Mama and Dad in Nicaragua Part I

I have been putting this off for some time now and it has become somewhat of a burden and a chore in my mind. I am hoping that the manner in which it is written doesn’t express my reluctance to write or the hesitant manner in which I pecked away at the keys. I promised I would be better, I swore to the stars I was going to turn a new leaf, but history has a way of repeating itself. Like a New Year’s diet I quickly reverted back to my old ways and did not write a word. In an attempt to not look like an entire bum I did write myself notes, I made fancy to-do lists with my blog at the top of the list, but it become somewhat of a heading of it’s own and thus ignored. I looked for every possible excuse: I had no pictures to accompany my stories or there was no power in town, or I had to teach, but most were just manifested excuses to make myself feel better.

I am finding it more difficult to write in much transpired retrospect, especially after nearly two weeks of procrastination. As a result I fear I will skim over some of the finer details and nuances of my parents’ visit. Let’s hope I do not bundle all my memories in a final push of exasperation to summarize all my cherished moments into nothing more than trite comments or half-witty remarks.

On to the main event: my parents flew all the way down to visit me in Nicaragua! It is not everyday that I get visitors, especially such important guests such s my mom and dad. I had been counting down the days for months and went through the gamut of emotions. I was stressed and anxious because I was nervous I didn’t have enough activities to keep my dad entertained or that my house wouldn’t be clean enough. I was upset that they were only coming for a week, but grateful that they even had a week here with me. Most surprisingly, I think my host family was looking forward to the visit more than me. Every time I went over I would be a quick check on how many days remained from either my host mom or Moncha (my aunt). I don’t think it was just because they were expecting gifts, I think that was Joel’s main motive, but I think they were honestly excited to be able to meet my family.

Here is why Nicaragua is ridiculous, but at the same time amazing. We planned the visit to fall in with my week long school vacation. It was the end of the first term and everyone gets a week off to reboot and just relax. My parents were flying in a little bit early and I was nervous because that meant I was going to miss two days of classes. I didn’t have to worry long because the unpredictability of Nicaragua had yet to play it’s part. A week before the vacation was Teacher Appreciation Day. Great, that meant we got Tuesday off, but wait! That was the governmental recognition of the day, the teachers decided to also cancel class Monday to observe it in the schools by giving the kids a free day. OK, we are slowly ticking off the days. Wednesday and Thursday are going to require a little more creativity from the teachers if they want to have those days off. Well, it is the end of the semester and aren’t all grades due? Perfect, there is Wednesday right there, how can teachers be expected to work if they have to compile grades and summarize attendance? And you know what that is just so exhausting, we might as well take Thursday off to finish up all the work and recover. Four days down and only one to go… this is a cake walk, first it is Friday and classes are regularly cancelled on Friday, plus they just had four days off, who is going to come? Might as well hack that day as well. And so this is how it came to be that my week prior to vacation turned into a vacation as well. It is funny that most teachers needed a vacation to prepare for their vacation. I wasn’t complaining, I got two weeks without school and didn’t have to worry about missing class because of my parents’ visit. Yet, at the same time it is pretty sad that two weeks were lost and that means less class time for the students who need it most.

Oh well, I am not here right now to talk about the woes of the Nicaraguan educational system or the work ethic of my peers, I have bigger things on my mind: my parents. I had been counting down the months since my parents announced that they would be coming. As the time approached I worked methodically from the months to the weeks, to the days, to the hours and minutes. For those of you who don’t remember I have a lot of free walking time on my ways to school and I like to keep busy by doing simple math problems. Stupid, I know, but that is what keeps me sane and I like numbers because they are always true and so black and white. Anyways, back to the point, on some of my longer walks I would work out different math equations trying to figure out how much of a percentage each day represented and how the daily value of the percentage would change with each completed day. I am quite proud to say that I had a margin of error of around 0.1% assuming that there were no flight delays. Well the whole point of that digression was to illustrate that I was excited for my parents to come and I was also very anxious. What would my parents want to do? How would I keep them busy, there really isn’t that much to do in San Dionisio. What if one of them gets sick, what do I do about water or the food? How would my dad adjust to the idea of a latrine? Did I need to do anything about the car or get maps for any of our trips, hotel reservations, an itinerary? All these concerns began to press on my mind as the day approached, but I didn’t care I was ready to be tour-guide. As the first photo illustrates, I pulled off the tour-guide look quite well. In Matagalpa we stopped into the city museum and I showed my parents where we would be heading and what to expect in the upcoming week.

Our drive to Matagalpa was pretty uneventful. I concluded that we didn’t need any maps because I had been on the route so many times on the bus, but I did not anticipate the road construction and the half-ass attempt at making a detour. To give Nicaragua credit, they at least had detour signs and planned for diverting traffic, but halfway through they just decided to stop posting signs. I didn’t want my dad to think I was unprepared and I just trusted my gut sense about which direction was north and luckily I was right. The big part of our trip however was from Matagalpa to San Dionisio. We were in a Toyota Yaris; not your off-roading type of car. With the rainy season upon us the roads getting to my site had only gotten worse and it was a nerve raking ride. My dad was already exhausted from all his phone conferences the week before and the early 3am wake-up call to catch the plane. The last 2hours of our drive on the barely passable roads was the last straw for my dad. At times it felt like we were trying to navigate through a dried up river bed and at our crawl of 5mph we were just waiting to hear the anticipated crunch or clank of the car bottoming out. I figured we would make it back to my site quicker than the normal 1hr 40min bus ride, but instead it took us just over 2hrs. We made a quick stop to see my host family, but we quickly retired up to my house for some much needed rest. Yet, our night was not over yet. Once we got up to my house my neighbors were concerned about the car being left out; they said it was dangerous and parts would be stolen. In a jam I figured we could park it up at the Centro de Salud which is the “hospital” up the road from my house. We drove it the two blocks to the center and paid the security guard with a bag of chocolates.
I knew it was a hard day for my dad the following day when he did not get up until 10AM! For those of you know my dad, this is the man who says you can rest when you are dead and often works 13hr days. The idea of him sleeping more than 6hrs is ludicrous never mind sleeping past the crack of dawn. My mom and I knew he needed it, but we did not try to mute any of our chores, yet he slept on. That night I didn’t really sleep because I figured I would be a good son and let my parents have the bed and I would take my hammock. Huge mistake… first a hammock has a romanticized vision of being comfortable, oh quite the contrary. It is great for relaxing for a bit, but not sleeping. Also, the mosquitoes they are ferocious and would not cease. I finally relocated to my concrete floor with a towel as padding and decided it was better to suffocate under my sheet than be fresh meat for the mosquitoes. Needless to say, we were piling three to the bed the next night. Well my first surprise of the vacation was that I prepared a gourmet breakfast for my parents. I even surprised myself, it was not a Nica breakfast by any measure. Thanks to having the extra funds of my parents I was able to buy coffee, orange juice, and milk. I cooked bacon, eggs, pancakes, complimentary with orange juice and coffee. Even with all of my cooking my dad did not stir until the smell of coffee lofted in the air. I would love to post a picture of him passed out under the mosquitero, but I just don’t think it would be fair to him.

P.S.: I have lost a little bit of weight since getting to Nicaragua: 20lbs to be exact. Try and guess where I lost most of the weight.
That day we spent touring around town and visiting my host family and all my friends. I swear I didn’t stage it, but all the town kids seemed to be extra social. I was being greeted by absolutely everyone and it was great to show my parents how much the town really does look out for me. They also got to experience what Latino culture is famous for, a much more open society that lives in the streets. As we walked through the town my dad could not believe how everyone is either sitting out in front of their homes or visiting neighbors. It is a far cry from the States where people barricade themselves in their own prisons and often don’t even know their own neighbors. Perhaps everyone was much more open because I was walking around with two unknown gringos and it was the attraction. Did I mention that I live in a small town? Out of towners, whether Nica or foreign, are instantly spotted and by tripling the local gringo count it was ridiculous to think we would be unnoticed. The funny anecdote from the day was visiting the local pulperia down the street from my house. My parents brought leather sandals for the son and when I presented them to the family I refused to take any money. Well, this didn’t fly with the family and they said that I had to promise to come over for lunch the following day where they would cook us a chicken. I finally agreed and told them we wanted it grilled since I figured it would be the easiest to digest and introduce the least potential pathogens. Well that following day we showed up for lunch. Just to give you an idea, invites to peoples houses are not like in the States. We were seated, we talked for a bit in their front room and then the mother brought out the lunch. It just so happened it was a chicken from their patio, probably one of them that I used to throw rocks at when I was bored. Rather than all sitting at a table we are given the food in our laps and then the hosts disappear. It is very awkward because you expect to continue conversation with the hosts; nope, they disappear and it feels more like you are in an odd restaurant rather than visiting a friend. It was a very nice gesture, but by the end of our two days in San Dionisio and countless awkward encounters of being offered way too many sugary drinks and sodas, I think we were all ready to move on.
Before I get too far ahead of my self; after our second night in site and sleeping three to the bed my dad and I headed out for a nice morning walk. I wanted to show my dad around the town and my mom wanted to stay behind and organize the house. I brought my dad to El Cobano, my closest school. It was only a 30 minute walk and in that time we crossed one suspension bridge, and forded two rivers. It was the perfect example of what I have to deal with in Nicaragua. My dad got to rough it by jumping rocks across a river, seeing people passing on horses and plenty of wandering cows, chickens, or pigs. The real excitement was on the way back when we ran into a group of Congo Monkeys hanging out in the tree. Another cool part was my dad got to see what a Nicaraguan school is like. He was quite shocked about how barren they really are. The schools are nothing more than concrete shells that are divided into two rooms for two multi-grade classrooms. I showed off my little garden and I explained how the large mud-field in front is used for sports and there is no electricity or running water.

Once back at my house my mom had the whole house back in spick and span condition. I guess I shouldn’t say back because I have never seen it that clean. All the new toys and gear my parents brought me was neatly organized and stored. I am sad to say I have not been able to keep it up in such nice conditions. Anyways, after our little morning walk I headed out into the patio to show off the garden I had at my house. I have about 30 plants of corn, 20 beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, and peppers. My mom and I did a little gardening together and we shared ideas about what I was doing in Nicaragua and how her garden was doing back in the States. It is kind of funny that this is my main project in the Peace Corps and it is seen as a pass time in the States.

For those of you keeping track, my parents flew into Nicaragua on a Thursday and we had spent two full days in my site. After my gardening, lunch, and trip to El Cobano it was Sunday afternoon and we made one more pit stop to visit my host family. I felt mildly uncomfortable because my host family kept inviting us over for lunch or dinner and we managed to finagle our way out of the commitment. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to spend time with them, just we knew it entailed being served gallo pinto in front of the tv and then being deserted. Also all conversations fall into either two categories: the weather or differences in the States. Not too exciting especially after having those same conversations with about half the town. OH, before I forget one great story was when we went to visit my teacher at the school San Cayetano. Just a little background, she already made me highly uncomfortable and I think that she might have a few screws loose. I know my Spanish isn’t perfect, but at least most people can understand me and I do get a few compliments. Well with this teacher I will often say something and she will answer with a totally irrelevant comment or just stroke my arm. Mental impairment might be a little harsh, but she is an odd one. Not to have that influence your opinion about what I am going to describe, but just imagine the three of us sitting in her house and a palpable air of uneasiness surrounding us all. As we enter we are offered seats like always and immediately given a glass of sugar with a splash of water. The conversation starts off plain enough when all of a sudden my teacher starts to stare at my dad. She then comments at how handsome he is and wants a picture with him. My mom is right there next to him and she speaks Spanish, but my teacher just keeps saying over and over again how young my dad is and how he always has someone in Nicaragua… odd. Anyways a follow-up is when I went to teach the following week my teacher announced to the whole class how my family came to visit and the only other detail she divulged was how handsome my dad was.

Enough weird stories and awkward encounters, it was time to get on with our trip and as the tour-guide I had to make sure we stuck to our itinerary. That Sunday we left San Dionisio to pass through the hellish road back to Matagalpa and then off to Leon. On our way I figured we could make on pit-stop at my school, Jicaro II. It was right off the road and up a bit of a hill. Jicaro is where I had done the most environmental work and also the school with the most beautiful views. The school is located on the top of a hill at the mouth of the valley and has a commanding view of the entire area. When we got to the school we were met by four of my students who acted as our honorary chaperones. It was cute since they just wanted to be around my parents and were curious why my parents had such interest in seeing a school or plants for that matter. I got a few customary shots of my parents with the kids and then we were on our way heading back down the hill. I decided to take point since I knew the easiest path back when all of a sudden I heard a scream. I figured my mom just saw a scorpion or a snake, but when I turned around she was gone. I looked down and I found her on the ground, and as I scanned up I saw that there was a huge skid mark, I slowly pieced together what happened and couldn’t help but laugh. My mom had slipped in a cow pie and came close to sitting in it. I wasn’t even shocked or grossed out, I have just become so accustomed to seeing cow pies everywhere and often our soccer is filled with cow pies like land mines. Well I had to take advantage of the moment and took several pictures of my mom on the ground and of her meticulously trying to clean it off her shoe.

To end the first leg of our trip we made it to Matagalpa and were on our way to Leon. I still had not looked at any maps, but this is Nicaragua and there just aren’t as many streets as there are in the States. The two hour drive to Leon only consisted of about three turns and they were fairly blatant. The real shock came when my dad pulled off on the highway and got out. It was my turn to drive. This was a manual car, I don’t know how to drive manual. My dad figured it was a rental car and what better way to learn than on someone else’s car. I was very nervous to say the least. This was not like touring around a parking lot, we were on the side of a highway (picture a state highway) and we were in a foreign country. Well trial by fire, right? I waited for the largest gap possible and slowly tried to get the car into gear. I had my dad yelling into the ear to accelerate already and I just yelled back that this was my first time. Somehow I managed to take off on the first go without stalling and I was on my way. It wasn’t the fastest 0-60, but I did it and only accidentally hit reverse instead of 5th gear twice during our trip. The other big surprise was I kept driving once we got to Leon, that means city driving, speed bumps, and stop and go. I kept my composure, but when I headed down the wrong way of a one-way street I freaked out and kept stalling and gave up the reigns.