Las fiestas

This past week has been las fiestas patronales (patron saint festival) for my sleepy host town – a cause of much commotion. Starting last Friday night and ending tonight, the patron saint festivals are a mixture of religious ceremony and merrymaking. The weekend (or, Friday through Sunday) festivities begin promptly at 4:30 AM with bombas and marching bands. I am still not sure why it seems to be necessary to start so early, as everything is done by 5:00 AM. I attempted to find out, but was simply told it was “tradition.” Ah well. The nights are filled with drinking, parties, and dancing until the wee hours of the morning. These dances serve to confirm the seeming universal appeal of Pitbull and LMFAO. I mean…really….who doesn’t love endless repeats of the Party Rock Anthem?

During the week, there were nightly showcases of traditional (as well as less traditional) dancing. A different group of youth were bussed in each night to don the vibrant traditional Nicaraguan festival wear and dance their little hearts out for hours. These kids are quite impressive – I have trouble seeing American adolescents (especially adolescent males) devote themselves so earnestly to an extracurricular that would require them to dress in flashy, sometimes flamboyant, clothing and move and shake their bodies in ways that I would not dare attempt for fear of causing injury, or at the very least, extreme embarrassment. One of the final dance shows of the week featured ghosts, ghouls, witches, and devils. When the music started, there was a second when I thought they might actually be performing Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Much to my disappointment, it was actually a somewhat culturally relevant and more traditional number. However, they did manage to sneak in “Mambo #5,” and perhaps more entertaining, “Land Down Under” during an intermission.

There was also a competition for the Queen of the festival – grueling rounds of pageantry, including sportswear, evening dresses, and homemade costumes made to be representative of the girls’ passions (for example, a dress made of cans and bottles, showing the importance of recycling). This year’s queen, chosen by popular vote, was one of the girls from our youth group. I skipped out before the end, when they decided to count each vote (foam flowers placed in the box of each candidate) out loud on stage, but I was told that she won by a landslide. Clearly I have made some good connections in my short time here.

This weekend concludes the festival. Yesterday, the statue of the patron saint that normally inhabits the catholic church in the center of town made her triumphant return home after having made the rounds for the past week in the outlying rural neighborhoods. Although I was unable to attend the procession due to Saturday morning class, I was told that she was carried for miles on a platform, driving off the demons dancing in front of her (P.S., 3 year old Nicaraguans make excellent, and adorable, diablitos). This morning there was a mass, followed by huge family parties featuring various Nicaraguan delicacies. While my host family is evangelical and therefore does not participate in such activities, I am fortunate enough to live right next to the extended family of another host family, and was able to participate in the making of nacatameles. This particular family’s fiesta is one of the larger in the community, and is monetarily supported by the local alcaldía (mayor’s office). Hundreds of community members were invited to participate, sharing whatever they were able to (a hand here, a pig there). Although it’s Sunday, there will be one more round of raucous dancing at the alcaldía tonight. Tomorrow, it will be back to business for most, although that may include a massive hangover and a later than average start time (perhaps 6 AM as opposed to 5 AM?). For us aspirantes, it will mean an early start and a long bus ride to our practicum week site.

Which brings me to my final thought for this week’s entry: training is flying by! We are about to begin week 6 of 11. Last week we gave our second round of formal presentations at our health centers and in our youth clubs. We endured (actually, it wasn’t that bad) our second round of language interviews to assess our progress. And last but definitely not least, we received out site packets, containing the descriptions of all of places we may potentially call home for the next two years. This week’s practicum sessions will offer us an opportunity to get a better sense of what it means to be a volunteer (as well as see a new part of the country), and a full week to mull over our site options before participating in an informational site fair and site interview the following week. I am trying to keep as open a mind as possible when it comes to future site selection, but I think you’ll be happy to hear that there are several that strike me as potentially good fits, and none that stand out as “bad” sites.

Onward!

Nicaraguan word of the week: Bulla – noise. Used frequently by my host family this past week (“Sarita, use sus tapas – va a haber mucha bulla esta noche” or, “Sarita, use your earplugs. There will be a lot of noise tonight”).