I Hate Mondongo

There. I said it. Whew! Feels good to get that off my chest.

When you join Peace Corps, you are signing on to live in a foreign country for over two years. You are agreeing to adapt to a new culture; to respect the customs and traditions of your assigned community; and to remain, at the very least, open-minded when encountering local norms that vary from your own. Living in your assigned community, you may start to worry that, in order to properly integrate, you will need to give up who you are – cast aside or hide that which makes you you – in order to be accepted by your neighbors, coworkers, and host family. You may question when to conform, when to reject, and when to tread the line by maintaining your own values while incorporating aspects of the host culture (becoming “bicultural,” so to speak).

After fifteen months of living in Nicaragua, I’ve made some adjustments – picked up some mannerisms, altered some speech patterns, radically changed my diet (to the detriment of my waistline), found new interests and hobbies, developed a taste for country music and reggae. I’ve become a little more patient. A little more willing to sacrifice privacy and personal space. A little more tolerant of noise, dirt, bugs, and chaos. And I think that the people of Pearl Lagoon are coming to know me, accept me, and trust me.

But there are some things I just can’t adjust to. One of them is mondongo: a traditional soup made with the intestines, stomach, and feet of pigs. At its best, I find the soup to be greasy and uninteresting. At its worst, even the smell makes me queasy. The problem is, nearly all of the members of my host family love mondongo, and we eat our meals together. As it is in many other cultures, a woman’s self-worth is, in part, based on her ability to cook and to feed her loved ones. Refusing an offering of food can be seen as a rejection of the cook herself. So, in order to avoid insulting or hurting any feelings, I would eat small amounts of the mondongo each time it was made, begging off a larger portion due to lack of appetite.

That is, until yesterday, when I walked into the house for lunch and was olfactorily assaulted by the smell of boiling pork intestine. I decided then and there: I couldn’t keep living a lie. I needed to tell my family of my mondongo aversion. Sheepishly, I confessed. And you know what? It went well. My relationships with my host family members are strong enough now that there was no offense taken (especially because they know how much I enjoy all the other food they cook). They were only sorry they hadn’t known sooner. So, while everyone else dined on mondongo yesterday, I had a big bowl of beans and plantain.

This is just a small illustration of what I’ve been realizing of late: though I may adopt elements of the local culture, it will never truly be my culture. I will never be a full-fledged Laguneña, because I will always be American, for better or for worse. But that’s okay. No one here wishes me to be something other than myself. Their only true expectation is that I remain respectful of their way of life, regardless of whether or not I personally choose to embrace it.

And, truth be told, there are plenty of native Nicaraguans that don’t like mondongo either.

Words of the Week: cambiar – to change; aguantar – to endure, put up with, withstand

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Learning a new language is a daunting task. Learning two simultaneously is downright frightening. My current speech pattern is a horrendous mixture of American English, Nicaraguan Spanish, and Creole English. It makes me feel linguistically incompetent, but poco a poco it goin get betta, right?

For your enjoyment and enlightenment, I present you with a sample of what I’ve picked up over the last three and a half months. To be clear, what I’m talking about here is Creole English, not the true Creole that some (especially those from the older generations) speak. Many of the words are a direct translation from Spanish, as is the grammatical structure. The true coastal Creole is much more of a departure from my mother tongue, and therefore much harder (and sometimes impossible) for me to understand.

Belong – Used to discuss or identify place of birth (“I belong Detroit”)

Big Belly Woman – Pregnant Woman

Boonka/Boonky – Butt

Clide – Tired/sick of

Cut off – Turn off

Eibo – Almond

Moi – Term of endearment for small children

Pear – Avocado

Pinda – Peanut

Pine – Pineapple

Poonka – Fart

Punch – Strike out (baseball)

Reach – Arrive

Spring Chicken – Frog

Stay – Used to discuss where one is living currently (“I stay Pearl Lagoon”)

Strike – Inject

I continue to struggle with the proper use of pronouns, verb conjugations, question construction, and overall pronunciation, but I’m having fun (which is important too, right?) learning. And when all else fails, I can fall back on my intermediate (though quickly deteriorating) level Spanish. Or speak American English veeerrryyy sloooowly.

Happy Anniversary

…to me! I’ve officially completed one year of service today (NOT April fools!). This past year has been one of small triumphs; big disappointments; moments of joy, frustration, and sadness; self-reflection; and lessons learned. My site change dramatically altered my course of service; it has provided new opportunities, but in many ways it put me back at the beginning. So while technically I am now officially halfway done with my service, I feel like I’m only three months in. There are new friendships to form, new working relationships to establish and grow, new work plans to develop and implement, a new language to learn, and a new culture to adapt to. It’s exhausting, yet exhilarating.

While there are times I still question the wisdom of my decision to pack up my life in the states and join the Peace Corps, overall I’m glad I did. As most returned Peace Corps volunteers will tell you, what makes this experience so worthwhile is not necessarily the work-related activities you will complete during your two years of service, but rather the relationships you will build, the places you will visit, the food you will eat, the music you will listen to, and the all of the everyday occurrences and special events you will witness and take part in as you become integrated into your community. I’m guessing I’ve already changed quite a bit since my arrival in Nicaragua, and no doubt I will change even more by the time I complete my two years of service. Physical wear and tear aside, I hope that these changes have been for the good.

PS – A very happy birthday (tomorrow) to two amazing women in my life: my grandmother, Margaret, and my godmother, Marty!  ¡Felíz cumpleaños, abuelita y madrina!

Word of the week: cambiar – to change

Nicaragua + Baseball = Love

No joke. Nicaragua loves its baseball. There are regular articles in the newspaper about American teams with players from Nicaragua. Nicaraguans, upon discovering where I am from, will often say “Los Tigres!” or will ask me if I like the Red Sox and/or the Yankees.  The baseball field or stadium is often used as a reference point when giving directions. And baseball is played year-round in nearly every community, by children and adults alike. The passion with which the community follows its local teams rivals, or sometimes even exceeds, that which it has for the professional departmental teams.

When you stop to think about it, baseball is a great sport for a place like Nicaragua. The basic requirements for a game of baseball are simple: a bat, a ball, and a relatively flat patch of land to run around on. Everything else – the uniforms, the fancy stadium with lights and sound equipment, the food stands – is nice, but not necessary. While a player must have some degree of skill to be good at the game, one does not need extreme height, strength, or athleticism. The game itself seems well-suited to Nicaraguan culture as well: with no fixed periods of play time, a baseball game can stretch on for a whole afternoon and into the evening.

Baseball fever is certainly upon Pearl Lagoon, and it’s hard not to get caught up in it all. This year, Pearl Lagoon is hosting the 62^nd annual Atlantic Coast Baseball Series, an honor that is bestowed upon a community at most once a decade. Fourteen nonprofessional teams from coastal communities of the RAAS and RAAN (the Northern and Southern Autonomous Regions of Nicaragua) have descended upon Pearl Lagoon (along with approximately 6,000 of their fans) for two packed weeks of games, leading up to Holy Week. There has been a flurry of preparations in the past few months, including finishing the construction of a new stadium (a project 10 years in the making, with many stops and starts along the way due to mismanagement of funds), adding rooms onto hotels, stocking up on supplies, picking up trash and cutting grass, and buying fancy new outfits to wear when attending a game. A reggae song was even written especially for the series this year (and can now be heard at least 30 times a day).

We are now more than a week into the games, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…I’ve started to really enjoy baseball. Not in the way I enjoyed baseball at home, where the focus was more on the food, drink and company; here in Nicaragua, I actually pay attention to the GAME. I want to be there from start to finish; I sit amongst the other fans in the uncomfortable, dirty cement stands for hours to support the Pearl Lagoon team (which, by the well, may very well be this year’s series winner). When people are cheering around me, I not only know why they’re cheering, but I’m right there cheering along with them. And when I’m too tired to make it to the stadium, I’ll listen to the games at home with my host family on a small battery-powered radio.

I know. I’m pretty surprised too. It took moving to Nicaragua to learn to appreciate America’s pastime.

In case you’re wondering, while popcorn (with real butter!) and peanuts are available for purchase, there are no crackerjacks to be found. Nor are there hot dogs, French fries, or nachos. Instead, you can snack on fried chicken with fried plantain chips and cabbage salad, fresh mango slices with salt and chile (a chili-infused vinegar), or quesillo (a piece of mozzarella-like cheese, vinegar-soaked onions, and crema, all wrapped in a fresh, warm corn tortilla). And yes, there is beer (though only Toña is available).

Words of the week:

Beisbol – baseball

Estadio – stadium

Jugar – to play

Pichear – to pitch

Jugador - player

Fanático – fan

GUEST POST: My Christmas Break in Nicaragua and what I learned

Hello friends and loved ones! Today's post comes from my lovely friend Liz, who spent a little more than a week of her holiday season relaxing with me on the beaches of Little Corn Island, off the Atlantic coast of Nicaragua. It was wonderful to be able to see her (and equally great to then be able to dump the responsibility of writing the next blog post on her!). So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with Liz's thoughts on her time in Nicaragua:

Coconut Water vs. Coconut Milk

There are 2 types of coconuts in Nica: the green and the brown hairy. As I’m no expert on things coconut, there could be many more in the world, but the existence of 2 separate and equally yummy varieties was happy happy news to me. First, we have the green coconuts. These seemed to grow on the majority of palm trees we encountered. On day 1 in Little Corn Island, our host delivered primed-for-eating green coconuts to our porch while we hung out in our rocking chairs. Primed means he used a machete to remove the green skin from one end of the coconut, leaving a small hole thinly covered in the white flesh. We poked through this flesh with a spoon and proceeded to drink coconut water from the green nut. As we drank, we used the spoon to scrape along the inner white flesh and eat it. These green coconuts have more water than their hairy brown cousins.  The water is delightfully refreshing, and this coconut makes an excellent cocktail by adding rum to the water and drinking with a straw.

The hairy brown nuts have less water as well has a much thicker flesh and outer shell. While the green is a thick skin, the hairy part of the brown nuts is actually a very thick, very dense shell. It must be cracked (with a machete, of course) in order to reveal the round, smooth brown nut inside. These were delivered to us as we lounged on the beach, and then our host used his machete (my FIRST machete sighting, so excellent), to WHACK, WHACK, WHACK a triangle-shaped chunk from the top. In this case we drank from the nut and then ate the entire thin brown coating (think peanut with shell, brown skin, and nut) and fleshy white bits. This hairy brown nut is the source for coconut milk, a much richer flavor than coconut water. The flesh is shredded to create the milky goodness.

Rocking chair or hammock?

What’s your seating pleasure? During our adventure, each destination kindly provided rocking chairs, hammocks, or both. Hammocks are especially common everywhere we wandered. Many people were lounging in yards or front porches in uber-colorful comfy hammocks. When tropical rains held us hostage for 24 hours, we were quite content to pass the time on our porch in…you guessed it…rocking chairs and hammocks. And lest you be confusing “tropical rain” for warm or lightly falling drizzle, let me correct you. This was no less than a chilly deluge.

Roosters don’t crow at dawn

People writing cartoons and movies have lied to us for years. These people have never been to farms or spent ANY time around real roosters. If they had, there would be none of this nonsense where roosters crow at dawn to announce the day. Oh no. Roosters announce the day all day. And they announce the night ALL NIGHT. They crow. They crow in the rain. They crow in the sun. They crow under your floor where they’ve nested. They crow near your porch with their harem. They just CROW.  And speaking of harems, I have come to understand how roosters and cocks are synonymous. Our farm had multiple cocks. Each had a harem of hens following them around the yard. I witnessed one brave or foolhardy rooster wandering into another’s harem. This was met with aggressive squawking and posturing. He quickly moved along back to his hens. I can now imagine why cock fighting requires little more than putting 2 roosters in close proximity.

Monkey lips and nose scrunching

Nica natives are adept at 2 subtle and functional gestures. If you’d like someone to look in a particular direction, simply purse your lips and point them towards the person or thing you want your companion to view. I dubbed this “monkey lips” as it closely resembles the lip action of an orangutan. It’s super effective and simultaneously hilarious. Far more subtle than the American finger pointing and far more entertaining to observe.

If someone doesn’t understand you or didn’t hear what you said, he or she may scrunch their nose at you a la Bewitched. You have to be alert to this, because missing the gesture can result in a halt of conversation. Literally, dead stop as they wait for you to explain or repeat yourself.

For those wondering, our lovely Sara is fluent in both of these methods of communicating. Anticipate seeing them upon her return to the States. Guaranteed.

Protect your skin

You THINK you know about sunscreen. You THINK you know about mosquitos. You don’t know. You don’t know that the sun rises between 5/6am and sets between 5/6pm every day. This means you don’t leave the safety of your room without slathering on sunscreen or bug spray or both (hello, early hour sun and bugginess).  I quickly discovered this news. I wisely packed not only a brand new sunscreen, but TWO bottles of 100% DDT bug repellent. Don’t mess around with those crazy bugs. They will eat you alive. Despite my planning, I managed a light sunburn when I made the mistake of putting sunscreen on only my face and shoulders for a 40 minute walk to the village. Three hours later, my arms and neck were toasty. As for bug repellent, it was the last step after each end of beach day shower.  Make no mistake, forgetting to spray or missing any piece of exposed skin leaves you open to attack. Take the offense!

Mosquito nets, no touching

I was excited about mosquito nets. Was I excited about the need for netting? Of course not. But I admit to a strange fascination with the things since the first time I heard about these things. How would you use it? Is it suspended from a ceiling? Do all beds have a canopy? Or is this something you just somehow drape over your body? And what about the bottom? How could you possibly keep the little suckers from just sneaking under the bottom of the net? My years of curiosity would FINALLY be answered.

Turns out, mosquito nets come in various weights and suspensions. They are most definitely needed in any bedroom that doesn’t have tightly sealed windows and doors. Even in one location with air conditioning, the beds came equipped. They’re suspended over the beds in any way possible. Sometimes one central spot and draped out like a teepee. Some hang over canopies or ropes. ALL are useful. They must be tucked under the mattress around the entire circumference of the bed. You then wiggle under the small area you left un-tucked for the purpose of getting into bed. You must then tuck the rest of the netting under the mattress. Voila! You are in your net fortress. Things to know once you’re in: 1. Bathroom runs in the middle of the night are difficult to accomplish and 2. DON’T touch the net. Number 2 had me freaked out on night 1. I was constantly afraid of rolling up against the net or pressing my exposed feet to it. See, these clever bugs know they can’t get to you, but press yourself against the net? Midnight snack.

Pitch black…you don’t know what it means

I have never, in my not too long life, known darkness like this. Perhaps if you sleep in a room with no windows or electronics, you can imagine this level of darkness. No ambient light. None. Zero. Your eyes don’t adjust to the dark as you lie in bed; there’s no adjusting to pitch black. And wandering outside? We had one evening trek in the absolute black at 7pm on a cloudy/rainy night. Having no flashlights, we resorted to cell phone screens to light the way. It’s amazing how much light those throw off in a place with no other light source. On a night when the moon was nearly full, it lit the sky.

It’s “fresco” not “fresca”

My Spanish is lame. Sara corrected me occasionally for misusing words I thought I heard a certain way. One such problem was frescos. These delicious drinks are fruit juice. They are the BEST FRUIT JUICE EVAH. When I ordered a watermelon or pine fresco, someone  took a piece of fruit and tossed it in a blender. It arrived on the table in a glass with a straw. Did they blend with ice? Who could say? It certainly didn’t taste icey. It tasted AHMAZING. Fresh blended goodness that has no equal, in my opinion. At less than $2 a drink, we had them daily…or twice a day.

Rundon, pronounced run-down, spelled however you like

Our Christmas Eve dinner near the reggae bar was on a pier with an open fire. On this fire, in a cast iron pot cooked our dinner. Rundon is a coastal dish made by tossing all fresh vegetables and fish in a pot with some coconut milk. Our host made it with potatoes, plantains, cassava, shrimp, and whole fish. It’s served in a rounded dish with the broth. We enjoyed this muchly with some green coconut cocktail drinks and other travelers.

Christmas in warm climes

New Jersey born and bred, this was the first Christmas I spent in a tropical climate. It was AWESOME. Oh you may wonder, what would I do without frosty mornings and pine trees? Never fear. Days spent stretched on the sand with palm trees and rum drinks will quickly cure any qualms. Trust me.

Advice for Visitors

With only a little over a week before the highly anticipated arrival of a good friend, I thought I might share some advice for those thinking of visiting Nicaragua for the first time:

Do not expect people to speak or understand English. Nicaragua has not yet become a vacation destination on par with Costa Rica or Panama, even though it may rival its neighbors in its offerings of natural beauty. Therefore, less emphasis has been placed on the inhabitants learning English sufficiently to cater to a tourist crowd. All children who attend high school receive English language classes, but as those who have taken foreign language classes probably know, it can be very difficult to learn a language when one has only one and a half to two hours weekly of study and practice. There are, however, a few places in Nicaragua in which one is more likely to encounter an English speaker: Managua, Leon, Esteli, Matagalpa, Granada, and San Juan del Sur. And of course, there is the Atlantic coast – Bluefields, Pearl Lagoon, and the Corn Islands – where Creole English is prevalent.

Before you travel, you may want to learn a few key phrases:

¿Dónde está el baño? – Where is the bathroom?

¿Podría llevarme… - Could you take me…

                  Al aeropuerto? – the airport?

                  Al hotel _______? – the hotel (name)?

                  Al restaurante ________? – the restaurant (name)?

¿Podría tener…? – Could I have (item on menu…etc)?

La cuenta por favor – The check please

Bring along a Nicaragua guidebook so that you can point to words if needed…or travel with a friend who knows Spanish!

Do not necessarily expect people to understand your Spanish either. Many Nicaraguans have not been exposed to Spanish speakers with accents different than their own. Therefore, if you learned Mexican Spanish or Argentinean Spanish, you may find yourself getting a lot of blank or confused stares, even if you are speaking correctly. Have patience. You’ll probably be able to get your point across after the third or fourth repetition.

Do you research: If using public transportation, try to find out the schedule of departures and cost before you set out. In some cases, there are limited options for getting from one place to another, and buses, unlike most things in Nicaragua, actually run on a rather strict schedule and depart on-time. It’s best to know so that you can get to the bus stop or station early – an hour before should be sufficient to reserve a seat or, at the very least, a spot in line.

The cost issue with buses, but in the case of taxis, many drivers will try to take advantage of the ignorance of travelers and charge higher fares. You may be able to bargain with the driver to get a lower price, or you may need to say “ah, gracias…” and move on to the next taxi. An important note about Managua: try not to take just any public taxi, as there have been “express kidnaps” in which unsuspecting travelers are essentially held hostage and robbed once inside the taxi, then dropped off in a random (and often dangerous) neighborhood. Arrange rides with the assistance of a concierge, host, or other appropriate staff member.

The food will probably not be what you expected. Reading my blog will probably have prepared you somewhat, but you need to know that you will not be eating the Mexican food of the United States. First of all, seemingly familiar menu items are deceptive. For example, tacos here are more like flautas in the states – shredded meat is wrapped in a corn tortilla and fried, then topped with cabbage salad, mayonnaise, and ketchup. You never know what you’ll get when you order a hamburger: some are made with beef, others with soy meat, and sometimes you’ll end up with a chicken patty reminiscent of your school cafeteria days. Most places that make pizza produce something like that out of the freezer section of your local grocery store. And “crema,” while often having the look and consistency of cream, does NOT taste like cream but rather more like sour cream. Good to splash on top of your beans, but not in your coffee!

Also, the flavors will probably be different. Nicaraguans, in general, do not enjoy spicy foods. Most food is flavored only with onion, salt, garlic, vinegar, and/or lime juice. Some dishes also incorporate cilantro, basil, mint, or orange juice. On the Atlantic coast, you’ll find coconut milk or cream in many food items. If you want to make your food más picante, ask for hot sauce (salsa picante) or chile (hot peppers, onions, and occasionally vegetables such as carrots, soaking in vinegar and/or lime juice). Nicaraguans do, however, like their sugar. Natural juices will have a large amount of sugar, as will coffee, smoothies, and most other beverages. You’ll probably be out of luck when it comes to the juice (and depending on the place, the coffee too), but if you’d like less sugar, ask for your beverage to be prepared “sin azucar” (without sugar) or “con poco azucar” (with little sugar).

Foods that are less likely to disappoint or confuse include grilled meats, rice and beans, fried chicken, homemade chips (plantain, yucca, malanga, or potato), smoothies and milkshakes (licuados and batidos), hot dogs, and fresh fruits.

Some food should be avoided. You should probably stick to bottled beverages while traveling. As good as those bagged frescos may look as they’re waved in front of you by the elderly lady or little boy on the bus, skip them – the ice may have been made with unclean water, or the block could have been dragged through the gutter before being chopped up and put in your drink. You may also want to avoid the ceviche by the side of the road when you’re nowhere near the ocean. You can try to be smart about what you eat on the street, but unless you stick to chatarra (pre-packaged snacks and bottled soft drinks), there’s always a chance that something might make you sick. At some point you’ll need to decide whether or not you want to take the risk in order to enjoy some of Nicaragua’s finer food offerings.

Lodging can be confusing. Some places require a reservation, although unless it’s high season it’s usually possible to reserve a room up to a day or two before. Some places do not take reservations. Some take reservations but then ignore them. Some require a deposit (but many will not take credit cards), some require up-front payment, and some will have you pay when you check out. You may pay by the room, or by the person. Amenities like towels, soap, breakfast, fans, hot water, and daily cleaning of the rooms varies greatly. It’s best to do a bit of research before you go – look at reviews, ask around. In most places, you’ll have a few options to choose from, and at least one will be decent to nice. Cheap doesn’t necessarily mean bad, nor does expensive mean good (or significantly better than the cheaper or mid-range options). Stay away from auto-motels.

Throw all used toilet paper in the waste basket provided next to the toilet. No one likes a flooding toilet. Exceptions may be made in the case of latrines (though some may still require that you place paper in a separate receptacle so as not to fill the latrine as quickly) and in some hotels (a good indicator is a lack of receptacle in the restroom).

Use your mosquito net. If one is being provided, there is a reason. Not only are mosquitoes annoying, they also carry dengue and malaria (you may also want to invest in some good insect repellent). Plus, mosquito nets are good for protecting you from a variety of other nighttime visitors (best not to think about that much).

Bring earplugs and an eye mask if you are a light sleeper. Those who have lived here for a while do not notice the roosters, music, talking, and other noises outside, but you probably will. The sun rises early – never any later than 6:00 AM – and people often rise with it. Expect a light-filled room and people moving about (often noisily) outside of it quite early.

Plan your activities appropriately. Nicaragua is close to the equator. It is hot. Very few places in the country will be cool enough at mid-day to want to spend extended periods outside and active unless you are by or in the water. During the rainy season (June – November, September and October being the rainiest), you can expect nearly daily showers in the afternoon. They don’t last too long, but you’ll want to take cover when you see the storm coming because it rains hard. During late March, April, and May, it will be HOT. No matter where you are, you will probably be uncomfortable to miserable, especially at mid-day. All year round, you’ll have the early sunrise as mentioned above, and a sun-set around 5:30 – 6:00 pm.

Also be aware of major holidays and festivals. These events will give you an opportunity to experience local cultural traditions, but they will also limit your ability to travel.

Life is simpler. Outside of a few major cities, you will not find movie theaters, fancy restaurants or foreign food options, museums, shopping malls, boutiques, spas, concert venues or live music, book stores, or air-conditioning. What makes Nicaragua a good place to visit is not the “stuff” it has to sell you, but rather the friendliness of the people, the richness and beauty of the land, and the slow-moving, peaceful atmosphere. Take a deep breath, relax, and adjust your pace to a simpler existence.

Words of the week: Pasear – to pass time (equivalent to hanging out or enjoying free time); Extranjero - foreigner

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.