My Birthday

Wow. I already knew I was loved, but last week for my birthday it was made quite apparent! My birthday celebration actually began the Saturday before, as I decided that it would probably be better to go out and celebrate on the weekend rather than in the middle of the week. We rounded up all the JVs from my house and Ciudad Sandino, and we ate a dinner of pizza, gallo pinto, and a very odd version of jell-o cake that I attempted to make. Then we went out dancing at the Bosque, where we met up with Jennifer (one of my friends from the bank) and ALL of her family, our friend Jorge that Heather and I danced with in Carnaval, and Matt and Ana (Cap Corps volunteers). We had a great night of dancing, and I went to bed satisfied that we had celebrated well. Little did I know, this was only the start of everything. 

                The following Tuesday (the actual day of my birthday), I am woken up at 6:00am to a wonderful rendition of Las Mananitas by my housemates Chelsea, Heather, and Megan. This is the Nicaraguan tradition on a person’s birthday--although the choreography they added was new. They had also made me a breakfast of banana/oatmeal bread with a side of banana/oatmeal shake. Haha. It was amazing! I also opened the 5 cards that my dad sent me, the card my whole family sent, and my birthday package from Brittney. I went to work feeling so loved. Again, little did I know that this was still only the beginning…

     Once I got to work, I started preparing for my 4 groups of women that I have on Tuesdays. The first one was a little complicated because the group was going to close the cycle, meaning that everyone needed to have their loan paid back by that day. So I was actually thinking about other things when suddenly the first group of women entered the bank with balloons, gifts, soda, and a cake from Pricemart. They also sang Las Mananitas, said a prayer for me, and gave me a bunch of hugs. It was so sweet of them.

       I managed to get through the second group without anything happening since they didn’t know it was my birthday, but then I went to the house where we eat lunch each day. Dona Sobeyda and her family surprised me with a gift of a bag and a very beautiful artisan figurine from Masaya of a rather sexy woman holding a basket of fruit and vegetables. On her bare leg is written “Para Jana con mucho carino.”

I was really starting to feel spoiled at this point. But of course after lunch, the next group of women continued the festivities. One woman made a sign that said “Felicidades Hanna,” and the group made Vigoron (a Nicaraguan dish that is rather expensive and eaten on special occasions). Again I received more hugs, prayers, and Las Mananitas. :)

      Finally, at 5 the work day ended, but instead of going home right away, I went to Jennifer’s house. She told me that we were going to cook chicken for my birthday. I was still really full from everything else, but I couldn’t say no. She showed me how to cook the chicken, we talked and ate, and at 8:00, we decided I should probably go home. I walked to the bus stop with all my bags of presents, got on a bus, and went home. 

      But then I walk in the door and find Jorge, Fidencio, Bayardo, and other Jorge all sitting in our front room with a bottle of rum, listening to music and goofing around. Apparently they had been waiting there for me since 6:00! Suddenly Jorge is asking me if I have nail polish remover because he’s going to paint my finger and toenails. I was super confused and thought I didn’t understand him correctly, but I was right. He wanted to clean and paint my nails. He spent about an hour and a half decorating my nails with elaborate colors and designs, and I was amazed at the care he took.

       Also during this time, I was receiving a billion calls. My parents called to sing me happy birthday and ask how I was doing. Also, each person from the Ciudad Sandino house called me individually. I guess I’m kind of known to their house as the awkward, random caller…since I always call their house with random things to say. They took this and ran with it. Elspeth called and wished me happy birthday in a British accent, Jenn screamed a lot, Tony made a joke about my large boobs, and Adrienne sang the entire Toxic song by Britney Spears.

So wow…I am so loved. Thank you to everyone that made this week so special!

El Medio Ambiente

Last Sunday we had a convivencia for work. (This is the word they use for communal living…cool right! It shows a lot about this culture that they have a specific word for this.) For convivencia, every person that works at Proyecto Generando Vida comes together and we talk about a certain topic and participate in activities. This last week, in honor of Earth Day, we talked about things that we do or don’t do to preserve the Earth and its creatures on three different levels: personally, in the project, and in the larger community. My coworkers mostly ended up talking about how terrible we are at this task. At the project we many times leave lights on after we leave a room, we often use small plastic bags to serve out frescos during events, and we waste water by watering the dirt in front of the project. I agreed that yes, the project could do a better job in some areas to preserve and protect the environment, but as we sat there in the open galerón on this hot day, using only the sun for light and the occasional breeze for air condition, I realized how much better they are than any other project I’ve seen in the United States. Maybe my coworkers do throw away leaves in the trash instead of putting them in my compost, and maybe they do leave lights on even after they’ve left rooms…but in general our project does an amazing job. 

In regard to the environment, lately we’ve been talking about how throwing trash in the garbage as opposed to on the street doesn’t actually do anything to really help the environment. It is just moving it from one place to another…and hopefully to a place where we can just forget that it exists. 

Also, I am convinced that the Recycle, Reuse, Reduce campaign could use another R. I think Repair should be added. Lately I have been trying to do this. We took our clock to be repaired instead of buying a new one, a coworker and I dyed our black pants back to a darker shade, a woman from the bank just sewed in the waist on another pair of pants so that I won’t have to keep pulling them up, and today I went to the market where they sewed my Converses so that now the bottom  doesn’t flap around anymore. 

I would just like to challenge everyone at home to do the same. 

Also, I just put some pictures up on facebook if anyone wants to look!

People

My time here has been filled with many stories—some my own, some from others. As I sit here at my 6.5 month mark, I am going to share a few. 

Damaris
           On Thursdays and Fridays we go visit the women that receive loans in their houses. This Friday we went to visit a woman named Damaris. She excitedly receives Silvia and me and looks for a couple chairs for us. She is in the middle of feeding her two boys, one a year old and the other 8. The 8-year-old has a severe disability, and he cannot even sit up on his own. During our conversation, she patiently feeds a pink mush to both whining children. At one point she accidentally drops the cup with the pink mush, and a bit spills out on the dirt floor. Without skipping a beat, she continues to talk as she picks up the cup, gets a broom, sweeps the ruined food out the door, and continues to feed her boys. Damaris is in many ways the epitome of women in Nicaragua that I have met…full of sacrifice and love.

Gustavo
          I was walking home from work one night, and a guy walking in front of me stops suddenly and turns around to look at me. It kind of startled me so I jumped off the curb to put some distance between us. He then tells me that I don’t need to be afraid of him, and we just started talking. It turns out his name is Gustavo, and he is on his way to his usual awning so that if it rains tonight, he won’t get wet. We arrive at the place where we are to part ways, and I say “Que le pase una buena noche,” (Have a good night!) and suddenly his composure changes. He says, “No one is going to believe me! They’re all going to think I’m crazy! The Virgin Mary appearing to me!? I’m only a drunk and a sinner! Please pray over me!” He gets down on his knees in front of me like he’s going to worship me. I tell him to please get up because we are both humans and both equals, and he should not be doing that. He gets up and hands me the small bags of bleach and laundry detergent that he is holding, saying they are presents for me. I try hard to give them back, but he won’t take them. Again he asks me to pray over him, a sinner. I didn’t really know what to do… In the end I just put my hand on his head and rubbed it a bit. Then I said goodbye, and I haven’t seen him since. 

Hector
          For the entire month of May we had Fontaneros (Plumbers) fixing all of the water tubes in our house, as we had a few major leaks that were causing our water bill to be 2000 Cords instead of the normal 80 Cords. In this time, we ended up becoming friends with the hardworking plumbers Hector and Edgar. One night after they were done working, Hector told us his life story—how he had been recruited to fight in the Nicaraguan Revolution. At 12 years old, he was planting mines in the mountains to blow up his opponents. Later after the revolution, he traveled through those lands again and came across many children without arms and legs. He then realized the damage he had caused, and was deeply affected. He turned to alcohol and drugs to help ease the pain and guilt he felt. During this time he was homeless, and a few times he was violently robbed. He told us that one day he suddenly realized how stupid he was being, and he vowed to change his life. Now he works a pool cleaner at a university and as a freelance plumber. 

Jennifer
                Only one woman from the banks comes to Heather and I’s Dance/Aerobics Class regularly. This woman is named Jennifer, and over time she has become my best Nicaraguan friend so far in this country.  A couple weekends ago she invited me to go out dancing with some friends and family for her 31^st birthday. We went to Casa del Obrero (including her 2 sons—one 12 years old and the other 1), and we all danced Cumbia from 5pm-10pm. Although I don’t really like Cumbia that much, we all had so much fun. Jennifer and her family are so kind and inviting, that I feel almost a part of the family.

Guadalupe

                We went to visit Doña Lupita in her house one day, and she excitedly welcomed us to sit under the huge avocado tree with her. She (like almost everyone) originally answers our “Cómo estás?” question with a “Bien, gracias a Dios,” but upon sitting there listening to her talk for 15 minutes about various things, she starts to cry. She talks about how her sons are robbers, and how the police come to her house many times looking for them. She says that she loves them so much, but that no one cares about her. She could die tomorrow and no one would notice. 

Random Woman at the Bus Stop

                One day I was waiting for the MR-4 bus when I notice that a very thin woman with a few bags is going through a trash bag nearby that is filled with pineapple and papaya peels. She carefully goes through the bag, picking out all the papaya skin slices and then putting them in her bag. I stood there for a few minutes horrified. Was she really going to eat that?! I wanted to ask her, but I was embarrassed. After a few more minutes, I got the courage, and I asked her what she was planning on doing with the peels. She looks up at me, smiles, and says in Spanish, “Oh well I am going to feed them to my pigs…they don’t like the pineapple, but this papaya will work fine. Thanks for asking!” 

Esperanza

                Recently I led an activity in the bank where each woman had to pick out a question from a bag and answer it in front of the group. Esperanza picked the question, “If you could trade places with one person for a month, who would it be?” She quickly answers her husband because he gets to travel around and do things.

 This is only a fraction of all the stories I carry here in Nicaragua. Every day I am filled with the beauty and tragedy that I see, hear, and am slowly coming to understand. I think I could go on forever. I am so grateful to all those that have opened up and shared with me.

¿?

         This week the topics of white privilege and U.S. imperialism came up a lot, and I’ve been thinking about them a great deal. I have started to wonder if me being here in Nicaragua just supports both of these. I feel like all my reasons for choosing to volunteer abroad rather than in my own country are all selfish, and in the end I will actually do less for the world than if I had done JVC national. Yes, I am learning a lot about myself and about the world, but what am I really actually doing here? I feel like I’m just wasting space and money. Wouldn’t it be better if I had stayed in my own country where I could actually have a say on justice and political issues? Wouldn’t it be better if they took all the money that JVC is spending on me being here and instead used it to employ a Nicaraguan who may actually be able to do my job better? I feel so confused. I really love being here in Nicaragua, but am I just taking advantage of my white privilege and playing into U.S. imperialism? By being here, am I just making Nicaragua more dependent on U.S. charity, reinforcing this idea that Nicaragua is helpless and that they need the big strong U.S. to come in and “fix” everything? Where is the search for self-sustentation in my job so that maybe one day volunteers won’t need to come here anymore? That’s the big picture, right?...to make it so that one day Nicaragua will not need foreign volunteers?

        The only thing that I have found comfort in is just trying to form relationships with people—equal, loving relationships. As a white foreigner here, this is usually difficult because no matter what, people tend to see me as something special, but I am still trying. Some of the relationships that I am forming with women in my banks are beautiful. I like to think that they would shower me with the love and care they give me no matter what skin color I wore. I just hope I can make them feel as worthy and loved as they make me feel each day. I think this is going to be my main goal for the rest of my time here in Nicaragua. If I can help at least one person feel loved and cared for, then maybe all the money JVC is spending on me will be worth it.

My week.

This week has been crazy.

The week started with a 5k run. Jenn and Bianca heard about this Managua 5k, and decided to do it. Saturday night, I decided…what the hell, I’ll do it to. I figured I wouldn’t be able to run the whole thing, but it was free if you didn’t buy a number, so I wouldn’t lose anything other than calories. Sunday morning we woke up at 6am, met up with Bianca’s Nicaraguan friend named Pedro, and we took a micro to La Galeria. I was pretty nervous since I haven’t ran 3 miles combined in the last 5 months, but I actually started out ok. I did the first 2 miles fine, but the last mile was almost all up hill, and I was dying. I was about ready to quit about half a mile from the end, but Jenn and Bianca stayed with me, coaching me on. Jenn kept saying, “We are all finishing this together.” And that is the story of how I finished my first race without stopping to walk a single time. Definitely the highlight of my week. (But needless to say…my legs were in major pain the rest of the week.)

Later on Sunday, I went with Tobin to the airport to pick up her 2 friends from Europe that are visiting for the next 2 weeks. One is from Germany and the other from Spain, so at the moment, our house is very multi-cultural. They have been fun to have here, but since my room is connected to the living room, and they have been staying up late, I didn’t get very good sleep this week.

Then came Monday. For the last month-ish, Heather, Adrienne, and I have been going to dance practices twice a week in Ciudad Sandino to get ready for our big performance at Carnaval with a group of Nicaraguan jovenes. This week the dance instructor, Marlon, decides that he wants to put us 3 in our own line in the middle of everyone. We are all appalled by the idea. We don’t want special treatment because we are chelas, and there are so many other way better dancers that I would rather have featured in the middle. We’ll see if we can convince him otherwise…

Thursday I found out that my grandpa died. My mom called and told me that he had died on Tuesday, and she explained everything that happened. At first it just felt really weird. When I finally go back to the U.S., he won’t be there. I will never see my grandpa again…like a small part of my life in the U.S. was just erased while I was gone. Then I felt really sad…for multiple reasons…but mostly because I knew I could not be there to support my family. Here I am in Nicaragua while my Grandma, parents, and brothers had to stand by my grandpa’s bed as he withered away and took him last raspy breaths. I’m so sorry. I feel really horrible. I wish so much that I could have been there with you.

Then today, I found out that Grety quit. Silvio also told me that he is leaving in December, and then Silvia said that if she can find a way, she will be leaving too. Everyone that I work with in the bank could very possibly be gone in a year. How am I supposed to do my job if everyone is gone!?

I feel overwhelmed. I thought I was almost out of the transition stage here. I thought I was starting to get things more or less under control. I was wrong. 

This is where I am at 3 months.

This blog is just going to consist of a lot of random thoughts, feelings, and experiences that I´ve had lately. It´s been so long since my last blog, and so much has happened, that I´m not sure I could put it all into one cohesive post.

One of the most uncomfortable things I deal with here is men coming to our door asking for food. Sometimes we give them food, other times we don´t. We’ve decided that if we have some extra food, it´s okay to give it away, but we don´t want to create a dependence. The last few times that men have come to our door, I freeze. I wish I could get up and answer the door, but I just can´t. I slink down in my chair hoping that they haven´t seen me, and I wait until they go away. Each time I feel horrible. I should at least get up and answer the door. Even if we don´t have food to give out, I could at least acknowledge them as human beings; maybe offer some water or talk for a bit. I just can´t. I’m going to start forcing myself to answer the door, though, because I have too much internal conflict when I don’t.

It is also really hard to see people sleeping in the streets. Sometimes men are passed out in the middle of the sidewalk in our barrio, and I can´t always tell if they are alive or not. I wonder sometimes if they actually were dead how long it would take for someone to call the police or a hospital.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is trash day in our barrio. Each time when we drop off our trash at the end of the street, there are people there looking through it. Maybe there is a little extra food or maybe some metal or plastic bottles to sell. Apparently our house is known for having ¨rich trash,¨ and everyone wants to be the first to look through it. One time when I was dropping our trash off, one man ripped the bag straight out of my hand so that he could get to it before another woman.

Diabetes is such a horrible problem here. I think one cause is that there is so much sugar and starch in the diets. I hear stories of people dying of diabetes related problems often, and Tobin´s campo mom just died from diabetes-related complications. Many of the women at the bank have diabetes also. One socia has a huge open sore on her foot attributed to the disease, and I can barely look at it as she swats the flies away from it. A girl at the place where Heather and I eat lunch has very bad diabetes as well. She does not have any way to test her insulin level, so she does not always take her insulin shots at the right times. She regularly feels sick, and due to the disease, her hip bones have reformed so that she looks extremely bowlegged. She is only about 29 years old, but Heather’s mom (a licensed nurse practitioner) says the advanced stage of Karla’s diabetes means that she maybe has 10 more years to live.

One day I was talking with Silvia and she told me that she only makes 2100 Cordobas each month (about $91) for her full time job at the bank. This is absurdly low. Tobin said that the teachers at her school only make between 3-4000 cordobas a month and they only work half days and get all vacations off. Most of the teachers also have another job so that they can financially survive. How can a project that is preaching love and justice pay their workers such an incredibly low wage!?

Everyday on the way to and from work, I pass a very mentally handicapped man. He just sits a little ways off the side of the road in the trash and rocks back and forth, making a “Uhhh Uhh Uhh” sound. It is very sad, and I have a hard time just walking past him. I wish I could just go give him a hug or something, but I have no idea whether or not it would be safe.

Lent has started. At work the other day, my boss was talking about the 3 parts of Lent: Prayer, Fasting, and Giving Alms. It was very intriguing because she related each of the three to a different type of relationship. Prayer strengthens your relationship with God. Fasting should help your relationship with your sisters and brothers (aka those around you), since you are all supposedly united in solidarity through hunger and purpose. Giving Alms then works on your relationship with everyone else—(those outside your inner circle of people)…giving you a bigger picture of the rest of the world. I had never thought of these three in this light, and I found it very beautiful.

Also along the lines of Lent, my house has decided to eat breakfast together once a week as our Lenten promise. The other JV house in Nicaragua has decided only to eat rice and beans during the week for the next 40 days. Jenn went so far as to give up all packaged foods! We really don’t eat that much packaged food, but I thought the ideas and reasoning behind this decision were really cool (solidarity with those that can´t afford it as well as simplicity in reducing waste). Personally, I decided to take about 5 minutes to myself each morning before work to listen to some music and calm myself…a sort of meditation/prayer.

I have realized that I have a horribly short attention span. I can get lost in my head so easily. This hurts me even more here because I have to pay twice as much attention to people speaking in Spanish to understand them. In order to try and combat this I have been trying to remind myself each time I realize I´m drifting by saying ¨Are you listening?¨

Right now it is mango season, and I absolutely love it! There is a mango tree that hangs over our roof at work, and sometimes it sounds like it is hailing because so many mangos are falling down on the tin roof. We just go pick them up, and have a mini mango feast. I have also learned that there is more than one type of mango. : ) In addition to these different types of mangos, there are a few other fruits here that I´ve never seen before. One is called caymito, and it is amazing. I can´t really compare it to any fruit I´ve ever tried before, though.

I have learned quite a few names of the women in the bank. I think I know almost all of the women in my 3 banks of women. They are all so loving and beautiful despite all the hardships that they face. One woman bought me a cacao fresco on Valentines´ Day after she heard me ask how much they cost. Another woman gave me a pair of earrings that she made herself. But I would have to say that my favorite gifts from the women are their hugs.

One day we went to a woman´s house and she proudly presents us each with one whopper. It fascinated me that one tiny whopper here could have sure importance and value. In the U.S., I could eat an entire Easter basket full of whoppers without thinking twice.

Anyway...so that is some of what has been going on with me. Lots of mixed up emotions of awe, saddness, confusion, love, beauty, and evil. Thanks for allowing me to share it with you.