I know. I know. Let me explain.

As I was sitting in the Moravian church yesterday morning, listening to the rise and fall of the voices as songs were sung, prayers recited, and stories shared in honor of World AIDS Day, I found myself reflecting on the events that had brought me from a small town tucked into the mountains near the Honduran border to this coastal community on the other side of the country. And then I realized that it had been a very long time since I’d updated this blog, and that some of you out there might be wondering what has become of me.

A lot has happened in the last two months. I’ll try my best to catch you all up without excessive rambling.

On October 7, I experienced a security incident in my normally sleepy town of San Lucas that resulted in my rather hasty and permanent departure. That Sunday afternoon, as I was sitting in the living room watching a movie, my host granddaughter ran in to close and lock the back door. "Los vagos ya vienen (roughly translated, the bad men are coming)," she told me, and ran back out. Shortly after, I began to hear shouting coming from the road out in front, and the sound of rocks crashing into cement walls and onto the zinc roofing. Confused, I shut off the television and ambled out to the porch to investigate. Which was when the shooting started. I scurried to my room and jammed my security log against the door. Crouched low to the ground, I called a third year volunteer friend.

"During your last two years here, was there ever a shoot-out in your site?" I asked him, voice rising in a mixture of disbelief and panic.

"No. That’s messed up," he replied after a moment. "Are those gunshots I hear in the background?"

"Yeah. What should I do?"

"Call Peace Corps. Right now."

The next twenty minutes were spent on the floor of my room, communicating with several staff members of Peace Corps Nicaragua and waiting for the end of the fighting. When the noise finally died down, I packed a bag and went out to the road. All around me was evidence of the violence: scattered rocks, broken doors and shutters, chunks of cement taken out of walls, long scratches in the pavement. I spoke briefly with my host family, who told me that a gang of around 15 young men from a few of the nearby communities had come to town, armed with rocks and machetes, in order to loot and destroy property. The police, armed with guns, met up with them as they approached my family’s compound, and a fight ensued. Remarkably, few were seriously injured. According to a host cousin, these fights were relatively infrequent but not unknown. I hailed one of the town’s few taxis and started out for Somoto, leaving my host family behind to assess the damage that had been done to their homes.

Those thirty minutes, though terrifying, were game changers. While I had been integrating well, getting to know many of my site’s inhabitants and becoming comfortable with my host family, I had been having significant problems when it came to work. I felt frustrated, restricted, and extraneous. I had started to strongly question my ability to meet my goals and serve my community effectively, and my desire to remain in service. I’d been discussing my difficulties with administration, trying to find a solution outside of early termination, but wasn’t feeling extremely optimistic. And then suddenly, it all changed. I was told that I would not be returning to site (other than to collect my belongings and say my goodbyes), but rather would be staying in Managua until a new site could be developed for me.

So I settled into a hotel by the office, dragging my life with me in half a dozen backpacks, grain storage sacks, and plastic bags. I found work to do while I waited for the staff to find a new site for me. I adopted the hotel staff as my new host family of sorts. I took small trips to Rivas, Esteli, and Carazo to temporarily escape the confines of Managua. I met seasoned volunteers at the end of their service, new trainees who had yet to begin, and many that fell somewhere in between in their service. As the time dragged on, I began to feel like an office installation – another piece of the Peace Corps volunteer lounge furnishings.

I witnessed Nicaragua’s municipal elections, in which the Sandanista party secured the vast majority of mayoral seats and rioting subsequently broke out in several cities nationwide. I spent an evening in the embassy, watching the votes come in that secured Obama’s second term as president. I went to Granada for Thanksgiving and shared a traditional(ish) meal with volunteers, expats, and travelers in a beautiful hotel owned by two sisters and former volunteers.

After a month and a half of waiting, periodic discussions with the staff, and several site visits, the final decision was made. I packed my belongings into the back of a Peace Corps vehicle this past Monday morning and was driven six hours to my new site (for the record, if I had been using public transportation, it would have taken a whole lot longer).

Which brings us to the present, with me sitting in the light-filled wooden church in Pearl Lagoon. A new site. A new beginning. I know I will be faced with challenges and frustrations, but I’m cautiously optimistic. And, after these past two months, I’m at the very least more patient.

An Ode to Corn

While I don’t know for certain, I feel fairly confident in saying that corn is one of Nicaragua’s main agricultural products. The corn here is not as tender or sweet as one might find in the fields of middle America, but it’s cheap, filling, and plentiful. Consequently, the Nicaraguan diet includes a lot of corn, in a wide variety of forms.

In honor of the upcoming Feria de Maiz of Jalapa, Nueva Segovia, THE corn festival of Nicaragua (33 years and still going strong!), I’ve decided to put together a fairly comprehensive list of corn-based foods that you can find here in Nicaragua (in alphabetical order, because I’m a bit obsessive compulsive).

Atol de Elote – a pudding made from fresh corn. Sweet and cinnamony.

Buñuelos – Fried dumplings of corn and cheese, served in a sugary syrup. They are supposedly popular holiday treats.

Chicha de Maiz – a very sugary drink made from dried corn. Bright pink (not sure what prompted this tradition of adding colorant, but it seems that Nicaraguans do not find chicha as appetizing if it isn’t practically glowing in the dark. This same logic is also applied to chicken). Can be fermented for extra fun. 

Elote asada – grilled corn. Simple, tasty, and cheap. I have yet to understand why here, in a nation that loves its salt, grilled corn is eaten completely plain. I like to sneak a little bit of salt onto mine. Adds flavor, and keeps the blood pressure soaring.

Güirila – A sweet pancake made from fresh corn, güirila is tasty on its own but excellent with cuajada (a mild, soft white cheese) and crema (slightly soured cream).

Indio Viejo – A dish of parties and of the poor, indio viejo is a filling stew that can serve many people using few ingredients. Meat, if available, is cooked with onions, tomato, and peppers, and garlic. The meat is then shredded and a broth is created using ground corn tortilla and water. Vegetables may be added if desired and available.

Montuca – Chicken or pork encased in sweet corn dough, wrapped in corn husk and boiled.

Nacatamal – A savory packet of corn dough, rice, potato (because there isn’t quite enough of a variety of carbohydrates without it), meat, onion, tomato, and sweet pepper, all wrapped up in a banana leaf. A very filling, perfectly portable pillow of a meal.

Palomitas – Popcorn! Sold in small bags as a street food, the popcorn here is infinitely better than that which you can purchase in movie theaters in the states. Why? Real butter my friends….real butter. And salt, of course. Sometimes it even comes mixed with M&Ms and/or peanuts.

Pinol and Pinolillo – The official drink of Nicaragua (outside of Flor de Caña), pinol is made from toasted and ground corn, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice. To make pinolillo, add roasted and ground cacao. Can be made with water or milk.

Rosquillas – Savory donut-shaped crackers made from ground corn and cheese. Eaten with coffee. The best are from Madriz!

Rosquetes – The rosquilla’s cookie cousin. Reminiscent of graham crackers.

Sopa de Albondigas – A flavorful minty broth with balls of corn and cheese dough.

Tamal – Here, the tamal is plain – a solid mass of corn dough, steamed in a corn husk. Tamals are typically made from fresh corn, giving it a sweeter flavor. However, a plain (or, ash-flavored) tamal is made for Semana Santa using dried corn.

Torta de Maiz – A sweet corn cake-like bread. Found in most corner stores, and served as an afternoon snack at most meetings. Can become breakfast in a pinch.

Tortilla – a staple, tortillas are usually made fresh in-home and consumed daily. I’m pretty sure that every Nicaraguan female knows how to echar tortillas by puberty. Tortillas are usually made using dried corn that is ground after being pretreated with cal (lyme). However, tortillas can also be made using fresh corn, and are excellent hot off the pan with a bit of salt. Tortillas are eaten at every meal – plain, with cheese, or beans, or soup… Tortillas are also used to make various tasty foods such as tacos, enchiladas, repochetas, quesillos, quesadillas, and burritos.

Feeling a bit like Bubba Gump now…

Words of the Week: Chilote – young corn, elote – fresh corn, maiz – dried corn

A Matter of Perspective

Public transportation options can be somewhat limited when traveling to and from much of Nicaragua outside of the major metropolitan areas (such as they are). For example, if you wish to go to the municipal capital of Las Sabanas from the department capital of Madriz, you may take one of eight busses that depart daily for Las Sabanas or Cusmapa. You will be fighting for a spot on one of these busses with everyone that wishes to get to any location between Somoto and that bus’s final destination. Normally packed to the limit (and sometimes even defying what would appear to be physically possible), a bus may be in even greater demand if the bus before is not running. In such instances, passengers end up overflowing, hanging out of doors, off of the sides, and up onto the luggage rack. For, after all, it is better to find any spot at all than to wait – the next bus, if it comes, will most likely be equally crowded, if it comes at all.

So if, one day, you find yourself riding on top of the retired school bus rather than inside it on your way to a rural Nicaraguan community, you might just start to look at the world around you a little differently.

First, you might notice how the air seems fresh and clean. Your bus is one of the few vehicles on the road, and while it might be an ecological nightmare in itself, it cannot spew out sufficient fumes to fill the air with the level of pollution created by heavy traffic and manufacturing.

Being much higher up, you might be able to see beyond the dense shrubbery growing beside the winding dirt road. You might notice the humble homes down in the valleys that you had previously not been able to see, and begin to realize how tenaciously humans strive to populate a land, even in the absence of access to basic resources such as electricity and potable water. You might gaze upon the patchwork mountainside fields and marvel at how the farmers have successfully cultivated corn, beans, tomatoes, and other crops on such steep inclines. Then, you might wonder how these people transport their crops to market, access essential supplies (Then again, what is actually essential? That which we may think we absolutely must have may be seen as an optional or luxury item to others.), or receive medical attention in the event of an emergency without roads or vehicles.

Having a clearer view of the world around you than you would had you been inside the hot, cramped vehicle, you might also become aware of how much is growing and thriving around you, even beside this dusty trail. Flowers wave as you pass by. Iridescent butterflies flit in and out of the shadows cast by trees heavily laden with fruit, while birds in a riot of colors soar and swoop above. As the altitude increases, you will notice that oaks and pine trees begin to replace the more tropical varieties of trees. Just make sure to tear your eyes away from the beauty around you every once in a while; if you fail to watch where you are going, you may not duck in time to avoid being struck in the face by the occasional tree branch hanging low over the road.

And, after an hour, despite being a bit dusty and sunburned, you might find that you enjoyed the trip immensely more than you might have, had you found a seat or a few inches of standing room.

Word of the week: Arriba - above

Just wanted to say...

Happy Birthday to my fantastic father!  I wish I could be there to celebrate with you today, Dad, but as we both know we'll have the opportunity soon enough!  Until then, enjoy some

and maybe some

Phrase of the day: ¡Feliz cumpleaños!  Happy Birthday

Ya queremos pastel, ya queremos pastel, aunque sea un pedacito pero queremos pastel. (now we want some cake, now we want some cake, even if it's a small piece, we want some cake)

And DENGUE was its name-o

There was a potentially deadly tropical disease transmitted by the Aedes aegypti mosquito…

Okay, so maybe it doesn’t make for the catchiest children’s song, but dengue is the hot topic right now in Nicaragua. The disease, caused by four related strains of virus (meaning that you have the opportunity to experience dengue up to four separate times!), lasts 2 to 7 days. Symptoms include high fever; chills; nausea and vomiting; headache and pain behind the eyes; muscular, joint, and bone pain; and loss of appetite. Enough to make anyone miserable to be sure, but dengue comes with the frightening possible bonus of becoming hemorrhagic, resulting in internal bleeding, respiratory difficulties, or/and shock. No vaccine currently exists for dengue, nor do medicines to treat the illness (outside of acetaminophen, which is only to manage the fever and pain. And a word of advice for all those who may contract dengue, presently or in the future: do NOT use aspirin or other non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, as they will lead to complications).

Cases of dengue are popping up all over the country, throwing the Ministry of Health into a state of emergency. Prevention of the disease largely depends on behavioral and environmental change, so daily outings are being made into the communities in order to provide information and education to the residents. Additionally, larvacide is being applied to all receptacles containing water not meant for consumption. Finally, homes and public buildings are being systematically fumigated inside and out.  These are all excellent steps toward curbing the rate of infection in Nicaragua, and I applaud MINSA’s efforts to act quickly with regard to this public health threat. However, if I could offer one piece of advice to improve the process, it would be this: check to make sure that all people have cleared an area before you begin to spray your toxic chemicals. Not only is it mildly terrifying to suddenly find yourself in an opaque white cloud of noxious gas, it will also most likely leave you incapacitated for the rest of the day due to the feelings of nausea, lightheadedness, and dizziness that you will experience (let’s not even think about the possible long term damage to your body that such chemicals may cause).

 

Words of the week: zancudo – mosquito; pila – basin (a larger cement water receptacle); mareo – dizziness

Finally

I apologize for my absence. These past few weeks have been busy, and I’ve had little time to sit down at a computer and type an update for you all. At this point, providing a detailed account of my activities would most likely be impossible, so I’ll just stick with the highlights, which will be painful enough for you all (and will probably end up sounding a bit like I’m working for the Nicaraguan Tourist Board in parts. For the record, they’d be lucky to have me.):

Irish encounters: When my poor friend came down with a nasty case of MRSA and landed herself in the hospital in Managua, I temporarily took over her duties as translator and event planner for a group of Irish university students. Every year, a group of volunteers from University College Dublin come to Madriz to spend four weeks working on various community development projects. The projects are developed and coordinated by local Nicaraguan NGOs; UCD provides funding and manpower. Due to a signed agreement between former Peace Corps Director George Baldino and the University, a volunteer stationed in Somoto works as a local consultant for project development and planning, as UCD´s in-country contact, providing translation and logistical planning services.

My friend spent several months on the front-end work, only to become sick as the plans were finally coming to fruition. Consequently, I did not have to do much other than be present when requested. While this technically qualified as “work,” my activities rarely felt like that. One weekend, I accompanied the group to Esteli. In exchange for translating for them and coordinating travel and meals during their day trip, I was able to tour a cigar factory and try one of Esteli´s best restaurants. The next weekend, I was given a similar deal for two day trip to Masaya, Granada, and the Laguna de Apoyo.  Not only did I have the pleasure of spending time with a fun group of people, I also had the opportunity to explore a bit more of Nicaragua.

Takeaways:

The process of creating a single cigar, from start to finish, takes nearly a year. Tobacco is grown and harvested, then dried in large barns. The leaves are brought to factories, where they are individually inspected and sorted based on thickness, color, smell, and aesthetic desirability. All leaves selected for use then undergo further processing before they are deveined by hand with a sharp knife and assembled into the final product. Nicaragua produces millions of hand-rolled, high-quality cigars yearly. However, nearly all of these cigars are exported to an international market. Cigar smoking hasn´t, for the most part, caught on in Nicaragua.

To anyone who is traveling to or through Esteli: I suggest you take the time to eat a meal at La Casita. Their offerings are simple, healthy, and tasty; never underestimate the amazingness of freshly baked whole grain bread with homemade fruit preserves. Or natural yogurt with ripe seasonal fruits. Or delicately spiced hot chocolate.

The city of Masaya is known for leather, ceramic decorations, ornamental plants, hammocks, and baho – a dish I believe I´ve already mentioned, and thoroughly enjoy. A bit like the Nicaraguan version of our pot roast or brisket, baho is beef, marinated and slow cooked in a giant pot lined with banana leaves with yucca, ripe plantains, peppers, tomatoes, and onions.

Many of the cities in Nicaragua that I´ve visited thus far have similar shopping and dining options and a similar look and feel. Granada, however, breaks the mold. Dignified colonial architecture; horse-drawn carriages; book stores and clothing boutiques; and restaurants offering Italian pasta dishes, hummus, fluffy pecan pancakes, spinach salads, bagels, cheesecake, gelato, and cappuccino. Unfortunately, the prices also break the mold. Granada is a wonderful place to visit as a tourist, but can be inaccessible for the average Nicaraguan (or the average Peace Corps volunteer).

If you’d like to spend a relaxing day swimming in a clean, freshwater lake, I highly suggest the Laguna de Apoyo. The lake is in what appears to be a crater, and surrounded on all sides by lush forest. There are several establishments that offer direct lake access if you are spending the night, purchasing a meal, or are willing to pay an entrance fee. I can personally recommend La Abuela, a hotel and restaurant. They have a multi-level dock with lounge chairs and porch swings, as well as an off-shore sunbathing platform and water equipment rentals. Their food, while a bit pricier, is fresh, flavorful, and healthy.

Tongue Tied and Brain Dead: A week was spent suffering through a second round of intensive language training. Actually, the four day session proved to be very useful, as many of my lingering questions regarding the grammatical structure of the language were answered. It also provided an opportunity to get to know Masatepe, as I was placed in a current trainee´s home for the duration of the training.

Takeaways:

I finally learned about “vos” (informal or familiar “you”). “Vos” was never covered in my past Spanish classes, despite it being regularly used in certain parts of the Spanish-speaking world. Thus, it remained a relatively elusive concept until now. It’s still easier and often more appropriate to use the formal “you” (usted), but I would like to start practicing with “vos” so that I can eventually incorporate it comfortably into my speaking.

Also, I now have a firmer grasp on the proper construction and use of the subjunctive. You cannot believe how handy this is; with one grammatical structure I can give suggestions (or make demands); complain about present or past circumstances; voice opinions, regrets, and desires; form hypotheses; and make excuses!

I am grateful to Peace Corps for their decision to place me with my particular host family during my training. My temporary home in Masatepe in many ways could be seen by an outsider as “better.” The house itself was more than twice the size; the bedroom large and well-lit. The amenities were numerous: multiple bathrooms, at least a dozen televisions and an extensive cable package, Wi-Fi, a washing machine, a microwave, and a pool. But this home, though beautiful, is hardly representative of how the majority of Nicaraguans (and Peace Corps volunteers) live. I also cannot emphasize enough how crucial it was for me to have such an open, loving, and available family during my training. My host family was always around, willing to share their experiences and knowledge of their country. They were patient with me as I stumbled through conversations, correcting my mistakes and teaching me new vocabulary. They taught me about typical Nicaraguan foods, how to manage without water, and how to hand wash my clothing. The family I lived with in Masatepe, while friendly, was rarely home. There was a small team of employees who did all of the cooking and cleaning. In short, the thought of trying to transition from this home in Masatepe to my current living situation is, to me, terrifying. I think I would have been wholly unprepared to deal with my volunteer reality – I was unprepared enough as it was!

While Northern Nicaragua knows how to make a mean rosquilla and rosquete, every other type of bread, biscuit, or pastry product is better down south. Oh pan dulce de Carazo, how I miss thee!

Rabies and Revolution: The week I returned to site began with visits to some of the more inaccessible communities in my municipality, vaccinating dogs against rabies. It ended with a long weekend of little activity, due to the country’s celebration of the Sandinista Revolution.

Takeaways:

Outside of the controlled environment of a veterinary office, vaccinating dogs can be a frightening experience. Owners are often forced to tie their furry companion’s head to the nearest tree or post to prevent the doctor or some other bystander from being bitten as a member of the medical team (none of which are trained in veterinary practice) jabs a large needle into its thigh.

Nicaragua’s Ministry of Health is pretty serious about preventing rabies. Doctors are told to relay the message to all dog owners that a failure to have their pet vaccinated regularly and/or failure to provide proof of vaccination will result in the removal of their pet’s head (in order to test for rabies, a sample of brain tissue is needed).

If you find yourself wanting to celebrate the Sandanista revolution with your fellow Nicaraguans on July 19, Managua is the place to do it. There are parades, dances, music, and an appearance by the president. You can even get there and back for free, courtesy of the Nicaraguan government, provided that you don’t mind spending up to half of your day smashed and sweating inside an old school bus with your fellow countrymen.

Programmatic Panic and Gardening, A New Hope: At any given time, the staff at my health center are feverishly working to complete the month’s required activities for half a dozen different programs, initiatives, and strategies. Within a single visit to a community last week, I visited children under 6 and their mothers, and patients with mental and/or physical disabilities. I gave presentations about chagas disease to elementary school children and a group of adults gathered together by the local community health promoter. I even visited several houses within the community to assess environmental cleanliness and to provide bleach and larvacide for their water supplies. Talk about multi-tasking!

Later in the week, I worked with a nearby volunteer from the agricultural sector to start the development of a small vegetable garden for my casa materna. I dreamed up this project after realizing that the women staying in the casa materna are only guaranteed beans, oil, sugar, and some type of carbohydrate (rice, pasta, oatmeal, or tortilla) – hardly satisfying the full nutritional needs of a pregnant woman and her fetus. One previous attempt had been made last month to get this project off the ground. I won’t go into the details regarding how spectacular of a failure this attempt was; I will only say that it made me realize how little I know about agriculture and gardening. This time around, we were properly prepared and managed to take a big step forward by building a “banco” – a raised bed for planters. With luck, the next step (filling the planters and planting the seeds) will be completed by the end of this coming week. Wish me luck!

Takeaways:

I really need to learn how to use a machete properly.

Phew! I think we’re finally caught up. Thanks for sticking it out!

Chagas Disease: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Chaos

At the beginning of every aspiring Peace Corps volunteer´s training, there is a period of time in which the staff provide an overwhelming amount of information about life in service, rules and regulations, the host country, and potentially relevant health concerns such as injuries and illnesses. This orientation may leave the volunteer-to-be confused, distressed, and/or exhausted; inevitably, the majority of the information will not be absorbed at this time and must be relearned later.

My introduction to Chagas was in the volunteer medical handbook, distributed during this orientation period. I vaguely remember experiencing a moment of horror as I skimmed the two page description of the disease, but I was too generally overwhelmed at the time to dwell on it. I paid much more attention the second time around, when I read article about Chagas in our volunteer newsletter.

Chagas has been endemic throughout Latin America for more than 100 years. It affects 10 to 12 million people and kills more than 15,000 each year. There is a substantial body of knowledge on the life cycle of the parasite (Trypanosoma cruzi) and vector (insects of the family Triatoma); we know how to identify and treat the disease, as well as how to prevent (or at the very least, control) it.

So…why had I never heard of Chagas before coming to Nicaragua?

Because Chagas is a disease of the poor. It rarely is found in so-called “first world” or “developed countries.” Celebrities and politicians do not become champions of Chagas elimination. Pharmaceutical companies do not invest significant resources in developing new treatment methods or vaccines.

Chagas is also a silent disease. The initial phase in which symptoms (fever and chills, loss of appetite, headache, tiredness, and painless swelling of the site of entry) may present only lasts 30 to 60 days. After this acute phase, the infected individual spends years living asymptomatically, while the parasite causes extensive damage to the circulatory system, digestive system, and nervous system.

Anyway, back to the newsletter.

The article outlined a Chagas prevention campaign that focused on community-wide bug hunts. Primary school students are given basic information about Chagas disease, and are taught how to identify and collect the insects that transmit the parasite. Collected insects are brought to the local health centers, where they are tested for the presence of the parasite. In this way, health professionals can identify and treat infected community members, and prioritize communities for activities such as health education and fumigation.

Chagas frightened me, and the campaign sounded like an interesting activity, so I decided to implement it in my community. I wrote up extensive plans, spoke with my health director to organize activities, and spoke with the local school delegate to receive permission to work in the schools. I scheduled trainings for the community health workers and presentations in the local schools. I hounded MINSA and SILAIS for materials to use, and developed my presentation. Finally, after several weeks of preparation, I was ready.

And then reality set in. Programmed trips out to the community were canceled at the last moment.  Community health workers did not show up to scheduled trainings. Schools were closed for teachers’ meetings, local holidays, or other reasons that I have yet to discover. After a month, I had accomplished very little and was left feeling extremely frustrated and cynical. How was I ever going to get this campaign off the ground? Why couldn’t anything work out as planned? Was I doomed to failure in all of my work efforts?

So I took a step back. I talked with other volunteers, and I did a lot of thinking. Finally, I let go of my anger and impatience. I made a new, more realistic plan and managed to implement it with relative success in a three week period. The future of this project suddenly looks a little bit brighter, although I don’t think it will ever match what I had originally envisioned.

I’m okay with that.

Lessons learned:

1. Don’t try to go it alone. The chances for success and sustainability improve greatly when your counterparts are involved and invested from start to finish.

2. Counterparts unwilling or uninterested in collaborating with you? Try to figure out why. It may be that you haven’t identified the right people for the project. However, you may also come to find that the project itself isn’t right for the community. Your ideas of what is good and necessary may not match those of your community, and ultimately your community’s opinion will determine the success of the project.

3. Flexibility is key. So is creativity. Have a plan B. and a plan C.

4. Make sure that any plan (whether it be A, B, or C) is realistic. Don’t try to do everything at once, or set goals that are impossible to obtain. It can sometimes be helpful to do a small “test run” to get a better idea of your plan’s feasibility and chances for success before expending a lot of time, energy, and resources.

5. Learn from your mistakes, and accept that there are some things that you simply cannot predict or control.

At this point I feel it necessary to confess that I have not completely stopped worrying. I still have my moments of pessimism and frustration, and I am not sure if I will every be able to fully embrace chaos and just go with the flow. But I’m getting better, paso por paso.

Words of the Week: Fracaso – failure. Éxito – success.