Nicaraguan Classroom

In just three weeks in El Viejo my life already seems so settled here. The Birthday celebration this week really made me feel like I had become part of the community. It's difficult to put into words what you feel like on the morning of your 27th birthday, when realizing that through drug and alcohol addiction, university degree, great job and responsible life, you have arrived at school teacher in poor Central American pueblo. Most of the time this is a great feeling, but in complete honesty their are gaps where your still have lingering thoughts of something that resembles the American Dream, and when you have even just one of those images in your mind the last place in the world you would want to be to make it a reality is in a classroom of 60 screaming Nicaraguan teenagers who think that Continental America is a place in Africa. I am not saying that this is the emotional state I awoke to on my birthday, but clearly my detailed description of what that might be like suggests that I have had more than a split second thought of my now, very glamorous past life in the U S of A. Oddly enough there are no doubt Peace Corp Volunteers all over Nicaragua, and the world for that matter that would argue my life is still pretty glamorous. Whatever, I got a bed, a table, and one of the hottest PC site in the Western Hemisphere.

On Thursdays I spend my mornings in the big public institute where more than 1000 teenagers attend classes every morning, and another 1000 or more come in the afternoon. Many of the classes are filled with boyfriends and girlfriends who spend more time whispering sweet lollabyes to one another than they do taking notes. Many of these couples have come to the conclusion in 15 years that they are undoubtedly in Love in a way that no human being, especially some Idiot American Profe could every understand. It's hard to laugh at them when you've been there, but I ask them please to consider their circumstances before deciding to make whoopy in the park bringing yet another starving infant into our sweet Nicaragua. Of course like in any school there are the kids who study hard and dream of the day when they will sit in a University class room in Leon or somewhere fancy studying Literature or some other fascinating subject that the their friends wouldn't even understand. I had a girl tell me the other day she wishes to speak Arabic. ARABIC! Why? She told me it was a beautiful language and she wishes there were a place in Nicaragua where she could pursue this dream. Clearly there are more than a handful of students with great potential, and it is for those students I hope I may somehow bring new insight and motivation to accomplish goals that others wouldn't even think possible.

As for my party the kids first wanted to break an egg over my head in customary fashion, but I declined that offer letting them know that I had another school I was required to teach at and rotten egg dripping from my face wouldn't serve me well in my first lesson. At the end of the first class they started taking cordobas so that they could afford to buy a pinata. 30 minutes later one of the girls who had dissapeared to run into town returned with a beautiful, colorful pinata that was filled with candy. This was an event not just for my classes, but for the entire school. It didn't matter that only a select group had chipped in to buy Profe's gift. By the time we had this bad boy strung up on a tree outside the class there were hundreds of kids around. I think people outside of the school heard about our celebration and made their way in with hopes of snatching a chocolate. After being blind folded and spun I attached the air with a tree limb that had been passed to me in the preperation process. This is common in Nicaragua, that is to use wood, machetes, and other strange objects for things like fixing bikes, breaking pinatas, and whatever else might come up during the day. Either way the wood stick was functional, and actually kind of empowering. There I was in front of several hundred Nicaraguan teenagers violently waving a stick at the air. I finally struck the pinata, and because I was late for my other class I grabbed it by the neck and just started pounding. Pounding with the stick, with my fist, with all of my power I pounded. I finally felt the break and immediately was tackled to the ground. I managed to get my hands on one tootsie roll before the madness had settled. It all happened so fast that I didn't even realize how special it was until later. With the head of my pinata tied to the back of my bike, sweating from the activities of the morning, I made my way to my second school, proud to be a teacher in Nicaragua.

My Pad

Ok, so I realize this looks pretty nice right? I must admit the bed is very comfortable, but it is also very freaking HOT! Not a night goes by that there are not bombs exploding in the streets. There is no war, but the entire month of August is filled with street parties in celebration of yet another patron saint. In the absence of television, and my recent disgust with reading, I have been watching movies on my laptop on a nightly basis. Last night I enjoyed "Juno" which was one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time. It's amazing the power that movies have over my psyche. After two hours in front of my computer I can almost forget that I live in Nicaragua, and movies, especially when seen in a big theatre, are absolutely positively American.

Anyway, I also have a shared space in the back yard where sits some fruit trees, a big hamac, and my cooking and washing stations. The bathroom and shower are also in the patio which I share with the kind Senora Norma that lives next door. The privacy has been a breath of fresh air, and I am feel like having my own space if the first block in building my own life here in "El Viejo".

Good Times!

Unfortunately my blog entries can not be accompanied by pictures until I get my hands on an Olympus cable. Either way it is worth mentioning that pictures would have a tough time telling the stories of the past several days. I have learned my first lesson on receiving visitors in Nicaragua. KEEP IT SIMPLE! Doing anything in this country as a tourist is equally as expensive as it would be traveling to some place in the United States for a weekend. The nice restaurants are priced not for Nicaraguans, but for Americans. Somehow these people have heard what it costs to buy a nice steak and lobster dinner. The first question I should be asking myself right now is what the HELL was I doing eating a steak and lobster dinner? Well, you would have to know my visitor to answer that question, but I was. The price? Well, we don't really need to break down the budget item by item, but we started out in the hole after a pick pocketing incident, and the 180 bucks I spent to get my surfboard down here was definitely a shot to the trusty Peace Corp salary. To only make matters worse, financially that is. I have to buy a bed, a fan, really I need like 12 fans, but a single fan will have to do for now, and whatever else you might think of buying to survive living on your own down here. I don't know, a little mini stove, refrigirator, que mas? Either way it's gonna get expensive. The bed I bought this morning set me back 3400 Cordobas, divide that by 19.45 and you get the dollar amount. I don't want to look at it otherwise I would just tell you what it was. It might not sound like a lot, but if you keep in mind that I will not make much more than that amount in the entire month of August you start to understand my pain.
I know that you can't put a price-tag on having a friend visit you, but if you could it would be an expensive one. Back at it this morning in my site and judging by the looks of my bank account I'll need stay away from all places that even know that Americans exist for at least the next 9 months. For some reason Nicaraguans have in their minds that American's have money. When I see folks traveling from Europe I grab the closest Nicaraguan and do a quick conversion from Euro's to Cordobas just to put things in perspective for them. You should see their eyes when we convert Pounds to Cordobas. That is when they get really excited. Still no matter what I say they never seem to truly buy in. The common belief is that while I live here and don't make money now, somewhere in the United States of America sits a bank account full of money that I will use to buy all of my dreams with once I return from this 2 year retreat into poverty. I only wish that their idea was in fact my reality. There have been occasions where I was approached by a sick, possibly starving child in the streets. Of course I would love to hand each of these children the keys to a bright future, or at least enough money to buy themselves some clothes and food. But instead I had to explain to them that no matter how long they looked at me with their saddened faces it would not change the fact that I can not share my money with them. My food? Yes, when there is any left over, which we know is not very often, but not my money. I try to explain that I am a volunteer, I don't actually make very much money, but of course I just get that look that says, "you selfish American, go ahead and eat your jumbo hotdog while I try to fight these parasites off another day".
I can hang my hat on at least one thing this week. On Thursday I will be 27 years old, and I know that everyone has sent big checks to help me save the world. If not, at least pause today and remember me when you stop by Starbucks to pick up that Iced Cappacino.

WORK HARD! PLAY HARD!

After just three weeks into my new life in "El Viejo" Chinandega I have found my days full, often running from my wake up call at 5 am until nearly 6 or 7 in the evening. You might think these seems odd because historically I haven't had a reputation for overworking myself. However here in Nicaragua it is a little different because most of the time I don't really feel like I'm working at all. Whether it's in the school observing and helping with classes, or in the village making visits to the homes of the small business owners who wake up every day in hopes that they may generate a few dollars of income to feed their families, I am always on the go. The diversity in my work has kept me excited just about all the time over the first several weeks. I manage to mix some diversity into my weekends as well. Usually on Friday I am looking forward to at least on day in the ocean. Lately I have been spending a lot of time with some really cool Nicaraguans who live on the beach and keep my weekends interesting. One individual specifically Patricio, a 17 year old surfer who grew up on a surfboard reminds me of myself when I was his age. Which I might add is a little scary.

There are so many people to work with and help that sometimes I just have to step back and realize that there is not time limit on any of the work I'm doing here. All that I can do is prepare myself for each day and try to make people see the goodness in their own lives. Some of the best days I've had so far have come when I spent several hours just talking in some ones home. It feels good when they start including me in the gossip. Well... As long as I am not part of the gossip.

There are so many great stories to share that sometimes I start to feel like it's not worth even trying to describe them. I think I may have found a house in "El Viejo" where I can live for the next 2 years. The home is owned by an elderly woman who lives next door. Her commons area would be shared with me and I would end up sharing her shower and bathroom also, but for the money it is definetively the best place that I could find. At 60$ a month I think that I will almost be able to live on my astonishingly low Peace Corp salary. We won't talk about that right now though. I know times are tough in the United States with the economy and all, but I might mention their is a World Food Crisis and Nicaragua is in high risk of being impacted by the escalating cost of produce. Let's just say the people here aren't so concerned with self-awareness and finding themselves as much as they are finding FOOD!

Your gift baskets are always appreciated...

I have started working a lot in Micro-Finance and most of my time is spent with the women and families that are recieving the small loans. Most of them are very poor and appreciate anyone taking interest in their business. It's really kind of fun to start thinking creatively with someone about how they can maybe sale a few more pieces of bread every day. Other folks are buying clothes and re-selling them in different markets for a nominal profit margin. One woman has a molina which is used to grind corn into batter in order to make tortillas. Tortillas, along with beans and rice are just about all most of these people eat. So, naturally her business thrives, but she is undercharging people to use her machine, and of course she assumes the cost to repair it. At the end of the month she doesn't have any idea what her maintanence costs are or how much revenue was generating by renting out her machine. The project at hand in this situation is to first figure out if she is making money or loosing money. Keep in mind many of my business owners do not read or write so the task of taking accounting, marketing, and budgeting has to be simplified and translated in order for this program to reach the people in need.

The challenges are immense, but the reward is great, and the relationships are so fulfilling. I am starting to sound like a broken record but it is the small things that have the greatest impact.