Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Malanga, school garden, and new furniture!


Sept. 15, 2011

Today I spent the morning aimlessly following Don Pantaleon around his malanga plantation (I guess you could call it a plantation).  Malanga is a root vegetable grown here in Nicaragua that is one of the bastamientos food options.  Bastamientos are the things always served with a meal to ensure you’re full when you’re done, and they include things like tortillas, cooked plantains, yuca (another root vegetable), cooked bananas, potatoes, and of course malanga.  Here at my house there’s no shortage of tortillas, and I’m always expected to have one with a meal whether or not there’s huge amounts of potatoes and rice put into my chicken soup.  I think Esmeralda’s getting used to my different eating habits because she doesn’t hand me a tortilla every single time anymore, but still tells me I should have one.  

Let me give you an idea of what I did yesterday: it was the second time I’ve gone out to do some actual agricultural work here in Wale.  I woke up early at 5:30am and followed Don Pantaleon out to his malanga field to help him “clean” the malanga.  That’s how it’s translated to English.  I was told we were going to be “limpiando malanga”, which literally means “cleaning malanga”, so I thought we’d be pulling the roots out of the ground and washing them or something.  But I know at this point just not to expect anything and go with the flow, because many things can’t be taken literally here, especially when my Spanish is still in the works.  So I’m handed a freshly sharpened machete and off we go.  It was about a ½ hour walk down into another part of Wale I hadn’t been to, so that was good.  We crossed the river a few times (which is more the size of a stream right now since it’s hasn’t been raining too much lately) and ended up in this valley surrounded by dried corn.  The land he uses to grow malanga is leased, so there are all kinds of other parcels surrounding it who are leased by others and mostly used to grow corn.  Right now the corn is on its way out, so the stalks are all dried up and yellow and bent in half to ensure the corn stays dry from the rain.  I love it because it reminds me of the Fall season back home right around Halloween time. There’s no autumn season here, but it is September, so the brown dried corn stalks help to set the scene a little bit.  

He gives me a little demonstration on how the malanga is “cleaned”, by trimming off the outer browning stalks of the plant at the base and chopping away at the weeds.  Oh, I get it; it’s like pruning and weeding then. “Cleaning” makes sense now.  So each one of us takes a row side by side and works our way down the whole line, turning at the end and coming back the other way down another row.  The plants look like some type of water lily (and they actually grow best right next to water, like the stream), and right now his plants are about 5-6 feet tall.  The stalks come straight up out of the ground and kind of fan out as new ones pop out of the center, looking similar to makeup of a banana tree stalk.  They’re super wet plants, meaning the leaves are like big cups facing upwards towards the sky which catch rainwater easily as well as the centers of all the stalks, so when sliced into with a machete they gush out the stream of water that’s collected there.  It had poured rain for the first time in over a week the night before, so needless to say we were soaking wet just after the first row.  Since the huge leaves are right at face level you have to bend at the waist to cut around the base of each plant, and to just see where you’re going.  So that was the position I took for about 2 hours, bent over with machete in hand, neck crooked to the side to see the plant in front of me, getting doused with water each time my back hit a water-filled leaf.  Some of it went right down the back of my pants.  There was no point in wearing a hat since we were under the shade of the giant leaves, plus I wouldn’t have seen where I was going with a brim on, so I donned my bandana to keep my wet bangs out of my face.  After 6 long rows working in that position my body was pretty sore, and knew it would feel even worse the next day (which it does!), and I had managed to get a blister to start forming on my pinky finger (?), so I was glad that at 10am he said we were done for now and headed back home.  I was sopping wet, not from sweating though, which felt weird, so bathing before lunch felt really good, mostly because I couldn’t wait to get the slimy dead leaves off me, plus all the other random watery bugs that managed to get into my clothes after having bit me first.  Plus, I must say that I’ve finally gotten used to bathing in cold water every day.  It actually feels very refreshing after a hot sweaty day, even if I don’t end up bathing until the evening once it’s cooled down a bit.  


So today when I woke up it felt like my legs, butt, and neck had been hit by a truck, but I knew he was going back out again to work and I didn’t want to miss another Nica Ag lesson.  This time he brought with him a big plastic backpack sprayer to apply a fertilizer and potassium mixture to the malanga.  One of his sons and two workers had already left to finish cleaning the malanga that we didn’t finish yesterday, so I just followed him around while he sprayed the leaves.  We were out there for about 3 hours, and there was nothing for me to do but watch him spray the plants and wander around taking tons of photos.  I felt pretty useless not helping with something, but considering how sore I was it didn’t really bother me that much.  It’s not like he had another sprayer I could use, and he probably liked my lack of “help” considering how slow I was the day before trying to keep up in my row.  So I hiked up to the top of a hill and took in the sights.  It was the first time I could really stop and watch the birds that are in the area.  I attempted to take some close-ups of some smaller birds that were frequenting  a nearby tree, and got some that are good enough to hopefully identify what they are (Jim, I’ll need your help on this one!).  I also had my first official crap in the woods (sorry, but that’s what we volunteers do, talk about our poop).  My stomach hadn’t felt too great when I first got up, and after about 2 hours just standing around taking in the scenery, I had to go.  Don Pantaleon seemed content with his spraying and just kept filling up the sprayer with more and more mixture, so I took the opportunity to go off by myself to find a secluded spot before it got unbearable.  Luckily, I’m always prepared with my little baggie of emergency necessities (hand sanitizer, various pills for various bodily needs, wet wipes, sunscreen, and, ta-dah! toilet paper), so I had no problem taking care of business.  


At 11am we started heading back, and let me tell you, it’s much harder (but still possible) to stop and take pictures when following steadily behind a person who’s lived here for 17 years, just spent the morning working out in the heat on the farm, is ready to head home to eat lunch, and doesn’t think to stop and “smell the roses” or take a photo every 10 seconds like I do (I mean who wouldn’t?  It’s freakin’ gorgeous here).  So I had to be quick and crafty with the camera in my right hand and the machete in my left, walking up steep hills, through rivers, on rocky pathways, through barbed wire fences, and through people’s chicken-filled yards, all with thinly soled rubber boots on.  A typical day trek for an Ag volunteer.  Overall it’s been great to get out, even if I hate getting up early.  It’s all worth it, and I’m trying to soak everything in as best I can, the agricultural learning experience as well as the scenery.  I can’t forget where I’ve been given the privilege to live for 2 years, in Nicaragua, in tropical Central America.  Why haven’t I been getting up early every day?



Sept. 19, 2011

So I have been making a point not to sleep in and waste the morning, which means for me, getting up at 7 am each morning, whether or not I have anything planned for the day.  I now consider sleeping in late 7:30, which is a milestone compared to my weekends back home.  This past week I didn’t have a whole lot planned ahead of time, so I found myself spending extra time to make breakfast (bowls of cornflakes with granola and two scrambled eggs with chicken hot dogs) from the new goodies I bought at the new grocery store in Jinotega.  Then I would do some laundry, or play with the kitten, or sit in the hammock and read the latest book I got my hands on (Somebody to Love? By Grace Slick, mailed to me by my dad, thank you, by the way!  I’ve already finished it).  Basically a whole lot of relaxing, procrastinating, and not a lot of working, except for that one day cutting malanga.  It had been in the back of my mind the whole week to go out and attempt to invite as many people as I could to another meeting to work on a needs list for the community.  I had nothing planned for Saturday, and that’s usually a good day to hold meetings, so I had no reason not to go out and at least try to organize these people for one more “Sarah meeting”.  I feel like they’ve caught on to how silly they can be, seeing as I’m following the protocol of the Peace Corps’ “getting to know your community” by doing a seasonal calendar, daily activity schedule, and community map (called PACA tools, or Using Participatory Analysis for Community Action) to find out Wale’s needs.  I’ve held 5 meetings so far, and the only meeting where more than 7 or 8 people showed up was the monthly Empresa meeting that I pretty much leeched off of.  They weren’t really there for me, but I used them anyways.  Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.  But I did learn that that was an un-ideal situation seeing as I used about 2 hours of their meeting time.  So every meeting since then has been planned just for me, which means I usually get between 5 and 8 participants.  Ten if I’m lucky.  It’s just really hard to organize people here.  They just don’t want to show up to meetings.  But, after spending all of Friday morning and part of the afternoon walking to every single house down the hill from mine and inviting everyone I could to my meeting on Saturday, I had the “regulars” show up, who are all the people that I already know that live close to the school where the meeting was held.  Only one new person who I had met for the first time on Friday showed up.  But hey, at least they show up at all.  So we did the activity and I got mediocre results, with no real needs list as a result since they all like to talk at the same time and cut each other off and don’t really seem to understand the probing questions I have for them regarding improving their daily work load.  I think I just really need to improve my skills on holding orderly, productive meetings that produce results.  

Another issue I’ve been working on is getting my newly-made furniture to my house.  I had designed a little bed-side table and perchero (clothes rack) to be made by a carpenter in the local town of Praderas.  I have stopped by his workshop 3 times since he said they would be done, but he wasn’t there most of the time and I could see that they weren’t finished by looking at the pieces of the perchero in his workshop.  I attempted to go pick them up this morning (since he told me two days ago that they’d be done yesterday, but he was there still working on the perchero.   He has mostly finished the little table, minus the shiny varnish, and the two shelves plus the varnish on the perchero have yet to be completed.  So, hopefully this week sometime they’ll be done completely, then I’ll somehow have to get the furniture to my house, which means paying someone with a pick-up truck to haul it for me.  Don Pantaleon told me to just put it on the bus, but that seems way too sketchy.  The last thing I want is to haul my finally finished but broken furniture home off the roof of an old beat up school bus. 

In other interesting news, I noticed for the first time (I don’t know how I missed it before) this casita, a little house, located just down the road from where I’m living now that’s between the houses of two families I know.  I had never noticed it before (probably due to its small size), but it’s this little single room house that’s always closed up.  I asked one of the guys that’s part of the community bank group that lives right next to it who lives there, and he said no one does at the moment.  He told me his grandmother (who’s also a part of the community bank) owns it and built it to be leased (for 1/3 the price I’m paying my family now), but no one is leasing it right now.  I told him that that may be something I’d be interested in checking out in the future since I have the choice to move out after 6 months with my home-stay family.  I haven’t actually looked inside the place yet, but I don’t want to get too eager about it in case it turns out to be too much work to fix up to move in, plus I don’t want my current family to think that I want to move out so soon.  That’s going to be a tough conversation, telling my family that I want to move out of their house to live alone.  Ouch.  But, they have been told (I think) that that’s often what “we Americans” do since we’re used to a more individual lifestyle with more privacy.  It’s not common for women to live alone here, so moving into my own place will be odd.  If this little casita works out in the end though it shouldn’t be too weird I hope, because it’s physically so close to the houses on either side.  It’ll be like living with a family but having my own separate living quarters, which is ideal.  I can cook in private if I want to, and I don’t have to hear the people in the next room farting and coughing all night.  Sounds great right?  I think so. 

Due to popular demand, I’ve decided to seriously prepare myself to start teaching English classes in my community.  I was finally able to download a copy of the TEFL manual (Teaching English as a Foreign Language), which is another sector of Peace Corps volunteers.  TEFL volunteers work in schools teaching teachers how to better teach English, and they have lots of resources that non-TEFL volunteers can use to teach in their own communities.  So I’m going to study up a bit and hopefully start classes on October 1st.  My goal is to teach a 2 hour class once a week, on Saturdays in the afternoon.  Various people of all ages have been asking me when I’m going to start, so I feel I must.  Hopefully I can teach well and they learn something.   

Sept. 25, 2011

My furniture is here!  The carpenter surprised me by showing up at my house one evening a few days after I had last checked in with him.  Him and some guy with a pickup truck randomly showed up with my little table and perchero all done and ready to go.  I was so happy.  So they’re now in my room, happily holding my clothes and bedside items.  I love order and organizing, it’s one of those things that helps keep me sane sometimes when everything else is going against the plan.  Next up is the desk he’s going to make me.  I had a hard time haggling a price with him, since at the moment there wasn’t anyone else around to help me figure out what he was saying or help me try to get a decent price for a desk that’s going to be much less work than the two items he just made for me.  I agreed on a price he gave me after dropping down just a bit, but I still think it’s too expensive.  I need to work on my bargaining skills. 

School garden update: the fence has finally been started!  I realized I couldn’t put all my trust in the teachers to help me organize parents to come help build a fence, so I showed up to a parent’s meeting two days ago for the 4th, 5th, and 6th grade classes and asked them to help support the garden for their kids by helping build the fence.  Not surprisingly, it was like pulling teeth getting people to volunteer.  I would make my statement/request and then wait for an answer from the group, and they would just stare right back at me in silence, some of them trying not to make eye contact.  It’s so frustrating.  Luckily the teachers are still on my side and do want the garden to happen so they kept calling people out and telling them that it’s the responsibility of the parents to support the school and the activities of the students.  Don Pedro, my community counterpart, was also there, and he jumped in a lot to make sure people put their name down on the list of one of the work days.  But it was tough; people just don’t seem to want to help sometimes.  Or maybe they’re truly too busy and that makes them look like they don’t want to help, I don’t know.  I don’t want to straight up blame people, but all I know is that from my experience so far it’s hard to motivate people to show up for meetings and to participate in community activities that involve me.  

So the next day I gathered my tools and headed to the school, passing Don Pedro’s house on the way.  He had signed up to work on the fence with that group, so I wanted to make sure he didn’t forget since he was so helpful getting people to “volunteer” at the parent’s meeting.  I stopped at his house and saw him sleeping shirtless on the bench on his porch.  I paused, wondering if I should say something, but one of his sons from inside the house saw me through the window and called my name, which woke him up.  He saw me and I said something like “are you sleeping?”  He said my name in surprise and jumped up and ran into the house before I could say anything more.  A minute later he came out with a shirt on and an armload of tools, and we headed to the school together.  I didn’t want to ask him if he forgot, I think he honestly just dozed off on the porch and I surprised him.  It was pretty funny though.  He said he had gotten up at 2am that morning to start the molino, since he’s the local molinero that grinds everyone’s corn for masa every morning.  People show up at his house every morning at 3am, so I don’t blame him for taking a siesta.  

 We were the first ones there of course, seeing as we were right on time, but eventually the rest of the guys showed up and started working on the fence.  I was digging and loosening up the dirt that always gets packed down with each rain while they dug holes and cut fence posts.  The school had a roll of barbed wire that we could use for the garden, and they had strung up two strands before a storm started blowing in.  Literally blowing in.  The wind had picked up in an instant, tossing trash and leaves and dirt and anything else that moved all over the place, to the point that I couldn’t see unless I wanted an eye full of storm.  Then it instantly started to pour rain, so we all ran to the shelter of the eaves of the school and waited for the storm to pass.  We waited about a ½ hour and the rain died down a bit, so we went back out and tried to finish a little more of what we started, but the rain didn’t let up, so we called it good for the day.  They said they would come back in two days to finish the fence and finish putting cal (lime) on the soil that I had worked on breaking up to prepare it for planting.  The next work group is scheduled to come on Wednesday, including the president of the local women’s group who knows a ton about agriculture.  She’s going to help me plant the beet (remolacha) and cabbage (repollo) seeds with the students since I know little about the seed spacing for those plants.  The plan is to plant the beets and cabbage inside the school where it’s fenced in, and two types of squash and the cucumbers outside the school where they’ve cleared some space for the more viney plants to spread.  I have started a seed nursery at my house with onion (cebolla), carrot (zanahoria) and tomato (tomate), hoping to transplant those to the school if they start growing.  After getting the fence finished, sacks included, and planting the seeds, the next goal is to keep the interest of the students in maintaining the garden.  Plus I hope the plants actually grow, that’d be nice too. 

Sept. 26, 2011

Today I went to the school again for another parent’s meeting, this time for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grades.  I showed up at 11am when the meeting was scheduled for, and we started at noon, with only about 7 parents showing up.  Even the teachers were frustrated this time that no one showed up and those that did were an hour late.  So I spoke with the few that were there about helping getting the garden started by finishing the fence and preparing the soil.  Unlike the last meeting, no one was there to really help me push the subject, so no one “volunteered” to help.  It all worked out okay though, since later in the afternoon the group that came out to work last Saturday came back to help finish the fence.  Well, two of them returned, plus one new guy.  But I’ll take what I can get.  I gathered my tools and headed to the school at 3pm like we had planned, and this time when I passed Don Pedro’s house his son called to me out the window if I had been asleep this time.  What?  He said that they were already at the school working since 2pm like planned.  I thought it was for 3pm!  So now I was the late one.  When I got there Don Pedro and two others were digging away, putting in more fence posts.  I was pleasantly surprised that someone actually got there before I did and had started working already.  But literally not five minutes later it started pouring down rain, so again, we all waited in the eaves of the school for the storm to pass.  This time it did actually completely pass, so the guys were actually able to completely finish the fence!  Huge sigh of relief!  One major step down; next is the addition of all the sacks to put up a visual barrier and attempt to keep out stray animals.  So far I’ve collected 12 sacks from random students, but hey, they’re bringing them at least.  Slowly but surely.  



Well, this Saturday is my first attempt at teaching English.  I’ll be giving classes every Saturday (when that’s possible) from 3-5pm.  I announced in the parent’s meeting today that I’d be starting classes, and they could pass it on, so pretty much all day at the school kids were approaching me asking if it was true that I was going to teach English and if they could come.  So at least the interest is there.  However, the community bank that I’m a part of will have to change the meeting times to earlier in the day since they normally meet Saturday afternoons.  I just had a meeting with them (well, those that showed up) about improving the bank for the next cycle starting in January.  I’m going by the community bank manual given to us by Peace Corps that gives all the details of a successful bank.  The group seems open to improving their meetings, including making rules for running the bank and actually making a box with padlocks to put the money in for safekeeping instead of just saving everyone’s money in someone’s closet.  The goal is to start a more successful bank for next year so that they can save more money, have access to larger loans, and set a good example for the community.  I’d like to try and start more community banks in Wale, since it’s a great way to teach saving money and it gives people access to credit and loans that they wouldn’t otherwise have.  Banks have been successful in other communities and I hope to get some started here. 

Spanish lesson for this blog: how the kids in my family say “mom”.  Normally kids say “mama” like really little kids do in the States, but the kids in my family call her “mita” (pronounced meetah), which is short for “mamita”, literally “little mom”, or a more loving or endearing way of calling someone.  For example, most everyone here calls me “Sarita” instead of Sarah, since it’s a sign of affection or a sweeter way of calling someone.    Apparently my home-stay mom used to call her grandmother “mita” when she was a kid, and it caught on with her children.  Often people refer to the little kids of the family as “mi amor”, my love, or I sometimes hear “mi palomita”, which is little dove.  However, “palomitas” is also the word for popcorn, so in my head I hear them calling their kids “my little popcorn”, which just sounds ridiculous. 

Well everyone, its Halloween season, and I’m super bummed that Nicaraguans don’t celebrate this awesome holiday.  It’s probably my favorite, so it sucks to be left out of all the festivities.  I’m hesitant to discuss the Halloween tradition here since lots of people are very religious and often associate “Noche de las Brujas” (witch’s night) with witchcraft and other devilish things.  Luckily, there is that feeling of autumn here in Wale at the moment, when the wind starts blowing the leaves around and the light changes colors a bit.  Plus it’s rainy, which sometimes comes with the beginning of the Fall/Winter seasons in the States.  I was really hoping for at least one pumpkin from the seeds I planted back in July, but only one plant actually started growing and it’s still very small.  Better luck next year I guess.  So you all have to e-mail me photos of your Jack-o-lanterns this year so I can celebrate from afar!

I have a kitten repeatedly crawling up my leg at the moment, crying for attention since he knows I’m the only one in this house who gives it to him, so I’d better end here.  I hope everyone’s doing well, having a good start to their school year or their continuing work year, and having fun thinking about potential Halloween costumes!

Until next time . . .

~Sarita~

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Nica dance party

Well look at this, I'm actually finding myself with some free time for once.   Free time, that is, on the internet where I don't find myself rushing to get all my computer needs satisfied in a few short hours before the bus leaves.  Today I'm in Jinotega again, this time for a Skype date with good ol' Tina during her going-away party for Peace Corps Peru!!  I get to catch up with some friends from home who I haven't talked to since just before leaving in April. 

Okay, so last night I attended my first Nica dance party.  It was the opening of the Empresa (ag-coop) in the nearby community of Loma Alta, about a 20 min bus ride up the hill from Wale.  They had just finished building their bodega (warehouse) for coffee, and had a ceremony to celebrate, followed by food and dancing afterwards.  I was already tired before we left, and almost didn't go.  The bus being late to take us there didn't help my indecision, but it did eventually pass by and I got on with Esmeralda and her so-called daughter-in-law (cause she's not actually married yet) Idalia.  They had dressed up really nice with heels and everything, and I had only put on my "nice" button up shirt, feeling lazy and unmotivated to change out of my tennis shoes and pants.  I figured I'd just be sitting in the back listening anyways where no one would really pay attention to me.  Note: I'm always noticed wherever I go, so I don't know why I thought that.  The bus ended up stopping about 2/3 of the way there for some kind of repair, so we got out to catch some fresh air (it's been hot lately) and Esmeralda stopped a friend who was driving by in his pickup and got us a ride the rest of the way.  We got there and listened to all the nice words various important people of the community had to say, then they set us loose to mingle and eat.  I thought we were leaving with the 5pm bus that passed by, since Esmeralda told me the "last bus" was what we'd take home.  Well, the 5pm bus passed by and we weren't on it.  I asked her why, and she said the last bus passed at 8pm, so we still had 3 hours to go. I was tired and ready to go at that point since it was in a community that I didn't know, but I was at the mercy of my family's time.  So we ate what the local "comedor" (eatery) had prepared for the event, stewed meat, which was delicious.  Unfortunately they served a fresco of nancite juice, which I hate due to it's sour/bitter taste, but I had brought my water like always (ever the prepared volunteer) so I was ok in the beverage department. 

After eating we mingled outside and talked a bit with the people who helped build the bodega, including the head of the local PCI department, which is Project Concern International, a US organization.  There was a Mariachi band there playing ranchera music, which is always fun, but the real party started when they turned out the lights in the bodega, turned on the lazers and strobes, and turned up the music.  There was a DJ playing a mix of popular dance tunes along with more regional reggaeton and latin-themed dance music.  So that's where I was.  I gave Esmeralda my bag, accepted the first offer to dance from a local, which was immediate, and hit the dance floor. 

Once I started dancing it was offer after offer the rest of the night by local guys asking me to dance.  The first kid who asked me right away said he was 25, although he looked 15, and asked where I lived and that he'd like to come visit my house sometime, and even asked which one was my mom, which gave me the impression he was going to ask her permission to date me or something.  I don't really know the customs for dating here yet, but he didn't end up doing anything, so that was a relief.  He did continue to ask me to dance non-stop the rest of the night though.  But so did everyone else.  I had some regulars, of all different ages, who kept coming back, but anytime a song changed or I went to sit down to rest for a bit, the swarm would surround me, presenting their hands to take, sometimes actually grabbing my arm and trying to pull me out of my chair onto the dance floor before any of the other guys could.  It was super funny, very flattering, but got kind of old and annoying towards the end.  The music would change from the lights-off club scene to lights-on mariachi band playing, so I did a little of both.  The ranchera  music is nice because it's cultural, but the dancing gets old.  Plus no one moves to the beat correctly, usually dancing too fast for the tempo, which annoys me.  But as the female partner you just have to bounce to whatever rhythm the guy is bouncing to.  So I just go with it. 

Well, the 8pm bus rolled by and Esmeralda showed no interest in getting on it.  Idalia said her dad would drive us home in his truck.  I ended up waiting until 11pm to leave.  I spent the last hour or so outside avoiding the flock of admirers and cooling off and resting my poor achy knees from all the dancing.  I need to warm up next time.  I went to bed at 11:30, the latest so far since moving to Wale.  Then I had to get up at 7am today to catch a bus to Jinotega for some long-needed internet time.  Yeah, I know it's still almost 8 hours of sleep, but normally I've been going to bed around 8pm and getting up at 7am, so yeah, I was tired this morning. 

Well, the garden work in the school that was to be done yesterday didn't happen, seeing as I was invited to go to the Empresa opening after I had made plans to work at the school.  So I canceled that and had my community bank meeting early, at noon instead of 3pm.  Luckily most of them showed up.  The ones that couldn't were making Nacatamales to sell.  I still need to learn how to make those.  Sounds like Christmas is the time that everyone makes them, so I'll have to wait til then.  Regarding the community bank group, they run their meetings very loosely and don't have real secure management of the money handed in, and I've been hoping to remedy that by showing them the official community bank book given to us by Peace Corps to explain to them how much more orderly and efficient their group could be.  Not to mention how much more money they could be saving/using for loans.  I lucked out at this meeting because one of the members brought it up himself that he wanted to try to make the group run more smoothly.  So I didn't even have to bring it up myself.  I told him I would help them with that and that next year when the new bank cycle starts we could start fresh with a new outlook and method.  They all seemed pleased with that, so I felt better.  The real success will be when then actually run their meetings more professionally all on their own without me telling them to.  I hope it works out. 

So I realized another random toiletry item that I can't get here that is something that I CAN live without, but would be nice to continue using if someone felt inclined to mail it to me: mouthwash.  Dental hygiene is nice :)

Hmmm, instead of a Spanish lesson this time, how about I share some baseball terminology that they use here in Nicaragua.  Base=base, but pronounced "ba-say", since the e has an "ay" sound in Spanish.  Pitcher=pitcher, but pronounced "pit-chair".  Bat=bata, ball=bola, and out=out.  So as you can see, they use pretty much the same words as the English, just with a funny pronunciation, sometimes to the point that I can't understand what the word is until I see it in action (like if they're watching a game on TV for example).  Then I laugh and say I finally understand.  Sometimes there are actual Spanish words for some of the terms, but they still use the English word since that's what is most commonly heard in regards to baseball. 

I'll leave you with that for now, seeing as my Skype date with Tina is looming near.  Hope everyone is well back home!  I miss you all,

~Sarah~

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Meetings , madrinas, and new pets


Aug. 30, 2011

I spent practically the whole day today in a FUMDEC (Fundacion Mujer y Desarollo Economica Comunitario which translates to Women’s Foundation for Community Economic Development) meeting where half the participants, all 20 of them, out of 40 total active members, were an hour and a half late showing up.  The head manager of the organization that was supposed to be there to present to the group didn’t even show.  So the meeting continued on without her, another technician showing up in her place to talk about planting corn.  I didn’t eat lunch, seeing as the meeting lasted until 2pm, after which Idalia and I went back into Praderas to buy Esmeralda some sugar, missing the earlier bus.   She wanted us to go buy sugar since this certain store where the sugar is cheaper will only sell 5 lbs. maximum to each person, and she wanted around 20.  So I went in to the store first, Idalia waiting outside so as not to be affiliated with me, and sneaky as I am, I decided to ask for 6 lbs., thinking they would think I was a naĂŻve foreigner that didn’t know they only sold 5 lbs. max.  It worked.  They guy looked at his coworker, as if making sure that was okay, and his coworker just nodded his head, as if to say “it’s okay for her, she doesn’t know any better”.  Idalia bought her 5 lbs., then we were off, to sit and wait for the 3pm bus that would pass by an hour later.  It had begun to rain pretty hard, so we were in no mindset to start walking anywhere (except for one quick errand I had which was to run across the street to buy some more packages of ramen noodles—I swear I’ll never get sick of those—and two more packages of baby wipes to clean my feet at night before going to bed after wearing flip-flops all day).  

While sitting under the awning of the store waiting for the bus, I started talking with a lady sitting next to me who kept looking at me and randomly commenting things at me like she knew me.  I asked where she lived, and she said Wale, like I should know.  I asked where, and she said the plastic house right next to me, like I had forgotten.  Turns out she’s my next door neighbor who I’ve never officially introduced myself to.  She actually does live in a plastic house, one which I can see from my bedroom window.  She reminded me that I had been in the back yard two days ago looking at the birds in the trees.  I guess after exiting the latrine the other day while looking up at the pair of orapendulas chit-chatting loudly I hadn’t realized that she had been watching me.  I’ve never actually seen her over there in her house, just heard her yelling at the kids who are always running amok in the yard.  So basically I felt really stupid for not having visited with the people who live directly next to me.  I walk by some houses every day and still don’t know the names of the people I say “adios” to.  I should be ashamed.  

The other morning I woke up to the unmistakable sounds of two of the younger brothers chasing a frantic chicken around the yard, Esmeralda yelling orders to get it and quickly.  Probably for soup for lunch, I thought.   They were unsuccessful in their pursuit, for when I came into the kitchen to eat breakfast there was no chicken a-stewin’.  I made myself a bowl of instant maple and brown sugar flavored oatmeal, thanks to Jodi, and watched Esmeralda scrub the molindero after her daily tortilla-making session earlier that morning.  The boys were still outside no doubt continuing with their morning chores, dictated constantly by their mother, when one of them came to the small kitchen window with a chicken in his hands.  He passed it to her through the window and without hesitation she twisted its body round and round, its head firmly in her grasp, and threw it into a vacant pocket under the wood stove to thrash violently while the nerves reacted during the post-death stage.  Meanwhile I ate my oatmeal.  Typical Nicaraguan breakfast moment, I thought. 

I had received a text message that night from Don Diego (originally known as Daryl, the other trainee who was to live in Pantasma with me and Paul, but had to remain in Spanish training for another month before swearing in) that he in fact did not pass his final language interview, and that Peace Corps was sending him home.  He’s got to be joking, I thought.  There’s no way that after 4 months of intensive training and effort that he would be sent home for a language requirement that he could only really improve on by living in a Nicaraguan community.  I texted the two other girls who had remained back with him to make sure, and the response I got was that the two of them passed and would be moving to their sites in two days, and that Daryl didn’t pass, and was going home.  I feel so terrible for him.  He had said during training that being a PC volunteer was a life-long dream of his, seeing as he was almost 60, and that he was finally at the point in his life where he could apply.  Well, he came all the way here to spend 4 months of training with the PC in Nicaragua, only to be sent back.  It’s a shame that he even came to his site for the week of the site visit to meet his home stay family and see the community where he would be living for potentially 2 years.  It makes me feel all the more lucky to be here with the level of Spanish that I do have, and to have been given the opportunity to work in a community in Nicaragua.  I shouldn’t be complaining about anything, I think now, considering there are people who want to be here and can’t for various reasons.  It makes me want to work that much harder to be a successful volunteer in my community.  I shouldn’t be taking anything for granted.  

The other night I witnessed voodoo in action.  No, not really, but it was certainly something unusual that I would expect to see from a witchdoctor somewhere deep in the jungle.  One of the neighbor boys has an inflamed knee, and the pain had been spreading up his thigh, through his back, all the way up into his forehead.  I know pretty much nothing about inflamed knees, but it looked like he had a bug bite or a sharp spine from a plant stuck in his knee due to the small bump that had formed on his kneecap.  He said it was neither of those things, that he didn’t know what had happened, just that he suddenly had this painful inflammation.  Esmeralda said she knew just what would cure it, and sent one of the boys up the street to acquire from a neighbor some “aceite de culebra”.  I had to ask her to repeat herself.  Did she actually just say snake oil?  She wants to put snake oil on his knee?  Sure enough, later that evening she asked me to grab her a chicken out of a tree so she could pluck some feathers to apply the oil.  I asked how exactly the oil was extracted from the snake, and she told me that a dead snake is hung from a post, and that the natural oils of the body accumulate in the tail, where it would then be cut and drained from the body into a vial.  Really good stuff, she told me.  Cures the pain and swelling in inflamed tissues.  The next day I asked her how the neighbor was doing, and she said he was better, that the oil worked well and caused the pain to go away and the swelling to reduce a bit, and that she had applied more oil to his knee earlier in the day.  Just a few minutes later he showed up to eat some dinner and I asked him myself how he was feeling, and he reiterated what she had said.  So who knows?  Maybe I shouldn’t be so skeptical about some of the odd medicinal practices here, but I can’t help feeling bad for the snakes.  

On some happy news, the house has a new kitten.  I sure hope this one survives.  Don Pantaleon was gifted a kitten by a neighbor (which makes me wonder why that neighbor won’t give me a kitten seeing as the whole world of Wale knows that I’m crazy about cats!).  I came home from a meeting one day and heard the sad cries of what I could tell was a super tiny kitten.   I followed the sound and found him tied to a leg of one of the cabinets in the kitchen by a shoelace.  Poor thing was screaming for attention, and lucky for him, Sarah was there to give it to him.  He’s really little, and really friendly, and it pains me to think that I’m the only person in a house of sometimes 10 people that will give him affection.  They’ll toss him some rice or pieces of a tortilla to eat, but that’s about it.  I feel like I should probably ignore him like the rest to he doesn’t get into the habit of rubbing against feet pleading for the attention that he won’t get from the Nicaraguans that live here.  Animals that get close enough to touch people’s feet get kicked away as if they were infectious.  It hurts me to see it.  But I just can’t help myself.  He can sit in my lap and get petted to high heaven as much as I have time for.  I just hope he learns that it’s only okay with me.  Really, I hope he survives to adulthood.  I won’t name him this time, maybe that will lessen the blow when something bad does happen.

Sept. 1, 2011

This past week I had the opportunity to work with a community group on one of the “tools” I’m supposed to implementing to help me understand the needs and wants of the community better.  We worked on a seasonal calendar, which outlines all the activities of the community throughout the year, including when they plant and harvest all their crops, the length of the school year, the seasons (when there’s more rain and when it’s dry), holidays celebrated, and overall family health issues.  The goal is to map out potential problems and issues faced by the community throughout the year, and to look for patterns to try and come up with solutions during those difficult times of the year.  I ended up using almost 2 hours out of this meeting that they had already planned, which made me feel bad.  But there was a lack of communication/understanding when I told the vice president of the group that I wanted to have a meeting with members of the group, but not during one of their monthly meetings so I wouldn’t use up all their time.  Turns out the date he gave me to use was the date of their monthly meeting.  I’ll have to be explicitly clear next time, because the meeting that day ended up running for 5 hours.  Not to mention that they all showed up two hours later than the meeting was planned to start.  Typical.  Frustrating.  

So far many of the needs of the community that have been listed are things that I don’t really think I’m capable of helping with.  For example, the two groups that I have worked with so far have put down electricity outages as an issue, which of course it is, but I don’t think I can go to the electric company and petition to allow people to pay per usage per month and not have to pay constantly for their electricity.  It’s not like in the States where we pay based on what we use, here they all pay one lump sum for electricity each month, regardless of the constant outages that occur pretty much every single day.  That’s a much bigger problem than just Wale is experiencing.  Another issue is the water quality.  In the winter there’s plenty of water but it’s often dirty due to the rains.  In the summer there’s a water shortage, and it’s still dirty.  I’m not sure how to help with the potable water issue; I don’t work in the potable water sector.  Another issue is better roads that are off the main highway.  They’re all dirt and are often hard to travel on during the rainy season, especially during harvesting time when farmers have to transport their goods to the highway to ship it to sell.  I was hoping there would be more necessities like income improvement during certain months or improved crop management.  I suppose I could find ways to do projects that deal with those issues even though they didn’t explicitly state that.  I don’t think I’m getting the full attention and understanding of the participants when doing these activities to get the types of answers I’m looking for.  Or maybe I am getting the right answers; I just have to look deeper to realize how I can help. 

Sept. 3, 2011

Today was the big desfile, or parade, in Praderas, where all the baseball teams from Pantasma show up in their new uniforms to start the season off.  Each team has a Madrina, or a “Godmother”, who represents their team and walks with them in the parade to show their support.  Guess who was asked to be Madrina of Wale?  That’s right, yours truly!  So I got all “dressed up”, as best as I could for an aggie PC volunteer, and put on a dress and heels and makeup (with lipstick!), plus a flower in my hair.  I even painted my fingernails and toenails red to go with the dress and the color of the team’s uniforms, white and red.  They gave me a white sash to wear that unfortunately said “Walle”.  I hate when words are misspelled.  You’d think people would know how to spell the names of the communities in their area.  I heard it was made by someone who doesn’t live in Wale.  

I got up at 5am to prepare for this exciting event.  We met in Praderas at 7:30 and waited for the rest of the team to show up.  Standing out in front of the same store as me was Lidia, the house mom of Daryl, who wouldn’t be returning to live in Cuatro Esquinas with her and her husband.  I had never met her, so was surprised when she approached me to ask when Don Diego would be returning.  I realized at that point that they hadn’t been told yet that he wasn’t coming back, so I unfortunately had to break the news to her.  She was disappointed, and I felt really bad because she told me she had called PC to ask when he’d be returning and they hadn’t returned her call.  How frustrating to wait an extra month and never hear that your volunteer isn’t returning to live with you and work in your community for 2 years.  I felt bad.  Later that day I ran into her husband who I had met earlier on when we all came to visit during site week.  He had heard by then that Daryl wasn’t returning, but could at least joke around with me that that means I have to come work in his community too since they now lost their volunteer.  I had to also explain to them that there wasn’t another volunteer to take his place.  They seem to think that there’s a line of us waiting to take the place of volunteers who can’t continue (or even start) their service.  I had to tell them that maybe next year their community would be chosen by the next group of volunteers that will be coming in.  They were bummed to hear that they would have to wait another year to see if they might be considered again.  

Back to the parade; it was super muddy in some parts of the streets, and all of us Madrinas were wearing heels, so that was unpleasant.  But it was a nice opportunity to be able to represent Wale, especially being a foreigner.  They gave me a baseball cap and a glove to wear during the parade, which is customary.  We all ended up in the baseball field of Praderas, after slipping and sliding in the mud and trying to avoid twisting my ankle on all the rocks in the road. It would have been pretty terrible to be the foreign Madrina who slipped and fell in the mud in her dress and heels.  At one point during the ceremony of greeting and welcoming all the teams, the MC called all the Madrinas to the center of the field, and I got super nervous thinking that we’d all have to say something.  I had no idea what to say, only “good luck” or something like that.  When we all arrived in the center I asked one of the presenters that I knew if that meant I had to say something, and he said I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to.  I told him I didn’t really know what to say since I’d never done this before.  So it was just kind of left at that, and we all waited in the center while other local officials and important people said their speeches and words of encouragement.  While we were waiting I started to prepare a few words in my head to say in case they did end up handing the microphone over to me.  At this point I actually felt ready and prepared to say at least a few short words to show my appreciation for being asked to represent Wale.  Then it was that guy’s turn to say something, the one I had told I didn’t know what to say.  He talked for a really long time, but at the end thanked all the beautiful Madrinas, and said “especially Sarah”, and then told everyone that I was from the States and it was good to have me hear and things like that.  I was ready for him to give me the chance to say something, but he ended up saying to everyone that I told him I wasn’t prepared to say anything, that I wasn’t used to these types of things and didn’t feel comfortable speaking.  I felt so embarrassed, thinking that everyone then thought I was scared or unprepared (I was unprepared, I guess).  I regret not correcting him in that moment and asking for the mic to say at least something short and sweet.  I was just so surprised that he told everyone I didn’t want to say anything.  I felt bad, like I let the team down by not saying some words of encouragement, or at least a thank you.  So far I’ve had a few opportunities to speak Spanish in front of a large group of people since I’ve moved here, and even though the huge gathering of baseball teams and onlookers was the largest group so far, I know I could have easily grabbed that mic and said something without being nervous.  Even though I still have a lot of Spanish to learn and I’m the only foreigner here in my community, I don’t really feel as nervous as I would back at home speaking in front of a large group of people.  I guess because I’m a volunteer I feel like it’s my duty to present myself well and professionally, and to be open to taking any opportunity possible to present myself, or at least try and make a good impression.  So far today was the first time that I failed in doing that, and if I could go back I would have taken that mic and spoken in front of all those people.  From here on out I just can’t let it slip by me again. 

Sept. 7, 2011

Today I had a meeting with a group of people that live in Wale 1, sector 2.  There are three Wales, and each one has various sectors.  By the way I found out finally that the total of Wale has about 3,000 people, considering all 3 parts, if you all were interested in population numbers.  This meeting today was to do a community map, but focusing on the sector they lived in.  It got complicated and I realized how clear I need to be in giving instructions to groups.  They didn’t really understand the main goal of the exercise was to help me see the community the way they see it, showing all the resources they use like where they get their water, areas they don’t like to be, areas they like to be, where they visit daily vs. monthly, etc.  They got too concerned with trying to make a very precise map with every single house and the measurements between roads and stuff.  I got kind of frustrated and had to repeat myself multiple times to make sure they switched gears to get the right type of information on the paper so I could analyze the needs of the community from their perspective.  It wasn’t the most productive meeting, and only about 4 people ended up working on the map, but overall it was a learning experience and I got to meet new people.  Not to mention that Wale is beautiful, and I got to see another part of it.  

The school garden project is going slowly.  I’ve been out there 3 different times with the expectation that there will be parents there to help me make the fence out of old sacks, and each time there’s only about 2 adults, sometimes including me, to do the work.  So we’ve been slowly but surely hacking away at the weeds trying to prepare the area for planting.  I’ve put too much faith in the teachers’ ability to get the word out that I’m going to have a work day in the garden to prepare for planting.  They just never seem to remember to spread the word to their students like they say they will, and flat out tell me the next day that they just forgot.  So this last time I typed out 40 invitations to give to one of the teachers to hand out during a school parade last Monday, and today, the day to get the work done, only 2 adults showed up, the rest were kids.  Don’t get me wrong, the kids can be good help sometimes, if they have worked before, but children swinging machetes is always a scary sight.  However it’s a very common thing here in Nicaragua.  So I don’t really know what to do regarding getting the fence done.  This Saturday will be yet another attempt to gather people to get the work done, wish me luck.  

This last week we had no water for 3 days.  Well, really they had closed the access at the community well due to the heavy rains since it gets really muddy, so the spigot for the house water was off.  The family has 2 large plastic barrels that are full of water in cases like these, since the water being turned off is a common occurrence.  So really, there was water, but after day 2 both the barrels were near empty, which meant I didn’t bathe and couldn’t do laundry.  It almost got to the point where we needed to go to the river to bathe.  I thought that was kinda cool, but the water came back the next day and everything was back to normal.  I’m totally spoiled here, is that obvious?  There are people in this community who live away off the highway that have no electricity to their house and use the river every single day to bathe and do laundry and dishes.  And here I am living in a house on the highway that gets to have an electrical outlet in my room to recharge everything, can heat my bathwater if I want to, and now has a fridge to put my powdered-juice-filled Nalgene on those hot Nicaraguan days.  Did I mention that not every PC volunteer has it rough?  

Sept. 8, 2011

Today the house received a puppy.  I’m super excited to have another adorable animal to coddle, but bummed out that there’s another flea-ridden creature in the house as well.  She’s only a month old, and was super dirty this morning, so I gave her a bath with the only shampoo they have in the house, which is an antiseptic shampoo, not meant to kill fleas.  So I went into town to buy some flea shampoo and two combs to try and clean up the puppy and the kitten.  I haven’t named either one of them in hopes that they will live longer that way.  

Alright, well, sorry about the long entry this time.  Not having internet makes it difficult to post more often, and I find it much easier to pre-type everything so I don’t have to try and rush through the last months’ worth of information in the internet cafĂ©.  I did buy a modem for my computer, and I do get a slight signal in Wale, but for some reason the modem’s not working and I can’t connect.  I went back to the store to get some answers and they basically gave me none.  So I’ll keep working on that :)

Spanish lesson for this blog:  let me explain the phrases from the last one (since Tina recommends I translate the Jesus phrases for those who need it).  Sangre de Cristo or Sangre de Jesus means Blood of Christ or Jesus, usually stated as an exclamation after something serious happens or was just discussed.   Si Dios quiere means If God wants, or If God wills, usually stated to refer to someone making a meeting or being somewhere at some point in the future.  Basically they have little choice in what they do; God does most of the choosing.  Jesus Maria should be an obvious one, but I’ll say it anyways, Jesus Mary.  I feel like it’s when we say “Jesus Mary and Joseph!” as an exclamation.  And I’m sure there’s plenty more phrases that use Jesus and other religious connotations, but these are what I hear most often.  

For those of you who have been mailing me stuff (Tina, Jodi, Liz), THANK YOU!!!  I’ve been receiving them and I love everything.  Nannette, I haven’t received yours yet but I’m sure it’s on its way.  Auntie Kathy, your package that was sent to Managua still hasn’t reached my hands yet.  I’m hoping the next time I get a visit by one of the PC staff (which is Oct. 19th) it will delivered.  I’m sure it made it just fine, it was just bad timing when I was moving.  If anyone wants package ideas, I’ve been drinking a lot various Tang flavored juices since they’re easy to just mix with water, and that’s what they sell here.  I miss having juice to drink, and that’s the closest to it, so if you find any powdered juice drink mixes you can sent them my way!  They’re a nice break from coffee.  The house now has an official refrigerator (I feel so special!).  Esmeralda bought a new one since her old one died to hold sodas and frescos to sell in her pulperia (store), so I have a drawer to hold cold stuff.  And, as always cards and letters are greatly appreciated.  

Okay folks, that’s it for now.  Even with all this info I’m totally forgetting to write down so many other interesting things.  It’s hard to keep track of all the stuff that happens here.  

Until the next chapter. . .

~Sarita~