Giants in my Garden

So 3 years ago I was in Granada during the poetry festival with a group of foreigners.  We were having a dandy time when one of our friends rolls up and starts talking about this author who she had seen give a speech and then she even got to take a pic with her.  I was excited and more than a bit jealous. I start to make my way to the street when my friend tries to talk me out of going to find her b/c "she's long gone by now and you will never find her".  so i gave up before i even started.  a few beers later we all agreed to go to one of the swanky restaurants in that town. The only room left was the foyer area but my friends were set on eating there.  the entrees were upwards of 8 dollars which was way to rich for my blood (in nica that is a small fortune).  anyway, as we are waiting on the waiter to arrive I made my way back to the restroom and on the way i spied the author. WHAT LUCK!   By the time I made it back to the table my mouth was dry and my palms were sweaty.  I was star struck for the first time in my life.  

The next hour I spent at the bar by myself sipping a half glass of nothing, trying to figure out the words to say to go up and talk to this lady.  She was in her mid 60s and looked like the nice mom type. But in my mind she was the Latina version of Indiana Jones.  I got to know everyone of the wait staff in that hour, and they all had a good laugh about the "white kid who is scared to talk to the middle aged Nica lady" 

Finally I got the courage and I walked up to her table and inquired if she was indeed who I thought she was and she said "yes".  Then I asked if she would mind if I got a picture with her and she said "After we finish eating."  

Turns out that rejection is always painful. ha!

But before the night was up I got my pic! ...

Fast forward 3 years.  

I'm in my garden across town on a Saturday morning and I get a call on the phone from a potential volunteers mother letting me know that she was on my front door step of the volunteer house and wanted to come in and talk about her daughter coming to join us for a part of the summer. I told her the house was empty and that I wouldn't be able to see her that day  - it was only 30 seconds notice after all.  So she went home and we scheduled to meet up the next week.   The next week arrives and I am again in the garden and she along with her husband and daughter show up 30 minutes early.  Dang!  Covered in sweat and dirt I hop on my bike and head over to the volunteer house.  As I arrived and saw who was waiting on my door step the only words out of my mouth were "your a writer"  And she said yes. Then I said "You probably don't remember but we've met before."  What a small world we live in!

Off to the garden.  

The magnitude of small.

Frankie Vallie and the 4 seasons are pumping through my headphones and I have just got halfway through the morning garden work, it looks to be all the makings of a good day. That said, something happened recently that I thought significant enough to deem worth sharing. 1. One of my local Peace Corps friends invited me to start giving classes at one of the local posh uni's in the capital. I was invited under the guise of being an 'expert' in the field of conversation. The idea of that makes me laugh just a wee bit! The notable part happened yesterday after we were through teaching class. I was at the point of leaving my esteemed colleague because she is of the chatty nature and I couldn't get her out the door. So I walked out, and when she caught up a half a kilometer later she gave me a steady chewing out for bad manners. - I was in a hurry in my defense. Her way of repaying my kindness was awesome though. When we got on the public bus (this is where the magic happens) she recognized the money taker as one of her highschool students that was going up the isle and said to her "you must the most beautiful cobradora (money taker) in Nicaragua!" The young lady smiled and then when we tried to pay she kindly wagged her finger and said 'no, uds. no pagan" ...you guys don't pay. Then a few minutes later on a bus that had about 80 plus people she managed to get two seats for both of us. The bus fee would have been the equivalent of about 40 cents american, and had we been forced to stand the whole way it would only have been about 25 minutes. Insignificant numbers you might say, and you would be right. But not paying NEVER happens. In fact all to often it goes the other way in that the folk in the transport related business look how to squeeze anything extra out of you that they can. 2. Later that day. So last week on friday a teacher from one of the English speaking institutions that we partner with asked if I could come help out with her English class. My standard practice on Saturday afternoons is to try and disappear from human interaction, but my ability to say 'NO' is not terribly honed as of recently. So I went. It was a level one English class which means that basic conversation is another 6 months away. Crap! But on the other side of things, the students at this particular institution are by far the most eager to learn that I have met in all of my years of teaching. They make it a pleasure to be in the classroom. So I went and the teacher briefed me on the topic and then walked out. And the students and I proceeded to get to know one another for the next hour over a lot of pantomiming and simple phrases in the present simple. And then I got an offer of a gift! One of the guys that was there with his wife was a pottery artist. He said "I'm from San Juan de Oriente and I want to make you a pot." That particular town is Nicaragua's pottery town. I said sure and he asked me what animal I would like painted on it. I told him a green humming bird would be pretty fantastic and he assured me that by next class when I came that it would be ready. Dang him! I had just got roped in by his freaking kindness to not being able to disappear for another saturday afternoon! So yesterday I went again and the second I walked in the guy says "oye profe, heres the pot" It's a vase and it's about 6 inches tall and the guy made it. Made... I mean he took a lump of clay, put it on a potters wheel, spun it in to shape, carved two humming birds on it and some flowers on it, painted them all, and then cooked it in his kiln. I will be showing up prompt and punctual with a smile on my face next saturday after!

No te tengo miedo.

That's what a 7ish year old told me on Friday night. There is a tradition in Nicaragua that is specific to Masaya called Aguizotes. If you landed in Masaya from almost any other part of the Americas you might think it was a chaotic looking Halloween celebration. And it is kind of like it; the date is always towards the end of October, people dress up in costume, and if possible they try and scare anyone that gets in their path for the duration of the festivities. But there are differences. Their original costumes and the purpose behind them is a bit different. There are only a handful of costume characters that were used until recent years. All of them had to do with some bit of history that usually happened in the years of the Spanish conquest -in the 1500's. One of the more unpleasant examples is called the Carreta Nagua in English that comes to Chariot of Death. One of it's modern expressions is a massive cart that is stacked high with metals barrels that are burning car tires and pulled by a team of motley looking ruffians. It gives the youngsters quite a scare. The original death chariot was a bit different and I think inspired fear not only in the kids but in the adults as well. It was an cart pulled by oxen and driven by the spanish conquistadors. It was used to haul the captured indians back to the spanish settlements as slaves. But, in recent years other characters have started to enter in the celebration and for the past two years we have been a part of that. For the past week prior to the celebration a few friends came came over for a few nights and joined Elliot and I in mask making. The results were the phantom of the opera, a japanimation character, a cyclops, and a couple of Blue Meanies. The night of Aguizotes we had a few friends join us at the house and then we took to the streets with about 10 or 15 thousand other costume clad locals and marched through the streets for a few hours. About an hour and a half into it a little kid of about 10 came up to me and said, "hey can you come scare my little sister" He pointed her out and I immediately tried to get out of it. I let him know that she was to little and that it wouldn't be a nice thing to do. He said that her size and age didn't matter and that i should "please try to sacre her." then she looked over the street and saw what her brother was up to and gave me a funny look. It might sound bad but for some reason at that very moment I felt compelled to scare the little kid. What a jerk right!? So I took off charging towards her with a yell. She crossed her arms and looked me straight in the eyes and said "No te tengo miedo!" Whether she meant it or was trying to convince herself of it I have no idea but I was seriously impressed. I ripped my mask off and gave her a hi-5 and then asked if I could take a picture with her. So in the pic you will find a blue meanie and one very brave little girl. Feliz Aguizote!

How we shop.

Price determines value. If the price is high then it will have a corresponding value. If it's low then the value follow suit. Right? I've decided that either I'm semi foolish or maybe just open to the idea that price doesn't always have to dictate the quality of a product or in my case a service received. In the past few weeks 3 people I know, 2 in the medical profession and one a neighbor, have made comments on a bump in had on my neck. I'm not sure why I paid them any mind. I have had it since I was 20ish and done a pretty good job of ignoring it ever since the doc i went to at that time told me that doing something about it might not turn out so positively. So these three people got me a bit worried and I started entertaining the idea of getting it seen. One of my concerned friends picked up her phone and called a handful of surgeons and told them her thoughts, she was a gp doctor, and then on the end of each conversation asked them how much the consultation would cost. They ranged from 200 to 400 cordobas. I immediately ruled out the 400 guys. That my friend is highway robbery. Even 200 was a struggle. I had a roledex of items that pulsed through my head of things that equaled one doctor visit. Let me enlighten you. A 200 cordoba doctor consult = 1. one ham and cheesepizza and 4 cane sugar sweetened Cokes 2. 8 banana trees 3. a day long stay at the laguna de apoyo 4. 4 world class burritos at the only legit mexican place in Masaya 5. nearly 3 pounds of freshly toasted and ground coffee from the highlands of Nica 6. one pound of Eisenia fetida. 7. Half of a bicycle 8. 20 pounds of beans 9. an electric mosquito racket 10. a 45 minute boat ride for 4 through the isletas in Granada. Puts it in perspective doesn't it. So I biked over to this robbers office the next day and within 5 minutes he let me know that it was what I thought/had been told 10 years earlier and that it would be a good idea to take it out. Then I went blank. Two people went through my mind at that point. My mother and this girl named Claire that was one of our medical interns last year. The common bond was both are detail oriented and seem to have a knack for asking an immense amount of questions about everything and anything. I was still blank and then looked at the doctor and said "is there anything you can think of that i should be asking you?" A few days later I was sitting on my doorstep chatting with my neighbor and her nephew and she let me know that he was good friends with such and such surgeon and that I should at least go see what he has to say. I had already heard about the guy as being the best in town but he also belonged to that category that charged 400 cordobas just for the appointment. I went. He wan't in but the head nurse was and said that the day was done but that I should come back in the morning and that they would sort it out. The nephew then said "well are you at least going to take his name down and put it on the appointment list?" she said that wouldn't be necessary and that it would be sufficient to say that I was a friend of Miguel, the nephew. Sure enough the next day when another nurse came in to do the roll call and asked for my name she said that i was no where to be found on the list. Then she looked at me and said "are you the friend of Miguel". I love how formal these guys can be, it does nothing but inspire confidence in you. I went in and the doc took a look and said that he could schedule for the knife just after he finished with some organ removal which would be around 12. I said ok, went back home prepared myself with a lot of water and a small sheet of paper instructing who would receive my two bicycles, guitar, and computer if things didn't go well and then went back around noon. This is getting a bit long. It worked! Well I think it did and I have a stitched up incision on my throat about a yard long that hopes the same. If you want to see pics then let me know. I thought they might be a bit much to post on a blog. Doctors orders are to take it easy for a few days so I am going to share some interesting recent happenings with you over the next few days. Que tengan una buena manaña!

Tia Sonia

I think the catch on finding home away from home when your gone for a while is finding family. Or at least those that you would consider such. In Nica I have this neighbor, this super transient neighbor but hey...! She randomly breaks out into dance as she walks, at times to her detriment she speaks her mind, she is knocking on 80 but considers a walk across town "muy cerca", she freely offers advice and comes over unannounced on a regular basis to just about every house on the street. At 78 she still considers herself young and thus sees her responsibility to visit all the abuelitas and make sure they are getting along fine. Last night she invited my volunteers to go out with her this morning at 7:30 to participate in a Sunday morning breakfast that she sponsors for the huelepega street kids. Huelepega is a word that refers to the group of kids that live on the streets and always have a bottle of the glue that cobblers use in making shoes. There method of mitigating hunger ,and reality I suppose, is by constantly having their nose plugged into that bottle. She calls them her kids and every time she is in town she brings them new clothes and at least one weekly meal. She is nothing shy of freaking fantastic. Ojala que se me pegue un poco de esa energia de la ,mi, Tia Sonia!

Gran Tocino ;)

I've got great news. Wait, it's better than that. It's a stellar answer. An answer to what I suspect has been a question in the hearts and minds of many of you -us- for quite some time. 4 months 3 days, 4 flights, 2374 miles, and 4 defrosting of the fridge. That, my dear friends, is AT LEAST how long a pack of unopened bacon will last before going wrong.

Celebrando profundamente a lo ligero

In the morning we were lucky enough to be introduced to a school that we will probably be working with for a long while. We toured the facility, made plans to show up at 6 a.m. thursday morning to work with the students, and then said our hasta entonce's to the directora and the CPf's. For lunch Elliot and I ate at this 2 dollar greasy spoon run by a couple that has continually insisted for the past month that we show up to their house so that we can learn how to cook the nica way. "ok ok senora, ya vamos a llegar, de hecho yo creo que este finde no tenemos que trabajar asi que dale por hecho que vamos a estar tocando la puerta tuya este sabado." and this evening after we spent an hour or so repairing fans we made it to intercambio. There were about 20ish friends ,osea amigos Nicas, that showed up. The purpose of the intercambio is to exchange language. At the end of our conversation I apologized for the bad ratio of anglophones to hispanohablantes but they didn't blink an eye, and even seemed to think i was a bit absurd for making an apology. But the best part of the day, of the day that marked two years in Nicaragua, was on the way home from having a few tonas with Elliot. I was walking across the central park and I made a new and extremely small yellow friend. He gave me a hug, a seriously happy tale wag, and then he followed me home. When we got home I sat on the front step for a while and told him that he could stay long term if he was there in the morning, and that I would even investigate the fellas name. Off to check on my new friend! ...Feliz segundo aniversario Casa-Nica!