Juramentacion-ing

Well guys, it's been a long three months...think it's time to head home.

Just kidding. We graduate to full volunteerhood today!

Despite a terrible performance on my language interview, I managed to advance to the required level of fluency. I then learned (mostly) the Nicaraguan national anthem, made childlike thank you cards for my family and community members, and packed up my belongings. All that's left is a short drive to a hotel, where we will participate in a ceremony with 18 other aspirantes who have become my friends in the past few weeks, the Nicaraguan families that have taken care of us as if we were their own, and the fantastic staff of Peace Corps Nicaragua.

And yes, there will definitely be cake this time.

Congratulations Nica 58!

And I'm back!

I have returned from my site visit with excellent news: I rather like what will be my home for the next two years. What a relief!

The trip up north was rather arduous, what with the workers’ strikes and resulting roadblocks. Rather than using the four hour express bus, we were forced to detour around the lake, through Leon and Estelí, to reach Somoto, the department capital of Madriz. Although the trip was beautiful, the seven hours spent in buses left everyone a bit spent. Which is not the best state to be in when one is then thrown into a completely new living situation, with strangers, in an unknown city. I was completely overwhelmed: my site town was smaller than I’d imagined; my host family had a different manner of speaking than what I had grown accustomed to; and I immediately noticed the lack of indoor plumbing and gas stove. I gave up and went to bed at 7:45 pm.

Luckily, the next morning I awoke in a better frame of mind. It didn’t hurt that I was surrounded by incredible beauty – my site is surrounded by rugged hills, sprawling ranches, and farmland. The nearest city is charming and low-key, with sufficient shopping and dining options (I just need to make sure to leave prior to the last taxi home at 5:00 or 6:00 PM. No more wild nights for me…). I discovered the benefits of the latrine (no flushing required! This is a blessing in a place that only has running water for an hour or two each morning). I realized how fantastic food tastes when cooked on a wood burning stove. I found my health center to be relatively large and well-kept (and open on the weekend! Craziness!). And while I frequently failed to understand my new host family, I found them to be welcoming and patient with my frequent blunders and linguistic errors.

Over the next few days, I was introduced to some of the health professionals that I will be working with, as well as some of the rural communities that I will be visiting regularly. I learned more about the most pressing health issues, community needs, and available resources, and began to form some ideas with regard to my future work. I left my site at the end of the week feeling energized and optimistic.

That being said, I am quite happy to be back to the comfort of my training town. I missed my host family, my purple room, and (as strange as this might sound) the fancy new door on our bathroom. I cooked my family a breakfast of French toast this morning, and found myself wishing that I’d had more opportunities to repay in some small way the kindness they’ve showed me. I can’t imagine leaving permanently in only two weeks’ time. Where have the last two and a half months gone? What will I do without Doña Petrona’s kind words and vegetable-filled meals? Without freshly baked pan dulce and mandarinas? What will happen when I can no longer relax in a rocking chair on the expansive front porch and stare out past the flowering plants and lush greenery to the volcano in the distance? When I can no longer walk down the street to visit my fellow trainees? Why must I leave before the family dogs have their puppies (due in May)? Before the end of mango and avocado season? Before I’ve had a chance to fully explore the surrounding areas of Granada, Masaya, and Rivas? I’m about to leave for the mountains, and I haven’t even been to the beach!

I will have to take the bitter with the sweet, and move forward. This week we face our final language interviews, and begin preparations for our swearing in ceremony. Next week we pack up our lives and, with a brief stopover in Managua, transition to volunteer life. Wish me luck!

Nica words of the week: Huelga – strike; Tranque – road block. These two words were on everyone’s lips and in everyone’s minds the entire week. Will we be able to reach our sites? Will we be able to leave? (The answers were of course “yes” and “yes”).

Drum roll...

I'm headed to beautiful Madriz!

Of reptiles and site placement

Guess who's been eating a lot of iguana lately?

That would be me.

It's high iguana season here in Nicaragua, which means that people in the campo are harvesting as many of these suckers as possible, roasting them over open fires, pulling the meager meat off their bony frames, and mixing into a thick corn stew. It's pretty tasty. But for those of you that don't appreciate reptilian flesh-based dishes, it's also mango and avocado season.

T Minus one day until I know the name of my home for the next two years. I am not feeling overly worried about my fate, although that may change upon arrival to the reveal ceremony tomorrow afternoon. Right now, I just hope there's cake.

Last week

I have returned, triumphant but without photographic evidence (apologies – I didn’t have space in my bag for a camera), from my practicum week in Estelí. While I won’t bore you with the majority of the mundane details of the trip, I will say that after this week I have a slightly better sense of what life can be like as a volunteer. I learned:

• The hills of Estelí are beautiful even in the dry season, so I can only imagine what the landscape will look like when it begins to rain again.
• If you would like a fantastic pair of boots; fresh, fruit-filled yogurt; or delicious rosquitas (think windmill cookies, and you’ve come close to the taste), Estelí is the place to be.
• We take for granted the basic education we usually receive in the United States regarding nutrition, hygiene, and health. What we consider to be “common knowledge” really isn’t – not that we always put it to good use even if we possess it.
• Relationships are key. Want to have success in your service? Take all the time you need to first build trust, respect, and friendship with your colleagues as well as with the people you serve. Without these relationships, you are destined to fail.
• Flexibility is also key. Because things can and will change. Have a plan A. And a plan B. Maybe a plan C too. Also, understand that sometimes all the planning in the world will not save a situation. You will not be successful in everything you do, and you need to be able to accept that. Along the same lines, make sure to celebrate the small successes.
• Like fine wines, charlas get better with time (and practice).
• Unlike fine wines, latrines do not get better with time.
• Children love piñatas. However, when children mix with piñatas, it can end in injury. Always have excess candy to throw around the edges to avoid the otherwise inevitable trampling of the youngest and weakest of the herd.
• Billiards tournaments can be an excellent way to impart information on sensitive topics (such as HIV/AIDS) to an audience that would normally want nothing to do with you (such as a group of semi-drunk men).
• For all intents and purposes, there are only three songs in Nicaragua right now that do not feature Pitbull, LMFAO, or a washed-out American artist from the 1980s. These three songs are fantastic, but after the fifth repetition of the day they can start to be a bit tedious. For your entertainment, feel free to investigate them: Una Vaina Loca – Fuego; Lovumba (Solo SomosTu Y Yo) – Daddy Yankee; Ai Se Eu Te Pego - Michel Telo.

• I find clowns to be creepy, no matter what country they are from or what language they are speaking. Do not feed the clowns on busses. They will come back for more, and no one wants that.
• Service in the Peace Corps is what you make of it.

This weekend was equally exciting, with a site fair in Masaya and an unexpected trip to Granada. Masaya is a pretty, medium-sized city and a hot spot for artisanal fare from around the country. In the future I will need to return, as the main purpose of my visit was to learn more about the locations and work opportunities in my future site (wherever that may be).

My host family went to celebrate the first birthday of an extended family member, and they were kind enough to take me along. Granada is also beautiful, with a completely different atmosphere. While Masaya has tourists, Granada IS tourists. The center of the city is full of elegant hotels, grandiose churches, and public buildings in the Spanish colonial style. A short ride in a taxi or horse drawn carriage can take you to the beach, where you can stay until it grows dark…at which point you can walk across the street to one of the numerous clubs to dance until dawn. The trip was enough to get a taste of the city, but just like Masaya, I would love to return.

Now it’s back to the usual days filled with classes and technical sessions, but there is a greater sense of urgency now that we only have a few weeks left before our swearing in at the Embassy. It’s time to kick it into high gear, so that we might learn a few extra words that might help us survive once we are thrown from the safety of our training towns into the big, scary world of volunteerhood.

Nica phrase of the week: Así es la vida – That’s life. A good phrase to have on hand to make yourself feel better when things don’t go as planned… J

A slight amendment

That party I mentioned? You know, the one RIGHT outside of my house? It didn't end. When I left at 6:30 AM on Monday morning for practicum week, people were still gathered around, chatting, with no apparent desire to depart in search of say... a bed. The band continued on through the night, in fits of discordant tunes every 20 to 30 minutes. And let's not forget the bombas.

The streets were littered with banana leaves; remnants of the hundreds of nacatamales passed out to revelers during the night. The patron saint statue had somehow migrated to the bamboo structure erected outside to shelter the guests from the afternoon sun.

Nicaraguans know how to party. Nicaraguans also apparently get Mondays after patron saint festivals off.

Peace Corps aspirantes do not.

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”).