First off thanks to everyone who responded to my Flat Stanley project. I was not expecting such a resounding response of compliments. I thought it would be something cute for Marley and her class and was under prepared for the following responses. I felt like I was the creator of the next viral video to gain ground. I was surprised how it resonated with so many of you. I will try to make another one in the future about either my youth group or some other facet of my life. Please feel free to send it off to whoever you like and I will see if it is possible to post it on my blog as well.
Now that you have a general idea about my life here, I hope that you see that it is not all the negative bickering that I often use this outlet for. I do love my life here in San Dionisio and I would not trade my position for anything in the United States. I am living well, I have no concerns about money, I am working outdoors, I teach in the mornings, and I get to play soccer everyday with my sports team. I count myself as very fortunate and somehow in all this I get to help a community. I have to find a way to do this as a living and I can die happy. Let me know if you have any ideas how this can be transferred to the United States preferably in the Connecticut / Massachusetts region.
I pretty much already discussed my big events in my site in the previous entries, but I can let you in on a couple more mundane happenings. I had been growing my hair out since the middle of November and I finally reached the breaking point. I figured what the hell and wanted to see how long I could stand it, but the last straw was when I went to a friend’s house for a party and saw the pictures the following day. Damn, was I ugly. I went to the barber the next day and told him to do what he pleased and I am back to my standard high and tight moda. I guess there isn’t too much you can do with this dome of mine, the only difference with my Nica haircut is that he finished it off with about a liter of gel. I’ll be honest I did look pretty Nica, or I looked like I just walked into a door and my hair took the brute of the impact. He plastered my hair flat against my head but flipped the front of the hair by my forehead straight up so it was perpendicular with the crown of my head. I wish I had a picture to show you because no more gel will be touching these follicles.
The only other big news is that classes are in full swing. I am visiting four schools throughout the week, Monday through Thursday. I am supposed to just be observing and that is what I do for the most part or try to do. It is surprisingly hard to observe, it is difficult in the fact that you can’t concentrate that long and I can’t help but zone out. I sometimes blank out and realize that I have doodled over an entire page or that I spend the time writing letters to some of you guys. It doesn’t help that the teaching style here is fairly archaic and most lessons consist of students copying verbatim from a book or writing the numbers 1 to 1000 in their notebooks. I am not kidding, it is simply copying like in the medieval ages when monks would huddle in their little monasteries and transcribe books. Worst part is if you then go up to a student and ask what they just wrote they won’t have a clue. It isn’t all that bad, but I do make some effort to make myself known in the class. In most I am trying to be a TA and I often pull groups aside for some more individual attention. It is hard for them to break their routine and they do not like me asking thought provoking questions that break the script of the book, but I think it is good for them. In one of my schools I have actually already started teaching and I did a two hour lesson today with a class of 5th and 6th graders. It was a lot of fun, it was an introduction into garden and compost theory. Nothing too complex, just why we would waste our timing growing plants, the cost benefits, and why composts are needed. The professor is very eager and next week we are going to start digging our compost pits and start collecting kitchen scraps. I also took them outside to play a few games and think I made a few new friends in the process.
All in all, I am assimilating very quickly to my community. It has nearly been three months and there isn’t a street I can walk down without knowing someone. It is an amazing feeling to be so known and to always have someone you can approach and start a conversation with. I have also begun to master the art of getting free meals. I know the right time to show up at people’s houses to either get a dish of rice or beans. I also know who to visit if I want something a little more exotic like cheese or chicken. I wouldn’t call it mooching because I don’t just take the meal in run, but maybe it isn’t exactly moral. I see it as a cultural exchange because we always end up taking for an hour or more and I see that as my end of the bargain.
As always let me know what is happening in your part of the world. I don’t care how boring or mundane you think it is, I guarantee it is different than what I am going through. Also, post on this site already, I want comments. I want to know if any of you are even reading this and if so what you think about it.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Filtron Visit
Last week I had a few out of town visitors. In fact they were from the United States and from Jacksonville, Florida. The program I am working with, Filtron, wanted to show off their partnership with Peace Corps and some of the work that has been completed by the volunteers. Since I am one of their new recruits the director figured I would be worthy of a visit. For those of you who don’t remember, Filtron is a nonprofit organization that was developed after Hurricane Mitch as a cheap and quick alternative to filter water. The basic system consists of a plastic bucket with a ceramic pot that rests on top and functions as the filter. The ceramic pot is coated in a silver compound that removes all the organic pathogens from the water. The system is only $30, but that is quite a cost in my town. The idea was that they would be passing through my town for the day and wanted to meet with a few of the groups I had partnered with.
It was quite the show. They showed up in a chartered microbus and come piling out with their backpacks and cameras hung around their necks. It was a Rotary Club that I guess sponsors the program financially and they were down on an exploratory trip to see how they funds were being used. I think before the last person stepped off the bus the entire town new that there were new gringos in town. To make matters worse, we had to walk around and I felt like a middle schooler being chaperoned by his mom at a school dance. It was pretty embarrassing, I know I am a gringo as well, but I have been in town long enough and have at least deceived myself into believing I blend in. With a group of 15 gringos snapping pictures at anything that moved there was no hiding. I guess if I was in their position I would be doing the same, I mean where else do you see pigs running in the street, more horses than cars, and who knows what else I now accept as normal.
With my group in tow we went to visit the Casa de Materna and talk with the directora. It turned more into a talk about what the goals are of Casa Materna, but they were nonetheless interested. We learned how this organization tries to educate women about the difficulties of parenting, teach family planning, and stress the importance of good nutrition. We then headed to PCAC, which is a farming nonprofit in town. Again, the director was amazing and spent about an hour with us talking about the importance of sustainable farming and reforestation. I then took the whole group out to lunch and gave a small presentation about why I chose the locations that I did. I talked about how I wanted highly visible locations that would appeal to the targeted audience. I actually felt quite professional and it was again a humbling moment to see that I had the attention of 15 older professionals listening to me and my work. After my short little spiel I then got to meet them all on a more intimate level and was surprised about how the first thing they all mentioned was their gratitude. I guess I have kind of forgotten about it, but I am making a sacrifice by being here and I am serving my country. This visit helped me refocus my priorities about being here and to see this as an opportunity not only to help Nicaragua and my community, but to also see it as a continuing classroom to grow personally.
It was quite the show. They showed up in a chartered microbus and come piling out with their backpacks and cameras hung around their necks. It was a Rotary Club that I guess sponsors the program financially and they were down on an exploratory trip to see how they funds were being used. I think before the last person stepped off the bus the entire town new that there were new gringos in town. To make matters worse, we had to walk around and I felt like a middle schooler being chaperoned by his mom at a school dance. It was pretty embarrassing, I know I am a gringo as well, but I have been in town long enough and have at least deceived myself into believing I blend in. With a group of 15 gringos snapping pictures at anything that moved there was no hiding. I guess if I was in their position I would be doing the same, I mean where else do you see pigs running in the street, more horses than cars, and who knows what else I now accept as normal.
With my group in tow we went to visit the Casa de Materna and talk with the directora. It turned more into a talk about what the goals are of Casa Materna, but they were nonetheless interested. We learned how this organization tries to educate women about the difficulties of parenting, teach family planning, and stress the importance of good nutrition. We then headed to PCAC, which is a farming nonprofit in town. Again, the director was amazing and spent about an hour with us talking about the importance of sustainable farming and reforestation. I then took the whole group out to lunch and gave a small presentation about why I chose the locations that I did. I talked about how I wanted highly visible locations that would appeal to the targeted audience. I actually felt quite professional and it was again a humbling moment to see that I had the attention of 15 older professionals listening to me and my work. After my short little spiel I then got to meet them all on a more intimate level and was surprised about how the first thing they all mentioned was their gratitude. I guess I have kind of forgotten about it, but I am making a sacrifice by being here and I am serving my country. This visit helped me refocus my priorities about being here and to see this as an opportunity not only to help Nicaragua and my community, but to also see it as a continuing classroom to grow personally.
Water is the New Gold
Who would ever have thought that Nicaragua would have water shortages? I sure didn’t, when I was first told that I would be going to Nicaragua I imagined rainforests, wearing big rubber boots all the time and fighting my way through vines and swamps. How wrong and naïve I was, it is actually quite the opposite. I am in San Dionisio, the second poorest municipality in the department of Matagalpa in the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. It is only the first month of the dry season and already the town wells have gone dry. My pila or water cistern in the back of the house probably can hold 150gallons and as of yesterday it has gone dry. I have a pile of clothes that I am scared to wash due to lack of water and I am now only showering once every 2 days or so, quite frequent for my taste. It is amazing how having to ration such a fundamental resource quickly makes you grab hold of reality and reprioritize your life. I am now kicking myself for those 20 minute showers I took in the United States or how I would see water as some infinite resource. Supposedly our town water is gone until the rains come around June. Therefore we are forced to rely on water trucks or pipas. Here is the tricky part, they come every 8 or 15 days, but you never know when. This is where it becomes a very serious game of telephone. I mentioned how quickly rumors spread; well imagine the wildfire for something as important as water.
Water is the main topic of discussion here. Like “how about them Yankees” or “how’s the weather” the main conversation starter is how are your barrels or pila. You can always ask someone if they know when the pipa is going to pass and you are guaranteed to get a different answer from each person. Even if you are able to get a general consensus about the day there is still the issue that there are 24hrs in a day. You never know when the truck is going to come and if they do finally state an hour, there is a fifty/fifty chance that they will actually show.
How this all relates to me is that I don’t have water. I have one barrel in my house that is full that is good for 50 gallons and has enough water for drinking, washing dishes, cooking, and showering. I can now shower with about 2 gallons or less and I reuse my dish water to water all my plants. I broke down yesterday and bought a second barrel because when the truck does come, they just fill whatever is in front of your house and move on. I can’t have them go behind my house and fill my pila so the strategy is that they fill the barrel in front and then I bucket brigade the water back to the pila and wait for me.
Now it is quite the event when the truck passes. Imagine what it was like when Paul Revere went racing through Lexington yelling that the British are coming. It is kind of like that, but except you have a horde of kids running around yelling that the water has come! Then like there was a car accident or fire we all rush outside and then just huddle around the scene of the crime or the truck. No one can do anything, but we all just stand there around the truck expecting that we may absorb the water either by proximity and somehow transfer it to our house. The conversations are always the same, but by being with everyone you feel like you are gaining support and all sharing the same burden. It is amazing how crises can bring people together. Thanks to this water shortage I have made more friends in my new neighborhood and I have found some good friends who even filled my pila while I was gone teaching today.
While I call it the great water crisis, it really isn’t that bad. I just need to be a little smarter about my water use and thanks to the help of my friends I will have a regular supply coming once a week. No more 3 gallon showers for me, but who needs to splurge. That just means I can boil the same sized pot of water and my showers will be that much hotter with less heat diffusion.
Water is the main topic of discussion here. Like “how about them Yankees” or “how’s the weather” the main conversation starter is how are your barrels or pila. You can always ask someone if they know when the pipa is going to pass and you are guaranteed to get a different answer from each person. Even if you are able to get a general consensus about the day there is still the issue that there are 24hrs in a day. You never know when the truck is going to come and if they do finally state an hour, there is a fifty/fifty chance that they will actually show.
How this all relates to me is that I don’t have water. I have one barrel in my house that is full that is good for 50 gallons and has enough water for drinking, washing dishes, cooking, and showering. I can now shower with about 2 gallons or less and I reuse my dish water to water all my plants. I broke down yesterday and bought a second barrel because when the truck does come, they just fill whatever is in front of your house and move on. I can’t have them go behind my house and fill my pila so the strategy is that they fill the barrel in front and then I bucket brigade the water back to the pila and wait for me.
Now it is quite the event when the truck passes. Imagine what it was like when Paul Revere went racing through Lexington yelling that the British are coming. It is kind of like that, but except you have a horde of kids running around yelling that the water has come! Then like there was a car accident or fire we all rush outside and then just huddle around the scene of the crime or the truck. No one can do anything, but we all just stand there around the truck expecting that we may absorb the water either by proximity and somehow transfer it to our house. The conversations are always the same, but by being with everyone you feel like you are gaining support and all sharing the same burden. It is amazing how crises can bring people together. Thanks to this water shortage I have made more friends in my new neighborhood and I have found some good friends who even filled my pila while I was gone teaching today.
While I call it the great water crisis, it really isn’t that bad. I just need to be a little smarter about my water use and thanks to the help of my friends I will have a regular supply coming once a week. No more 3 gallon showers for me, but who needs to splurge. That just means I can boil the same sized pot of water and my showers will be that much hotter with less heat diffusion.
The Youth Group Saga
Do you ever feel like you are trapped in a bad movie? Well that is what it is like having to deal with all the drama that comes with trying to form a youth group in Nicaragua. Imagine the scenes from Groundhog Day when the main character is forced to continually relive the same day just to find new ways to either kill himself or entertain himself. That is how I somehow ration my life here and dealing with my group.
Now, as bad as I make it sound, I am really proud of my youth group and I want to make that disclaimer now and make it clear. There are many amazing things about my group and I am lucky to have even formed one and to have one that continually wishes to meet, but still… damn. As I discussed earlier, the whole mess began when I formed this group with the help of another Nica. Now his age is kind of an enigma and it is impossible to tell by looking at him. I have narrowed it down to 17 to 21, but I have heard as young as 15 and as old as 23. I prefer to go with the interquartile range, but my leading piece of evidence is that he is still in school because I have seen him in the uniform and it was at a primary school. However, to disclaim this evidence and exclude it from this make shift trial is that grades are in no way a marker of age in Nicaragua; hence the example of me teaching a 16 year old 5th grader.
Now that we have re-established the antagonist, let us set the story in motion. It happens that I went to Matagalpa last weekend on Sunday to do some errands and meet up with my friends. I was excited to get out of site for the day and all the kids agreed that Sunday was a good day to just rest and leave our meetings alone. Well, I guess that changed right after I left and they had a practice with my doppelganger, Julio. This anomaly of age led the practice, but I guess some type of drama unfolded and depending who you talked to he either a) eliminated half the team b) was attacked by the team or c) a ostentatious coup d’état. I prefer the latter but that is just because I read way too many political books and secretly want to take over the world someday. Needless to say when I got back into town I was immediately greeted by a frenzied mob of kids eager to explain what happened. Now, San Dionisio is a small town and news travels fast. That also means that rumors and exaggerations are not only to be expected but fester and grow into elaborate stories accepted as truth. I told all the kids not to worry about it, that no one was kicked off the team and that we would all practice on Monday as if nothing happened. Well, this entire week practice went really well and the kids were on pretty good behavior for 14 and 12 year olds. They seem to respect me and it is pretty amazing that I have the power to control of kids voluntarily without the backing of an entire school department. The real trouble happens after practice when we go to see Julio regarding our uniforms. (A small digression: Julio went with the team earlier this week to solicit money from the beneficiary owner to buy uniforms. The man kindly obliged and gave Julio 100 cords to buy a model uniform and then the man would buy the remaining uniforms. Well after our little disagreement, Julio decided to leave the team and run off and form his own team. He also took it upon himself to use this money for his new team) We decided that we needed to confront Julio about this issue and see if we could confiscate the money. To make a long story short, it did not go well. Julio lied through his teeth about the money and said that he already spent it; he also mentioned how he talked to the man at the beneficiary which is a confirmed lie due to the fact that the man was out of town all week. It gets worse; Julio’s mom decided to come out and started bickering with the kids I brought along as witnesses. They were all so distraught, but in a positive note, we all kept our cool, I did get a little sarcastic about saying, “In my culture it is not acceptable to ask for money with one group and then use it with another. It might just be a cultural misunderstanding, but I see that as stealing and I think in your conscience you know that as well;” probably a little too harsh, but I was pissed and this was the last straw. This is the same kid who was using my name and position for his benefit. I already talked about how when we were soliciting for money or the town’s truck he was very quick to mention how it was always me wanting it and that I was in charge. Oh no, I will not have him speak for me and it is scary to say, but he will not be using my clout for his own cause.
Surprisingly this did not demoralize the team, quite the contrary, it seemed to invigorate them and the team practiced well with me the next day. I was never a big proponent of getting uniforms, but now I wanted them just to throw it in Julio’s face. Yes, I can be mean and vindictive when I want to. My team surprised me this morning by showing up at my door with letters already typed and they just needed my signatures. I was so proud of them and later in the day they already had the model jersey ready to show our sponsor.
Everything seems to be falling in place for my youth group. I have a solid group of 15 players and they are more committed than I am. I have a fellow professor who is very interested and wants to start leading practices with me. This professor also has extra soccer balls we can use and helps me find teams to play against. This weekend we have the town of Muy Muy coming to play against us here in San Dionisio and we are turning it into a mini tournament with little kids playing in the morning, my team in the afternoon, and the older kids in the late afternoon. It is amazing if you just let the events unfold before you how they seem to just work. Not bad for a week’s worth of work and it all starts over again this Monday.
Now, as bad as I make it sound, I am really proud of my youth group and I want to make that disclaimer now and make it clear. There are many amazing things about my group and I am lucky to have even formed one and to have one that continually wishes to meet, but still… damn. As I discussed earlier, the whole mess began when I formed this group with the help of another Nica. Now his age is kind of an enigma and it is impossible to tell by looking at him. I have narrowed it down to 17 to 21, but I have heard as young as 15 and as old as 23. I prefer to go with the interquartile range, but my leading piece of evidence is that he is still in school because I have seen him in the uniform and it was at a primary school. However, to disclaim this evidence and exclude it from this make shift trial is that grades are in no way a marker of age in Nicaragua; hence the example of me teaching a 16 year old 5th grader.
Now that we have re-established the antagonist, let us set the story in motion. It happens that I went to Matagalpa last weekend on Sunday to do some errands and meet up with my friends. I was excited to get out of site for the day and all the kids agreed that Sunday was a good day to just rest and leave our meetings alone. Well, I guess that changed right after I left and they had a practice with my doppelganger, Julio. This anomaly of age led the practice, but I guess some type of drama unfolded and depending who you talked to he either a) eliminated half the team b) was attacked by the team or c) a ostentatious coup d’état. I prefer the latter but that is just because I read way too many political books and secretly want to take over the world someday. Needless to say when I got back into town I was immediately greeted by a frenzied mob of kids eager to explain what happened. Now, San Dionisio is a small town and news travels fast. That also means that rumors and exaggerations are not only to be expected but fester and grow into elaborate stories accepted as truth. I told all the kids not to worry about it, that no one was kicked off the team and that we would all practice on Monday as if nothing happened. Well, this entire week practice went really well and the kids were on pretty good behavior for 14 and 12 year olds. They seem to respect me and it is pretty amazing that I have the power to control of kids voluntarily without the backing of an entire school department. The real trouble happens after practice when we go to see Julio regarding our uniforms. (A small digression: Julio went with the team earlier this week to solicit money from the beneficiary owner to buy uniforms. The man kindly obliged and gave Julio 100 cords to buy a model uniform and then the man would buy the remaining uniforms. Well after our little disagreement, Julio decided to leave the team and run off and form his own team. He also took it upon himself to use this money for his new team) We decided that we needed to confront Julio about this issue and see if we could confiscate the money. To make a long story short, it did not go well. Julio lied through his teeth about the money and said that he already spent it; he also mentioned how he talked to the man at the beneficiary which is a confirmed lie due to the fact that the man was out of town all week. It gets worse; Julio’s mom decided to come out and started bickering with the kids I brought along as witnesses. They were all so distraught, but in a positive note, we all kept our cool, I did get a little sarcastic about saying, “In my culture it is not acceptable to ask for money with one group and then use it with another. It might just be a cultural misunderstanding, but I see that as stealing and I think in your conscience you know that as well;” probably a little too harsh, but I was pissed and this was the last straw. This is the same kid who was using my name and position for his benefit. I already talked about how when we were soliciting for money or the town’s truck he was very quick to mention how it was always me wanting it and that I was in charge. Oh no, I will not have him speak for me and it is scary to say, but he will not be using my clout for his own cause.
Surprisingly this did not demoralize the team, quite the contrary, it seemed to invigorate them and the team practiced well with me the next day. I was never a big proponent of getting uniforms, but now I wanted them just to throw it in Julio’s face. Yes, I can be mean and vindictive when I want to. My team surprised me this morning by showing up at my door with letters already typed and they just needed my signatures. I was so proud of them and later in the day they already had the model jersey ready to show our sponsor.
Everything seems to be falling in place for my youth group. I have a solid group of 15 players and they are more committed than I am. I have a fellow professor who is very interested and wants to start leading practices with me. This professor also has extra soccer balls we can use and helps me find teams to play against. This weekend we have the town of Muy Muy coming to play against us here in San Dionisio and we are turning it into a mini tournament with little kids playing in the morning, my team in the afternoon, and the older kids in the late afternoon. It is amazing if you just let the events unfold before you how they seem to just work. Not bad for a week’s worth of work and it all starts over again this Monday.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Just Go With the Flow
Now the whole week is basically full of teaching experiences and me visiting different schools. However, there is a parallel story to this week. I somehow took on the task of forming an infantil futbol equipo. It seemed like such a good idea, and with my boss visiting later that week what better way to show off all my “work”. So, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I was busy each afternoon prepping for my soccer team and finding a place to play. The back story to this is that I met a Nicaraguan in town who already had a town and I was just going to shadow him and slowly take a more prominent role. Supposedly he had different plans and expected me to be the head honcho. Together we wrote up a letter to the Alcalde soliciting the use of the town’s truck to bring our 20 member team to Matagalpa to play against 7 other teams from the region. We luckily got them to supply gas as well and we got a local NGO to give us money to buy water for all the kids. Mission complete and it was only Monday. On Tuesday afternoon I walked the whole town to talk with all the parents of the players to introduce myself and get written permission that the kids could go with me. It is overkill for Nicaragua but I wanted to expose myself and show that I was committed to the team. So far so good right? Nope, by Wednesday the plan was unraveling at the seams. Apparently the teams in Matagalpa were actually in Guatemala and my so called partner switched the site to Muy Muy another town about 2 hours away. I was of course perplexed and less than pleased, but he said there was no reason to notify the parents. Ok, I was willing to go with it. Now the big drama happened on Friday when I discover that the NGO fell through on giving us money for the conductor and water. My partner in crime refused to fork over $1 to help me pay the driver and I snapped on him calling him pinche. To top it all off, I learned that there was no team in Muy Muy and that he now wanted us to go to Matiguas, even further away. At this point I was becoming apathetic and my cheap ass partner was saying how I had to pay for the letters and also use my phone saldo to call the professor in Muy Muy. I reluctantly obliged because I was just so fed up at this point and heard that the professor now wanted us to go to Rio Blanco. Now it is just getting ridiculous. I had permission and enough gas to go to Matagalpa and later Muy Muy, but to go even further without talking to the Alcalde or the parents was just too much. So on Saturday, at 6 am in the morning, I met with all the kids and learned that indeed the only team was in Matiguas. I made a hasty decision to cancel the game. I felt it improper to go somewhere without the consent of the parents and I felt that nothing good could come from switching locales so often. I decided solo because my oh so mighty partner slept in and didn’t wake up until 6:30. When he finally sauntered over at 7:10 I asked him where he was and he nonchalantly said that he had to shower. That is it; I am never working with this chump again. I told him I cancelled the whole event and I headed back up to my house to make breakfast and cool off.
Ok, already it is a pretty ridiculous story and shows how a weeks worth of work can go down the tubes in about 5 minutes. I was pretty upset since I tried so hard to get this work. I admit I was probably a little too stern and stubborn, but I was responsible for 20 kids. I was not willing to risk my name or the safety of the kids for a soccer game that might exist. I guess it is just Nicaraguan culture to be more whimsical, but I need structure and I am much more anal than the average American.
Here is the kicker. I was back in my house by 8 am and I was trying to think what I could do for the rest of the day. I was going to hunting for cow pies for my compost and dig a second compost pit when a kid passed by my door. He told me that we were going to go to Muy Muy after all. I was of course confused because I had already cancelled the truck, but I guess the professor was able to get Matiguas to come to Muy Muy to play. Well isn’t that dandy. All I could imagine was that the parents would think I was crazy for changing the itinerary so much and the logistical nightmare of rounding up all the kids again. What the hell, I figured I would give it a go. I got my gear repacked and walked out the door. Whoops, I locked my keys in the house. (A little prep, that week I tried several times to meet up with my landlady who lives 20 minutes from my house and each time the house was locked up tight like she was out of town). Shit, what was I going to do, I had no keys it was still early in the morning and I knew we wouldn’t get back until late. I had to think quickly, and perhaps in retrospect I realized I thought too quickly. I did what I have always wanted to and have until now only seen in the movies. I looked to my left, then my right, and kicked in my own front door. I know what you are thinking, but hear me out. I knew that the front lock was shit and figured the force would just pop the lock open. Nope, I bashed in the whole damn doorframe. Once I got over the shock, it was pretty cool. I mean I can cross that off the to-do list. However, that also sealed my fate about whether or not I was going to Muy Muy.
Thanks to my testosterone driven decision I was barraged by phone calls asking where I was or if the rumors were true about the game. I was visited by 3 panting kids who hiked all the way up to my house to get me and I had to break the news that somehow my door magically broke. Of course I lied and told them that the wood just gave way with age and mold. Another miracle was that I got the professor to supervise them and they did manage to go to Muy Muy. I am pretty bummed that I missed it, but at the same time I don’t really care. I was so upset with my partner and getting dicked around that I wanted to be free of the responsibility. Yet, I realize that this isn’t America and things work differently here and perhaps I need to be more flexible or in this case more like rubber.
Well I waited around the rest of the day for a guy down the street to come fix my door. It took him about two and a half hours of work to finally replace the wood and secure it to the concrete. I did however get to dig my second compost pit and fill up my first one with cow manure. Not the most exciting accomplishments, but it will pay off since my soil is currently horrid and can’t plant anything. I also reorganized my house and cleaned the whole yard by raking up the leaves and dead grass. Yet, to just put the final nail in the coffin around 5pm I heard shouting from town and learned that my youth group won in shoot-outs and that they had a great time. Damn Nicaraguans…they always get the last laugh.
So I learned a lot from my week of work and my final escapade on Saturday. It does not pay to be overly organized in Nicaragua. I guess the saying of going with the flow is applicable here and I need to heed the advice. I just pray I didn’t burn too many bridges by showing my disapproval of the situation prior to them leaving.
Ok, already it is a pretty ridiculous story and shows how a weeks worth of work can go down the tubes in about 5 minutes. I was pretty upset since I tried so hard to get this work. I admit I was probably a little too stern and stubborn, but I was responsible for 20 kids. I was not willing to risk my name or the safety of the kids for a soccer game that might exist. I guess it is just Nicaraguan culture to be more whimsical, but I need structure and I am much more anal than the average American.
Here is the kicker. I was back in my house by 8 am and I was trying to think what I could do for the rest of the day. I was going to hunting for cow pies for my compost and dig a second compost pit when a kid passed by my door. He told me that we were going to go to Muy Muy after all. I was of course confused because I had already cancelled the truck, but I guess the professor was able to get Matiguas to come to Muy Muy to play. Well isn’t that dandy. All I could imagine was that the parents would think I was crazy for changing the itinerary so much and the logistical nightmare of rounding up all the kids again. What the hell, I figured I would give it a go. I got my gear repacked and walked out the door. Whoops, I locked my keys in the house. (A little prep, that week I tried several times to meet up with my landlady who lives 20 minutes from my house and each time the house was locked up tight like she was out of town). Shit, what was I going to do, I had no keys it was still early in the morning and I knew we wouldn’t get back until late. I had to think quickly, and perhaps in retrospect I realized I thought too quickly. I did what I have always wanted to and have until now only seen in the movies. I looked to my left, then my right, and kicked in my own front door. I know what you are thinking, but hear me out. I knew that the front lock was shit and figured the force would just pop the lock open. Nope, I bashed in the whole damn doorframe. Once I got over the shock, it was pretty cool. I mean I can cross that off the to-do list. However, that also sealed my fate about whether or not I was going to Muy Muy.
Thanks to my testosterone driven decision I was barraged by phone calls asking where I was or if the rumors were true about the game. I was visited by 3 panting kids who hiked all the way up to my house to get me and I had to break the news that somehow my door magically broke. Of course I lied and told them that the wood just gave way with age and mold. Another miracle was that I got the professor to supervise them and they did manage to go to Muy Muy. I am pretty bummed that I missed it, but at the same time I don’t really care. I was so upset with my partner and getting dicked around that I wanted to be free of the responsibility. Yet, I realize that this isn’t America and things work differently here and perhaps I need to be more flexible or in this case more like rubber.
Well I waited around the rest of the day for a guy down the street to come fix my door. It took him about two and a half hours of work to finally replace the wood and secure it to the concrete. I did however get to dig my second compost pit and fill up my first one with cow manure. Not the most exciting accomplishments, but it will pay off since my soil is currently horrid and can’t plant anything. I also reorganized my house and cleaned the whole yard by raking up the leaves and dead grass. Yet, to just put the final nail in the coffin around 5pm I heard shouting from town and learned that my youth group won in shoot-outs and that they had a great time. Damn Nicaraguans…they always get the last laugh.
So I learned a lot from my week of work and my final escapade on Saturday. It does not pay to be overly organized in Nicaragua. I guess the saying of going with the flow is applicable here and I need to heed the advice. I just pray I didn’t burn too many bridges by showing my disapproval of the situation prior to them leaving.
Not Your Average Work Week
What a week it has been. Just two weeks ago I was wishing for the school year to begin in a futile attempt to combat boredom and feel more productive. Oh what a naïve wish that was. I got what I was asking for and now I am inundated with work and responsibilities. Where do I even begin to explain what has been going on?
Let’s start at the beginning. Although Monday is the beginning of the work week, we do things a little bit different here and school didn’t actually start until Tuesday. No biggie, Monday was a fairly normal day of just playing around with the kids, hanging out with my family, and savoring the last day of vacation. On Tuesday I was up at an unprecedented 4:45 in the morning in order to leave the house by 5:30 to start my arduous trek to Piedras Largas. It wasn’t too bad; it was actually refreshing to be up so early and about half way into my walk I was stopped by one of the fathers who remembered me during matriculation. He offered me a ride and I kindly accepted in his vehicle of two or more wheels. Well, I being the American am a stickler for time and I arrived thanks to the generosity of the father 30 minutes early. Perfect, I brought a book just for this circumstance and I figured I would knock off a chapter. Well two chapters later the first kid starts showing up. Another chapter later the first teacher decides to grace me with her presence. It is now 7:40, they are FORTY minutes late. That is unheard of; I haven’t seen such blatant disregard for time since my stint in Spain. I guess some cultural cues have a way of transcending oceans. The kicker is that the delegado ordered that we not actually do any teaching on the first day. So… when the kids finally did arrive, only about 50% showing up, we just played a few dinamicas and sent them on their way around 11:30. I was dumbfounded, it was basically pointless for me to go, but also pretty vital that I showed up. I mean, I didn’t teach or do anything “productive” but I got to know the kids, show the teachers I was committed and that will be worth every minute in the future. Well the day was also saved on the way back when we all started walking and got lucky with a passing truck who gave us a lift to the bottom of town.
Alright so we are making our way through the week. It is already hump day and I am off to Jicaro II for a double session. I am not exactly thrilled about the day, I have to leave my house at 5:45 am to catch the 6am bus, and then sit through 3rd-4th grade in the morning and 5th-6th in the evening until about 5pm. I knew it was going to be a long day and I even prepared a Nica style lunch and dinner. I made rice and beans, tostones and fried two eggs for the rice. I was ready and got to school by 6:20. I was super early but again I had my IPod and book so I was ready. Well, the professors at Jicaro made Piedras Largas look early. They finally sauntered up around 7:40. Little did I know that they got permission from the delegado to start classes later since there was a bus a 7 am. Ok, small little hiccup, but today was the first day of classes and me being an observer/TA. I was excited and at first and paid diligent attention. Yet, it began to wane about an hour into class and I started moving around pretending to read what the kids were working on. I am not necessarily a bad person or teacher; I just had no interest in learning what 14yr old 3rd graders were learning. Yet, I snapped out of my funk and actually taught a language arts lesson about expanding on their writing, including the 5 W’s and I pulled a few kids aside for math attention later in the day. Alright, so I am moving along. Next is the afternoon block with professor Benedicto. He is my friend that I mentioned way back when and is super eager to work with me. He has his head on straight and has a lot of experience teaching and belongs at an American university. I vowed to help him get a scholarship to study in the States and class with him was fun. He has a much more informal approach, yet the kids respond very well to it. He seems to command their respect without ever having to change out of his jolly form. It is pretty amazing to watch and the time flew by until it was time to catch the afternoon bus.
Alright Thursday, the end of the work week for me. For those of you paying close attention it was only a three day work week; not too shabby. I know that I can’t complain about my life here. I mean technically I have a job, I am paid, I can live comfortably here on my $200/month and I work about 4 days a week. It could be worse; I could be in America dealing with the fiasco that you are all living in. Ok, so Thursday was a monumental day because my boss, Maria Antonia, was coming to visit. I decided to head to my final school, El Cobano, in the morning and get in an hour with the teacher before Maria Antonia came. It was pretty startling to see the difference in teaching styles between Jicaro and El Cobano. This teacher was straight from the 1950’s. She would just yell at the kids call on a random student to do a math problem and let the rest just sit around and twiddle their fingers. I was ecstatic that I was able to bounce out of there after about an hour. So my visit with my boss went with mixed reviews. She was happy to see I have been working on my water project and I have a youth group, but she couldn’t get over my lack of progress on my garden, abono, and vivero. I don’t know what she expects, I mean I have talked with all the volunteers and no one has these yet and the group before us laughed when we asked how their progress was going. I at least had a compost started about a week earlier and a shanty semillero on my porch. Yet, I got scrutinized for my abono not being deep enough, my semillero had inadequate soil and my rationale about water seemed inept. When my boss finally left I felt like I had accomplished nothing in my two months of service. It is amazing how one meeting can completely crush any momentum you have. However, I did not let it discourage me. I am a person that needs pressure and deadlines and I used her criticism to jump start my work. That day I re-dug my compost pit and I can proudly say that it is a full meter deep now. The dirt however sucked, it made digging the pond look like playing in sand. The dirt here is a hard clay that somehow sticks to your shovel and it is more efficient to use your hands than any equipment. I also had several of my seeds finally germinate.
I have been up to a couple other things this week, but I’ll let you read about it in my next post. It has just been too dramatic and different to include with my mundane life of teaching.
That is my life in a nutshell. I have tried to be good and respond to everyone’s emails. I love getting them so even if you have a minute just write a letter and say hi. Also, if you are ever in the generous mood and want to send me anything by good'ol fashioned mail, I love getting any type of hand written letters or pictures. Or if you are really bored I need cd mixes since my music is getting old.
Let’s start at the beginning. Although Monday is the beginning of the work week, we do things a little bit different here and school didn’t actually start until Tuesday. No biggie, Monday was a fairly normal day of just playing around with the kids, hanging out with my family, and savoring the last day of vacation. On Tuesday I was up at an unprecedented 4:45 in the morning in order to leave the house by 5:30 to start my arduous trek to Piedras Largas. It wasn’t too bad; it was actually refreshing to be up so early and about half way into my walk I was stopped by one of the fathers who remembered me during matriculation. He offered me a ride and I kindly accepted in his vehicle of two or more wheels. Well, I being the American am a stickler for time and I arrived thanks to the generosity of the father 30 minutes early. Perfect, I brought a book just for this circumstance and I figured I would knock off a chapter. Well two chapters later the first kid starts showing up. Another chapter later the first teacher decides to grace me with her presence. It is now 7:40, they are FORTY minutes late. That is unheard of; I haven’t seen such blatant disregard for time since my stint in Spain. I guess some cultural cues have a way of transcending oceans. The kicker is that the delegado ordered that we not actually do any teaching on the first day. So… when the kids finally did arrive, only about 50% showing up, we just played a few dinamicas and sent them on their way around 11:30. I was dumbfounded, it was basically pointless for me to go, but also pretty vital that I showed up. I mean, I didn’t teach or do anything “productive” but I got to know the kids, show the teachers I was committed and that will be worth every minute in the future. Well the day was also saved on the way back when we all started walking and got lucky with a passing truck who gave us a lift to the bottom of town.
Alright so we are making our way through the week. It is already hump day and I am off to Jicaro II for a double session. I am not exactly thrilled about the day, I have to leave my house at 5:45 am to catch the 6am bus, and then sit through 3rd-4th grade in the morning and 5th-6th in the evening until about 5pm. I knew it was going to be a long day and I even prepared a Nica style lunch and dinner. I made rice and beans, tostones and fried two eggs for the rice. I was ready and got to school by 6:20. I was super early but again I had my IPod and book so I was ready. Well, the professors at Jicaro made Piedras Largas look early. They finally sauntered up around 7:40. Little did I know that they got permission from the delegado to start classes later since there was a bus a 7 am. Ok, small little hiccup, but today was the first day of classes and me being an observer/TA. I was excited and at first and paid diligent attention. Yet, it began to wane about an hour into class and I started moving around pretending to read what the kids were working on. I am not necessarily a bad person or teacher; I just had no interest in learning what 14yr old 3rd graders were learning. Yet, I snapped out of my funk and actually taught a language arts lesson about expanding on their writing, including the 5 W’s and I pulled a few kids aside for math attention later in the day. Alright, so I am moving along. Next is the afternoon block with professor Benedicto. He is my friend that I mentioned way back when and is super eager to work with me. He has his head on straight and has a lot of experience teaching and belongs at an American university. I vowed to help him get a scholarship to study in the States and class with him was fun. He has a much more informal approach, yet the kids respond very well to it. He seems to command their respect without ever having to change out of his jolly form. It is pretty amazing to watch and the time flew by until it was time to catch the afternoon bus.
Alright Thursday, the end of the work week for me. For those of you paying close attention it was only a three day work week; not too shabby. I know that I can’t complain about my life here. I mean technically I have a job, I am paid, I can live comfortably here on my $200/month and I work about 4 days a week. It could be worse; I could be in America dealing with the fiasco that you are all living in. Ok, so Thursday was a monumental day because my boss, Maria Antonia, was coming to visit. I decided to head to my final school, El Cobano, in the morning and get in an hour with the teacher before Maria Antonia came. It was pretty startling to see the difference in teaching styles between Jicaro and El Cobano. This teacher was straight from the 1950’s. She would just yell at the kids call on a random student to do a math problem and let the rest just sit around and twiddle their fingers. I was ecstatic that I was able to bounce out of there after about an hour. So my visit with my boss went with mixed reviews. She was happy to see I have been working on my water project and I have a youth group, but she couldn’t get over my lack of progress on my garden, abono, and vivero. I don’t know what she expects, I mean I have talked with all the volunteers and no one has these yet and the group before us laughed when we asked how their progress was going. I at least had a compost started about a week earlier and a shanty semillero on my porch. Yet, I got scrutinized for my abono not being deep enough, my semillero had inadequate soil and my rationale about water seemed inept. When my boss finally left I felt like I had accomplished nothing in my two months of service. It is amazing how one meeting can completely crush any momentum you have. However, I did not let it discourage me. I am a person that needs pressure and deadlines and I used her criticism to jump start my work. That day I re-dug my compost pit and I can proudly say that it is a full meter deep now. The dirt however sucked, it made digging the pond look like playing in sand. The dirt here is a hard clay that somehow sticks to your shovel and it is more efficient to use your hands than any equipment. I also had several of my seeds finally germinate.
I have been up to a couple other things this week, but I’ll let you read about it in my next post. It has just been too dramatic and different to include with my mundane life of teaching.
That is my life in a nutshell. I have tried to be good and respond to everyone’s emails. I love getting them so even if you have a minute just write a letter and say hi. Also, if you are ever in the generous mood and want to send me anything by good'ol fashioned mail, I love getting any type of hand written letters or pictures. Or if you are really bored I need cd mixes since my music is getting old.
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