Tuesday, August 7, 2012

7/23: The Bounty of the Earth

For my friends and family, it is no secret that I am a foodie. I just love food, so wherever I go, I look forward to finding something I like in that cuisine. And here, where resources may be limited, as long as there's rice and beans, I'm good! But after sleeping ten hours and waking up with still-wet hair (there is humidity to rival Minnesota's), we were all amazed by the array of fruits in addition to the arroz y frijoles (rice and beans) and tortillas served family-style at Centro Kairos. Bananos (tiny, sweet bananas), papaya, piña (pineapple), jugo de mango (mango juice), oh, and scrambled huevos too. We all poked fun at Joy, who could not enjoy this breakfast to the fullest extent because she does not like fruit (who doesn't like fruit?)!

Scooping pineapple with a curved wooden spoon that looks like it would be a section peeled off the side of a coconut.

And no foreign adventure is complete without language miscommunications, but my dad's frankness was priceless as we regrouped later: "Well, I may have just proposed marriage to the chef, Julia, because I complimented her cooking and tried to say my wife is also Julia..." All you can do is smile and shake your head!

One of the leaders of the Centro gave us a little spiel about the organization over breakfast as well, and its mission is to provide resources and connect different segments of the communities they work in so those communities can achieve their dreams. That way the community invests in its own projects and can continue to build sustainably on those connections forged. For more about the organization and its work: http://escuelaakf.org/Home.html





With the daylight, Don and the youth did some more exploring of the grounds, and I with my camera got called for a photo opp - a tree that would be basically the best in the world to climb because on one of its limbs it could definitely take all twelve of us, no problem. We envisioned a group photo on that horizontal limb, but it was only a vision, as we would have had to first run down the hill through the forest and figure out how to climb the trunk that was surely four times our height before the first branch. Incredible.




 Next up: pull-up contests on the laundry lines! And by laundry lines, I mean huge metal rods in this case. We all busted out a few, Don had to work extra hard to get his knees off the ground due to that whole height factor, and Joy pulled off a "skin-the-cat."
























While the morning was still young, we all packed up to take a brief spin through Managua, try one of the typical foods for lunch, and meet our host families in León in the afternoon! Here are a couple lessons and observations from the bus ride:

- President Daniel Ortega (remember him from the history lesson last post?) altered the constitution so he could be elected another term. The conservative newspaper La Prensa (which played a pivotal role in denouncing the dictatorship eventually but still is not pro-Sandinista...) whenever it mentions Ortega writes, "... the unconstitutional president Daniel Ortega..." For the most part apparently people are satisfied as healthcare (including contraceptives, which is pretty unusual, but abortion is clearly illegal) and education are free, but the third original Sandinista pillar of land reform is off-limits these days because nobody wants to make possible foreign investors nervous.

- A young man was pushing his papá in a wheelchair along the highway. Other forms of transport may be too expensive or not accessible to him.

- There is a statue of the guy who assassinated dictator Somoza in the middle of the town square, and there also are just lots of huge, bronze statues and other artistic sculptures in roundabouts and other tracts of land in the middle of city streets.

- I really wish I had been able to get a picture of this, but a man in a wheelchair was pushing himself in a lane on the road. Streets are not exactly pedestrian-friendly, but it is definitely interesting to see cars and huge buses sharing the road with rickshaws, horses and carts, and apparently wheelchairs.

- It is interesting to see the extent to which idealized whiteness permeates a mostly darker-skinned society. There is variation in skin tone to be sure from combinations of European, indigenous, and African heritage, but many billboards still do not have real-looking Nica people. While that could maybe be expected with ads for glamorous international haircare products and the like, even a painted advertisement for renting apartments featured a white, blond woman...

- One thing you would rarely see on a U.S. billboard is active government support and advocacy for reproductive health as a right, especially for women. I appreciate that here.



- There are colorful jungle gyms in random spaces between roads! That is really cool to see those constructive spaces, and I wonder who pays for that and how we can better use our urban space in the U.S. to make sure there are more safe places for kids to play even in poorer neighborhoods.








A few playgrounds later, after passing a group of Asian tourists milling about and learning we were forbidden to enter in an inebriated or drugged state, we had arrived at the Parque Histórico Nacional Loma de Tiscapa. This National Historical Park encompassed a monument to Sandino, a museum of Sandinista history, as well as vistas of the entire city.



We got out of the bus and immediately got whipped by the wind, and from the "Shadow of Sandino" we could see the lagos and montañas that stretched out to the horizon. Without wind, it would have been hot! The Sandinistas were pretty bold putting a giant shadow of Sandino on the grounds of the palace ruins, but that is what they had to do to reclaim that space from the dictatorship and mark Sandino's influence stretching over the Nicaraguan people.






 

After recovering all of our group members from the free wandering time with the monument and the views (The youths all stuck together, but we managed to lose a couple adults for a few moments! Funny that the adults can wander off, but we are supposed to be the chaperones...), we wound down a staircase to the Sandino museum that exhibited much of his philosophy and nationalist pride as well as history in more vivid detail about the heinous crimes perpetuated by the Somoza dictatorship against the Nicaraguan people.



A couple quotes that stuck out to me:
- "Mi mayor honra es surgir del seno de los oprimidos, que son el alma y nervio de la raza": My greatest honor is to arise from the breast of the oppressed, who are the soul and sinew of the race.
- "Es preferible hacerme morir como rebelde y no vivir como esclavo": It is preferable to die like a rebel and not live like a slave.


"We will go toward the sun of liberty or toward death; and if we die, our cause will keep living. Others will follow us."

We would see some of these quotes included in murals around the city and in León as well, and here  Sandino further gave thanks for the sacrifices and love from his country, especially the sacrifices of women and their dedication. He also called out the U.S. as his sole mission was to get the U.S. marines to end the occupation and leave Nicaragua, saying the Yanquis just needed puppets as presidents and leaders in their Indian/Hispanic pueblos...

Further curving around, the pink signs detailed more of the history we had heard the previous day, remembering the torture committed in Somoza's massacres, the valor of his assassin, and a lot of the unthinkable methods of torture written simply and powerfully. (If you want to know more of what specific torture methods Somoza's men employed, either ask me and I can consult my notes, or see for yourself in the museum, I will leave out the gruesome from this blog.) One survivor is quoted as saying of his torturers, "A estos seres no se les puede llamar humans": We cannot call these beings human beings.

On a lighter note, as we were still in pensive mode and looking back through my notes from yesterday's history to make sure we got the warped timelines straightened in our minds, us women at least then experienced our first no-flush, no-toilet paper, no-soap bathroom! Remembering my time in China, I had brought a travel pack of Kleenex and a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer for these very situations, and by observing a worker who went before us, to flush the toilet you simply take the plastic cup that is floating in a giant barrel of water near the sink, fill it, and pour it straight down in the bowl and it flushes! Who knew?

Moving along, after the 1972 earthquake, only a few buildings were still standing in Managua, and next we got to see two of them: the National Palace, which had gotten rebuilt after the earthquake, and the Cathedral. Below is one of those statues in the centro, this one the "Unknown Soldier," with a gun in one hand and a farming implement in the other, and a more current addition: the Sandinista flag raised high as well.


 As we walked into this park, a tiny little boy ran up and wanted to give each of us hugs! It was surprising but so adorable. Two older men looked on warily from a little ways off, but the boy then ran off with his two brothers. We were further approached by a couple other young boys begging for money and a weathered anciano selling water and pleading "... para que pueda comer..." - so that I can eat... Poverty is inescapable, and it is always tricky to figure out how best to not perpetuate the rich foreigner stereotype and dependence while still treating every person with dignity and respect.


The pathway that brought us through this sculpted forest suddenly emptied into this huge expanse of very well-kept landmarks: a couple of beautiful white fountains that were in the middle of repairs, or they would have been certainly cool and refreshing, and then the national palace and cathedral. Our group did not get to go inside either building, but we did discover Don did go inside the palace for a few. We figured this out as we were trying to take a group photo and were missing an adult! When we all gathered then, Meredith rightly gave us a little tough love about sticking together and we all chuckled that again, it was an adult that wandered off...






















 From the bus we waved goodbye to our little hugging friend and set out for León by way of Nagarote, home of the quesillo! We talked a little about religion and politics and learned they are separate but there are intersections, much like U.S. politics. But here, there are not different sides of the political spectrum associated with different Christian denominations, and also there is no real opposition to the Sandinistas at this point, so who would different denominations vote for? A few of us asked different questions about Nicaraguan culture of Francisco, our delegation assistant, and basically expected him to be our gateway into understanding Nicaraguan culture. Of course he still has his own viewpoints, but to have him as a resource was wonderful. Also, he wanted to practice his English with us, and I practiced some Spanish with him as we chatted in the back of the bus and he pointed out different things along the way:

This is a monument to Pope John Paul II for his travels here in 1983 in the middle of the Contra War, and his visit was apparently quite controversial at the time as both sides had different expectations and of course wanted the Pope to condemn the actions of the other side.

Lake Managua is one of the largest freshwater bodies in the Americas, and it is the only one with sharks! Sharks? Apparently these species adapted to both freshwater and seawater and can just hang out in the lake.

After upping the ante for how much history our brains can process and driving through so much lush nature, our arrival in Nagarote let us taste more of traditional food Nicaragua has to offer. Everybody had to try a quesillo, and among all of us we each needed to have a sip of pinolillo, the national drink made of corn and cacao. The quesillo is something else, it really is. Meredith explained how much Nicaraguans love their plastic bags, so when you take a drink to go, you always get it in a plastic bag with a straw, you buy foods from a market or street food vendor in plastic bags, and the quesillo is a cheese-onion-sauce-in-tortilla concoction that you are supposed to eat through a plastic bag by biting a teeny end off and eating it through that hole.

Meet our quesillo experience:

My dad, the farmer, excited about cows.

Francisco showed us how it's done!

 Various reactions...


And Jennifer and Paul sampled one of the two national beers: this one's a Toña, which would soon become favored by our crew, especially by Paul!

Kira was the first to test out the pinolillo and basically gagged at the texture, but basically every person after her rather enjoyed the sweetness of the corn mixed with the cacao flavor, she perhaps just got a mouthful of the dirt-like residue at the bottom...

So we basically just got to hang out in this gorgeous pavilion with national dishes, Latin pop and reggaeton which I perhaps enjoyed more than the rest, and silly cow signs for a while, and then we took off for the second leg of the drive to León. I definitely needed a nap on this one! Entering the city, perhaps because our concept of a "city" is towering skyscrapers, or at least one tall building, it was surprising to see that no building in the second-largest city of Nicaragua is more than one story. Most of the buildings on a street share a common wall, yet they are painted different bright colors which livens the drive, especially as we ran into a bit of traffic due to it being the anniversary of five university students' deaths about fifty years ago. The other thing that rerouted us was a bike race through the streets of León that actually went right past our destination, the PML office, and thus José had to park a few blocks away. Below is the street view from the office and then a biker whizzing by!



The gorgeous mural in the office that weaves together many of Nicaragua's traditions and myths.

We awaited our orientation instructions and the lowdown from Meredith and Francisco.

Before meeting our families, we had to get oriented just as they had to before receiving their delegates. Here is a sense of our rules:
- Don't walk alone in your neighborhood. In the centro it is much easier to figure out where you are, but not in Carlos Nuñez. You will always be accompanied by a family member when you go out, just for safety in general.
- Leave valuables in the office safe. People are curious in general, and many people, related or not, will stop by your house so just be aware.
- Be careful of street food, you don't know where it came from...
- Youth don't drink, adults don't be stupid. Awareness is even more necessary in new places
- Going out at night is not recommended, especially because people get up early and sleep early, better following the rhythm of the sun than we do. 

And then some things to be aware of with family stays (these are good things to think about for anyone who is traveling!):
- You will probably get hugs and kisses when you meet your families because they are excited to meet you! Latin America in general is more touchy-feely, personal space is smaller, but exercise judgement of course.
- Three requirements for houses, which Meredith would come check on later in the night: 1) at least a curtain to separate your bed and changing space (notice you do not necessarily get a room in the traditional sense), 2) a fan (no overheating Minnesotans, please!), and 3) an enclosed bathroom. 
- The mark of a good host/hostess by Nicaraguan standards is probably not our live-and-let-live, but rather they will want to pick up after you and maybe rearrange your things.
- Especially with a language barrier be conscious of body language.
- Maintain communication with your family, don't just disappear to your room, always say goodnight when you go to bed and goodbye when you leave. Spend time with them and have them teach you some of the chores so you can be helpful too, such as washing your own clothes!
- Gestures and sounds are different: Meredith wants us to look out for people pointing not with their fingers but by puckering their lips and motioning with their chin. There's also a little "tststs" sound to get someone's attention, and on that topic, there will be a variety of ways males will try to get female's attention, some of which may be rather disrespectful and that you would want to avoid acknowledging. Getting kissed at may be one of those, but you may also get called "chelita," as "chele" is the Nicaraguan equivalent of "gringo," as chele means milk and refers to the lightness of our skin. 
- Don't touch animals. Just don't do it. As adorable as the kittens and puppies are, they are not pets. Cats are mousers and cockroachers, and dogs are guard dogs. Houses are open to the air and therefore things come in like geckos, mice, etc.
- The pace is slower here than in the U.S. It is more laidback, probably due to the heat, but being on time is not really a thing here. Nica time is much more fluid, so we have to adjust to that environment but we are not allowed to assimilate to it. That means when we have delegation activities scheduled, we have to operate on that schedule!

Bottom line: just don't be stupid. To spin that positively, use good judgment. Then everything will be fine and you will learn and experience so much!

The next order of business was an actual business transaction: Meredith was able to bring in a money changer to the office so we would not have to do it out on the street. We all got a bunch of córdobas to last for a few days, but our program paid for so much that we did not have to do much. The numeric amount did just seem like a lot though because there are about 24 córdobas to one U.S. dollar. But we got to spend a couple right away at a cyber, an internet cafe on the streetcorner that just had about ten computers at desks separated by small partitions. It was nice to hop on for a few minutes and update people that we are alive and well! 

And then it was family time! We hopped into our bus with all of our luggage and drove out from the city center to meet our families at Gotitas de Esperanza (which I will probably just refer to as Gotitas), the daycare/preschool center for the community of Carlos Nuñez that PML helped build and support. I'll quote one of Kira's apprehensions from along the way: "I just hope there's a bathroom, I don't really want to head off to the jungle with a machete..." We would all have some adjusting to do and some flexibility to keep in mind to be sure, but yes, having to hack through a forest would be an interesting complication to relieving oneself. We turned onto a dirt road filled with kids, chickens, and skinny dogs, and parked right in front of Gotitas. Meredith ran in to make sure everything was all set, and meanwhile, three little boys came out to wave and stare at our microbus. Everybody was talking about how adorable they were and wanting them to be their little brothers, but I basically said "Dibs," and others said, "Right, you're probably right... but not fair!" because we knew my family had three little boys!


Our group got the okay and spilled out of the bus to enter Gotitas and wait patiently as Meredith would say one of our names and introduce us to their family members seated in the semi-circle staring at us expectantly. A flurry of smiles, hugs, and nervous Spanish commenced as each family was united with its delegate! My dad and I were the last ones to get our families, and it felt like Meredith was giving us away. Dad's host mom is a lovely 40-something woman named Patricia with a seven-year-old boy and then a 21-year-old who works in El Salvador. And remember those two adorable boys in green shirts by the gate? They were really my family! I met my host mom, Jenifer, and we did the whole cheek-kiss greeting, and she told me the names of the boys that I definitely could not pronounce (they were not typical names for either English or Spanish!). She seemed slightly reserved and perhaps preoccupied with the kids at first, but she perked up more when Paul and I got to take our luggage and hop in the back of a truck for Meredith to drive us to our homes. She had talked to us earlier in the day and just warned us most of the host families were close to each other and close to Gotitas, but our homestays were further outside the community, which she only placed us in because she thought we would be able to handle it, our host moms were cousins, and she adored the families. So we got our first Nica-style ride in the truck bed on dirt roads to our houses!

Here's Paul and I, my host mom Jenifer is to my left with the two-year-old, and Paul's host mom Jessica is across from us with Jenifer's four-year-old. Off we went!

In the truck I learned my host mom runs a farmacía out of the front of her house so people drop by all of the time, and she provides that service so people in her community do not have to go to the centro all the time. She said I will probably meet a few more of her relatives who drop by often as well, and when we arrived at our house, the little boys did not want to leave the truck! Riding in a motorized vehicle is actually a special treat for them, even while their dad drives a bus as a living. The oldest, Didier, wanted to guardar (watch over and keep safe) Paul's bags while he, Meredith, Francisco and I checked out my teeny three-roomed house. I get a room to myself, and I figured out later that at least while I am here, the little boys share a contraption in their parents' room that is kind of a mix of a kid-sized bed and a crib. And we have a letrina (latrine) and a bucket shower! I will have to take more pictures of my homestay in the daylight because when we got home, we pretty much just made dinner, chatted, and went to bed. But here is what my room for the next two weeks looked like:

With our host families we all just tried to take everything in stride and truly live like Nicaraguans live. The rooms may not be truly separated, outside and inside may just kind of flow together, the sink, shower, and toilet may be outside, and you may be perpetually dirty and sweaty, but you make do just as our new families do every day!

Jenifer was running around everywhere, giving galletas (cookies/crackers) to her kids, picking up her bebe (the seven-month-old) and the playpen from her friend who watches him across the street. My host mom does this every single day - she is so strong! And it is really nice to have her friend as that resource for her. On top of all that, she made a wonderful dinner and said "¡Tranquila!" (Just relax!) when I asked if I could help. Meanwhile, the rambunctious munchkins had discovered my pack of gum and ate about half of it before dinner (and the other half after...) and wanted to play with my camera but I distracted them with the coloring books and crayons I brought as part of my gift to my family in addition to a small gift for my host parents. Jenifer had made rice, eggs and ham, and fried plantains with a little piece of typical Nicaraguan cheese, a white cheese that has a bit stronger of flavor than we are used to but is good in combination with the other things.

Over dinner I started to get used to her accent (no Spanish-speaking country you visit will ever speak just like how you are taught in school, so that is why I am even more grateful for this immersion experience!) and learned more about her and her family. Her esposo Douglas has a very irregular schedule as a bus driver, so he often has to work around 6am but still does not get home until late, so they usually can never eat dinner together and she waits up for him even nights she has to put the kids to bed before he gets back. The thing that astounded me the most is that my host mom is actually my age! Jenifer is 22 as well but with three young children as she fell in love in high school and got married at age 18. She sounded remorseful that she cannot really see friends anymore, and she is also struggling with the fact that she had to stop partway through her last year of college with the last baby, but she is determined to do her last school year (which starts in February) and all she needs is that university degree to become a lawyer. Even though we are the same age, we are at such different life stages, and I cannot imagine having children while pursuing an education! She is also taking computer classes every week now too so she can develop that skill, saying computers used to scare her but not anymore!

After dinner she asked if I had any photos of my family, which was great she asked because I forgot to bring them out with the host gifts! We were continuously interrupted by neighbors and the kids, but we rolled with it. And the four-year-old thinks I'm his novia (his girlfriend) and makes kissy faces at me, so he is not even so innocent as perhaps a four-year-old should be... Jenifer says that they can be both angelitos (little angels) and diablitos (little devils), but she loves them! I cannot understand 90 percent of what they say, but oh well. I got her to teach me how she washes the dishes, and then I even convinced her to let me do all of them since she cooked and then could get the kids ready for bed. My host dad came home then, and he is one of those more strong, silent types, so I talked with him for a few minutes and then figured out the whole bucket shower situation so I could let them have some time with each other too. Being a night-showerer is going to be entertaining here because there is really no light in the yard, and plus it cools off at night so dumping cold water from a pail over my head in the dark may have taken me a little longer than usual. But I managed to clean myself successfully (fingers crossed) and headed to bed about 10:30.

Also what is amazing is that she is an only child just like me, but her dad is not in the picture and her momma works in Costa Rica, and she calls Jenifer every weekend and comes back for the month of Diciembre. She is my age, but she had to grow up so fast. I am amazed she wanted to care for another human being in her home, but she definitely treats me as such a respected guest but makes me feel so at home with her, and I surely learned so much from her in these two weeks.

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