10,000 words worth

This week has been busy with midterms, studying, etc, among other things, so I haven't written for awhile. But I finally got some pictures off of my friend Anna who I traveled to the coast with, so here are some of my favorites:



The ridiculous boats we rode for 2 hours to get to the town of Bluefields, after the 6 hour bus ride.


Waiting for the boat to leave. Keeping it cool as always.


Climbing up the church bell tower to get a view...


The view! With my travel buddy, Anna


The priest and church worker who showed us the bell tower and invited us to lunch the next day


Bluefields


(1233-1) We did lots of boat riding and got some good views from the water.


The infamous early morning marching band.


The group we traveled with for a bit, at the Survivor set!


This is from a day trip to the Pacific Coast, but I thought you might want to see a picture of Gabriel, the guy (of last posts's fame) who I've started dating (I suppose he also accounts for some of last week's busyness!)

What's your story?

“Dame un cordoba,” the little girl said, extending a tiny, dirty hand. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the 50 centavos I had, worth about 3 cents, and hoped she would believe me when I said it was all I could give her. It wouldn’t be a good idea to go digging through my purse on a busy street. I was with my friend Gabriel, who was taking me on a walking tour of the old part of Managua, but as I hurried to keep pace with him she followed me.

“It’s all I have,” I told her apologetically. I still wasn’t sure the best way to handle begging kids on the street, but I knew that dishing out money right and left wasn’t the best strategy. In Seattle I make a point of stopping and talking to homeless people, but I’m more cautious about talking to strangers in Managua. At least that’s how I rationalized it during our quick encounter. I suppose smiling and moving on was the easiest option.

She brushed her long brown hair off of her face and turned to Gabriel, again asking for a Cordoba, which is worth about 5 cents. He paused for a minute and pointed to the statue on the street corner where we were standing.

“If I give you money, you have to tell me a story about that statue over there.”

“What?”

“Tell me a story. I’m giving my friend here a tour of the city, and we want to hear a good story about the city. You can make it up if you want. Just be creative.”

Her face changed from surprise, to confusion, to delight, to mischief. “Um… my friend will tell you a story,” she offered. Just then another little girl walked up, about the same age, barefooted, holding a window squeegee which she was using to clean windows of cars stopped at the stoplight, in hopes that drivers would tip her a Cordoba or two. Window washers, vendors, and street performers account for the occupations of many of Nicaragua’s poor, who find creative, informal ways to make money.

“Tell me a story,” Gabriel said again. He sat down under the shadow of the statue, showing that he was in no hurry, and the girls shyly joined him, all giggles and grins, as he began to ask them questions to get conversation going.

I don’t think they ever got to telling us a story. But I do know that for a few minutes on a busy, dirty street corner in the middle of Managua, two little girls took a break from their weekend labor and got to be kids again- smiling, laughing, interacting with someone who showed interest in them. We both managed to find a few more cordobas to give them for lunch. I still don’t know the most socially just way to deal with giving money to begging kids. But I do know that I will not let myself make excuses again to treat them as anything less than the precious, beautiful children of God that they are.

The next time you are faced with a homeless person or just someone who needs a listening ear, I challenge you to sit down and learn something from them!

(Note: there are more new posts below)

Living History

Hello everyone! I’ve had quite a few thoughtful experiences this week, so lots to update on. So I started volunteering last Thursday at Mujeres en Accion, Women in Action. I think I’m going to like it. I spent the first half of the day chopping vegetables for the large meal which was distributed to women around the community. Though a simple task, I enjoyed cooking, which I haven’t done much of here, and used the time to get to know some of the women who work there. The second half of the day I spent helping women fill out applications for microloans. If you’re not familiar with microfinance, it’s the practice of giving small loans to women in poor areas (as research shows that women are more responsible with money, and the loans give them power that they would otherwise lack at home), so they may start businesses or improve on existing ventures. Credit is very hard to come by for poor people, but sometimes $100 is all that stands between a woman and a new sewing machine that will allow her to sew much faster and bring in $25 more per week. In general microfinance has shown to be a successful method of poverty alleviation and when women pay back loans, they are left with feelings of self-satisfaction, as well as the ability to generate additional income. I’ve studied microfinance quite a bit but have never seen it actually put into practice, so I enjoyed being a part of the process. The women all seem so hopeful to be trusted with the money and given a chance to improve life for their families.

In my free time (which is becoming less frequent) I’m reading a book, Dreams of the Heart, which is an autobiography of a famous woman in Nicaraguan history, Violeta Barrios de Chamorro. Most recently, she was president of Nicaragua beginning in 1990, but before that, she was married to Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, the resistance leader whose assassination in 1978 set the spark for the people of Nicaragua to join together to topple one of the longest and most oppressive dictatorships in Latin American history, the Somoza dynasty. Reading her account of the political rallies, boycotts, and secret meetings that occurred during those tense years of the escalation of the revolutionary movement has given me a new appreciation for living in Managua. Students at the UNAN, the school I attend, led several protests which were instrumental in garnering public support for the movement. Mrs. Barrio’s son attended a school in my neighborhood. As I read the names of places and people which were key to the movement, I identify with it because I’ve been to that place or have read that name on a memorial around the city.
The Managua of today is not as unified as it was during the glorious people’s victory of 1979. Poverty, inequality, and crime continue their downward path. Still, I can only hope that the people of this city take pride in the legacy that lives on and remember that one time, everybody managed to come together for something good.

In other news, I’ve generated a new list. (yes!) Knock-off brands are very popular in Nicaragua. They usually take the name of a famous American brand and use the same logo, but change a few letters. I don’t know if I’m not supposed to notice, but it is funny to see the names prominently displayed on products when they are obviously not the originals. Among my favorites:

Pizza Hot
Burguer Queen
On backpacks: Samsport; Joysport
On tee shirts: Holistar

See below for new pictures!

Fotografias

As requested....






Random sights from my neighborhood...






...and the nearby volcanoes in Granada! (Nicaragua is, afterall, the land of Lakes and Volcanoes!)

Picture Update

Here are a random collection of photos from the past month or so:


Our program group, out to dinner



At the Volcan Masaya- I think we were hiding them here, but we wore gas masks for protection from the fumes!



My school



Overlooking a street in front of my neighborhood, where I catch the bus



On a hike at a nature reserve



(If it looks like I only hang out with gringos, it's because they're the only ones who have cameras!) I will try to add more pictures as my friends get them to me.

The Real "Survivor: Nicaragua"

I just got back from a fascinating, and exhausting, trip to Nicaragua’s Atlantic coast. Sometimes known as “the other Nicaragua,” it is distinguished by its Caribbean culture, use of English creole more than Spanish, large Afro-descendent population, and remoteness. I traveled with a friend named Anna, an engineer from Boston who quit her job to volunteer in Nicaragua for a few months, and we also met up with a group of her acquaintances- half Nicaraguans and half North American expats- who live and work near Managua.

After 6 hours on the bus and 2 hours on a boat, we reached Bluefields, Nicaragua- a town not accessible by road. Though it’s on the coast, it’s mostly a port city so there are no beaches and therefore not many tourists (perfect!). Anna and I spent some time wandering around town and making random friends, such as a Honduran woman who had just opened a smoothie shop (don’t mind if I do!), and a priest who, after answering our plea to show us the view from the top of the bell tower, invited us to lunch the following day. I became familiar with, though cannot fully comprehend, the English Creole which is widely spoken by the area’s Afro-Nicaraguan population, a fascinating testament to the region’s history of English colonial rule, indigenous influence, and slavery. Though Creole is still widely spoken on the coast, a more recent influx of mestizos (the race of mixed European and indigenous people, which comes to most people’s minds when you think of Latino, or Hispanic, people), means that Spanish is spoken too. This caused a great deal of confusion as I would walk into a store and try to decide what language to speak- nearly everyone speaks Spanish, but many are more comfortable with English Creole and would give me inquisitive looks when I, an assumed English speaker, started a sentence with “buenas tardes…”

On a side note- Today is Independence Day in Nicaragua, though the real celebrations seem to have been in the days leading up to today. It is really quite amusing… well, mostly. All across the country lots of secondary school students are forced to don their uniforms and march in parades down the center of town where they don’t even try to hide the bored looks from their faces. We had heard them a little bit last week in various parades and rehearsals and things. That was all fine and dandy until Monday morning at approximately 3:30 AM. Anna and I were asleep (as you would expect most people to be) when blaring drum sounds in the streets jolted us into consciousness. Not just a couple of stray drums; a godforsaken MARCHING BAND was in the streets. I have no idea why they needed to practice before 4 in the morning but it went on for a good hour. Finally after 60 minutes of the same 8-beat rhythm we were able to sleep, before it resumed again.
At 7.
I didn’t even bother asking anyone in town about it because, if my other experiences in cross-cultural confusion have been any indication, the response would be something like “yeah, they were practicing music. So?” Such is life!

Later in the day, during normal daylight hours, we took a boat ride to nearby Pearl Lagoon, an even smaller town at the edge of a lagoon by the same name. Though Pearl Lagoon also had no beaches, our group of 12 rented a boat yesterday (with a driver who bore an uncanny resemblance to Ben Stiller) to take us around to the Pearl Cays, a series of small islands known for the white sand of Caribbean fame.

All of you Survivor fans will be jealous to hear that I walked on the island and the set where the show was filmed. Apparently filming just ended because everything is still set up, yet abandoned. I hate to burst your bubbles, but most of the rocks were made of plastic or plywood and the grass hut where all the tribal counciling takes place looked professionally constructed. We had a nice time swimming and relaxing in the water. Needless to say, I don’t really feel sorry for these "Survivors". With warm water, a disappointing number of permanent structures, and ample coconuts on the island, I maintain that the real “Survivor: Nicaragua should take place on the streets of Managua!

Here are my latest lists:

Signs I’m adapting to life in Nicaragua:
• I carry my own soap in my purse with me
• I don’t leave the house without my umbrella and raincoat
• My ears perk at the sound of a bell, which signals that the Eskimo ice cream vendor is near
• I push my way onto the bus like everyone else.
• Before entering a public bathroom, I dig through my change to have the required fee handy.

English words and expressions which I love but whose Spanish translations just don’t fully capture the essence of what I want to say, and which I really, really miss using:
• Random
• Awkward
• Creeper
• Oh smack! (though I have discovered a Nicaraguan gesture that I think conveys the same idea)

I will post pictures from this trip when Anna gets them to me... in the meantime, I'll try to catch up with some old pictures.

Love to all,
Kelly

My Nicaraguan cameo appearance!

These past couple days I’ve had a really unique experience. My theatre group performed a play at the National Theatre in Managua (one of the city’s few gems), and I got to be a part of it as an extra (I think there is a technical theatre term for that, but I don’t remember). I had fun and it was awesome to perform in such a beautiful venue! The play was a farcical comedy interpretation of a famous Nicaraguan legend called La Novia de Tola (the bride of Tola). It’s about a bride whose groom runs out on the wedding because his lover shows up, so the bride goes insane. I was a guest at the wedding and got to be all shocked as the priests started cursing and everyone freaked out because the groom left. The legend is one of the oldest and most famous in Nicaragua, and takes place in a small town called Tola in the southern part of the country. I know all this from a conversation with my host mom (with a little help from Wikipedia), who told me about how she had learned the same legend when she was little. This afternoon, however, when I was actually in the play, I hadn’t gotten the chance to read the script or see the first half of it, so I was fairly confused as to what was going on (e.g. who is the woman the groom runs after when he runs out of the wedding?), but I followed along and made it work. Now that I know the story, though, everything makes a lot more sense! Also, I wore a hideous bright red dress (the same color as my face when I put it on) and waaay to much make up, aided by an overeager volunteer… but I managed. Haha. Here is what the theatre looks like:



Hanging out in the green room with everyone, waiting to go on stage, was a fun way to hang out and get to know people, though I still have trouble following Nicaraguans’ quick, informal way of speaking when they are conversing amongst themselves. Usually when someone speaks directly to me, I understand, but today was a down day because I had trouble even with that. Oh well, it was humbling, and I’m glad for the exposure I’m getting. Hopefully those “I’m sorry, could you repeat that again?” instances are getting less frequent.

This weekend, three students from my classes invited me to travel with them to a nearby town, Masaya, where one of them, named Erick, lives. It is supposed to be a neat town- the center of the artisan trade- and there is a lagoon there which I’ve heard is beautiful. We are going to hang out with his family and swim in the lagoon, and just enjoy some time in nature. Overall, being the new girl and foreigner that I am, I’m just really stoked that a group of Nicaraguans invited me to do something with them! Hopefully we become better friends on the trip.

In other words, today I bought a pair of Bermuda shorts (they are like capris that end above the knee, if you are not familiar!). This is a big deal because I realized it is the one Nicaraguan fashion -which Nicaraguans actually wear- that doesn’t suffocate me (like jeans) and that I don’t find ugly (like jean skirts). I plan on wearing them nearly every day. I may need to buy more.

Well, those are all my musings for now. I hope summer, or your respective season, in Seattle/ wherever you are is wrapping up nicely. I know it is supposedly really cold up north, but I am slightly jealous. Sorry I don't have any more personal pictures to put up... but I will try to get a hold of some soon. Much love to everyone!