Soccer Championships

This weekend was the finals for my youth soccer league. It was a long time in the works and well worth it. Of course there were a couple setbacks, my directors could not come, one of the NGOs pulled out, the mayor’s office could not lend me the audio system, but who is complaining? I learned long ago that nothing in Nicaragua goes as planned and you just have to roll with the punches. Yes, I would have loved to have had a big audio system to announce the play by play action of the game and have music, but what are you going to do? None of the kids seemed to mind and their main concern were the trophies that I had hidden in my backpack.

Like any finals the games were the best of the best. First the youngest age group played, ages 11-13. It was a close game between two of the local barrios and in the end La Colonia pulled ahead with a header in the last 10 minutes of the game. It was so cute to see how excited the kids got. The players all ran around the field doing an choreographed dance to celebrate.

Next my team took the field against one of my community schools, Jicaro. It was tough not to play favorites since I knew all the kids on both teams, but I have my bias for the team I worked with all year. I have never seen them play so well. I know I have already said this when they fought their way back from elimination, but they never cease to amaze me. The end score was 4-1 and my host-cousin Johel had 3 goals. Each goal was worthy of the highlight reel on ESPN, there was a beautifully crossed ball that was headed into the lower corner by Johel, another shot at the 18 that caught the keep off guard, a penalty, and a nice rebound shot. The players were in such high spirits and there was even a fair turnout by the parents.

After the game one of the local comedores invited all of us for a light snack to celebrate our victory. Like I mentioned in my last group email I paid a local parent to prepare a meal for my team as well and later they all came up to my house to celebrate. I live a good 15 minutes out of town and I tried to convince them to have the party in the local park, but they were having none of it. One of our players recently had foot surgery and was on crutches and I even played to pity card, but my players are resilient and they carried him taking turns up the hill on their backs. It was so amazing to see how motivated they all were and the reason they wanted it at my house was so they could present me with the trophy. As the technical director they said all their work was for me and that I deserved the trophy. I was so moved by it and when I said I wanted to put it somewhere where we could all share it, they said no, it was my memory of Nicaragua.

I am so proud of my team and all the work they put into making the first youth soccer league a success. They have grown so much in the last 9 months and I know that they all have a bright future. If I had to recall one event of my Peace Corps experience it would be this day and watching how proud all my boys were. I am confident that I have made a difference in their lives and they have definitely changed mine.

Turkey Day

I don’t know when it happened, but Thanksgiving has become my favorite holiday of the year. It is not that my family is full of tradition or that it is a feast with a table bursting with people, but I just love all that it represents. I am sure the purists will say that Thanksgiving is nothing more than an imperialistic holiday representing the conquest of America and blah blah blah… Sure, Thanksgiving is mostly founded upon lies, but what beautiful lies they are. Like all holidays they adapt with the times and become what we need most. For me Thanksgiving is a way for me to recall my home and be proud of my country. I use Thanksgiving to think of all I am fortunate for and lucky enough to have experienced in my life. My family may not have traditions passed on from generation to generation, but I will always think of Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant or “It’s Thanksgiving in Manchester”.

This year I have added a few new traditions for the holiday. This was my third Thanksgiving away from home and probably the most meaningful for me. I have been in Nicaragua for over a year and I now see San Dionisio as my second home. I don’t know when it happened, but I feel perfectly comfortable in Nicaragua. I have grown accustomed to the culture and I embrace it. I am no longer counting down the days until the end of my service or even coming back to the United States, why do I need to be in a rush to come home when I already feel home? Anyways, this year I celebrated Thanksgiving at another volunteer’s house with 6 other volunteers. I took on the head chef role and I will spill the beans now… the turkey was delicious. I made maple sugar brine that the turkey sat in overnight and then I later made a maple glaze to put on while it cooked. I borrowed a tradition from my friend Angus and we coated the turkey in about 2lbs of bacon. I put the turkey in around 8am and it wasn’t ready until 6pm, but it was well worth the wait. Each of us brought different dishes and it was fun crowding the kitchen and cooking together. What more could you ask for by sharing a day together with your closest friends?

 Maybe this is known as growing-up, but I feel myself changing. I feel like I am making friends that will be with me for the rest of my life and what’s better is that we share so much in common. I am no longer the outlier who likes to travel or give back to my community. I have found my niche where there are many more like me and I couldn’t be happier. One prime example is that we went for a run on Thanksgiving morning. It wasn’t your normal run, for some reason we all had to run shirtless and to top it off we chanted the entire time. As a warm-up we all woke up to James Brown’s famous grunts and “hit me”. Well that groove stayed with us and on our 10k run we kept up funky beats, military chants, the national anthem, and any other patriotic songs that came to mind. After we successfully freaked out the entire community of Esquipulas we came back to the house for a game of Risk. Yes, I have found people who like to play Risk and the best part is that I win. What could be more fitting than a game of world domination on Thanksgiving?

He is... the most interesting man in the world.

After this Thanksgiving I can better relate to everything I am grateful for. I have been fortunate enough to make many new friends that will stay with me for the rest of my life. They have been with me through some of the hardest times and now some of my finest. I loved taking on the responsibility of cooking and can’t wait to cook again for my homecoming Thanksgiving dinner next year.

 Angus

 Elvis 

 Geory

 Icia

 Joanna

John

Looking Back, Looking Forward

I have already passed several milestones along my service: I have been in Nicaragua for over a year and I have already gone back to the United States once for Alex and Melina’s wedding. Yet, once again I am completing another milestone… one year in site and being a volunteer. Yes, I have been in Nicaragua for over a year, but it wasn’t until November 22^nd that I actually took my oath and was sworn in as a volunteer. I am now officially over halfway done with my service and I am slowly chipping away at my remaining year. I have been living in San Dionisio for one-year now and will now be cycling through the calendar one last time before my return trip home. 

I admit I have been slacking when it comes to maintaining this blog and with keeping in touch with friends and family. I guess it is a natural phase; there is a period of excitement and novelty, you are diligent, yet time begins to wear on you and tasks become that much more difficult. It hasn’t been that I didn’t want to write in my blog nor that I didn’t have time, I just found excuses to always put it out of my mind. I can’t say that playing twenty games of minesweeper was a more productive use of my time, but I found myself at night playing solitaire or reading rather than wanting to keep my journal or blog recent. Similarly, I realized that the extent of emails I send has been on a sharp decline. It is not that I do not care for my family or friends; I am finding that I just have less to say. Nicaragua has not miraculously modernized or become the same as the United States, but the cultural differences and lifestyles no longer stick out to me. In a drastic oversimplification you can say I have become jaded by my first year of service. San Dionisio is now my home and why would I think it is odd to play soccer in a field still occupied by horses and cows, why would I be disturbed by a pig being butchered in the middle of the street at 4 in the morning? Like all of you back at home this turns into the normal hum of life and it seems too mundane to even share. I look forward to hearing from each and every one of you, but it cannot be one-sided, I too need to write.

Completing my first year of service also means that it was time for the previous environmental group to say their goodbyes. In a more direct sense this means that I now represent the veteran group of environmental education and that is a scary idea. How did I transform from the greenhorn into a volunteer that is supposed to impart practical information to the new generation? It is also amazing to think that as quickly as this last year passed, this upcoming year will be even that much faster and I soon will be like the previous group and will be saying my goodbyes.

So let’s take a look back at the last year here in Nicaragua. When I decided to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer I did not know what to expect. In fact, during the application process I had no idea where in the world I would be placed or the type of job that would be required of me. I remember facing criticism and skepticism about the warrants of doing the Peace Corps and my motives. Why would I want to throw away two-years of my life to some unknown part of the world when there are plenty of people in need in the United States? Is it true that all Peace Corps Volunteers are just drunks and estranged hippies? Would I come back some ex-patriot who would only criticize the United States? Or would I just be shipped off to some far corner of the world to sit around and do nothing? They were all legitimate concerns and each is based in one way or another to a truth. We learned that Peace Corps is what you make of it and no two volunteers have the same service. I saw this as some loophole for anyone to dodge a question about their service, but it is entirely true. If I wanted to, I could sit in San Dionisio and do absolutely nothing with few repercussions. More to the point, I don’t even have to be in San Dionisio, I could be traveling around the country sitting on a beach and sipping a margarita and say I am doing work. Yet, I could also be deflated by the overwhelming problems in my community and leave depressed and exasperated by the problems of the world. However, that is not me, I am not the type of person to take advantage of a situation or shy away from my commitment. If they were to put another volunteer in San Dionisio I am sure they would have a completely different experience than my own, but I am determined to make the most of my own. 

My year in San Dionisio has taught me a lot about myself. Rather than becoming estranged to the American culture, I find myself reminiscing fondly about US culture. I agree it is not perfect and there are many ugly aspects about our culture, but it is mine and I will forever be proud of it. Perhaps it was necessary to live outside of the United States to see how fortunate we really are and to learn that we can change and make our lives better. The Peace Corps has allowed me to grow as a person in a way I have never been able to before. It is not to say that I couldn’t have done this back in Brookfield, but I believe I am a better person than I was before I left. I am proud of my accomplishments and disappointments. I know I will look back at this experience and truly have no regrets. Just the other day I was thinking about where life was taking me. I am a graduate of Tufts University with an elementary teaching license through a joint program that I took through the graduate school. I have lived in Barcelona for a year, worked in a Haitian refugee camp in the Dominican Republic, and taught in some of the roughest schools from Dorchester to Lawrence, MA. My life has been gently guiding me to a life of public service and has in effect put me in contact with thousands of people. I have been fortunate enough to meet people in the best and worse situations of their lives. I have taught the children of some of the wealthiest (daughter of the Red Sox owner and children of Harvard professors) to some of the poorest (classes in Nicaragua). I have met displaced families in the Dominican Republic, newly immigrated families in Dorchester, and settled families in Cambridge. Just this year I have formally taught over 240 students in rural communities and another 200 in my soccer league, life clearly seems to have plans for me. I am not one to be philosophical or believe in fate, but perhaps there is a reason I have taken on such projects in the past. Would I be as willing to start up an entire youth soccer league or baseball league without my experience organizing the Boston Beanpot Criterium? Would I be as confident standing up in front of a foreign classroom without my work as a school teacher in Boston or would I be able to stand up to the local government and international NGOs without my experience working at the CT DEP? While I remain perplexed about what I want to do with the rest of my life, it seems that my past has acted as a rudder or compass guiding me towards a bright future. I may never be the next billionaire or business mogul, but what price can you put on directly influencing the life of thousands of youth? 

I remember right before I left for Nicaragua that one of my friends expressed concern about going into the Peace Corps. It was seen as me putting my life on hold and that I would just be squandering two-years playing soccer or sitting in a hammock. In fact, I am sure many had similar notions that I would be better getting invaluable work experience in the United States. Yet, what price can you put on getting the confidence to move to a new part of the world where you are constantly on display and watched; where life may seem straight forward, but you unofficially become the ambassador for your country and people, where it is sink or swim time to teach in front of 40 rural children or in front of an agitated governmental board? Over the last year I have accomplished more than I could have ever imagined and I think it is worth listing them.

1.       Actually speaking Spanish

2.       Assimilating to a new culture

3.       Being strong enough to exert my own beliefs and culture

4.       Being proud of my country, friends, and family

5.       Setting high expectations for myself and becoming a role model for the community

6.       Building and maintaining a youth group in town

7.       Starting a youth soccer team that has gone beyond all expectations

a.       Watching my team gain the confidence to be independent

b.      Organizing to buy their own uniforms and solicit the mayor’s office for sponsorship

c.       Practicing on their own without me hounding them

8.       Starting a youth soccer league of 10 teams

9.       Starting a youth baseball league with my friend in Muy Muy and donations by the US Embassy

10.   HIV/AIDS charlas in the schools

11.   Community gardens

12.   My first harvest of beans, corn, radish, tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers from my own garden

13.   Teaching a community English class

14.   Teaching in 5 rural multi-grade community schools

15.   Teaching local teachers how to develop more interactive and informative lessons

16.   Book donation project for all local schools

17.   Medical Brigades and translating

18.   First college fair

a.       Inviting 5 local colleges to present programs of study and answer questions

b.      Acquiring scholarships for all students of San Dionisio

19.   Water filtration program with the local government

20.   Cultural exchange with family and friends

21.   Finding my true calling

22.   Having the courage to discover what it is that I, myself, want and work for it

23.   Finding true friends that I will have for the rest of my life

24.   Finding people who share similar passions and goal

25.   Life skills – Sewing anything, cooking anything, and learning to live with less

This list does not encompass everything, but are the 25 accomplishments that I am most proud of. The most exciting part of this list is that I still have one more year of service and can accomplish that much more. I am now a part of my community and nothing can stop me. I have earned respect through trial and fire and people know that I can deliver on my promises. However, Peace Corps is not just about me giving to the community, I believe my lasting legacy to the community is that I have taught others a sense of empowerment. My youth teams have the confidence now to work by themselves and my fellow professors have adapted their lessons to improve the education of their students. For myself I have matured as a person. I am no longer scared of life and the many obstacles that will be thrown my way. If we put our mind to it, we are all destined to do great things and I for one will never be one caught sitting down. 

Fiestas Patronales

It is a shame that we don’t share this tradition in the United States, but each town in Nicaragua has a patron saint and therefore a birthday. It just so happens that my town’s fiestas were this October 9th. It is principally a religious holiday, but like anything it turns into an excuse for merchants to come to town, dance parties, and drinking. Well the main event was the confirmation and baptizing of hundreds of people in San Dionisio and the outer communities. I got to be the honorary photographer and here are a few pictures of the family. It was so nice to seem them all dressed up and it is amazing to see how much I really do value them as my family. I would do anything for them and they embraced me as one of the family for the parties and confirmations of my host sister (Lindys) and cousin (Joel).

It was a beautiful day for the fiestas, there was not a cloud in the sky and it looked like we were going to luck out. The day kicked off with an event called Palo Lucio, which means that they stick a 10m pole in the ground and lube it up with oil, fat, and any type of grease they can get their hands on. The goal of the game is to get to the top of the pole and it is a riot to see guys trying their hardest only to slip back down the pole. The other big event was chancho encebolado which again is a pig that has had all it’s hair cut off and is bathed in oil and grease. This led to some drama because after one of the kids finally caught the pig there were arguments that it was unfair because there was less grease and then someone stole the pig. It was a big deal and the police had to get involved. Remember, I am in an agricultural society, pigs are a prized posession here and the winner gets to keep the pig to raise and then eat.

Fiestas in Nicaragua are not just a one day thing. The party continued on for two nights. The first day was the religious event of confirming the kids, but the next night was the dance party at the town hall. I invited several of my Peace Corps friends and we were quite the spectacle. Of course it is a big deal if we grace the party with our presence and even more so if we are seen dancing with the locals. I was shocked how much we were talked about the following day around town. It was funny for a lot of my friends because rumors spread of the professor dancing with certain people and how I dance funny. I didn´t mind, it was a great night and I made the most of it. It was an added plus that Jamie and Karen came early and I got to cook for them.

I Don´t Mean to Brag

OK, maybe a I do… what are you going to do about it? I hit the infamous half way mark in my Peace Corps service. It has been a rollercoaster since September, I was depressed and felt like I was doing nothing, I was ready to get out of Nicaragua, and I even felt optimistic about my final year. What I have heard from RPCVs is that the second year always flies by and I was hoping that it would be true. Yes, I was naïve, but I figured that as soon as I passed September time would hit some type of warp drive and before I knew it I would again be back in the States. I guess it is like anything and time only seems faster in retrospect, there is no fast forward button and I am still in this for the long haul. Yet, my attitude about things are changing. I have also heard from RPCVs that the second half of your service is when you finally getting things done. I guess some people would say when you start building your legacy. Ha, anyways, I have reached that point and this weekend I was able to proudly look back and see I have made a difference in my town.
Case and point: my youth soccer league. It started with me working with 15 kids and we would go down to the soccer field everyday and just kick a ball around. I had my ups and downs with counterparts and I was ready to throw in the towel. Slowly we began traveling to other towns and even got a few teams to come and visit San Dionisio. Well right before my trip to the States we took it a step further and turned my one team into a league. Rumors had spread around town that the gringo might actually know what he is doing and more kids started asking to join my team. I teamed up with another NGO in town and now I am the proud coordinator of 10 teams. I was nervous that it would be more work than joy, but did last week prove me wrong. We are just about to finish the first round of games and that means eliminations. I got to the field expecting to find it deserted on Saturday, but both teams were already there warming up. For those of you that have stuck with me and have been reading my blog, punctuality is not a strength of Nicaraguans and they are proud to admit it. Well I had 40 kids in the field waiting for me and the referee (a local teenager) was getting together the necessary paperwork. I was impressed all of this with no adult in sight and purely maintained by the kids. This is what I was supposed to accomplish, it was sustainable, the kids took ownership of it, and they were enthusiastic. Maybe it was my good mood, but I swear that they were the best games of soccer I have ever seen played. You would have sworn they were professionals except that they were smaller and not as strong. My team finally seemed to be taking my advice to heart; they were passing back to the defense, trying different angles of attack, and using the clock to their advantage. All in all we played 3 games on Saturday and had about 200 kids in the field. The most interesting part of the league is that we are attracting younger and younger kids. There are kids always waiting on the sidelines eager to play or form their own team the following year. I knew that this was a good thing for the community when I was sitting on the sideline and all of a sudden there was a penalty kick in the game. The stands emptied and you saw kids traversing the field on bikes and foot to get a better view of the action. I have never seen so many happy little kids.
The games continued on Sunday. The adult league was out traveling and that meant we could end our first round of games a week early. My team was struggling throughout the league, we had only won one of our 4 games and were in last place. This weekend for us was do or die and I am proud to say they came clawing back. We won the first game definitively 4-0 and on Sunday it was a nail biter 1-0. I was so proud of them that I bought them all frescos after both games. It would have been impossible to dampen any of their moods. I guess this is my gift for being a Peace Corps volunteer. In the end it wasn’t me who was congratulated for the soccer league, but it was seen as a work of the kids and the town. Yes, I did a lot to get it started and I would like to take the credit, but the point is that the community took ownership of it. I have directly touched the lives of 200 kids and indirectly of many more.
After a year of my service I can proudly look back and admire what I have done. I worked in 4 rural primary schools in 6 classrooms. I have directly taught over 240 students and made appearances in another 3 classes. I worked at the local high school teaching English for another 300 students and have a youth environmental brigade in town teaching the importance of garbage removal and reforestation. It isn’t about the numbers, but rather the point that one person can have a profound impact on a community. The best recognition of my work is that I can walk around any part of San Dionisio not because I am the gringo, but because I have either worked with them or someone in their family and I feel appreciated. I am eager for my final year in San Dionisio and hope to do so much more for my new home.

Just a quick rundown of upcoming projects:

- I created a Facebook link, but I am trying to create a reference library in the central school. I am working with International Book Club and need to raise $200 to receive a 35lb package of books.

- I am planning a college fair for the end of the school year. I have been contacting national universities to come and give presentations at the high school about the importance of a professional career. I also hope them to dispel many of the rumors regarding the application process and talk about the accessibility of scholarships.

- Youth Baseball League with my friend in Muy Muy. We were fortunate enough to get a donation from the US Embassy and SoCom for $3,000 worth of baseball equipment and enough to form 2 teams in each town.

- HIV/AIDS workshops with the health center in town.

- Pen Pals with local schools and hopefully schools in the States.

- I am always open to new ideas…

Back in the USS... Wait, U-S-A!

I don't think there is any adequate word or way to describe my excitement of coming home. I was looking forward to this trip back to the States since before I left for the Peace Corps. True, it was an opportunity for to see my friends again, but it was mainly for Alex and Melina's wedding. I had been counting down for the wedding and saw it as the perfect reprieve one year into my service. This was my chance to see the entire family in one night, celebrate a joyous occasion and recollect myself after being away for nearly half of my service. What more could I ask for?

The day before I headed to Managua to decompress and prepare for my early flight home at 5am. Ridiculous I know, but with all the layovers and time changes I still wouldn't get back to Brookfield until 9pm. Anyways, I lucked out because I hurt myself at my soccer game on Sunday and thought I broke my thumb. Whoops, of course something always has to happen, but as a plus I got my travel reimbursed and a free night at the hotel. I guess karma has a twisted way of delivering. The whole day of flying home was a blur. It was a mixture of lack of sleep, adreneline, and anxiety of what to expect about what to see. The biggest surprise happened when I got to Miami... the price of everything. A banana is 5cents in my town, do you know how much it was in Miami, $1.39; that is absolutely absurd. I wanted a beer, $6 right there and that is not even including tip. Well to make a long story short I did not eat a single thing because I was way too shocked to spend money on things that would cost me less than a dollar. Once I was in JFK I was met by my dad which was amazing. I went running to him. It was quite a contrast to how we were meeting. I was coming back from a poverty stricken town while he was coming back from a two day trip in Scotland after playing a round of golf at the 2011 Ryder's Cup course. Anyways, we got a ride home from his driver and just to top it all off I had my mom and sister waiting for me at the house with a wonderful Italian dinner warming up in the oven.

In typical fashion, I was not going to take this vacation lying down. While most people would approach their time back in the United States as a time to relax, catch up on sleep, see a few friends, I saw it as a sprint to get as much done as possible. I set the pace right by waking up at 6am the next day or 4am my time to go for a nice little bike ride. Well I kept saying one more corner or one more mile and it quickly turned into a 26mile ride... whoops. Oh well, it was a good to get in some good miles and I had a sense of accomplishment by 8am and could take on the rest of the day.

After my morning ride I was off to Hartford to meet up with my old boss Rachael who is a RPCV. It was great catching up with her, sharing my experiences, and knowing that most of what I am going through is common and that I am at the hump... it is all down hill now. The biggest part of the day was Alex and Melina's wedding rehearsal at the church. It was beautiful to see the family, Al and Mel's friends and my grandpa's brother who came all the way from Texas. We had an amazing dinner out in Hartford and it gave me time to catch up with lots of my cousins and friends who I haven't talked to for the last year.

So far it seems like more or less a normal trip back to the States. I had been back in country for 24hrs and had already traveled up to Hartford, did some biking, and saw family and friends. I had to keep my trend going and was off the next day early for NYC. I was meeting up with Stella and her family on the upper westside. Her aunt and uncle lived around 96th street and Stella's mom flew over from Ohio to see her. It was a great day because I finally got to meet more of her family. Besides her family in the city her other aunts and uncles were visiting from Indiana and we even drove out to the Palisades to see her grandma. I guess it was about time because Stella has already met all of my family including everyone in Colombia. Her family is so nice and so caring. We celebrated the Jewish holiday which commemorated the 40 years in the desert and had a wonderful breakfast of bagels, lox, and fruit outside in a park. True, I didn't try to out due myself by then running down to Times Square or going around 5th Ave, but we did all go for a nice walk around Central Park and seeing Strawberry Fields.

Saturday! Al and Melina's wedding. Where did all the time go? I had been in country for two days already and the wedding had already come. The morning was a mad rush of getting ready and I made it worse by taking my dad's car out for a ride and figuring I had time to go to Bart's house. I don't have much experience driving stick, ie about once before, and I did pretty well. I didn't stall, I was able to start from a stop on any hill and got the car going pretty fast... but within reason. Well let was a mad rush getting ready for the wedding and to make it worse when we finally were off and ready Stella and I were the first to arrive at the church with my sister and Deakin coming in right behind. We figured we were still about 40 minutes early so what better than to head down the street to our favorite pizza place, First & Last. We barely made it, my dad was frantically calling and we made up some lie about how we headed down the street to fill up the cars. Oh well, it was exciting and the plus was my cousin Will came to meet up with us, but promptly left because he forgot the dress for his daughter.

Alright, the whole reason I came back to the States... the wedding. It was beautiful, I can see why it took Melina a whole year to plan the event. Everything was absolutely perfect. Yes, we just showed up in the nick of time, but everyone was dressed to the t and I got to catch a few glimpse of all the relatives I haven't seen in ages. I was ecstatic running around smiling at everyone and trying to spend as much time as possible with everyone. The mass itself and service went off without a hitch. I had my 5 seconds of fame reading doing a reading in front of everyone. Frank was the best man and the priest was gave a wonderful sermon about what to expect and the mysteries of marriage. 

The next part of the wedding was the fun part. Well the whole process was fun, but this was the big deal... the reception. It was at the Bond Room in Hartford and was on the 11th floor with a view of the entire city. I don't know how it was possible, but again I was one of the last ones to show up and we lucked out because my parents got all of us rooms at the hotel. We had a stellar table with the six of us, Will and Lyn, and Lil Will with his family. Given, I didn't spend too much time at the table, I did my best to mingle in with everyone but found that I didn't gravitate too far from my corner of the room or I was either at the bar. I know what you are all thinking, I was no lush. I was in fact getting drinks either for my sister or Ryan most of the time and just found a way of getting into conversations that always gravitated around alcohol. Oh well, I made the most of it and the biggest surprise of the night was that on each table was a card announcing my Peace Corps service. Mel prepared a whole flattering explanation of my experience in Nicaragua and announced that they were making a donation to the program.

The night carried on with plenty of dancing, reminiscing of stories and just forgetting that most of us have not seen each other in years. Stella made a good description, she said we were an Italian family, but just latin. It is true, we are a big family, and everyone regardless of distance tries to stay close. It didn't matter that I had not seen one of my Mom's uncles since I was about 5, but it didn't matter we picked right back up. Deakin, Sa's boyfriend, was a huge hit and spent the whole night dancing with Lyn, Uncle Will's fiancée... yes you heard right. It is about damn time! Everything about the evening was perfect, no drunken mistakes, no embarrassing moments, beautiful pictures, perfect company, and great food.

As long as I was waiting for the wedding, it was over in a heartbeat. After the reception we were off to the bar right next door to erase my comment about embarrassing moments. I can't say I remember clearly every detail, but I swear I remember Will on the ground at one point doing push ups in the  middle of the bar...

Yep, definitely happened. I also remember the bouncers slowly closing in on us like circling voltures. To make a long story short, two of our group got kicked out and Alex and Melina made their escape long before the scene got too ugly. I quickly followed suit and it was probably a smart idea because the next morning at breakfast I heard about how my cousin somehow ended up buying more drinks and went somewhere to buy a large pizza at an unknown hour in Hartford.

Oh well, that is behind us and now I had to continue my trip up to Boston. It was Sunday and I had to meet up with Amber, her boyfriend Chris, and my friend Michelle to go apple picking. Stella was with me and we all met up in Davis to head off to rural MA to get some apples. It was a perfect New England day. The weather had dropped to the upper 60's and the farm was packed with families. Sadly we did not have time to go for a hay ride, but this place was amazing. The trees were huge and filled with apples, we had to use ladders to get most of them. Chris is amazing and he was grabbing apples and carving faces into most of them to hide in the trees for following people. It was a quick visit, but I hadn't seen Michelle for over a year and it was amazing to catch up. Sadly we had to drop her off at South Station to head back to NYC, but my night with Amber, Chris, and Stella was just kicking off. We were out to go get Indian and it kept getting better with us meeting up with Dan, Chas, John, and Jason. It was a great dinner and afterwards we headed out into Davis for a few drinks and to meet up with Dan.

I promise I will look at this entry in the future and will update this I swear. I am getting tired and am just too drained from traveling and readjusting to the culture. Here is a shot of the stud, Dan Hall, in his ranger gear at the Shipyard on my last day up in Boston. It was like everything way too quick. For those of you keeping track this picture was taken Monday and I had gone from NYC, to the wedding, to apple picking, and now to Boston. I was finally hitting the wall and was on borderline exhaustion.

All in all it was a great trip. Would I do all this again... eh. I mean, I loved it all and I am so glad that I got to see everyone, but I am not sure I agree with doing it all in such a short period of time. I literally got myself sick moving around so much. While it may have been the corned beef hash I ate the day before I left, but I swear I had beaten my immune system down from lack of sleep. Everyone was so wonderful and there are plenty of perks with my crazy schedule. It is also comforting to know how much has stayed the same in the last year. On the day before I left I headed off to Bart's house to see him and Carolyn and within five minutes it felt like any normal night. I had never been to his house, yet we become accustomed to the comfortable and I felt like I was just gone for a week. It helps me think that it won't be so bad readjusting to life when I finish my Peace Corps service.

Thank you everyone for finding time to see me and being so hospitable. Congratulations to Alex and Melina for the most perfect wedding. It was beautiful and I can't thank you enough for such a considerate message on everyone's tables. Only one more year to go and I will be home for good. I can't wait to see you all again in December for Christmas and this time I am taking it a bit slower.

Negative?

I’ve been working hard to try and reboot my youth group soccer team. I have been trying hard to get my team to practice again and feel like a group. It has been hard because I am usually busy during the week and can’t attend practice with them. Yet, as usual, I was able to do my usual job of soliciting the town truck and organizing another team to play against. Everything started off pretty normal and I thought it would just be another weekend soccer game. Of course I had to ask several parents for permission and swear nothing would happen to their sons, but that is pretty much standard. Maybe I should have taken that as an omen that this weekend might not be as easy as the lasts. My next big surprise didn’t come until we were all waiting in front of the alcaldia for the truck at 7 o’clock Saturday morning. The surprise was that we didn’t actually see the truck until 8:30, it just so happens that the vicalcaldesa wanted to join us and because she is the second in command, we have to fit her schedule. Fine, I understand how this works and I wasn’t too upset. Please, I am in Nicaragua and I am used to things not going as planned and as for a surprise guest this is small stuff.

Anyways, we get to the town which is about 2hrs away and several of us are pretty shaken up from the bumpy ride. Just to remind you all, we travel in the back of a flatbed truck and none of the roads are paved. This isn’t too bad, but it is made worse by the fact that the roads have only worsened with the rain and I swear our driver thinks he is a formula 1 driver. The team we were to play against was already there waiting for us, but something seemed out of place. I didn’t notice it until I stepped onto the field and my foot sunk. That was it, the grass was too green, we were basically playing in a swamp. The center of the field was a mud pit and the edges were probably a meter high of grass. Not your ideal playing conditions, to top it all off the field was probably 30m shorter than usual. Ugh, I can’t ask for perfection, but a little help every now and then would be helpful. I of course had to be the referee because my professor (counterpart) won’t do jack and our team was winning 3-0 by halftime. Things were going well, I was ready to take back my uneasiness from the problems earlier until the professor told me he was taking off to do errands in Matagalpa and was sure I had everything under control. I wasn’t happy about this, but I also wasn’t ready to make a scene in front of the kids so I told him it was fine. Well we finished the game and walked down to the highway where the professor told us the truck would be waiting. Nope, there was no truck. Hmmm… ok, don’t panic, it probably just went to go buy some gasoline and will be right back. Wrong again, 1 hour passes, 2 hour passes, finally 4 hours later the truck decides to grace us with it’s presence. I don’t want to dwell on it, but it was a miserable 4 hours.

So that enough right there is to ruin ones day. The professor who is supposed to be helping me watch the kid bounces, the truck is no where in sight, and I am on the side of a highway trying to keep 18 kids in order and out of danger. Oh no, it gets so much worse. We all climb into the back of the truck and start heading home. I noticed that everyone going in the other direction has rain jackets... weird. Nope, it was pouring ahead of us, in fact, very practical. We got drenched and pouring rain, high speeds, and exposed skin leads to a very unhappy Jason. I was livid and we still had to pick up the professor. We get to the stop and he isnt there. What the F... I couldnt take it, first he ditches us and now he has the audacity to make us wait for him while he was probably doing shopping. Urrggghhh, well we get him and then head down the unpaved part, ie the last 1.5hrs. It was miserable, I think the driver was trying to help us out by going faster but instead that just made the bumps hurt that much more. I was swearing like a sailor as every bump felt like my tailbone snapping. I was in the fetal position the entire time and I have never in my life felt just so beaten and lost. I didnt want to talk to anyone, acknowledge anyone, and I refused to even look at the professor.

It was all terrible and one week later I am still sick. True, I havent been helping the situation given I have been running everyday, I ran 20km this morning, but still. Yet, something happened at the end that made it all worth it. We were pulling into town and the players started screaming. They were celebrating our win that I had entirely forgotten about. It didnt matter to them at that moment that we were on the highway for four hours, or soaked to the bone, or exhausted, we had won and we were going to let the entire town know. I was so proud of them and I realized maybe I shouldnt be festering all this anger. Stuff happens and if anything people here are great at letting it just roll off your back.

La Antorcha

It is sweltering hot, what was I thinking? Everything I do seems to take just that much more energy and I am on a slippery slope of decline. It all started out harmlessly enough. I was to meet up with my neighbor around 5 in the morning and then head out with him on his motorcycle towards Zapote. The morning was crisp, it was cool in comparative standards and there was even a bit of fog settled in the valley. I was ready for my neighbor to come by and was already in my running shorts with an emergency 20 cords in my pocket. The whole reason we were heading off to Zapote was to take part in the running of the torch. The torch is run every year through all the Central American countries to commemorate the independence of the region some 180 years ago. I wasn’t sure what to expect in my town since we are no where near any well traveled route and would not be seeing the real torch. My nose was in the correct place, after a 30min ride out we were met by a hodgepodge collection of students and one carrying the leg of a chair with a tin can nailed on top… your torch. I guess it is cute to see how the people deal with what they have and make the best of it, but it is a far cry from the running of the Olympic torch that I saw years ago.

After cutting up a new mop bottom and thoroughly soaking it in some oil and gas we had ourselves a torch. The MINED delegado made a short speech, we sang the national anthem, and we were off. I should chime in here and let you know this was about a 20km run. The idea is that each school along the road would run a section and then pass the torch off to the next school as we make our way to San Dionisio. I didn’t think that was exciting enough and I got a couple other professors to join me and run the entire route. In my infinite wisdom I figured running 20km would be a piece of cake, I already ran three marathons so how bad could this be. Luckily, we stopped several times because the torch went out or we had to sing the national anthem again because maybe someone forgot it, but it wasn’t a continuous run. It took us nearly two hours to run the 20km or 12miles and felt pretty good. The only rough patch was when we finally met up with the high school and all the older runners waiting to sprint to town. They wanted to show off how fit they were, but they forgot that I had already run a good 12km before arriving.

In the end it was a fun morning run. We were escorted by a horde of people on motorcycles and even more kids leading the way on their bicycles. Once we made it into town, we did a victory lap through all of the streets and everyone was out of their houses with flags and yelling. It is amazing how people can get behind an activity and just take it all in. The best part was I was back up in my house by 10am and got to finish it all off with a nice pancake and bacon breakfast.

Ive Been Surfed

I don’t know how many of you have heard of this, but couch surfing is a network of people who are either looking for places to stay or have a free bed or floor to offer. The concept is quite simple, yet it never really seemed to have made it to the lime light. I guess it takes a certain type of person to offer their place to a complete stranger and an even more unique person to feel comfortable enough to stay at a stranger’s house. Personally, I think it is a marvelous idea and I first came across it while living in Spain. As soon as I was settled down in Nicaragua I offered up my house in San Dionisio thinking what tourist in their right mind would want to come way out here. Surprisingly, quite a few. Not all of them have worked out, people’s plans change, but I had my first visitor come last week. He is a young guy from Germany who decided to take a few months to tour Central America before going off to college. I guess it takes a free spirit to make your way out to me, and his philosophy is that he would rather see the off beaten places to truly get the feel of a country and it’s people. Well he came to the right place, I am one of the few gringos that may town has ever seen and there is nothing in the sense of attractions.

Even with my lack of touristy appeal, we had a great time. It really wasn’t so odd to host a stranger in my house. By chance I was in Managua and was able to pick him up right by the Peace Corps office and assist him with all the different buses and transfers that I frequently combat to get home. Once in town he was a huge hit. A common question was if we were brothers. I didn’t see the resembalance, he is a 6’2” blonde German and I am a darker, brown haired American, but what do I know. My visitor showed off his Diablo skills (a type of juggling with two sticks attached by string where a hourglass like container remains on the string by centripetal force). I have never seen so many kids in my barrio before. Daily there were probably about 20 kids waiting for us to get home from the school and have my visitor show of his juggling and Diablo skills. I think the real catcher was that he would let them try it out and luckily nothing got stolen or broken.

In case there are any other couch surfers wishing to come visit, your stay can be as intensive or laid back as you want. My most recent visitor came with me to all of my schools and showed off his skills during recess. We worked in my personal garden and got to hack a few trees down with my machete. The big plus for me was that I got to cook and we made everything from baked macaroni and cheese, black beans and rice, and an asian stir fry. As my first time hosting it was a lot of fun and I would definitely do it again. I have fallen in love with the program and see it as a great way to meet new people and make new friends. In addition, I feel like I was accomplishing a part of my Peace Corps service, I was sharing a new culture with my community but also giving my community the opportunity to show off themselves.

Sitting in Class

Do you ever just kind of day dream in class and forget where you are? That happens to me a lot when I got to my Thursday school in Susuli. Technically it is not part of my required activities and due to that I take it a little less seriously. It involves no planning, no preparations, and me just sitting there speaking English. I have offered to help one of the English professors, but he often forgets I am there or is doing other themes in Spanish. This last week I was sitting through one of his Spanish classes where the kids were presenting skits they had prepared when I heard a distant thumping. It was gradually getting louder and I had never heard it before. Perhaps I was just dozing off, but I noticed the looks on several of the kids faces that told me they were as curious as I was. Finally I noticed the thumping was not in perfect time and that the thumping was in fact the marching feet of students. As I turned to look out the window I notice a group of 30 kids marching by in lockstep. Not a normal thing you expect to see during school hours. Well this throws the class into an uproar and they proceed to forgo their skits and run outside to join the marching. Where were they marching you might ask? Oh, just around the building in preparation for the Independence Day festival coming up where they will march 100m down their dirt street and back again. This alone may not seem too odd, but compounded by the fact that half the school is under construction while classes are going on and most classes have either been relocated to people’s houses or local bars and you get the idea… we aren’t in America anymore.

One Year Brunch

I have been away from home for over one-year, I have been living in a third world country for over a year. I can’t believe how quickly the first year has gone by. The best part is that it has not been a countdown, it has not been a struggle to survive, but rather the anniversary mark just happened to creep up on me. It is a beautiful thing and the scary part is that from past volunteers I hear that the final year goes by even faster.

Enough about reminiscing, the brunch. It was beyond description, it was the most extravagant brunch I have seen in my entire life. True it was $30, but I would have gladly paid $50. First I thought maybe it just seems so nice because I have been eating rice and beans for the last year… nope. We were ushered to sit down and all thirteen of us just stared like little kids at Christmas. Upon arriving we were swept past a sushi bar and the salad bar. From my vantage point I could see the meat carving table and vaguely see the dessert section just on the horizon. Did I mention that this was a big brunch? The most troubling part about the brunch was where to start, there was so much food that it really did take some planning and plate management to not feel overwhelmed or stuffed. Given, we did have 4hrs and we weren’t going to leave a minute early, but I did want to keep a little bit of class. Following my friend’s lead I avoided the bread, no reason to needlessly fill my stomach, and I made a run for the fruits and antipastos first. I haven’t seen so many types of hams in my life, and the cheese. Wow, there were lox, salads, shrimp, and caviar. Each plate seemed to out due the last. As I got up for my next plate I was confronted by the meat carving section where I could get lamb, roast beef, and then finish it off with mahi mahi, seafood, or soup. I think you all get the point, the food was great and super plentiful. The dessert table did not let down, we could get freshly made crepes or chose from 10 already made dishes. All this is impressive, but what blew me away was the service. My champagne flute never got below half full. Believe me, I tried, I really did attempt to see the bottom of my flute, but I never could. The waiters seemed to just be hovering over to refill our glasses and I don’t think any of us were ready to complain.

While the food was incredible and I drank more champagne than I have since Spain, the real treat was to see all the volunteers from my group. Most I haven’t seen since in-service training and even then it was just noticing them across a table. It was great to hear about different people’s projects, their ups and downs and to know that most of us are going through the same struggles. It is easy to get caught up in your own life, but every once in a while it is nice to be reminded that others are there with you.

Bliss

It has been a busy last couple days, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. My weekends have become consumed with soccer and to be honest I have had enough of it. I love it, and I love being able to be busy with my youth groups, but it gets to be a little much when I find myself spending all weekend on the soccer field and walking back and forth from there three times a day. The basic schedule is that Saturdays are reserved for my youth group league and on Sunday I play with my adult league.

The big even this weekend was that I started working on forming a woman’s team. If I am so adamant about combating machismo in the community, why am I only working with the boys? Like all things there are two sides to each story and I need to make it socially accept o get the girls out of the kitchen and let them play as well. This wasn’t even my idea to start with. One day I was just sitting in my house doing Soduku when a group of girls came by and told me they wanted me to coordinate a team. Usually I am reluctant when presented an idea because they usually end in the same manner; the interested party loses interest. To put them to the test I told them to gather me a list of names of players and we would take it from there. Well the next day I had 15 girls at my doorstep ready to play and I guess that was the message that this was really feasible. Later in the week I was in Susuli, which is a community 2hrs away from my town and I was asked by the girls there about a soccer game this weekend. I guess news spreads quickly and before I knew it I had my first girl’s game organized of San Dionisio vs. Susuli. Just to fast-forward a bit, Susuli never showed this weekend which was no big surprise. However, my 15 girls from San Dionisio did! I was excited to see them make an appearance at the field, but I had no other girls team. I did however have a league game set-up of my boys team playing against one of the local barrios. I called it an exhibition game, but I organized two games of the girls against the boys. It was a slaughter, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and it got the girls interested enough to want to play again and hopefully spread the word to Susuli to get their act together.

This Saturday was one instance of my bliss. It is rewarding to see your projects actually come together and to see that my small little idea of having a soccer team has turned into a flourishing league. I am now directly responsible for over 70 kids and the list seems to be growing. Word seems to be spreading that I can guarantee games and we are much more organized than any attempt in the past. Thanks to my basic organization, I seem to encouraging others to follow in my footsteps and I no longer get lone kids asking to join, but fully rostered teams soliciting to join.

The last bit of my joy has to do with today. No, it does not have to do with soccer. I played horrible with my team today and I voluntarily substituted out of the game in the first 30 minutes. That was the downside, but it only accentuated the positive aspects of the day. Take my day for example. I woke-up late, 7am to not the blaring music of ranchero, but the sound of kids playing and crowing roosters. Believe it or not this is a pleasant wake-up. I put on some NPR Car Talk and made a classy breakfast. I went all out, I had orange juice, bacon, banana pancakes, and scrambled eggs. It was a relaxing morning of just cooking, doing Ken-Ken and then listening to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. The best part of my day was this evening. I learned that my mood may be directly affected by alcohol. This is not to say that I am an alcoholic, but that beer really does do wonders. My parents had smuggled in a 6-pack of Samuel Adams Summer Ale and I opened my first bottle today. Nothing gave me such sheer delight to have a nice micro-brew. I can positively say that the single act of drinking this beer may have been one of my happiest moments in a year. It is somewhat pathetic that beer can outrank many of my more interesting experiences, but I forgot how great it is to have such a beloved beverage. Another aspect is that I may be the only person in the country to even have Samuel Adams Summer Ale in the entire country of Nicaragua. It is entirely feasible that I just consumed 1/6^th of the entire national supply of this type of beer. I love beer, I am proud to say it. I see beer not as a party drink, but as intricate and cultured as wine. Yes, Beast has it’s place in the world, but I am a beer snob, I love my micro-brews. Sam Adams may not fall into this category, but for Nicaraguan standards it is close enough. Yet, this is not the culmination of the night. I went one step further. After my pathetic appearance in the soccer game I needed to just change my mindset and relax in my house. I made a quick stop at the local store, bought a half pound of chicken and made one of my most intricate dishes. It was no culinary feat, but again for here was much more than any of my neighbors were eating tonight. I caramelized some onions, sautéed peppers, garlic, and tomatoes and had some pasta boiling on the side. As my protein I breaded cut-up chicken breast and fried it in sunflower seed oil and Cajun spices. Perhaps I have too much time on my hand, but if I was going to make such a dinner I might as well go the whole way and set the ambience. Dusk was rapidly settling over the town and rather than turning on the lights I lit a candle, put on some chill music and was ready to enjoy the bounty of my work. What better way to end the weekend than drinking a cold beer, eating a truly flavorful dinner, and listening to music while the rain falls down around you. If that isn’t blissful, I don’t want to know what is. 

Backtracking to Weddings and Travels

I’m going to backtrack a bit. We are going to jump back to July 17th, a fine day: the birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and all was right in the world. Those were the simpler days and life was good. I was in Managua and had met up with Stella at the airport to head off to Masatepe. The reason for all this travel: it was Hilda’s wedding. For those of you not taking copious notes about my life, Hilda was my oldest host sister during training and she was marrying her boyfriend of 6 years. To be honest, I don’t know what was more exciting during all of this; seeing Hilda and the family or meeting up with Stella. Well I guess that is not exactly a fair statement. Both are important for different reasons and it is like comparing apples and mangoes. I really see my host families as family now and rely on them for support and often just call my sisters to say hi and see how things are going. I was so happy for Hilda and I knew the marriage was meant to be. Her and Gonzalo seem so perfect for each other and after owning the bakery together, marriage will be a piece of cake.

 

The wedding itself was much more elaborate than I was expecting. I felt like a schmuck showing up in khakis and a polo shirt. I was going to wear my guayabera, but even that wouldn’t have been classy enough and I looked weird since it wasn’t fitted. The entire family was in suites and ties and it was more like an American wedding. Hilda’s dress was made in Miami and all the members of the wedding party had matching designs. The only incident to remind us that we were in Nicaragua was that the power went out and had to have the wedding in the dark. Thank you Daniel Ortega and your campaign promise of no more power outages. Anyways, I was proud of Hilda, it felt as if my own sister was getting married and everyone just seemed so happy. Hilda had a continual smile on her face and she did not seem worked up at all. From tv I had the perception that weddings are stressful events that usually more miserable for the bride and groom, but Hilda seemed to be having the time of her life. 

 

The wedding was a huge event in itself and in Nicaragua that is usually where the evening stops. Not so with Hilda and Gonzalo, they pulled out all the stops and rented a restaurant for the reception. In all honesty, it wasn’t purely Nicaraguan, Gonzalo has a lot of family in the States and I think that played a large factor. I wasn’t complaining, they had a 6-layer cake, disc jockey, free drinks, and a catered dinner. It was top-notch and everyone was having a blast. I give Hilda credit, she stayed in her wedding dress all night and as you can see by the pictures it had quite a train. Another Nicaragua moment was that their first dance together was to none other than “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic, the typical love song here. Besides that small cliché moment, the night took off and I spent most of the evening on the dance floor with Stella. That is not to say that I am a good dancer, but I just didn’t care and I hope that Stella didn’t mind me stomping all over her toes. It was a great night and has just made me that much more excited for Al and Melina’s wedding this September. I am counting down the days and I can’t wait to show off my inadequate dance moves.

 

I’ve been forgetful the last month. First I forgot to mention Hilda’s wedding and next I forgot to talk about going to Selva Negra with Stella. Just to catch you all up: Stella had a meeting in Managua in July and that meant she could extend her visit to include the weekends before and after the conference. The first weekend we spent at Hilda’s wedding and the next, Stella came up to Matagalpa. We planned on just relaxing and not doing a whole lot. I hadn’t seen Stella before the previous weekend for about 2 months and we just wanted to hang around the city. Ideally I wanted to go to San Dionisio and my whole town was waiting for Stella’s arrival, but it would have been too much time on the bus and we compromised to stay in the city. It worked out, it may have only been two nights, but we made the most of the three days. For one we had a picnic in the park. This is kind of a joke because my idea of a picnic was buying half a rotisserie chicken for myself and a bag of chips and refried beans as our appetizer. Ha, not your idea of a picnic, but it worked. We also took an idea from meeting up with my friends Angus and Emily and we headed up to Castillo de Cacao. Sadly it was closed, but we snooped around anyways and walked around. The place is famous because it makes local chocolate and is supposed to have a decent tour with plenty of free chocolate. I was expecting to walk around a big factory with fancy glass observing decks but instead it looked like someone’s house. I swore we went to the wrong place. That is Nicaragua for you, but it was still a pretty place. I peeked into the windows and I have no idea where they make the chocolate, but it was a nice walk.

 

To end our weekend we headed out to Selva Negra which is a locally famous destination to go hiking and a tourist haven. Everyone in town talks about a) how expensive it is and b) how cold it is. True, the place is uber expensive for a Nica and a Peace Corps Volunteer. I think lunch was about $15 a plate and it is like $40 a night so Stella and I just went there for the day and packed our own snacks. Also, I have to give credit, it is colder in Selva Negra, I won’t say it is helado, but the temperatures are probably high 60’s. It is technically a cloud forest and is one of the few protected forests in the region. We went on the longest hike, but for tough people such as ourselves it wasn’t enough. Please, we have climbed Mt. Washington, Monteverde in Costa Rica, and Volcan Arenal, no skimpy cloud forest would tire us out. Either way it was a good day trip and worth doing to escape the city. There wasn’t much for taking pictures. I tried to get a picture of the city off in the distance, but it just doesn’t work on those small point and shoot cameras. I could have taken some pictures in the forest, but I can describe it well enough in words. Imagine a forest, now put it on a hill and imagine it perpetually wet. There you go, that is Selva Negra; maybe add some moss or air plants for good measure.