheap.

My beloved Fuji apples are expensive and hard to find fresh, but I can get mangoes from a street market near my house for about 12 cents each. My plan is to make mangoes my new food staple. I wonder what they taste like with peanut butter…

All day, every day, men walk through the streets with pushcarts of Eskimo brand ice cream products... popsicles, ice cream cups, fudgesicles… needless to say, I’m becoming a regular customer.

A common phrase in Nicaragua is “adios,” which, besides being used as a farewell, is used as a greeting in passing because it literally means “to God.” Sometimes as I walk by someone sitting in front of their house and they want to be nice, they’ll say in English “goodbye,” not realizing that goodbye does not, in fact, also mean “hello” in English.

Men love gawking and making kissing sounds at both foreign and Nicaraguan women, but especially those of us with blond hair. I hate it. I have to laugh, though, when they try to show off their heavily accented English with phrases that come out sounding like “I loaf you,” and “be ma goorl fren.”