Lackluster 2011, post Costa Rica

16/Feb/2011

Still waiting for “normal” to set in. Still not there yet….
This week we started school. Naturally it’d start Monday, but being that it was Valentine’s day, it was deemed a holiday, therefore we started on Tues. I arrived to school on Tuesday a few minutes before 7 am. I was cutting it a little close, and felt a little bad since it was the first day. I hardly saw any kids on my walk to the school. I thought that was really odd, and kept checking my watch, thinking that maybe it was running really slow and perhaps I was REALLY late. I figured that everyone must have been super excited for the first day of school and gotten there half an hour early. “That must be it” I though. I got even closer to the school, and still saw no kids, heard no noise. I got into the gates and saw a couple teachers and a couple students, so I sat down with them, and they said we were waiting for everyone to show up, and then we’d make our way to the park together for a “First day assembly”. We waited, and waited. Since no one else showed, we walked to the park together. Already in progress was basically a Sandinista (the current ruling party) love fest, talking up the party and how great President Ortega is. The kids were free to go home after what turned out to be a political rally. Us teachers made our way back to school to make “Welcome” banners for the next day. On our walk to the school, we turned and went into one of the teacher’s houses where she had cake waiting for us. It was 9am. After some antics and cake, we finally made it to the school for real. We started making the signs when the new Vice Principal showed up, telling us school was cancelled until Monday because there wasn’t enough money to pay the electric or water bills, or the librarian. The hope is that the 150 kids that transferred to another school across town (long story) would come back. Word on the street is that some of that school’s classrooms now have as many as 70 kids in a class, which is just ridiculous., and can’t work effectively. So we are waiting for Monday, hoping that we’ll have those kids back, which means more tuition, which means maybe we can turn on the lights and water in the school.

Regardless of all those tough issues we had to talk about, I was reminded how absolutely hilarious and united the teachers at my school are. We were laughing and having a great time all morning. There’s even talk of me giving them nutrition classes this year!

3/3/11

It might be in my best interest to keep my mouth shut about what’s going on at the school I work at until everything has blown over.

Aside from that, I’m patiently waiting for the rains to come….trying anyways. Within 2 months they should come and cool things down and settle all the dust that is swirling around all the time. You can sweep all you want, but within that same day your floors will be filthy again. The water is also going out just about everyday. Sometimes it’s just for an hour, sometimes it’s for 2 days straight. So…that’s…inconvenient. For a town that has a “good” water system, not many people save their water for when it goes out. I have about 14 liters saved, but that can get used up quick when you take into account washing dishes, cooking, etc. I almost decided to just start going to the bathroom outside to save water. I just couldn’t allow myself to do that, though it wouldn’t be the first time. As a retreat when the water went out for two days, I actually went into the city to a café that has a/c and internet. Great alternative.

Last weekend I went to la Laguna de Apoyo to celebrate Jocelyn’s birthday. Carla’s sisters had bought her a night at the laguna for Christmas, so we redeemed that night and really, really relaxed. We ate like it was Thanksgiving, did puzzles, and watched movies. I took a nice swim across the laguna, and thought about how much I miss it. When we were about to leave, the owner of the hotel told us since no one else was going to be staying there that night, we could hang out for the day and catch the last bus. It was so tempting, but Carla and Jocelyn had to get going. I had nowhere else to be, so I sat and listened to the waves crash, and took another shot at another puzzle. Yeah, life really can be that simple. It was lovely. On my way to catch the bus, I was offered a ride by a red chevy with a/c. American cars are few and far between here, as a cars with working a/c, as are nicas that speak perfect English and are graduate school educated. So yeah, that happened. They brought me not only to the main road, but all the way to Managua. They were super nice and enjoyed speaking with a native English speaker. And I enjoyed the ride. Very much.

Back in my first year of service, I thought about extending for a 3rd year, as long as I got to move cities. Preposterous. I don’t know where I came up with such slander. As much as traveling and living abroad changes and broadens your perspective, once you really put down roots and get settled, you’re in that “same $h!t, different day” mentality that so many American complain of. I had sort of forgotten what my old life was like. I got used to corresponding with my friends and family through a computer or by phone. But to be in their presence totally changed everything. It reminded me that life is so much richer when you’re around the ones you love. I’m perfectly content in my little house with my coconut trees and machete….and 4 cats (ahem, which were born while I was at the laguna for Joc’s birthday…surprise!). Spending afternoons reading in my hammock with the only worry being whether or not a mango is going to fall off the tree and hit me in the head is really wonderful. But I can’t wait to trade that and get back to my real home. This has been such a fortunate ride for me to be here, but seeing as it’s my last 8 months, I’m really excited t be on my way out.


10/3/11

Running shorts, matching team warm-ups, fast times. Yes, I ran a completely legit race here up in the mountains of Jinotega. I couldn’t believe my eyes when we arrived at the convent in San Rafael del Norte, Jinotega. All race participants stayed the night at an old convent. We had dinner, bombas going off at 4am, breakfast, and then went to the race start. I couldn’t believe how organized and punctual everything was. There were runners from all over central america. The course was brutally hilly, but even still, the winning time for the half marathon was 1:15! There were about 12 PCVs running, 6 in the half marathon, 6 in the 10k. It’s really tough to run in the conditions we were in. We had been traveling all day the day before, ate rice/beans/cheese for dinner, slept on wooden planks with a skinny foam pad on top (I almost busted a kneecap on that!), awoke to bombas at 4am, and ran with just a few water stops. But overall it was a really cool experience. A guy I know from my town brought his daughter, whom he trains, and she won the 10k! It was really cool to see them, since we see each other running to Momotombo all the time. Another familiar face was a boy from the Embassy English camp in December. We ran into him within about 2 minutes of arriving to town. His dad turned out to be president of the race, so they were very involved in the whole thing and taking lots of pictures; cheering us on. It was interesting to be racing with people from latin america. Like most in this area, they are so engaging, so friendly, and have such a collectivist mentality. Me, well, I’m not like that. I want to be, but in comparison to them I’m a rude, competitive American that wants to beat them in the race. I had my eye on one guy, and eventually passed him. He had a race belt on, and I assumed he was white like me (because who else would wear a race belt, and where in the world would you ever get that here?!). Later on, he proceeded to pass me back. I thought, he must be white. But he said “vamonos juntos” in a non-gringo accent, which means “let’s go together”. Ughhh. Why was he so nice, and whyyyy can’t I be more like that? When I pass people I throw out the occasional “good job” or “keep it up”, which really when you think about it are slightly patronizing as you are doing better in the race than they are. But regardless, my response to passing someone has never been to bring them along with me, finishing the race together. I told him to just go ahead as I stewed by myself about what a bad Nica I am, so independent and unwilling to accept help from others. As I finished the rest of the race, I thought about how I wanted to be more Nica like him; less individually competitive, and more group minded.
Though the travel was certainly rough and exhausting (8 hours each way), all the volunteers maintained positive attitudes and were able to laugh at unfortunate situations (i.e. not getting a seat on the bus after the race and having to stand…and then having that bus break down…)


13/3/11

This morning I went to Laguna de Xiloá, just north of Managua. It was gorgeous, and so undeveloped. After hitching a ride most of the way, I got to the laguna, whose waters were still overspilling on it’s banks through what used to be people’s homes. Our rainy season last year was pretty serious, and displaced a lot of families who lived along shorelines. I started hiking on what I’d loosely refer to as a “trail”. There were no markers, directions or anything. I just had a general idea from what I had seen in a guide book of the direction to go to hike around Xiloá to get to another laguna just behind it, Apoyeque. I crouched, hiked, tumbled a bit, and eventually found my way around the laguna. In the distance, in the opposite direction, I saw the other laguna (so I thought). I assumed the quidebook was wrong, since I’ve noticed other errors in details. So I did an about face and continued in the opposite direction to explore the other laguna. I passed by a house that sold little sorbets in plastic bags, so I bought some for myself and the little girls that I’d been talking to about the laguna.

They asked me to show them the pictures I had taken, and then asked me to take a picture of them. We all shared some tamarindo sorbet (made from the tangy tamarind seed, water, sugar, then frozen) and I was on my way. When I got back to that general direction of what I thought was Apoyeque, I asked if I could cut through someone’s property to get to the shoreline, since I didn’t see any other way. The guy explained to me that it was actually the Managua Lake. Gah. I must have just seen a little inlet of the lake and thought it was the laguna. He explained to me that I had been going the right direction to get to the other laguna. But since the sun was getting high and I felt my skin sizzling, I decided to call it a day. On the 7k walk back to the highway, a stumbled upon some military training camps. It’s not as if they were secretive by any means, they were well marked with armed guards standing outside. They were very friendly, smiling and waving, but I still couldn’t bring myself to take a picture. There’s always the risk of someone thinking you’re gathering information about them, rather than just bumbling around aimlessly. It just so happened a bus was leaving to go to the freeway. At first he shook his finger at me saying “no” that I couldn’t come on. Maybe he thought I was going TO the laguna, not coming FROM it. I continued walking as he picked some people up. They were taking their sweet time, so I caught up to the bus again, and he let me get on, dropped me off at the freeway, and didn’t even charge me. Nice. From there I waited for an LPC bus to my town. And now I vow that every weekend that I’m in town, I’ll take a quick day trip to somewhere new close to home.



Getting some work done.


At the time, I was positive it was a crocodile. Now I'm not so sure.


22/3/11

This past weekend I spent the night at Laguna de Apoyo, my favorite spot in the country, and where I bring all my visitors. By my dumb luck, it just so happened to be on a full moon, when the moon was actually the closest its been to the earth in 13 years or so, don’t quote me on that though. The moon was gorgeous how it lit up the laguna! I spent the day going for a 2 mile swim, reading, and talking to the owner of the place. As I was reading my book about the revolution in Nicaragua during the 80’s, I started asking him questions, as he was here for the horrific ’72 earthquake as well as the revolution. He told me stories of looting and murders out of desperation during the earthquake, and stories of guerillas coming out of no where and killing entire families during the revolution. After so much peril, I can’t believe he’s still here, as he has since become a US citizen. But living at the laguna is far removed from anything going on in the country, it’s pretty secluded…and perfect. The next morning I took another long swim and headed home. Only 30 hours away, but it was just a breath of fresh air.


I’m starting to get uncomfortable questions and comments regarding our bombing Libya. Since the Nicaraguan government is in support of Libya, it’s creating a bit of a rift. Perhaps I’m just sensitive and/or paranoid, but I feel like some responses have been more along the lines of “bombing Libya, why did YOU do that?” This is the point that I wish I never mentioned that the Peace Corps is a branch of the US government. And also the point at which I wish I hadn’t been denying being German the past year and a half, making it very very clear that I was separate from them, indeed from the US. Maybe I’ll be Swedish. Everybody loves them.




My kitties are growing and getting cuter and more playful by the day!