2 Years

Any attempt to describe and sum up two years of life in a few words would be no less than a crazy, troll-sized, casi-impossible task for anyone. Personally, for me to tell about my last 2 years of living here in Managua, Nicaragua, I’m not even sure if I could do it if I were given 3 hours. And yet, I know the time will come when I am asked, “How was Nicaragua!?” --Ehh. Uhh….It was hard? It was beautiful?

It’s not that I dread or hate the question…I’m just not really sure what all to share!

How do I talk about Nicaragua and this whole new chapter of my life and identity to everyone?
Would they be described as the two years where I learned to speak and listen in Spanish? The two years I spent every Monday-Friday from 8-5 volunteering at ProyectoGenerando Vida? The two years I experienced what it’s like to live outside the United States?

Yes to all of the above.
And yet so, so much more…

They were the two years I learned to deal with sweltering heat and yet was obligated to wear pants. The two years I learned to ride on crowded public transportation.The two years I lost 15 pounds on our mainly rice/beans/vegetables/fresh fruits diet.

They were the two years I came to love chicharrón (fried pig skin). The two years I listened to Carlos Mejia-Godoy, Guardabaranco, and Calle 13 songs on repeat. The two years I trekked through some of the most beautiful beaches, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, mountains, and volcanos that I’ve ever seen.

They were the two years I didn’t have a cellphone. The two years I learned to wash a shirt without a machine. The two years I read 36 books. The two years I learned to sit, be, and enjoy the company of others.

They were the two years I lived in a house with various other loving women, each beautiful and amazing in her own way. The two years I learned the importance and necessity of interdependence and intentional convivencia (communal living). The two years I learned to share joyfully.

They were the two years I learned to fail and keep going. The two years I learned to be more loving and patient with myself. The two years I found my voice and practiced how to use it non-violently.

They were the two years I learned how to work in micro-lending. The two years I formed relationships of confianza (trust) with my coworkers and over 350 women. The two years I heard and witnessed the many injustices that people (especially women) in this world face. The two years I received more hugs than the rest of my life combined.

My life here has been all this and more. It has pushed me, taught me, held me, loved me, made me cry, made me question, made me laugh, and in the end transformed me. Maybe not in a big, Hollywood way, but in many small ways that matter.Thank you Nicaragua for all the beauty and struggle that you have shown me—that which exists within me, those around me, and in the world. May we continue to move forward together always.

(I also want to thank everyone who has supported me and kept in contact with me during my time here, whether it be by reading this blog, being my pen pal, calling to chat, or sending facebook messages/emails. It is such a relief to know that I am going back to people in the U.S. who have basically already heard my story—people who already know so much about how my past two years of life have been. Thank you for making this transition easier for me.)