7/29: Family Day

Mmm 6am. My favorite. Well maybe not, but I at least try to keep convincing myself of that as 6am is when things get cracking around here. And unfortunately today, while Jenifer and I had hoped her husband Douglas would be able to have a day off to go to the beach with us for Family Day, we had no such luck. On this Sunday, we woke up to him leaving for work at 6am because he got extra hours using his bus to transport materials for elections to be held later in the fall. But while he got the 6am to 5pm shift, I had the suerte, luck, to be able to fall back asleep again until 8:15am. Guess I needed it after all of Jenifer's and my late night conversations! 

Jenifer seemed disappointed that we would no longer be able to go to the beach (she would probably now have to wait a couple years more until the kids are older), but we took the much-needed time to just hang out at home, do some chores, and play with the kids. I ran around with them, throwing the prodigal squishy baseball that had gotten lost in the darkness last night, all in our pajamas still. They got distracted frequently, but were still excitable and quite willing to get all dusty in the backyard with me.

As she swept and washed the floor inside, she had moved the baby's playpen just outside the door, and the older two decided to climb in with their baby brother just for fun. And I got them to stop play-fighting for two seconds to snap the most adorable photo of the three kids, miraculously all looking at me!

My host brothers, from left to right: Diegmar, Diederich, and Diddier.

And Jenifer took a break from her bustling to pop into a photo with her boys too.

She went about her business then, making my breakfast and bathing the boys as she does every morning. They insisted on playing catch more even after they bathed, so another round of dusting was required for them to be presentable enough to wander off to their church school classes down the street. Jenifer trusts them to make it that far, and she says they really enjoy going, so they definitely make it there! She got to take a load off then, telling me how she has had bouts of severe stress and anxiety, sometimes with migraines lasting for a couple months - ¡ay, parenting! "Los hijos, me traen alegría, pero también los problemas... Mucha presión a veces..." The kids bring me joy but also problems, a lot of pressure at times, she said.

No doubt they are a handful that she largely has to deal with by herself, but to see her gently rocking her youngest while singing all the folk songs she knows is just precious.

We had until noon to talk and have some peace around the house, and somehow Jenifer got to talking wistfully about all the things that are harder or impossible to do now that she has kids. And while she does not regret how her life has turned one bit, she wants more of the freedom and joy and opportunity that a twenty-two year old perhaps should have. She says that le cuesta mucho, it is hard for her, to go to Bible classes on Saturdays led by a family friend like she used to, that she could no longer go to the saint festivals in Managua like she used to every year, and that it is too sofocante, suffocating, to bring her kids into the crowd around Leon's celebrations for semana santa, Holy Week. Don't get me wrong, she loves her kids and she loves her husband, but being her same age, she is still somehow completely my host mom. Our lives have been quite different, and she has been forced to grow up faster in a way I have not yet. But as stressed as she is sometimes, for her to make so many sacrifices for her family and still be following through on her dreams to become a civil rights lawyer that would not only help her family financially but help so many others, she truly is so strong.

And street-smart, let's not forget. Though we could talk about broader issues of family, politics, culture, and social justice, the taken-for-granted life skills were also something I wanted to learn from her. PML encouraged all of us before the delegation to offer to do and/or help with our laundry to be gracious guests, but it was even more of an adventure than figuring out which settings to use and buttons to push in someone else's home because here, we would ask our host mamas to teach us how to do it by hand. And Jenifer thus far had been sneaking my laundry from the hamper and washing it when I was off at delegation activities, but today, I had a few pieces and I asked her to teach me.

Here are the steps, as best as I can describe them:
1) Put water and powdered detergent in a big bucket. Then stick your clothes in and swish.
2) Take out one piece at a time to wash. We started small. With socks. Take your piece of clothing to the lavadora, the sink.
3) Alternate adding a soft, bright blue soap to the item and scrubbing with water, paying special attention to places like armpits in t-shirts, etc.
4) Scrub against the ridges of the wash basin to get all of the soap into the clothing and then all of the rinse water out.
5) Find a place on the strung up cables or barbed wire to hang it up.

My clean laundry up to dry! No wonder these women all have strong arms...

Next home project: making lunch. Without the munchkins running around and getting in the way, I got a little bit better of an idea of how Jenifer prepared food. Today, to flavor some rice, she put a few tiny peppers into the arrocinero, a rice cooker similar to one I shared with my housemates at Carleton last year. While the rice was taking on the sweet pepper flavor, she had some pollo frito, fried chicken, crackling on the stove and was chopping vegetables for an ensalada with tomatoes and cucumbers.

Princesa waited patiently for her lunch too.

While Jenifer was cooking, the boys actually came home a little earlier because, the two year-old had wet himself and come home crying. And his big brother was so sweet saying it was not his fault because he had told his teacher he needed to go but he did not know how to undo his belt. So some tears and a change of clothes, but soon enough they were back to running around crazily and begging for food every two seconds while Jenifer was still cooking. I tried to get them to play catch and other games to distract them from bothering her, but those boys have some serious energy! Thankfully I think we all tired each other out enough to sit down and have a nice meal, with the pollo frito turning out basically like chicken nuggets, but from scratch!

Ay we were so full, but a man selling ice cream pedaled by as we were finishing our meal and the boys had been begging for it. Apparently a few guys are regulars that pedal through the neighborhood, but they all come from the same distribution point so if one comes with one kind, there is a pretty good chance others will come by with the one you want. After we finished eating another ice cream man came by that Jenifer knew and wanted to give her business to, so the kids ran off from the table screaming "Eskimo!", the brand name and she bought drumsticks for the boys and me. She instead waited for another man who would sell orange creamsicles, but another man passed by selling homemade sorbetes in orange and melon flavors, which is pretty cool.

We had a very relaxed afternoon, chatting intermittently as Jenifer cut her toenails so she could wear chanclas, sandals, to church in the afternoon, and as the boys ran around playing. I took a few more pictures around the house too, so here you go!
 

 Touching these two wires together is how we turn on the electricity when we get home at night. Jenifer has to climb up on a step stool to reach them, as they rest near the top of the door frame, but while I am here, this is definitely something I can help her with because I can reach from my tiptoes.

It took me until today to actually read this inspirational picture she has hanging in her kitchen. To translate: "Today I learned that...  The greatest knowledge is God, The most beautiful day is Today, The largest obstacle is Fear, The best teachers are Children, The greatest error is to Take yourself for defeated, The largest fault is Egoism, The greatest distraction is Work, The greatest bankruptcy is Discouragement, The most vile feeling is Envy, The most beautiful gift is Pardon, The most marvelous thing in the world is Love, and the greatest happiness is Peace."

 Diederich loves his trike! Jenifer said like much clothing and many better quality things, she bought it in Managua because it is cheaper there than in León.

Diddier, Princesa, and the squishy Minnesota Twins baseball my papa had brought from home for me to give to my family.

¡Modelo! He's definitely a charmer already...

These are more of the normal expressions, mischievousness from the older one, and annoyance from the middle one.

We played a nicer version of monkey-in-the-middle, where instead of the person in the middle getting frustrated as the ball would keep going around or over them, Diederich, the middle boy, just liked to stand right in front of me and balance against me so I could help him catch it. I was probably assumed to be their nanny, and I got kissed at by a couple guys my age walking or riding by our yard. Nothing to see here, guys, just bonding with my host brothers.

All dressed and ready to go to church with Jenifer's friend Keyli. 

At diez para las tres, a different way of saying 2:50 than what I had been taught in school (tres menos diez or dos y cincuenta...), Jenifer warned her boys to "portase bien," the slang version of "behave yourself," otherwise she would leave them with Princesa, so they bucked up and we walked to catch the bus. This is the view of the street from our front gate: 

¡Dale! Let's go! The ruta, route, is just a couple minute's walk from our house, but on weekends the autobus comes every twenty minutes while it comes every seven on weekdays. Here is the house right next to the bus stop: 

 Well, the church service in theory starts at 3, but we did not leave for the bus until 3... So when it did not come for a few minutes, Jenifer made the executive decision that we should walk. It was about a twenty minute walk along the side of the paths composed of dirt and rock, so one had to pay attention to where they placed their footsteps, especially in nicer church shoes. But dusty feet were understood and forgiven by all.

Even though we arrived at about 3:20, that was also forgiven because the service was just about starting as well. The church itself (you'll see a picture later) was a pretty bare structure in the middle of nowhere (Jenifer said they just do not have enough funds to finish the building), and we walked to the nearby shed to grab plastic chairs. During the service Keyli was actually a ways off on her cell phone because she had gotten a call from her boyfriend and had her priorities, and Jenifer had to get up frequently to deal with her boys' restlessness.

But even though the church building was basically just a roof on stilts, they had a solid electronic system working so we could all sing along with two vocalists and an electronic keyboard, and the words of Catholic priest were so slow, loud, and clear through the microphone that I could understand everything he was saying. And I definitely nerded out, learning so much church vocabulary that I had heard in English and could now understand in Spanish, and I was thankful for the perhaps four times I had been to Catholic services back in the States so I could follow along decently well.

The sermon for today was on the multiplicación de los panes como el alimento para el mar de gente, the multiplication of bread to feed the sea of people. It was a wonderful coincidence, actually, because Pastor Don would be preaching on this very topic the Sunday our delegation returned to St. Luke, and we would as a group talk a little bit about our reflections on how this Nicaragua experience nourished and fed us. And I actually learned so much about some of the Catholic sacraments, as for each one, the priest would remind his people why they performed these rituals: "La eucaristía es el bajamiento del cielo a la tierra... La misa es la lectura de toda la biblia junto así que es el cielo en la tierra... y La misa te protege de la persecución del diablo..." The eucharist is the coming down of heaven to earth, mass is the teaching of all of the Bible and therefore is heaven on earth, and mass protects you from the persecution of the devil, he taught. Furthermore, he emphasized the need for taking what you learn and how you feel en la misa, in mass, and using it every day of your life. "Los peligros te pueden asesinar en el camino," dangers could assassinate you on your walk, but you must then remember the truths of God and act through those truths, he said.

Beyond learning more of the teaching of the Catholic church and trying to refrain from the happy dance that I could understand basically everything, an added bonus was that there would be a bautismo, a baptism! Apparently here it is customary to make the baby, mom, and madrina (godmother) sit right up in the front of the church through the whole service, and before the actual baptism, the priest detailed the responsibilities of those caring for this child. It would be the godmother's responsibility to educate baby Joseph with the teachings of El Señor and give him un imágen (an image) with text to hang on his wall in remembrance of his faith. That part was foreign to me, but I do personally like having my favorite verses around different places in my life, such as on post-its on my computer, but as far as I know, I did not get a godmother to help me with this. But the next set of questions were very similar as a St. Luke's baptismal charge to the congregation, asking the community gathered to teach, love, and protect this child of God in his walk in life and faith. 

In asking these questions, the priest used aceite, oil, instead of water, to baptize the child with a cross on his back and one on his front "en el nombre del padre, y del hijo, y del espiritu santo," in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And in the Catholic church, as the priest reminded us, "El bautismo es la puerta para recibir lo demás sacramentos," baptism is the door to receive the rest of the sacraments. What I thought was really cool was that even though baby Joseph was the only one in el traje de blanco (white outfit) declaring his new life, the priest added all those baptized are pastors, prophets, and saints. We may have been taught or be tempted to believe pastors and priests are the only ones with access and communication to God, but past baptism, it is up to us to continue learning and be God's hands and feet while we are here. That's my take anyways, take it or leave it as you like.

A fuerte aplauso, a rousing applause, filled this space and then we moved onto song. All of the songs and sayings were by memory as there were no bulletins, books, or hymnals. Jenifer is not able to go to church every week, but she still knows exactly what to say when (I have not gotten there yet, but I also have not been raised Catholic) and knows how to sing along with most of the songs, while I could chime in on some simple refrains at best. Rites are especially useful for poorer communities, especially if there is no time between work and sleep to study the Bible, as Jenifer has told me, or if you are illiterate, or as there is simply no money for programs when your church building does not yet have walls.

The church people greeted one another as we were bid adios with the priest's words, "Bueno, nuestra celebración ha terminado. Vayanse con la paz de Dios," "Well, our celebration has ended. Go with the peace of God." While Catholic churches may be hold the stereotype of being dull, it really was amazing to see how the priest enjoyed teaching the congregation and extending God's peace and love to everyone, and I rather enjoy that he called it a celebration!

I returned our plastic chairs to the shed as Jenifer rounded up her naughty boys, scolding them about how they had learned nothing from church about good behavior, trying to impart on them the importance of walking with God every day. I also took a quick photo of Iglesia El Carmen as the crowds cleared:

Beginning our walk back home. So many tired little legs, Jenifer and I got an even better workout than simply walking home because we traded off carrying the baby and the two and a half year-old. 

The kids were cranky and acting up after we got home, so they got guilt-tripped about acting poorly after la misa. Jeni sighed and said she's tired of this, especially their little antics just to annoy her. I do not know what to do as a temporary presence in the house, other than to be there for her and learn even more parenting than I ever thought I would in two weeks! I stole the boys to play "monitos," a roughhousing game we made up so they could get over the temptation to just bug me in my little room and jump on my bed. While Jenifer made dinner, we would just drain all of the boys' energy out as I gave them piggy-back rides, wrestled, spun them around, and pretend I was wiped and napping until they would jump on me again. Fun stuff! It was actually pretty hilarious, and thankfully useful for their mom.

I had to look semi-presentable though because Jenifer's cousin Enoc came over for dinner. Jenifer begged for a photo of the two of them, but he hates photos and refused to smile. Despite being weighed down at times by her rugrats, she is still totally a twenty-two year old that gets into sassy spats with Enoc and does a little skip and a jump asking for pictures. This was the best we got for the time being.

Then I perhaps had one of my biggest Spanish gaffes... He asked, "¿Te gusta coco?" Do you like coconut? I replied with a "Sí..." A little while later, I attempted to ask him if he liked coconut too, but I accidentally said "la coca" instead. Oh masculine/feminine articles and nouns... I effectively asked him if he likes cocaine! Whoops. Still laughing, he said he would be right back. A few minutes later, Enoc slides through the gate with an actual coconut with the husk still on and everything! I love Nicaragua. Fresh fruits everywhere.

Jenifer had a huge knife for him, so he took to whacking it for a couple minutes and getting all the way through to the meat, he asked for a glass and gave me all of the coconut water, how sweet. 

And here is everybody getting ready for their pieces of the coconut meat.

Now, why does he not like to smile for photographs? 

Diederich in coconut bliss. 

Dinner was ready after our coco adventure, and over gallo pinto, queso, tortillas, and tomates, Enoc really tried to convince me to let him give me a coconut to take back to the U.S. Unfortunately a) I would not have enough room... and b) One cannot simply bring a raw coconut through U.S. customs. But thanks for the offer!

It was nice to have Enoc around, even though he is a jokester and would tease Jenifer. She was happy to have a good male role model around for her sons because Douglas was hardly home and she wants him to share more of the responsibilities with the family. Diddier has been getting into more trouble the last couple months since he has started hanging out with a pair of twins who are a little older and "terribles." Jenifer hopes to switch her boys to a different school next year so they could focus more, but it would cost more as well.

While she has said a couple of times that she feels five years older than she actually is due to stress and responsibilities, she lights up talking about hair like a normal twenty-two year-old young woman. We share the woes of frizz with our curly hair, and while I'm here I have encouraged her to try my conditioner that apparently does not exist here. She adds that she really likes Kira's hair as it is dyed blue and green and that she has always tenía ganas de pintarlo, always wanted to dye it those colors! I asked her about what Nicas think about people dyeing their hair, as crazy colors can come across as rebellious in the U.S., and she says people really do not care here. We joked that when Jenifer comes to visit me someday, I'll take her to a salon to have it done.

As highlights from the London Olympics came on, this further provoked her curiosity about the world. She has asked a number of great questions about the U.S. and our culture that is so influential here, and she already has a good sense of this hemisphere, but it seems she has not learned much about the rest of the world. As much as you can turn on a morning news program in the U.S. and be appalled by the number of people stopped and interviewed on the street that do not know where X country is or Y capitol, we are not alone in this. Education access and geographic awareness about our world are universal issues, highlighted in this instance for me when Jenifer asked if Londres está en los Estados Unidos, if London is in the U.S. Jenifer is smart, she really is, and she has such great curiosity and drive to continue her education so she can serve the common Nicaraguan, but knowledge and exposure are another thing from intelligence completely. Maybe I am just a geography nerd (and a nerd in general), but I am all the more grateful for the education I have had through my parents playing country and capitol quiz games with me growing up and through the public education system. In these two weeks, we are fast-tracking our learning through experience, the best way to learn in my book.

7/28: Cultural Exploration

My family had a few more trials and tribulations than usual this morning, but unfortunately such is life. Jenifer asked me if the fan worked through the night after Douglas had tried repairing it, but I had shut if off after it had gotten angry like the previous night. "¡Que vergüenza!" How embarrassing, she exclaimed. Jenifer had that on her mind when one of the balloons from last night's fiesta popped, making joyful backyard play turn in a snap to a crying fest with her boys. With the umm, mature language that comes out of the four-year-old's mouth sometimes I forget he is only four. Until he throws a crying tantrum. There is a disconnect between the language about sex and swearing he has been exposed to and picked up on and the emotional maturity of his actual age... And on top of figuring out how to discipline her son, Jenifer had to bring the stroller again on our walk to drop me off, meaning we had to go the long way still with plenty of rocks, people, and garbage along the way. Even if I do not know what to say or how to support her, I am learning so much about parenting in such a short amount of time, and I so admire her strength as basically a single mom for ninety percent of every day. 

When we got to the circle of families at Don Martin's house, our group was trying to figure out why Jennifer's, Don's, and Kira's families did not hear about or were not invited to my dad's despedida last night. One thing is who knows how well or how long, or even if these families knew each other before our little St. Luke group decided to show up and hang out in this neighborhood for a couple weeks? With the party we just hoped there was not intentional exclusion. It seemed to be a rather impromptu, spur-of-the-moment thing, but it would have been nice if there were some reconciliation within the community. We also wondered, especially as we were this community's first delegation, if there were a sense of competition between families for best accommodations, most welcoming atmosphere, most delicious food, etc. and we hoped that would not drive wedges in the community. We really did just show up in these people's homes and interrupt their lives and schedules for two weeks, in good faith to make meaningful connections and better understand how our host community lived, and community dynamics are indeed a part of it that we perhaps had not really thought about (at least I hadn't). But many of the families were reaching out to the others, it seemed, to make plans for a beach adventure on Sunday (family day!), and hopefully nobody would be left out of at least having that option.

Another slight kink in the day was that we were planning to go to church as a delegation, but while the Cathedral website told Meredith it had 9am services every day, apparently there would not be a service today. She was as perplexed as we were, and while she was picking us up, Francisco was running around León looking for other churches but there were only afternoon services that we would not be able to make. That was unfortunate, but it did give us some more time to hang out at the PML office instead and do a little lesson planning for a morning next week that we would spend with the kids at Gotitas. 

It turned out to be quite fortuitous that we had this time at the office because we got a visit from the great Tim Owen and his wife! He is a Spanish teacher in the Hopkins district where I went to school, as is Paul in my delegation, so when we heard a knock at the office door and a "Hola, soy Profesor Owen," ¡que sorpresa, what surprise! I never had a class with him, but I had helped organize and attended some of the Spanish Club events where he taught some merengue and salsa that helped me fall in love with Latin dance. I had his sister, Profe SOL (If you're reading this, ¡hola Profe!), for class and knew she was very involved with PML and she had led a delegation from Hopkins earlier in the summer, but it was a funny world collision that Profe Owen showed up in Nicaragua when I had not seen him in Minnesota since high school. 

After the funny blast-from-the-past and an unsuccessful trip to the cyber for a few (the internet was out for at least this block apparently), our crew headed out for our first cultural adventure of the day, a trip to the central market! Meredith gave us some advice about what to keep our eyes open for: "If you haven't noticed, they have a huge black market for Hollister, American Eagle, etc., so feel free to stock up on your back-to-school clothes. I guarantee nobody else will have that shirt..." There may have been some excitement about the prospect of knockoff brand items, but many of us were also hoping to find snacks, souvenirs, and woven hammocks. 

We spent about a half hour at the artisan market outside, where we wove in and out of stalls, examined small trinkets, and bartered for what we actually considered taking home. My closest friends and family know this about me, but I rather hate shopping in the U.S., but I really enjoy markets in new and different places. I do not barter for sport as some do, as I would rather pay a perhaps slightly higher price from a nice vendor who is selling something of good value and quality. I managed to find a couple things that called to me for my momma and my boyfriend back home in that half hour our group had in that section, and then we all moved on to the clothing market. I did not really need anything, so I just wandered with a few of the others and kept my eye out for a beautiful hammock to take back with me to be my lasting souvenir and last resort for a possible unfurnished apartment down the road.

The busy streets of the market area were further crowed by stores and stalls spilling their wares and a different dance or pop beat out onto the sidewalks. And then suddenly we stumbled onto a gorgeous outdoor air mall! The Spanish-style tiled roof would abruptly slope down and cut off in large squares to create courtyards of sorts, and there were aisles and aisles of clothes, shoes, bags, sporting equipment, and more. 

While I find markets fascinating to observe people and customs, I generally have a rule to not take pictures, or at least be obvious about it, because this is people's livelihood and normal way of life. It is not a people zoo. But I did sneak a couple to give you all a small taste of the outdoor air market.

Here's Chris taking everything in.

Jennifer and me (Thanks Photographer Paul!).

It was interesting that Jennifer, and I were on the receiving end of shop owners calling out to advertise and encourage purchases, but Paul said he never got approached as we did. We were all just browsing, but the kids wanted to buy a soccer ball for their neighborhood, which was sweet of them. And they enlisted Francisco, native Nicaraguan, to help them drive the price down once they figured out what they wanted.

They were successful in their purchase, and then we all met back at the cathedral at 12:15 to take our microbus to Pizza Roma, where we were the only customers except a table for two. Why were there hardly any people at lunchtime at this restaurant? It certainly was tasty food we discovered, but it was perhaps beyond the means of many Nicaraguans. Need to keep that in mind. We certainly had enough space to spread out a little bit, and our group split into an adults' table and a kids' table, and while Meredith the anciana (ancient one, she's all of 26) joined the adults, Francisco and I bummed at the kids' table to share stories and sustenance.






Back to the oficina de PML we went after we had been fed for a couple cultural activity lessons, the first one being piñata making! The PML secretary Carolina is secretly an expert piñata maker, we learned, so she would be our instructor. She even made the goopy glue from scratch at home.

Carolina and Meredith demonstrated our day one task: shaping the piñata with paper mache. We would come back in a couple days to do the outer design.

Carolina's homemade yucca dust glue to cement the newspaper strips.

What's more, she decided to turn our learning experience into a competition. We split into six pairs, and because she had two piñata designs for us, three teams would do the cara de payaso, clown's face, and the three other teams would do tomates, tomatoes. Here, Joy and Luci teamed up to do a tomato.

I actually got to pop off to Meredith's computer and left my dad in the capable helping hands of Francisco so I could blog that at least we had all survived so far, and that ended up being the only real-time Nica blog post I could do while we were actually there. But I did run out to snap a couple of photos of the piñata preparations as well. 

Francisco would still be a great addition to our team for the decorating day as well because that would be after my papa left our delegation - thanks guys, for making the actual shape of our tomate!

With our paper mache set to dry for a couple of days, our next cultural activity instructor arrived to attempt to teach us some baile foklórico, Nicaraguan folkloric dance. She was extremely patient with our gringo feet as we learned basic pasos, steps, and then brief chunks of choreography she started to string together. Our main goal was to function well enough to not embarrass ourselves too badly at the despedida next Thursday night, our farewell party with our host families. We hoped to provide some entertainment and show we have been trying to work hard, but with choreography memorization and a part in the partner turn where it seemed Leif would somehow end up on the floor and got us all giggling for the next half of the dance.... we had more work to do. It was fun to imagine doing this dance with us women in long flowy skirts and guys in hats, but we would have to wait until our dress rehearsal next week to see what our rented costumes would look like.

Meredith got us in action here.

We stuffed as many pasos into our brains and muscle memory for that hour and a half, and then we voted to do a little salsa with the remaining half hour. Going back to my days with Profe Owen at Hopkins High School, I just love the rhythm and sass of salsa and was excited to share that love with the rest of the St. Luke crew. The internet had ceased to function, though, as Meredith and our instructor were searching for some salsa music, and luckily I had a few salsa songs on my phone locked away in the back of the office, Don was able to hook my phone up to the speakers, and we got some queen of salsa herself, Celia Cruz, to be our salsa lesson soundtrack.

Ever humble, Francisco was not one to boast about his salsa abilities, but he could definitely rock the rhythm and turn combinations, and it was fun to see ballet dancer Kira picking it up quickly with his lead. I got to dance with my papa for a bit as the rest of us got the basics down and attempted Fran's patterns.

If only we could dance the night away... but we returned home to our families, and I realized I had to say goodbye to my dad! He had to leave el domingo, Sunday, so he could make it back home to work on Monday, so I would not see him again until I got home with the rest of the delegation. We did some stuff-transferring, everyone said their goodbyes to dear Darrell, and I helped translate his oral thank-you to his host mama.

While my dad was sadly figuring out how to spend his final night with his family, the rest of us planned how to spend Family Day with our families! Most families still wanted to take the day off and go with their delegates to the beach, and Paul's and my family still had some logistics to make that work. We took our long walk home with a couple kids in tow and Diddier, the oldest, riding on the back of a neighbor girl's bike.

Diddier and Diederich, like every night without fail, followed me into my room when we got home, and this time, the two-year-old thought it would be hilarious to just run in, grab something from my bag, and run out laughing. Ugh haha. We horsed around so I could distract them from investigating my things, and I also gave them a squishy baseball my dad had passed along, so of course we ran outside to play with it immediately. Diddier did not really understand the concept of "suave" when playing catch, or when we would encourage "nice and easy" throws in English. So he got me running a little bit, which was totally fine until it got dark, the baseball hit a rock, made it through the minimalist barbed wire fence, and was not to be seen until morning despite a ten-minute hunt with flashlights.

After a snack he still wanted to play, so he grabbed a platillo, a frisbee, which in his home was a cardboard circle covered in tin foil, and we tossed it back and forth by the side of the house that was slightly more well-lit. He threw it crazily as he did the baseball, but when it was his turn to catch, he would shut his eyes and turn his back, so I guess the catching instinct will have to come with time. Generally it helps to keep your eyes open to be able to catch things. He seemed to still be having fun at least!

I kind of like how family and friends just stop by sometimes, and tonight we got a visit from Jenifer's cousin Jimi while she was cooking so that he would fix my fan (apparently it had broken again). But él es bien serio, he is quite serious, and perhaps I am an intimidating person, but he did not even say hi to me. But it was fun to observe how the boys looked up to him and how he kept them in line, and further, how the only smile I had ever seen float across his face appeared when he bust out a baby voice to talk to Diegmar, the seven-month-old! I was happy to get a second smile out of him when I asked him what he liked to watch on TV as he was changing the channels and adjusting the antenna. He replied, "Cualquier cosa (whatever), pero más películas... (but more movies)" and found some dramatic movie on TV to settle into. Further conversational success from this stoic man: he asked me what my age was and was surprised (as many are) that I am the same age as his cousin, my host mama, Jenifer!

Jimi hung out with us for a little while and por fin, finally, we all enjoyed some gallo pinto (Nica's version of rice and beans and its own spices), bananos fritos (fried sweet bananas), and a type of queso that Douglas's mom had made. Diederich, my buen ayudante, my good helper, ran after me to do the dishes, and he just did not want to stop. He took his sweet time, and he even grabbed his toy sheep, toy horse, and a couple of coins by the sink to wash too. So cute, and a positive use for his energy (parenting revelations!).

This was just part of the long process of getting the kids to bed, and as Jenifer sang Diegmar to sleep in her rocking chair, we settled into the night as well. New knowledge of the night:
- Dulces, sweets and candy, are pretty cheap, but helados, ice cream, is not. It is hard to conceptualize or measure poverty, but this tradeoff scenario hit me: for un pobre, as Jenifer said, how are they going to afford or justify a $3 ice cream for each person when that is the total cost of una cena, a dinner, for the family?
- Enoc, another one of Jenifer's cousins, the jokester, outside of his normal job (I don't know if I ever learned what his real job is...) is a volunteer for the cruz roja, the Red Cross.
- Jimi, Mister Serious, is basically a pro soccer player! But he also has gallos, roosters, about which I perhaps naively asked, "What for?" "¡Son para pelear!" - They're for fighting! While some people walking down the street with a chicken or rooster under their arm are just taking it to the market, cock-fighting is still a very real hobby or sport or whatever you want to call it.
- There are no mosquitos here. I had noticed this before, especially within the context of being warned about possibly needing to sleep under mosquito netting. And coming from Minnesota, where these pests can be joked about as being our state bird, it was refreshing to not have to take any extra precautions to protect my precious blood here. "Pero en la casa de la Jessica sí, sí hay. Son horribles, y le pican a través de las pijamas," Jenifer said. She is lucky to not have mosquitos in her house or neighborhood, but there are in Jessica's house, and they are horrible, even biting you through your pajamas! Perhaps I will have to ask Paul for the lowdown on that.
- While we may see Nicaragua as a pretty traditional, patriarchal society, and it is in many respects, at least in this family the strong female role extends beyond the home. Jenifer is looking forward to the day, soon, when she will graduate from college in one year with her law degree, and because Douglas is a bus driver and can therefore drive anywhere, she wants to move to more of the northern region  where there are more opportunities to be a lawyer. She could find job postings and applications online like I am doing back at home, and they could move while the boys were still young if it works out.
- Jenifer has a lot of curiosity about what the people are like in the U.S. One blunt question she asked, still in a very respectful manner, was, "¿Hay personas con piel morena?" - Are there people with darker skin? Given her only experience with estadounidenses, United Statesians, is with our delegation, and she would probably see an overwhelming number of white people broadcasting from the U.S., this is quite a valid question when you think about it. We had had some good talks about immigration from Latin America and the Latino population in the U.S., but now I got to conjure up my public school education and history knowledge to explain how people came from Europe, wiped out much of the Native American populations, forcibly brought people from Africa over and made them slaves, and are now semi-accepting of immigrants and refugees from all over the world. After a day of learning about some traditions in Nicaraguan culture, I just had a lot of threads to tie together about my culture in a conscientious way in a very short amount of time. Phew.

Well, that's all, folks. Apologies for the lack of pictures today! Thanks for sticking it out with me to the end if you did :-)

7/27: Pinturas y Playeras

"Man, it's a hot one, like seven inches from the mid-day sun..." Santana and Rob Thomas were the soundtrack to my night, as the fan in my room made angry noises in the middle of the night so I turned it off and woke up a little toasty without the moving air. But the warm weather meant a perfect day for our first truly touristy experience, an afternoon at one of Nicaragua's beautiful beaches! My host mama asked what type of traje de baño I was going to wear, as standards of modesty vary widely between countries and cultures, but for us extranjeros, foreigners, bikinis are just fine. And she was so excited for me to be able to go - it is a treat for the average Nicaraguan. She said she had not been in seven years, and she will not be able to go for several more, when the kids are older. Many other host families were considering taking their delegates to the beach on family day as well, so some of our group would have twice the opportunities to get swept out to see by the famed undertow we were consistently warned about. 

Before we would cool off in the refreshing Pacific, we got to get a little dusty and messy with art projects - my favorite! We drove to Taller Xuchialt, Xuchialt workshop, the community art collective supported in part by PML.

Paintings hung everywhere inside, including this one on the ceiling that references the indigenous sun god like we had seen in the Catholic church in Sutiaba. The name Xuchialt itself is the original nombre indígena, indigenous name, of this pueblo, but the Spanish could not pronounce it so they named the town Sutiaba. The founders of Xuchialt wanted the community to embrace its indigenous roots in name, symbolism, and forms of dance, music, and art. 

This one was particularly close to home, as it combined symbols and elements from León and Minnesota to highlight the exchange relationship between Xuchialt and Perpich art school in Golden Valley, Minnesota, not too far from where I live!

Lenon, the sub-director, and a couple of profes who were probably in their mid-twenties gave us a brief overview of this workshop that promotes culture, is youth-run, and all volunteer. They have classes for guitarra (guitar), danza (dance), pintura (painting), and sometimes other subjects, depending on who, Nicaraguan or foreign, is available to teach them.

It has been a trying journey in its six years for its importance to be recognized by the community, but Xuchialt has done so well that some students who have graduated from here have become art teachers themselves. The teachers had all started as students, and with the support of projects like Minnesota/León were able to make this art school. They worked hard to get certification from Managua so that Xuchialt's students who take classes and earn certifications can see those achievements transfer almost anywhere else in the country, especially in better schools in Managua. And so you readers know, part of PML's ongoing financial support is dedicated to sponsoring scholarships to kids who want to attend classes here but may not be able to afford materials or the mensual fee of 70 cordobas, so if you are supporting PML, you are supporting the chance for youth in this community to learn and master beautiful, traditional forms of art! The teachers themselves completely volunteer their time and say they are "paid in satisfaction." Furthermore, when they sell their own work in the gallery, ten percent goes back to the school itself.

To see an example of some of the work done by the profes themselves, we went across the street for a tour of this enormous mural they collaborated on with students as well. Stretching down the block, it invoked symbols vital to Nicaraguan cultural history and cultural present, starting with the indigenous jefe, cacique Adiac and the tamarind tree (which Lenon and Meredith are standing in front of in the picture below). He was a proud indigenous warrior who defended his pueblo against the Spanish, only to be captured and hanged in the enormous tamarind tree, and this tree fell only three years ago after over five hundred years of life. Other symbols weave the histories and tales of indigenous and Spanish heritage, embracing tradition and encouraging today's generation to learn and understand their history.

In this section of the mural, the ferris wheel and carousel are a display of the fair of St. Lucia, linked to more traditional images to the right, the myths of the golden crab, other indigenous gods, and a big black snail, the source of the name Xuchialt/Sutiaba and a source of calories back in the day.

Another theme was how language is evolving through technology advances, as this scene celebrates accessibility of sign language, and another highlighted a mobile phone with messages in the native indigenous language. So in terms of modern communication, "The medium has changed but the message has not," my papa said.

This mural was pretty spectacular. Seriously. And the wonderful thing is they have room to keep expanding down the next block of blank wall, but that would take some funds to pay for the bureaucratic processes for that space...

With all its focus on indigenous heritage, the main style of painting Xuchialt promotes is called pintura primitivista, or primitivist painting, which became popularized especially during the revolution. In this style, you paint vivid nature scenes using simple, bright colors, and what really defines not only the genre but your own work is painting the trees leaf by leaf, and how you paint your leaves becomes your firma, your signature. Primitivist paintings can have a tendency to look rather busy, as they try to include a lot of details and animals, rocks, people, and plant forms in the scene.

Lenon demonstrated for us as he talked, and he whipped up this amazing primitivist painting in just ten minutes! We would all get a raffle ticket to possibly win his demo, but first, we would get to paint on our own! With some help from the profes...

Dad is inspired by Lenon's paintbrush placement for safekeeping (tucked within the curls) and also by Profe Soany's young daughter's skills and tips.

Our coordinadora Meredith became fotografa, our photographer, while we worked! I like bright colors and sunsets...

Pastor Don getting up close and personal with his painting.

Kira pondering her next element to add.

Leif putting his firma on the trees.

Lenon thought my painting could use a little more life, so he painted a garza, a heron, and then I attempted to paint another one reflected across it. I was pretty pleased with the result - thanks for the help, Lenon!

Thanks to some technique tips and added elements on our pinturas from the profes, we turned out a pretty decent batch of art! Not pro by any means, but at least we passed and could move on to the next exercise: alfombras de aserín, sawdust carpets. The reddish-brownish sawdust was used as the base for the carpet already laid out for us on the floor, and then a naturally whiter, more color-absorbant sawdust they dyed with a couple of our youth volunteers to make red, teal, yellow, blue, purple, black, and green. This art form is part of a hundred-year-old tradition unique to the city of León, passed down within families, and is now being disseminated throughout the country. Apparently it used to be that only on Good Friday would residents have a competencia, a competition, on a certain "Calle de Alfombras," street of carpets. This competencia has been a great way for the school to obtain some good press and standing within the community as out of over a hundred carpets, Xuchialt has gotten third and first in the last couple years!

Here Lenon shows us a small demonstration, and a dolphin leaped out of the sawdust in a matter of seconds it seemed.

We split into adults and kids (I was considered an adult for this one) and had our own little competencia. My team continued on the sea creature theme Lenon had started, we got to use some shells in our design as well, and our hands got dyed.

Don intently filling in the water as "Time's up!" was called.

Meanwhile, Zoany's daughter had changed into beautiful traditional garb to perform a folk dance for us following our alfombra contest.

Here's the youth team with Francisco helping and Zoany's daughter looking on. The kids decided to go with a theme of many of the symbols and myths we had been learning about, including a couple of their inside jokes from all they had learned.

Messy is best in my book!

She's so cute, looking at her mama the whole time as she took pictures. Accompanied by traditional guitar, recorder, and singing, she showed us a thing or two (that we would have to learn how to do in the coming days in our own folk dance lessons!)

Following this interlude, we had our profes and anyone else who wanted to judge the teams (our coordinators, other PML board members who showed up at Xuchialt, etc...) put in their votes, and adults won, no big deal, over the protests of the teenagers. To come full circle, after carpets are made and finished, they must be destroyed. Thus, carpet-wrestling...

... and carpet jumping!

Our final contest of the day was the raffle for Lenon's demo painting, so we were all instructed to draw slips of paper out of a little bag. While a raffle in our culture is perhaps more indicative of our tendency toward instant gratification and the first person's number drawn is the winner, here, they pick one number that loses, a second number that loses, and then the third number is the winner. And mine was the third number! I won a hug from Lenon and his painting to take home, ¡que suerte! (What luck!)

Many of us also bought paintings or t-shirts made by Xuchialt and its profes for more souvenirs from León and to support the school, so I actually would return home with three paintings: one I did that Lenon helped me with, Lenon's demo, and another in the shape of Nicaragua with nature scenes. We thanked our profes profusely, and then had a half hour drive to become playeras: beach-goers.

 Suyapa, our lunch and afternoon destination, is a restaurant in the price range of many tourists but not many Nicas. The seafood here is supposed to be good even though León is not known for it, so many of us opted for something del mar, from the sea, while others got excited to have their first non-rice-and-beans, possibly American cuisine since leaving home. I was a personal fan of camarones a la plancha, grilled shrimp, with sides of vegetales and patatas, vegetables and potatoes. The youth may have been comforted by spaghetti, but perhaps the adults were moreso by the music selection of mainly American music from the '80s - Dad at one point exclaimed, "I have to come to Nicaragua to hear 'Love Shack'?!"

I ended up sitting next to and conversing mainly with Idalia, one of the board members and actually one of the fundadoras, founders, of PML. She gave me the PML spiel and how it started in the mid-80's as a cooperative learning how to build houses and take care of that community need with support from Nancy, a Minnesotan dedicated to serving León and working together. Idalia also gave me her Herbalife spiel, joking that after her husband passed away, she married Herbalife, a line of nutrition supplements and products she now swears by and tells many friends and acquaintances about. She said there is simply not much knowledge in society about what people are eating, the amount of unhealthy fats in the diet, quantity of food, and necessity of fruits and vegetables. Idalia swears by Herbalife products and say she is lighter, healthier, more energetic, and she is spending less money on food. It is great she has found what works for her and is working to spread nutrition awareness to her fellow Nicas - if you're intrigued, here is the Herbalife website: http://www.herbalife.com/

After some pleasant food and conversation, it was time to enjoy this heavenly black sands beach.   

Our boys, Leif, Cody, and Chris jumped straight into the salt water.

Meanwhile, Paul, Dad, and Francisco tossed a frisbee in the sand...

  

... and they got our bus driver, Jose, in the game!

Francisco making Jose run a little bit.

 These black rock formations and sparkling tides were just incredible.

The boys took off running to go exploring the rocks, so I followed them to take some pictures and do a little climbing myself.

Herculean poses. 

"Look, a crab! Oh, I think it's dead..."

Luci and Kira got in on playing in the tides too.

Jennifer and I then left the kids to take a lovely beach walk all the way to a lagoon that forbade us from walking any further as we could have been pulled out to sea. But it was a lovely, relaxing walk and nice to get to know Jennifer better! 

 I had put my camera away after taking pictures of the teenagers, but Jennifer had brought hers on our walk and wanted to make sure I had proof I was here, so here I am!

 

 When we got back to the group, I tried to convince my dad to do one of my favorite beach activities that I had been fortunate enough to do on the beaches of Rio as well, some beach sprints! Running long distances is not my thing, but I love a good sprint. Plus, running barefoot on sand is a harder and more natural workout. I threw out the idea to the group, and I was pleasantly surprised that Don said he would come, and then Leif and Cody, and then Joy all joined in. We did a nice jog the opposite direction Jennifer and I had walked, and I turned around and Francisco had come along too. For a while we just stood in the tide, letting the sand cover our feet and sinking into the earth. Eventually we headed back, Leif hit a real sprint so I took off chasing him and then did a couple more sprints back to our camp with Don. To cap off the afternoon, a few of us got some fudgesicles and a few of the adults had their Toñas and margaritas. 

Overall, it was a lovely beach experience. It was not overrun with umbrellas, the ocean water was warm, and it was just so chill. And it really was great that Jose joined us for both lunch and frisbee. Especially people in positions of service and perhaps lower classes do not expect invitations or perhaps feel comfortable as part of the group, so he waits for an invitation from us and I'm glad our group has tried to make the effort to include him - he's pretty great!

Speaking of Jose, on our ride home, our microbus had a bit of an encounter. I so wish I had been able to capture this on camera, but we were barreling around a curve on the highway and had to slow down behind a truck, which would normally be no big thing. However, this time the truck swerved around a campesino walking his bull. On the highway. The truck veered left to cross over the center line and zip back to the correct side of the highway, and Jose went left to try to curve around the now trotting bull as well. It was kind of a close call, but Jose made it back to our lane to hollers and roller coaster effects in the back of the bus, only to see two men on bikes coming down the hill and zipping straight for the bull. We all turned around to see what would happen and were thrilled to see the bikers react quickly enough to split and go completely around this traffic impediment. Meanwhile, the campesino ran after his bull, whipping it for its disobedience. Crisis averted.

We arrived about ten minutes early, and when Paul's host mom/my host aunt Jessica arrived, she was all bubbly that the goodbye dinner my dad's host family had invited my host family and me to (because my dad was leaving at the end of this first week) was no longer just with our two families but was turning into more of a surprise party. So people were trying to keep it hush-hush without my dad hearing about it, and family by family headed over to my dad's home after they got to go home and change out of beach clothes first. But because my host family and Paul's lived so far away, my host family was on the way and we just helped set things up as other families brought their food to add to the feast. The kids stayed playing outside in the street, so I soon joined them with the other youth to play catch, frisbee, monkey in the middle, and other silly games until we were all called in to eat.

My host family actually did not even arrive until after Doña Patricia, my dad's host mom, had made sure everybody had a plate of food and then there was still food to spare for Jenifer and her three boys. Unfortunately it seemed the word had not gotten to Jennifer's, Don's, or Kira's families, so we missed them for the night, which was too bad! Doña Patricia's house was indeed overflowing with people and food, but we could have made some space for sure.

Gathering to eat.

Joy playing with one of her adorable host sisters.

My papa and his host family.

After we all had been fed, the youngsters wanted to run back outside to play, but my papa called everybody's attention to make a "flowery" thank-you speech, and I attempted to translate as best I could. He just wanted to share how meaningful of an experience it was for him even though just one week and that he was sad to leave. I helped him thank las cocineras, the wonderful cooks, his familia, and everybody else who made his special despedida, goodbye party, possible. Hopefully my papa and I will both get a chance to come back some day.

Thankfully we got an opportunity to take a group photo (sadly missing Don, Kira, Jennifer, and their families) - here's the crew!

We wanted to get a picture too. Here's my host mom, Jenifer, in the middle holding Diegmar, me holding Diederich on the left, Jessica on the right holding her son Derrick, and Diddier down in front, missing the photo memo. 

As families peeled out, we stayed for a little while to help clean up, and Jenifer asked if she could take a couple chimbombas, balloons, home for her boys, which definitely made easier the longer route home with the stroller. The boys were a bit rowdy, so at least we had eaten before we got home because that would have been more craziness for Jenifer to deal with. She still had to cook for Douglas, and plus, it was his birthday! But he still would not be home for a while, and before the boys got tired out, a couple other random boys from the community came over and they all played with the balloons outside. 

The oldest was about seven and really nice, and he sat and talked to me for a few minutes. I could actually understand him, unlike my silly host brothers! And in contrast to his more mature friend, Diddier, the four year-old, decided to bust out some sass with me because he thought I understood nothing... He threw some insults at me basically to test my comprehension, and I definitely understood him laughing after saying I danced like a cow and then moving on to some less savory words that are not fit for my blog, nor for spilling out of a four year-old's mouth. "Where did you learn those words, boy?" was all I could think, and I indeed asked him where he got that from and Jenifer said he has taken to following a couple of rebeldes, a couple older rebellious boys at school, and she desperately hopes he will grow out of it. Fingers crossed.

Eventually Douglas got home and the boys fell asleep, so I just hung out with my host parents for a while until bed, talking about various life topics. Things I learned:

- "Cuando esté seca, lo todo cuesta más" - when it is dry, everything costs more (in reference to foodstuffs). 

- Here the nannying situation is the reverse from what it is in the States. In the U.S., nannies are hired by families who can afford them, while here, nannies are typically for poor families in which the moms have to work to support them. 

- According to Jenifer, medicamentos (medications) are expensive, but the ones insurance makes cheaper no curan, they don't cure. Some people really cannot afford the meds they need, but Jenifer says "Sufro cuando otros sufran" (I suffer when others suffer), so even though she needs to help her family by running her farmacia, she gives them to people in exchange for what they can afford to pay.

I had actually intended to sleep after showering, but my fan was apparently still being fussy, so Douglas took it apart and attempted to fix it, and Jenifer and I ended up talking until 1. Off for a good night's rest we went!