trabajo, tourismo, y pollitos

I’ve been writing my experiences and recording my thoughts for a few days now without internet, so apologies for the lengthiness of the post. Again, I’m writing as much as I can more so for my own sake than for that of the blog.

First of all, did I mention how much I love my roommate GennaFarr? Well she’s flippin’ amazzzing and she’s going to France this summer! It somehow slipped my mind as I was mentioning all of my wonderful friends going on international adventures in my very first post.

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There is another American, Micayla, who is volunteering with Viva Nicaragua for 2 weeks and with whom I’ve become friends. Micayla is a professional hairstylist in Boston, and after only having left he country once before in her life, she decided to see what she could learn and how she could help by taking off work and volunteering in Granada for 2 weeks. And since the other business we’re trying to jump-start besides piñatas is belleza (hairstyling), we’re incredibly luck to have her! She has been accompanying me to Valle de Granada and teaching a group of enthusiastic women how to properly cut hair. It just goes to show— it doesn’t matter what kind of preparation, experience, or skills that a person has; we as Americans and as human beings all have things to give and share, and we are doing our neighbors and the world a disservice if we withhold them.

The past several days Carrie and I have picked up Micayla from a local orphanage where she has been giving free hair cuts (both the girls and the nuns get especially excited to see her Chi straightener!). While waiting for Micayla to finish with the girls’ hair one afternoon, Carrie and I spoke with one of the nuns about their orphanage. Apparently the Ministero de la Familia is the governmental branch that oversees the orphanage, although the local Catholic Church runs it. The orphanage has been running into some political problems with keeping some of their girls because right now, it is the government’s position not to take children away from their families, even in violent or threatening situations. It was explained to me that the government sees violence and abuse as an outcome of poverty, and so they intend to address poverty and not violence.

Although perhaps well intentioned, I’m personally not seeing their reasoning. How can combating such a long-term problem as poverty can have any efficient and direct effect on the very immediate issue of domestic violence or sexual abuse, especially against children? Furthermore, I learned that a recent governmental project has revealed that the government’s ideal of “combating” poverty is offering to give a few houses away. Don’t even get me started on all of the social and economic problems that I see here…

Don’t take my word for it; draw your own conclusions.

The sisters at the orphanage have an obvious, great love for the children and a personal knowledge of their situation. I can only hope that in other places like Nicaragua, there are such genuinely concerned organizations and individuals— some to fight to bring about the longer-term bureaucratic and political solutions, and some to ceaselessly tend to those already suffering.

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On Thursday Carrie and I were supposed to have a “meeting” with Doña Sandra about the microempresa (the small business micro-lending piñata project), but when we arrived at the Spanish school which she runs, we were told that her husband, suffering from Parkinson’s, was having a difficult day and so she stayed in the community with him. Carrie informed me that I should get used to late meetings and cancellations of this sort. So I instead brought my laptop to a local café with wifi (pronounced “wee-fee” in Spanish) and began researching.

That afternoon I went down to Caracolitas, the community center in Valle de Granada, where I tried to get to know some of the women, their children, infants, various stray dogs, and anyone else running around the compound. After being sufficiently overwhelmed, Carrie and I sat down in some red and yellow painted mini-chairs (the community center holds preschool classes when a teacher can be found) in the corner of the open cement patio of Caracolitas as the tropical rain poured down around us. There we tried our best to roughly map out a plan of action, at least for the following week. It’s really hard to know how the women will react, how quickly they’ll learn, and how enthusiastic they’ll be about the project. I realized that there is actually very little that I can do. If these women don’t take ownership of their business and hold each other and themselves accountable, I will be able to offer very little to improve their situations. The more Carrie and I talked, the more we realized that this will be quite an experiment, and the more I approach this project with an intense desire for success and growing nerves and trepidation as well.

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One thing I learned Friday morning is that it is truly impossible to sleep past 6:30 or 7:00 am here. With my room partially open to the outside, sunlight floods everything at whatever hour it darn well wants to, regardless of my 9:00 am cell phone alarm. So I awoke to native birds cawing and chirping away, cats tramping around on the roof above me, and Osito pawing at my door. And of course, once I fully gained consciousness I was practically hit in the face by the humidity of the air around me.

I spent Friday morning doing more research. If I felt silly in the beginning googling phrases like “how to make a business plan,” and “accounting for dummies,” I lost all pride when I began youtubing “how to make a Winnie the Pooh piñata” and “how to make Cars piñatas” (I’ve noticed in some of the other stores that those two characters seem to sell for especially high prices). My good ol’ Rhodes education has opened my mind and formed my ambitions in ways that words could never express, but it did not prepare me for this…I guess I missed Piñata-making 101…

I also began working on a rough outline for the census. I’m still feeling pretty in-over-my-head with this project, but I’ve at least got a starting point.

Let me be honest, this project is semi-terrifying. This is real. I’m not turning this in to a professor. I’m not even turning it in to some government official with an office and a file cabinet somewhere. I’m giving this to Doña Sandra, an unpaid but infinitely committed community leader. Doña Sandra hopes that we will be able to create color-coded cards for each family. She wants not only to be able to organize the community, but also to know what the community’s most pressing needs are and what can she do to tackle them. Is drug abuse the most debilitating problem within Valle de Granada? Alcoholism? Domestic Violence? Could Caracolitas hold more projects that address these issues? Could the community use this census to mobilize and press for government or private funding in their endeavors?

When I “met” with her that afternoon, she simply pulled me aside in the red and yellow mini-chairs again and we spoke uninterrupted for about 5-10 minutes while kids were climbing trees and throwing down mangoes behind us and Micayla was giving a “class” on belleza in front of us. In that “meeting,” she expressed a desire for me to organize a few teams of people and go door to door, or if they don’t have doors… well… vivienda to vivienda. Although an older and frail-ish woman, she has a surprisingly commanding presence in the community, and I can already sense her insatiable ambition for positive change.

After speaking with Doña Sandra, I participated in the making of our second piñata—a large multi-colored star—with the women. Although the star was a tad lopsided and the women aren’t completely comfortable with me yet (I’m realizing that it’s a bit harder to gain their trust and approval than it is with the children of the community), I feel that we are all making small steps in the right direction, both as a business and as a team.

After our piñata-making workshop came to an end, Carrie and Micayla showed up to work with the belleza group. As the women had already gotten to witness Micayla cut hair a few times, she felt it was time for them to make a few cuts themselves. I thought, Why not volunteer myself? Mom’s been urging me to get a haircut for a while now… So I offered up my lengthy locks for the cause of microfinance : )

They did a pretty great job! I’m proud to be the first client of a business that will hopefully continue for at least some of these women after I leave.

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Saturday Micayla and I decided to take a trip up to Laguna de Apoyo, a beautifully serene lagoon located in the crater of a collapsed volcano and filled with centuries of rainwater. Some people informed us that a local hostel, The Bearded Monkey, offered round trip transportation to the shores of the secluded lake for about $6. So we showed up Saturday morning and piled into the back of a pick up truck with 6 other backpackers / beach bums who were staying at the hostel (2 Americans, 2 Canadians, 1 Dutch, and 1 Belgian).

We drove about 10 minutes on the highway and maybe another 10 minutes on unpaved steep downhill roads through more secluded towns/villages as we made our way down into the valley in which the lagoon is nestled.

This lagoon was absolutely gorgeous. Surrounded by hills and filled with clear, clear water, it was incredibly tranquil and enjoyable. Additionally, I don’t think I saw more than a dozen people from the time our Bearded Monkey driver dropped us off until the time we piled into the pick-up and headed up the hills again.

There I spent the whole day reading while sunbathing, reading in shaded hammocks, swimming and taking a small blue dingy out into the lake, and hearing the interesting lives and stories of the other travelers (I even found an Econ buddy among them! I was thrilled and we happily chatted about microfinance, development & moral hazard, and the economic importance of environmental sustainability together).

An especially exciting personal moment for me came when I was talking to a woman at the small bar/restaurant near the lake. She was American but I discovered that she and her husband had lived in Granada for 6 years, where they currently operate a ministry called El Puente. I didn’t get the full story, but I gathered that they are missionaries working with helping some small businesses down here; and I think they own a bike rental shop too. Anyway, we exchanged numbers and she promised to call me and we could have a longer conversation in Granada sometime. How cool is that?? I’m pumped.

Arriving back at The Bearded Monkey satisfactorily sun-kissed, I exchanged some contact information with my new hosteler friends and headed back home to Calle Sur Xalteva for some dinner and some more great conversation with Doña Marta.

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Sunday morning I slept in (8:00am) and after enjoying some much needed stillness (accompanied by my Raising Ebenezer CD), Micayla and I met and walked down to the pier to check out las isletas. Las isletas are 365 tiny islands created by an ancient lava eruption of Mombacho, the now inactive volcano overlooking Granada.

We spent a couple of hours on a lancha, a tour boat with a small motor, visiting the islands with Ernesto, an 18-year-old native islander who served as our guide and captain. More interesting to me than the islands themselves was talking with Ernesto. He explained to me the history of the islands and that almost wealthy foreigners now owned almost all of them. I pressed him further and learned that they used to be inhabited by indigenous islanders who, for financial reasons, sold them to foreigners for around $5,000 in the 1960’s (what they, in their poverty, thought was an appropriate price for owning your own personal island). Now, current inhabitants (mostly foreign business tycoons and other such people with too much money lying around, in my opinion) continue to buy and sell the tiny islands for hundreds of thousands of dollars, keeping the natives on to care for the house and landscaping during the 95% of the year when they aren’t vacationing there.

Visiting las isletas was certainly beautiful, but I couldn’t help feeling like there was a bit of an injustice glaring me in the face every time we motored past a tiny island with a two-story house on it and speedboat in the dock.

I don’t know; I’m still learning how things work down here.

Again, draw your own conclusions.

Ernesto was incredibly knowledgeable and professional. We talked most of tour about his life, his work, and his plans for the future. He currently gives tours everyday of the week and attends high school at night. He graduates this year and afterward wants to attend a university in the city to study English and tourism. It was obvious that he enjoyed his job; he shared with me that he particularly liked sharing his knowledge of the history of the islands with the foreigners who ride in his boat. After the tour ended we thanked and tipped him and wished him the best of luck, promising to send any other gringos interested in seeing las isletas his way.

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Anyway, as I’m sure you’re noticed by now, I’m seeing a lot down here—many fantastic and beautiful things, such as my wonderful family here, but also many things that aggravate me. I’ve noticed myself differently too. No longer a tourist or short-term volunteer like I have been before in countries like Nicaragua, I feel more invested here. I’m more aware of the corruption, more unsettled by the injustices, and more frustrated by how difficult it is to affect one ounce of change.

But this feeling is good. I think that we all need to experience this in order to better serve both in America and abroad, because there exists brokenness and suffering everywhere. Regardless of the more difficult things I’m seeing, this is still an absolutely gorgeous country and I am so blessed to be here. I am still genuinely loving my time here and falling in love with this city and culture more and more every day. A dear friend of mine facebook-messaged me some wonderfully heartening advice yesterday. She encouraged me to focus on simply abiding in the Lord— not to change Nicaragua or count the number of lives I've touched, but just to abide in God. Because only then can He really accomplish anything through me.

Anyway, I know that I’ve mentioned some heavy things, and although it must seem like I’m writing a novel, I really have left SO MUCH untold, especially some more personal thoughts and feelings. As always, please email or facebook me if you’re interested in discussing any of these things further. I’d love to!

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Yesterday was Mother’s Day in Nicaragua, so ¡feliz día de la madre to all the moms out there! Right now I’m attempting to finish up a second draft of the census format, and then it’s off to work at 1:00pm. I’m hoping to hold a discussion with the women and have them formulate a 1-2 sentence business “vision” or “mission statement” that we can work from in the upcoming weeks.

** Fun fact: Last night I was interrupted by some mysteriously loud and incessant chirping and learned that Andrea’s grandfather (Doña Marta’s husband who works outside the city but comes home on the weekends, Silvio) had purchased, at her insistence, 3 chicks at the market today as pets. Doña Marta says that they can grow up and live on the patio next to the kitchen with us. They’re names are Fernanda, Fernanda, and Fernando…. I have a hypothesis that Andrea named them like that because even though she pretends to know them all personally and intimately, deep down she really can’t tell them apart.

: )

LOVE TO ALL,

sarah

“But I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness! ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘Therefore I will hope in him’… You came near to me when I called on you; you said, ‘Do not fear!’ You have taken up my cause, O Lord; you have redeemed my life”

- Lamentations 3:21-24, 57-58